The ice has broken...

And I'm posting again!

Not much going on round here, though. Besides, of course, bunches and bunches of performances and competitions around the Metroplex and elsewhere. And hundreds of Wednesday lessons in between, filled with "Okay, that's good, but...", "Great, but...", and "That's so musical, but...".

You know, I wonder if one day I can have the buts come first. That might not be grammatically correct, but...

Sometimes I might give my prof a nice smack across the cheekbone, and other times I might hug him outright. I respect him, but...

Or, I might cut off sentences with "buts" in them. That might be a good idea, but...

Bugger.

Thinking here.

First of all:

Dear Blogspot,

Please accept my sincerest apologies for neglecting my little mini-world. Well, I'll at least attempt to change that - in the days to come. Meaning, of course, once I brave it through da monsta (piano biz) in June.

Secondly, and, less formally, I've been thinking of administratorship on the English Wikipedia for a while now. I've been offered a nomination man-ny, man-ny times, from the_ed17, Blooded Edge, Juliancolton, J.delanoy, MathCool10, and Goodmorningworld, among others. And, every time, I've turned it down. But the more I hear others asking me about it, the more it becomes a digestible idea. Why not run and see what happens?

See, my greatest fear is not that it will fail - of its initial failure I am certain. Nor is it that people will somehow find an imaginary skeleton in my closet and spark a POINTy, dramatic shark-fest (Because A) there are no skeletons, excepting the people whose bodies I have mutilated, and B) I find it easy to clam up regarding the little monster under the bridge that nomnoms goats). In fact, I don't even know what is holding me back. But I don't even know what others see in me to begin with, either.

Perhaps it is my aura. *halo of light gathers overhead*

In all seriousness, it's still quite an enigmatic decision to me. Perhaps it's the fact that I myself am unsure of my capabilities as an admin. After all, a good editor does not always make great admin.

Kittehmaster

Bulletin: I've changed my profile photo (cute wittle kitty cat, to your right, under "About"). To be frank, I'm not a softie. I can be soft, but it's just not my nature - most of the time, at least.

Art is great, but Kittehmaster is better. He takes aim - and he is watching you. Violate WP:AGF, and you will be annihilated. Similarly, submit some WP:OR or WP:POV, and you will go down. Above all, violate WP:COOL, WP:CIVIL, WP:NPA, or WP:LEGAL, and you will never live to settle the next WP:LEW.

And if you're thinking WP:OMG!, look up the little acronyms on Wikiland, for great justice and atomic lulz.

kthnxbai,

Basement Cat

Chopin exemplified

Ladies and gents, this is the Chopin to beat. In fact, Blechacz even seems to resemble Chopin - the hair, the feel, the sound, the expression...

Now, I will try not to get too carried away with the subject, so I will keep it brief. In vain I have tried to find the right words (even spending a half-hour poring over this d---ed screen), but I have concluded it would be better just to leave the text short and brief. After all the music (and musician) are too beautiful for words.

I will add a bit of an aside - a "barcarolle" is a Venetian gondolier song. Create whatever fantastical, romantic imagery to accompany the evening music - as for me, I'm content with the images in the video alone. ;)

So drink in with the ears, readers. But remember - he's mine.

The angels of Fort Worth

Any Cowtown native is familiar with the iconic image of the limestone angels, trumpeting high (well, not so high) above the cityscape. Sometimes called the gem of Fort Worth, it's pretty hard to find under the multitude of skyscrapers. But it is culturally rich all the same - just a few paces from the famous Flying Saucer and Sundance Square, it's one of the many locales (Man with a Suitcase, a huge modern-art structure that sometimes even stupefies the locals; the Water Gardens, a free-admission, open-to-the-public park with artistic water fountains, and the stuff-yourself-to-death-while-starving-your-pocket Texas de Brazil, among hundreds of other restaurant sweet spots, too many places to list) that make downtown such a fun place to be.

I don't mean to make this post resemble a travel brochure, but I can't help but love Bass Performance Hall.

Jazz, classical, comedians, dramatists, any kind of auditory art can be found at Bass Hall. There, on the corner of 4th and Calhoun, I saw my very first piano concert, when I was nine. The pianist was Olga Kern, performing with the Fort Worth Symphony Orchestra shortly after her famous Van Cliburn win. I don't remember what she played, but I can honestly say that I have found such expression and musical passion rare.

And then there was the time I saw Nelson Freire, the Argentine pianist. His rendition of Chopin's Funeral March (WWE fans can remember it as The Undertaker's theme) brought chills and a profoundly dead silence throughout the entire hall. I can still remember how the bass was so evocative of tolling bells in the distant horizon.

And, more recently, I, and eyes younger than mine, have seen the pianist superstars Lang Lang, Rudolph Buchbinder, and Yundi Li perform in that same hall, and be inspired all the same.

It never fails - as I enter to see the velvet-clothed ushers, tall, curved ceilings, finely dressed clientele, marble floors, and bright atmosphere, I can't help but get goosebumps. I still dream of playing there someday, with the multitude listening with their person and observing with their ears.

Fifteen minutes 'til eleven...

...and I find myself thinking nothing at all.

It's odd. According to many people, my life should be the most exciting right now, with all sorts of piano stuff and other real-life business popping up every week. I've got ten pieces to memorize by March, and a handful of recitals in between. And yet I'm sitting here, doing nothing, writing on my blog about nothing, just before going to bed, which is, paradoxically, doing something.

Yes, sleeping is considered an action. If I'm not mistaken, it's a verb.

But I promised I wouldn't ramble. So I'll find a topic to write about right...now.

Didn't work. I think I left my topics in San Francisco, even though I've never been there. But I'll be on the road again soon, makin' music with my friends. The pretty red-haired girl, the long-haired Super Mario dude...my piano buddies, who I'll save for a later post.

But unintelligible thoughts keep falling on my head, with little song lyrics attached. Oh well - at least I hope you laughed.

YouTube...or me?

A quick question, everyone - would you rather me continue feeding these delicious YouTube videos or continue writing blocks of text? I find the former more comfortable, so, I suppose a better question would be...is that okay with you?

In the meantime, I'll leave with a beautiful rendition of Gershwin's Prelude No. 2, played by a familiar face. Ciao!