I have a new best friend. His name is Robert Schumann.
Seriously, I was listening to the Teaching Company lecture about how Schumann wrote little portraits, little tiny pianistic sketches of things. Apparently, he was equally drawn to both music and poetry.
Well, shut my mouth. So am I.
Why do I feel like every major composer is a kindred spirit? Particularly the tortured ones??
Anyway, I dug up my favorite poetry book (other than the Norton Anthology of Poetry), New and Selected Poems by Mary Oliver. And opened to a page. It happened to be the poem "First Snow."
So I just read the words and played musically what the words said. Pretended to be Schumann and "drew" a picture of "First Snow."
It was beautiful. And it wasn't just my usual boring, uncreative New-Agey beautiful. It really was pretty. And interesting. Schumannesque and not sounding of the 21st century, of course, but still ... it was very nice. So I've started writing it down. I played it four times: twice for me, once for Dan, and once on the phone for my mom. I played different notes every time, but the senses of movement were the same. So now that I've started writing it down, I'll be more exact.
But not too exact. There's nothing exact about a first snow. 'Cept that it's beautiful.
And I like writing beautiful music. Particularly when it's not (in my opinion) musically boring.
La la la! I'm a happy girlie tonight.