Snapshots With Words

The melting snow drips on my balcony in an unsteady rhythm, and sounds of Bach's cello suite in C minor arranged for theorbo fill my dining room. The theorbo is an old lute-like instrument developed in Florence Italy in the 1580's, according to lutenist Lynda Sayce. This particular recording was played by theorbist Pascal Monteilheit. It makes me think of the old instruments my husband and I saw in Venice during our trip just before Christmas of last year. My parents and Christopher and I had separated for the afternoon to do our exploring in pairs, and after meeting up at the end of the day discovered happily that the four of us all stumbled on the Museo della Musica , a museum of old stringed instruments. Some of the instruments dated as far back as the 16th century, and among the instruments we saw an Amati crafted double bass. As a violist I particularly enjoyed seeing the viola d'amores, viola da gambas, and finally the modern viola. Before finding the museum we

Ah... controversy, such a friendly topic. Healthy controversy is welcome. I just have a few thoughts on the subject. Speak freely and don't pretend, but remember that each individual person and situation has its unique problems, strengths, goals, etc. One very unhealthy train of thought that I am only now identifying as being very silly, is the tendency towards thinking that because one thing is healthy or "right" for one person or one group of people, that it should be healthy or "right" for me. That is a very unhealthy personal philosophy to have. God made us all individual. That's not an excuse to be lazy, sloppy, wasteful or rude, but it is a good reason to do what we understand to be right for us. Group thinking is pretty much always a bit dangerous if taken too far, and I think that extends to religious views as well. If one thing is made very clear in the Gospels written by the Apostles of Jesus, I think it is that our heart motivation is the most imp

Meandering down a wooded path on my husband's arm, absorbing the beauty of this wintry, fresh snowed paradise, finds me in the only place I want to be in this moment. As we walk along slowly I can feel the roughness of his wool coat brush my cheek as I turn to look up at him and tell him how beautiful this day is to me. We walk to a familiar park, but on an unfamiliar path. The discovery makes life new again. Around each bend treasures wait, and every time it surprises me to find the beauty of nature in a city. I grew up in the countryside, miles away from even a small town, so finding a breathtaking path by a stream or through the trees seems miraculous. The wooden fence along this particular stream has almost two inches of snow balancing on its ledge. The stream is a dark shadowy color in late afternoon with only an hour or so before darkness envelops it, and the snow white trees on its bank create a breathtaking contrast. My husband waits excitedly for me to catch up wit