- Glenn Sonnenberg
Musings from the Bunker 6/20/20
From Dave Swartz: The countdown to 100 is reminding me of Y2K. What will happen? No one knows. Panic ensues. 😘
Here’s Music from the Home Front, from ANZAC Day in Australia and New Zealand: https://musicfromthehomefront.com.au/. There’s a lot of good music, some good showmanship, inspiring talk, and some cool accents…
Someone asked for the Moldau (Vltava) by Smetana, so here it is: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l6kqu2mk-Kw. This is one of my favorite classical pieces. It is one of several that draws upon local music to create classical music that is sublime, much like the Romanian Dances by Bartok, Hungarian Dances by Johannes Brahms (Dance No. 5 being a well-known favorite), and Slavonic Dances by Dvorak (who also wrote the New World Symphony, that drew from American music, primarily Negro Gospel music).
Finally, a great series of BSO at Home from the Boston Symphony Orchestra (the Bach Flute Concerto at the top is beautiful, as are the words of the Principal Flautist: https://www.bso.org/brands/bso/at-home/bso-at-home-musicians.aspx). You might also enjoy the French Horn player’s stories of how he came to play the instrument, his collection of horns and his favorite music.
I came upon this the other day and loved it:
by Oriah Mountain Dreamer
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing. It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love for your dream for the adventure of being alive. It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon... I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain. I want to know if you can sit with pain mine or your own without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it. I want to know if you can be with joy mine or your own if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful to be realistic to remember the limitations of being human. It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy. I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence. I want to know if you can live with failure yours and mine and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes." It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children. It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back. It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away. I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.
Warm regards for the weekend,