Okay, taking a step back. Really, I do more than just sit around in my house geeking out on completely theoretical concepts, although lately sometimes it seems that way. But there are other things going on: food cooked (although nothing terribly noteworthy so far this week), books read (I love you, Dorothy Allison! Still!), and music played. Right now I'm winding up the orchestra season at DePaul and learning my music for the dal niente season finale, and looking forward to playing the final Civic concert of the season. After that, it's summer and it will be all flowers all the time and cooking that involves a lot less time with the oven on, which will be an adventure. I'm still striving for some sort of balance, although lately I seem to be swinging between so excited I can barely sit still and irritation at myself for my previous mania. I've been feeling a little obsessive, to tell the truth (if you couldn't tell), and I'm going to start trying to even things out a little more before I drive myself nuts with it.
I spent my afternoon playing Tchaikovsky's 4th symphony in a room that was far too hot for people exerting themselves that much. (Tchaik 4=lots and lots of notes.) It was a special kind of torture, but also a pure kind of physical exertion that pulled me enough out of my head that I feel much more relaxed now. I'm looking forward to summertime and its many ways of letting me do that: biking, leaving my house much more often, and even just feeling the wind on my skin. The first days of real spring are always slightly awkward for me, because I feel a conflict between the desire to feel the sun on as much skin as I can after a long winter and the strangeness of having that much skin exposed all at once. But this year we seem to be easing slowly into warmth, and I'm appreciating the occasional tank top or skirt that I've mustered so far. Today is breezy and cloudy, but also pleasantly not cold without being sticky yet. I'm happy to be at home and wearing comfy clothes, and ready for a night alone reading poetry.