You're Lucky to Even Know Me, You're Lucky to Be Alive
Again, a lot of great parts to today.
But the high point was a house concert tonight.
It was Beatrix's first violin public performance; a few weeks back, her incredible teacher Kelsey asked if she could do it, and she wanted to, so she has been practicing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" (or Baa Baa Black Sheep, or the ABC song, depending on how you think of it) since then. It's been a hard few weeks of practice, and she literally only got a strong hold on it minutes before we left for the concert, when Patrick came up with the idea of videoing it and showing her what she was doing wrong. It was like a light bulb came on, and just in time too.
So an hour later, we're sitting on the living room of a quintessential Saint Anthony Park home, the kind I grew up knowing, with a strong architectural sense, full of mismatched mugs and flyers about peace rallies and arts events, picture everywhere, candles burning — a place I feel very at home in, and with an audience of interesting people. Beatrix plays her piece and it's not perfect, but my heart is bursting with pride that she got through it. The Ladies Music Club (whose concert it was) were enormous fun to listen to, and were highly inspirational to Beatrix.
Near the end she leaned over to me and said "Are they going to be done soon and we'll have to go home?"
"Probably in a few songs. Are you getting bored?"
"No, that's just the problem, I don't want to leave."
It's a good night of music when you don't want to leave.
But the high point was a house concert tonight.
It was Beatrix's first violin public performance; a few weeks back, her incredible teacher Kelsey asked if she could do it, and she wanted to, so she has been practicing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" (or Baa Baa Black Sheep, or the ABC song, depending on how you think of it) since then. It's been a hard few weeks of practice, and she literally only got a strong hold on it minutes before we left for the concert, when Patrick came up with the idea of videoing it and showing her what she was doing wrong. It was like a light bulb came on, and just in time too.
So an hour later, we're sitting on the living room of a quintessential Saint Anthony Park home, the kind I grew up knowing, with a strong architectural sense, full of mismatched mugs and flyers about peace rallies and arts events, picture everywhere, candles burning — a place I feel very at home in, and with an audience of interesting people. Beatrix plays her piece and it's not perfect, but my heart is bursting with pride that she got through it. The Ladies Music Club (whose concert it was) were enormous fun to listen to, and were highly inspirational to Beatrix.
Near the end she leaned over to me and said "Are they going to be done soon and we'll have to go home?"
"Probably in a few songs. Are you getting bored?"
"No, that's just the problem, I don't want to leave."
It's a good night of music when you don't want to leave.
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