I heard a song this afternoon... although I'm not sure where it came from. It could have been an ad from my laptop, or even from somebody's AM radio outside... but the violin in it sounded so raw and vulnerable and sad and at first instinct, I was terribly mistaken for a lonely housewife and almost began to cry. I didn't, mind you. I realized that I just really love the violin.
I remember taking the Test for Tones in grade school. My brother (who was in middle school by then) had spoken of me to his orchestra teacher, Mr. Craig, who admittedly agreed that I had incredible ears and just as much talent as my brother. What a compliment! My head must have been bulbous atop such a stickly 10 year-old frame. Anyway, I chose the violin and played as gently and passionately as I could imagine myself playing and was accepted into the pre-orchestra class during after school hours every Wednesday. All of this thinking and reminiscing of passion and music makes me hungry.
I want to smash a few cloves of garlic on my coffee table and watch the fumes melt in the air with the steam from my coffee (MY COFFEE! I completely forgot about it!); physical perception! Though it probably would not smell great. Which smell would overpower the other? Garlic, of course.
It is 3:40pm. I must eat something. I must watch something. I must read something. I must learn something. I MUST BE SOMEONE. At least before the end of the day.
Soup sounds like a good idea. Lemon, garlic, egg, butter, cream, parsley. SOUP. I eat alone and sometimes I eat on my balcony alone and I rather enjoy it.
Do you hear me? Does anyone?