Running shoes? Running shoes.

A few weeks earlier, I found out about the Gamelan (the Balinese term for orchestra) from my pal Ron, and—unbelievably—was told by him that newcomers were welcome.
"Can you count to four?" was Dr. Ron's jovial retort when I asked him if I had to be able to read music to play with the Gamelan. So I excitedly marked my calendar, and exchanged email with the leader, Dr. Han, who said "come Han down!" Okay, so he didn't really say that.

it turned out I just got in on the early run-throughs of a Gamelan version of Stephen Foster's Hard Times Come Again No More. Huh?
I actually love this song. It's so touching and beautiful, but as a Gamelan piece? Whodathunkit?
Anyway, I was freaked at first because I could barely even pretend to follow along, as we ran though it, and I was expecting at any minute for Dr. Han to thunk me over the head with a mallet and tell me to get out. But this didn't happen. At one point I sputtered apologetically that it was just taking me a while to get the hang of it, and several people gaffawed sympathetically and said things like Oh yeah–Because we all got it immediately! So I relaxed some. And I was blessed with the experience of learning something new for a time. I followed the music, I listened to those around me, I got lost over and over again… and I got better.
It took a lot of concentration. A kind I'm not not practiced at, but that I think could be good for me. It's the kind of concentration that I look for in meditation, where I attempt to direct all my attention at one repetitive thing, and thus doing, shunt out all the complex chatter that my head is so completely full of lately.
I stayed late after the rehearsal was over and tried to get the hang of my grandfather for a bit.
Then I went to the bank and canceled my debit cards and checking accounts.
1 comment:
Funny, someone stole MY running shoes out of MY car this morning! Is there a rabid pack of desperate joggers out there? Who would steal an entire bad of someone else's stinky gym clothes???
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