"Acetate tapes awaiting digitalization".
Say it out loud, slowly the first time. Repeat a few times. Make it sing. Can you hear the jazz? This was the title/chorus of a poem read by local author Judy Wapp. It continues to joyfully bounce around my head.
The poem commemorates the finding, in a basement in the Library of congress, of a tape recording of a 1957 concert by Thelonious Monk and Charles Coltrane. The tapes were then lovingly restored to modern format.
Click the link for more on the story here.
I just came home from a writers' coffee house at the library. How I love that place!
For such a small town we sure have a lot of talent and way more going on than a person with hermit tendencies can take in. This may be because the nearest larger centres are two hours away, over snowy mountain roads. We have to make our fun at home. Events to do with either music or visual arts also abound. I like knowing they are happening, even though I rarely participate.
One has to select and set priorities. Being a bona fide "Friend of the Library" and showing up for events is mine.
I want to produce a short piece to contribute to the coffee house next year. I enjoy being in front of an audience, especially if I can make people laugh. Maybe a seventies memory, those need to be written up anyway. Remembrance of snipes past could be polished. I like the title.
It is also time to find a poem for Poetry Night, coming up in early spring. Learn to bake a few more goodies for the snack table afterwards. I usually weasel out with the excuse I just don't do sweet baking, but I brought mini spanakopita this time and they were a hit.
Also, I just might return to the farmers market in summer and help to run it. Small town life. I love it.
Say it out loud, slowly the first time. Repeat a few times. Make it sing. Can you hear the jazz? This was the title/chorus of a poem read by local author Judy Wapp. It continues to joyfully bounce around my head.
The poem commemorates the finding, in a basement in the Library of congress, of a tape recording of a 1957 concert by Thelonious Monk and Charles Coltrane. The tapes were then lovingly restored to modern format.
Click the link for more on the story here.
I just came home from a writers' coffee house at the library. How I love that place!
For such a small town we sure have a lot of talent and way more going on than a person with hermit tendencies can take in. This may be because the nearest larger centres are two hours away, over snowy mountain roads. We have to make our fun at home. Events to do with either music or visual arts also abound. I like knowing they are happening, even though I rarely participate.
One has to select and set priorities. Being a bona fide "Friend of the Library" and showing up for events is mine.
I want to produce a short piece to contribute to the coffee house next year. I enjoy being in front of an audience, especially if I can make people laugh. Maybe a seventies memory, those need to be written up anyway. Remembrance of snipes past could be polished. I like the title.
It is also time to find a poem for Poetry Night, coming up in early spring. Learn to bake a few more goodies for the snack table afterwards. I usually weasel out with the excuse I just don't do sweet baking, but I brought mini spanakopita this time and they were a hit.
Also, I just might return to the farmers market in summer and help to run it. Small town life. I love it.
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