Brazen Trumpet

 

June 23, 2024

Tried a little gardening this AM, but it was too hot even at 10:30. The weeds didn’t wait to be pulled, but leapt from the ground to end their misery.

Almost had my camera focused on my giant black frog before he leapt into watery obscurity. 

Second AVLGMC concert yesterday afternoon to a larger crowd, though it must be said that high summer is not the ideal time for indoors choral concerts. I think we were good. We were certainly active & happy & engaged, and our audience wept and laughed along with us. My own voice, which I’d been babying, was a brazen trumpet, and I could do ff contra notes to the very end. It’s been long since I felt so solid an accomplishment with that group. 

Watching some of the Olympic trials, where Katie Ledecky wins her heats with so much margin that she could have a cappuccino before #2 splashes home.  

The birds have found the mulberry trees. The mockingbirds have a peculiar little greed song they warble when they’re stuffing themselves with the berries. 

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From email:

Andrew Murphy 

3:03 PM (3 hours ago)

to me

Good Evening, David,

My Name is Andrew Murphy.

I have been given your details by Jim Horgan from Cork Arts Theatre, I had the privilege of being in the audience on one of the evenings to see Views from a Lamp Post being performed. I work with two Amateur groups here in Scotland and I would love to get a copy of your script for Alfie & Greta to let them read it with the possibility of performing it at some point in the future. I look forward to hearing from you so we can hopefully arrange something.

Thank you for your assistance.

Kind Regards, Andrew Murphy

 June 22, 2024

Dawn already ablaze. 

Concert at Grace Covenant last night for a small, appreciative crowd. Most of our choreography and scene-setting worked just fine, contrary to my expectations– the most successfully theatrical show we’ve done in a long time. The repertoire is convincing– not what I would have chosen, but vital and energetic, with musical (or perhaps I should say dramatic) virtues I had not anticipated. Pop, but strong pop. We’d slipped into the habit of doing junk. It’s not Schubert now, but neither is it junk. Hellish time afterward staggering home across the empty parking lots. 

 June 21, 2024

From Charles Schwab:

Rate of return: Your account had a cumulative rate of return of 215.05% from Oct 10, 2017 to Jun 20, 2024. (Annualized: 18.69%).

Not bad, I guess, for a naif. 

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Exhausting rehearsal last night. What should have been a simple run-through was a workshop, still learning notes the night before a concert. We take on too much. We waste too much time. There’s too much of a gap between musical leaders and followers. C who stands next to me, for instance, sounds good, but gets about 1/3 of the notes wrong. B who stands behind me sounds good and gets most things right, and I use him to check myself. A sounded sensational on his Dylan solo. Part of the downside of all this is that I’m hoarse as ocean fog. Much of the bass part is quite low and also loud and percussive. The contra D flats just stop forming after a while. The pain in my legs after climbing down from the risers is, for a moment, almost unendurable. Walked home from the venue waddling like a duck. 

S was in a dire mood because our thrice-featured soloist K “has a stomach bug.” I knew when her name was announced months ago that she would not sing this concert. It seemed hateful at the time to say so, and gratuitous now to say “I knew it.” Sometimes I’m quite clairvoyant. Without fail I predict the days when my cleaning lady will want to delay or postpone. I knew when there was all that talk about a graduate program in creative writing that it wouldn’t happen, even when the Provost said, ruefully, "it’s a fait accompli.”  I can tell this kind of conviction from a hunch, but the evidence is so subtle and subjective I wouldn’t believe it myself. Let’s not add Casandra to the names . . . 

Full summer. 

The Dublin Traviata sprints toward completion. 

A scene from Coriolanus popped up on the Internet. It was only a moment, but the lines uttered by the character C himself, I believe) were so rich, so embroidered and damasked and gorgeous that you swooned even before you understood what was going on. No modern writer would be allowed to do that. I long for it. I could do it. It would put an even longer corridor between me and any conceivable producer. 

 June 20, 2024

Seriously re-vamped my portfolio. Items sold came to $86,000 in profit. 

Turned down the trip to Umbria. The leader mentioned dormitory sleeping in a villa on a steep hill. Nope. Back in the day, maybe. Besides, I write daily with setting or provocation. He also said that mature participants are often impatient with the naivety and self-importance of the kids. Neither of those things bothers me much, but I am prone to impatience by any number of other causes. Also realized I could spend the same amount of money and be wherever I wanted doing whatever I wanted and not having anybody tell me how to write a play. 

Bad showing among the annuals this year. Change seed companies? Don’t know otherwise what went wrong. Saw the turkey hen wallowing in the zinnia bed, so that bit is explained. 

La Mama

 

June 19, 2024

Tried trading stocks, couldn’t understand why there was no response until the Schwab lady said “Happy Juneteenth.” 

Invited to join La MaMa’s playwrights’ workshop in Umbria in August. Giving myself a day to think about it. The invitation comes quite late, as many earlier acceptances dropped out. Don’t need it, but what DO I need now? 

 June 18, 2024

Went to the Woodfin Y first thing, had a workout. It felt good. I hesitated because I didn’t want to see C, and, of course, C sat at the desk at the top of the stairs and could not be avoided. It’s four years since my last visit, and that hasn’t changed. C never offends in any way, except to say “Good morning today” when he sees you, invariably, inevitably. I would do anything to avoid hearing those three words. I think twice about entering the Sav-Mor, because I always seem to be buying tonic water, and the check-out crone will always testify how tonic water is good for leg cramps, the quinine, you know. In fact, no it isn’t. Repetition has always driven me wild. Another day of heat, the sky a leaden yellow-gray. 

Marauder

June 17, 2024

Woke before tight to a sound on the east porch which I identified as a jar that has sat there for a month being knocked over by a raccoon. Sure enough, the jar was knocked over, and though raccoon is the likeliest, the sure culprit is unknown. 

My submission to The Carolina Quarterly came back with the announcement that the magazine is forced to close its doors. I can have my submission fee refunded if I want.