Sunday, April 13, 2008

Lisa Jarnot, Robert Duncan biographer and poet extraordinaire, has created a virtual patch of grape hyacinths for Yours Truly as she has - mere minutes ago, written to let me know that my hat (see wondrous green woolly chapeau above), part of her 100 Hats Project, is completed and en route.
YT blogged about this quite a while back.
Lisa vowed to knit 100 hats as a way to honour Iraqi civilians killed in the ongoing miasma.
On the other end, those who were interested sent images of dead Iraqis and, when she could, she knit these 100 hats. This project began when the war did and, as we all know (or should) there are far more than 100 war deaths, on both ends, in all camps, sects.
YT will wear it most proudly, poetically.
Speaking of grape hyacinths, saw the first one poking up in the chilly ground. Daffodils are doing their damnedest to show themselves in their groupings.
Yesterday was a frenzy of editing and creating an online way to share and sell images from certain gigs.
Afterwards had a pleasant gig at the BigU where, amongst others, saw The Clarksons. The event happened on the stage of Slee. YT was concerned at one moment that she might step off the stage and into a huge silver bowl of syrupy-thick strawberries alongside pound cake.
Had a few moments to spare between that gig and the next event on the docket, attending the concert of Brahms, Wagner (vog-ner to the cognoscenti), and, in the demi half, a minimalistic piece by John Adams.
Due to gigging saw the latter half but not before enjoying a flute of decent champagne in the basement of KMH with Heady.
The other girls descended during the intermission and then we made our way up to our line of balcony seating.
This was all in honour of the birth anniversary of Mish. After, a quick jaunt to Lagniappe's for truly excellent loaf and mashed sweet potatoes. A triumph.
Onwards to the odd backroom sitting room of Staples.
No, not the partial student office supply emporium in Union Square, but the Allentown bar next to better-accessorized Hardware.
More edits await.
More breaks into the soggy garden await.
Waiting on a stretch of truly warmed days when those explosive Spring molecules waft about.

Wafting Love.