Happy Belated Thanksgiving to all!  

A Night at Boston Symphony Hall

   As we were sitting in G26 and G27, our favorite seats, (best compromise with an aisle seat for Jack's legs, great acoustics and a better view of the orchestra and audience) in Symphony Hall the other night, I had several minutes to consider the beauty and the history of the famed Hall.
   I often contemplate why attending the symphony or the POPS concerts is such a rich experience for me.  The combined energies of the orchestra, audience and the Hall provide me with a total emotional, audio, visual and intellectual experience.  A CD or digital experience only gives me a lesser audio experience.  
   Our last particular night in attendance, I did my usual 'people-watching- as the audience hunted for their seats.  I saw such a wonderful diversity, as always.  Racial, ethnic, gender, age, education backgrounds, obvious prosperity, clothing styles, urban, suburban or rural appearances interested me as well.  I had a level of familiarity with some because of more identifiable appearances and a little less familiarity with some observational differences.  
  My varied reactions were stimulating, enriching and definitely enjoyable . 'A little less familiarity or comfort' is not fear-based in my thinking. My thoughts were "another reason I enjoy the Symphony experience is the exposure it gives me to the wonderful human diversities that I'm not as readily exposed to in the rural area I reside.
   I love our small town and our home's rural setting, but also know another part of myself is fed by the diversity and energy found in an urban setting.  
  In theory, the audience I was observing had the commonality of enjoying the symphony no matter our differences.  And then--there are those special musical experiences such as Lang Lang or Garrick Ohlsson making love to the keyboard or the stillness that Andris Nelsons maintains after a particularly moving finis, when collectively the audience is mesmerized.  
  Our political and social climate we live in today, these thoughts were poignant for me.  The desire and capability to explore and find a common ground with our fellow human beings appears challenging to many.  I visually and energetically felt the diversity at the recent  performance and I found it stimulating and exciting to know that we were all sharing an exquisite experience!  It happened to be Elgar's Variations On An Original Theme, Opus 36, "Enigma" (9th-Nimrod in his 14 Variations).  
   I maintain that fear of the unknown or different is crippling because the unknown is not a reality.  My experiences at Symphony Hall always reaffirms my beliefs.  A beauty in all.  

Mother's Gift

Monday,  October 1st.

   

     From my childhood until leaving my home to marry, there was an endearing and comfortable print that hung on my wall.  I accepted it as part of 'me' and in truth, never asked or wondered from where it came. " She" belonged to me.  When I married, I took her with me, moving her with us through graduate school, military, new jobs, and always stored her  carefully.  She  would  be stored with childhood memorabilia I wanted to keep  and I would discover her again while unpacking boxes.  I never could decide where to display her because she didn't 'work' with our other furnishings and decorating.  

   Twenty two years ago, when unpacking once again, I found her and decided I wanted to display her because I still loved her and why not enjoy her.   I had her newly matted and framed but no location in mind.  I moved her a couple of times, exchanging her with other wall art, and finally hung her in our exercise room with warm reds and golds where I could see her at least four or five times a week.  

  When we are not using our fireplace in the warmer months, I put her on a custom made easel and displayed her on the fireplace hearth in our living room.  

  My friend is nameless.  She is a little black girl with a turned up nose, long yellow slicker, red rubbers, carrying an umbrella with a duck head knob.  That yellow slicker and that  dark, cute face always charmed me.  She was cheerful and made me smile.  

  Recently,  a psychic  friend was visiting for the first time and we considered the print.  I shared how special she has always been to me and that she'd hung in my childhood bedroom for as long as I  remember.  Whom hung it there?  Where did she come from?  I never remembered a discussion about her.  She 'just was'.  I'd lie in bed and look at her.  

  My friend 'looked' into the history and told me that indeed, my mother put her there because she wanted me to be exposed to diversity.  "What?!' Upon consideration, I better understood myself and how that one item mother gave to me shaped a fundamental part of who I am.  It also made me contemplate whom my mother was, as I had not before.  There were hints a few times but as a teen, I believe I was more interested in what her comment was, how it related to the conversation and not what her feelings regarding the topic was.

  Mother died too early and I often have wished I'd known  more of her depth.  I knew many of her tangible talents but maybe not her truths.  

  My friend gave me a gift I cherish.