Gabriel’s best bud Spiral aka The Vampire Slayer and Gabriel aka Neo
What great fun we had chasing the kids around going from house to house in the neighbourhood across the street from us. I was astonished at how few children were running about in costume. It seems that this tradition is a dying one. In any case, the boys looked very cool (in fact, at one house the gal who answered the door said that they looked “hot”… Gabriel “Ewwwwwed” while Spiral was mightily impressed with himself. Too funny…
Translated, the heading roughly reads: We musical souls, we bohemian boys… this was my father’s favorite song, though I don’t remember all of the lyrics and would love to know them all.
Last night Bonnie and I went to the Orange County Performing Arts Center’s Samueli Theatre to Hungarian Festival: Gypsy Fire, which is part of the Chamber Music Series. Both of us have a little (or a lot, in my case) of Hungarian in us, and so we’d decided to check it out. The performances featured The Carpathian Folk Quartet (playing traditional Hungarian gypsy music), Mykola Suk (on piano), and Paul Manaster and Jeanne Skrocki (on violin). The Quaret performed songs which were most likely heard time and again throughout my childhood, and yet though some of it seemed familiar, the violinist’s interpretation of some of the music was off-beat… an almost blues-ey take on them. My favorite part of the show was after the intermission, when the Quartet and the two violinists Manaster and Skrocki were playing back and forth, alternating between bits of Hungarian folk pieces and the classical pieces inspired from them.
I love the sound of the violin, particularly when playing Hungarian folk songs. My parents and their friends (dragging all of the kids along as well) would occasionally go to local Hungarian restaurants… the Piroska in Montreal (later called Csardas and also called the Hungaria) and a Hungarian restaurant in downtown Toronto, whose name escapes me at the moment. The food was always good, but the music… During each of these outings, the songs performed could alternately produce a misty eye or raucous vocal accompaniment, depending upon the piece (and perhaps upon the quantity of alchohol consumed). As though through osmosis, those same songs could bring tears to my eyes as well, or make my heart soar and my feet wantt to kick up their heels of their own accord. I sometimes suspect it’s cellular memory, ingrained into my DNA as inexorably as my hair and eye color.
Moleskine journal entry using Varsity Pilot fountain pen and Niji water brush
Moleskine entry with Prismacolor markers
Halfway through Saturday and I haven’t accomplished a whole lot. I’ve been watching Gabriel play his new videogame all morning, and messing around with my blog. I’ve scanned in and added some new (back-tracked) entries, seeing that I’ve not been very good about adding things in the last month or so. Not sure what’s up with that, other than perhaps having reached a whole new level of jadedness (is that even a word?!).
Prismacolor markers on sales receipt
Hmmm… perhaps it’s due to it being Friday the 13th, but doggone it, I tried for hours to sign up for a journaling class today, and NIGHTMARE doesn’t even come close to describing my experience. I had this horrible feeling that I would spontaneously combust, I was so irked. So, nine bucks in the hole and a whole lot of aggravation later, I’ve decided that the universe was telling me NOT to sign up for this thing, no matter HOW much I thought I wanted to participate.
I left the apartment with my son in tow to run a few errands… paid some bills, stopped at the videogame store so that the little man could trade in some of his games for a new batch, and picked up some Prismacolor markers at the art store (not to mention a stop at Tilly’s for a nice new sweatshirt). The rain started sprinkling as we left the shopping center, and by the time we got home, it was pouring in earnest, and accompanied by an occasional spark of lightening.
We stopped for dinner at Pasta Bravo and I decided to test out the markers on the sales receipt. I was in such a foul mood, I figured I’d draw something to match my mood… hence, bubble gum girl was born. She’s green… she’s goth… she’s grumpy… just like me.