Summer is Over

Well, it happened.  Summer is Over (great song, by the way… Sara Bareilles and Jon McLaughlin.  Lovely combination.) and classes have begun.  So far I like mine, and I think this is going to turn out to be a pretty great semester for me as a future educator and musician.

Unfortunately, with classes comes homework and rehearsals and lessons and practice, practice, practice, which means that it is very likely this blog will become neglected (I know, I don’t post a whole lot to start with, but still…).  I will try to put something up at least once a month, though, just to keep it from getting too stagnant around here.  And of course I will always update the Quote of the Month and the Music widget.  Speaking of which, if you want to make any suggestions for either of those widgets, please do!  I love suggestions.  🙂

In other news, I found this while I was packing a couple weeks ago.  It was in one of the many shoe-boxes I keep under my bed (I have a very sophisticated storage system…) and I was reminded of how awesome it is.  It’s just a paragraph that was printed on a postcard I got from one of the several universities that were courting me back in my high school years.  They were trying to appeal to my writing side (I guess they hadn’t yet gotten the music memo haha) and if I hadn’t already had plans when I got it, (and if it wasn’t one of those annoying post cards that they put fake coffee stains on because for some reason that’s supposed to make me want to go to college there, where they pretend teachers absent-mindedly put their drippy coffee on our papers…),this sample may have merited at least a glance at their program.

“It was inevitable: The smell of coffee always reminded him of unrequited love. Slippered, alone, late in the May House lounge, our hero arranges the rites of the slowdrip. She had shown him once how to set the yellow drip like a halo on his sno-man mug, snuggle in a filter, spreading the grounds in the conic toddy. Patiently she would pour hot (almost boiling!) water over the crushed beans until it rose to the surface “like watering a flower,” she said. Blooming. She would wait. In silence until the water disappeared, sometimes saturating the muddy stuff twice. Now once. Bloom alone.” ~Ryland D. Barton

What do you all think?  Am I over-zealous?  I think it’s very well-written.  It’s pretty, pleasing to read.  It makes me wonder what the rest of the protagonist’s story is.  It also made me google the writer.  Nothing yet, but I bet he’ll be famous someday, right?  Right?


Broken-hearted Coffee


Whaddaya think?

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