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( Maybe TMI )
Interesting to jump right back into HSC rehearsal with one normal one last week and then concert week this week. So the piano rehearsal with Graf was less than stellar, but I am grinding with tolerance through the sludge of half-minded pitches because I adore the Ravel. It's... well, it depicts the love between a goatherd and a shepherdess, and it's French, so there are by definition several musical orgasms in it. We'll get the orchestra tomorrow, so the dumbasses who still can't find the notes will be drowned out, and Graf's vision will prevail. He let us out relatively early tonight, possibly because we're hopeless without the orchestra's help.
My shoulders seem, once again and unfortunately, to be made perhaps of shatterproof carbon steel in need of oiling. They creak, pop and grind every time I move, and the muscles over my scapulae are about three degrees hotter than the rest of my body.
How amazing is this? Freaks me out.
My shoulders seem, once again and unfortunately, to be made perhaps of shatterproof carbon steel in need of oiling. They creak, pop and grind every time I move, and the muscles over my scapulae are about three degrees hotter than the rest of my body.
How amazing is this? Freaks me out.
.