April | 2019 | reverse threading

the icefall was in front of us. we had our crampons on and the ropes were secured. ladders were stretched across the crevasses and we had weighty backpacks filled with dehydrated food, protein bars and water. we were ready.

ha! in our dreams.

we climb mount everest regularly. now, don’t get all particular about whether this is literal or not. i am a giant fan of all-things-everest so we lose our breath watching others climb on video clips, movies, in books. we are soooo there. but, no, not really THERE.

i can’t imagine climbing everest actually. the perils, the training, the cold, the cost, the crowds (!) all point to the fact that i won’t be climbing everest. but we can climb other mountains, literal and figurative, and stand at the summit shooting selfies with a triumphant expression, realizing a dream. on our way back down we pass others on the way up; some linger on the ropes, unable to move. we offer encouraging words, but, in our conquest, we have already forgotten what it felt like to hang, even momentarily, on the rope, paralyzed.

we all have icefalls in front of us. they are insurmountable. they are surmountable. perhaps some crampons, ropes, ladders and a backpack filled with food and water will help. believing we can realize a dream, overcome an obstacle is the first step.

and, even more, remembering that bit of humility toward others, vulnerable on their way up while we are on our victorious way back down.

read DAVID’S thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

everyone does it. in the middle of conversation. in the middle of silence. in the middle of a piece of music. in the middle of a dance. you vamp…buying time.

my poppo would vamp through a silence when he couldn’t think of anything else to say by quipping things like, “how ’bout them apples?” or “how do you like them apples?” or “do you think the rain will hurt the rhubarb?” he didn’t really expect an answer in particular. (well, except for the rhubarb question, in which case the standard ‘correct’ answer, accompanied by rolling of eyes and laughter, was always “not if it’s in cans.”) my dad was a better ponderer than conversationalist. my sweet momma handled most of the conversations of their over-70-years-together time. but you could always count on my adorable poppo for this tad bit of random.

my very-excellent-“it’s-fine”-producer ken can pick out my “how ’bout them apples?” notes in a millisecond. he recognizes them instantly and will say, “thinking note” as i vamp through a thought process heading in some direction or other with a melodic conversation in a piece of music.

some people say, “ummmm.” others say, “liiiiike….” or “welllll….” or “okaaaay….” we each have our own colloquialism, our own phrase that buys time. it’s all good. ummm, well, ok, like, as long as we’re having conversation.

but really, how ’bout them apples?

read DAVID’S thoughts this MERELY-A-THOUGHT MONDAY

reverse threading

the path back is the path forward

Monthly Archives: April 2019

the icefall. [two artists tuesday]

how ’bout them apples? [merely-a-thought monday]

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