* There's been a lot of construction work going on in my neighborhood; I think they're replacing a lot of the guts under Somerville Avenue, mainly. This has been going on since (at least) the Summer. Recently, as in the last two weeks or so, they changed the wonderfully reliable pedestrian walk light at Lowell Street to one that, instead of changing the light right off, tells you to "wait...wait." And wait we do now. The nice thing about it, though, is that when we finally get to walk, we're accompanied by the cowbell from Masekela's Grazing in the Grass:
Yes, we do actually sway a bit when we cross the street now. Can't help it.
* Last night, don't know how I positioned the glassware, pots and pans in the dishwasher, but while it was running, started sounding an awful lot like something by Steve Reich:
There was a copy of Clapping Music at the music store that, when it was slow, we'd occasionally pick up to noodle around with. That was my first experience with Reich, who gradually turned into an obsession for me. When I was younger, my brain would always, infernally, be working. Following individual lines in whatever pieces I could find scores for was a source of meditation, a calmant for me. Now, I don't go at it with a seam ripper; rather, it sort of washes over me, the different parts appearing coming into my field of vision like little fish swimming about in a coral reef.
Just found the manual to Pavel's grandfather clock and found that I could change the chime melodies. Since I'd been sick of the Westminster Abbey chime for sometime now, decided to give something else a try. In honor of August's trip to Normandy, set the lever to "St Michel."
Sorry no melody. The views are pretty impressive, though. Wish I'd have gotten to see the abbey up close like this; was too crowded to bother, though, when I was there.
The new melody is so jarring. Very French, too (hard to describe). Funny to think that that aesthetic has been around for nearly 1,000 years.