Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Friday, May 13, 2011
“Why aren’t you writing?”
“Because hardly anybody reads any more.”
“I think you’ve got your reward system backward.”
“What do you mean?” (I ask him this very frequently.)
“I mean that instead of doing the crosswords as a reward for doing something you don’t want to do, like the dishes, you should reward yourself for doing something you actually want to do, like writing.”
“It just seems pointless to write when we’re living in a time where so few people have the skill or motivation to read.”
“Well, I practice the cello every day. I practice things nobody will ever hear but me.”
“Oh, that’s not true. Everybody wants to hear you play. You play all the time.”
“But I practice because it is what I do. I think you should write because that’s what you do.”
Monday, May 2, 2011
An entire olive harvest was strewn across the parking lot at the church where Master Sinfonia performed yesterday. Birds will not eat the bitter olives, and most cars were parked well away from the half-crushed mess.
When I saw the ripe olives beginning to fall from the trees last month, I was tempted to gather them up and take them home. Then I thought that they really belonged to the church, so I resisted the temptation to harvest them.
This time, it was obvious that the olives were being wasted, so I found a bag and picked up maybe a pound of the best of the windfalls.
A gallon of olive oil costs about thirty dollars these days. Black olives are not cheap. And yet here were all these olives, being wasted. All that was necessary to use them was to wash them well and put them in salt water for three weeks.
In ancient Greece, the Athenians voted whether their patron should be Poseidon, who gave them the horse, or Athena, who gave them the olive tree. The olive branch has come to symbolize peace throughout most of the world.
Here amidst our prosperity, we complain that we are poor, but truly I think our poverty is for the most part one of education, culture and spirit.