Saturday I sat down on my train headed from Liege to Namurand the car I was almost empty. A man entered after me and took the seat across the isle.
“Do you need God?”
“No?…everybody needs God”
I immediately regretted my answer, turned on Kind of Blue, and waited for a religious tract and/or my untimely death.
He proceeded to fall asleep while I said my goodbyes and wondered if my parents would actually commission a heart-wrenching piece by Maria Schneider like I had asked, and soon after the trainticketwoman stepped into the car. She checked my ticket and turned to the man next…who did not have a ticket, nor the correct documentation, nor was he a smooth talker. Some shit went down, some cards were scanned, and she left.
“Do you need God sir?”
…okay, no. I refrained.
but I live for these moments.
Thanks to four years of LVPA music history I won two tickets to see the Orchestre National de Belgique. They played some rich chocolaty Brahms and the Walton Cello Concerto, which I had never heard. I was feelin’ an orchestra concert, I was really feelin’ the Walton (so was he) and Tina Fey/Sarah Palin was feelin’ fourth chair violin.
I finally returned to school this week after a week off to finish my Young Arts submission. I’m not really sure what I’m going to do if I actually win something…seeing as it is in Miami…I should probably tell someone that…
Yesterday I spent the last three periods of the school day exploring Chimay. I spent an hour in Le Grand Café avec coffee and completed the first sentence of a scholarship essay. In addition to hip, hanging, glowing orbs and black leather, Le Grand was up in Radiohead, The Cinematic Orchestra, and Lily Allen. alrighty then.
After that I descended the secret magical stairs of Chimay and stumbled upon the Royal (yes, Royal) Garden, a path I had never seen before and intend to take someday, and a tiny angry dog. I have yet to catch a glimpse of this swine-flu-fearing-80 year old Princess of Chimay that I have heard so little about.
I have recently joined a concert band thingy called “Motivation” (I think), and this man is behind the wheel.
My life is. out. of. control.
but wait. Let me back up here. Let me clarify.
I am at the hands of some of the most generous people I have ever met. Mr. Trumpet Man, my fellow school students, The employees at La Maison des Desserts who made me the best strawberry milkshake ever, and my host parents…oh my host parents.
My host mother already understands that in the morning I don’t speak before I drink a glass of orange juice and three sips of tea. Bless her. That’s love.
and that’s also why this is so confusing.
and so was this