liz writes stuff down


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You and I meeting
for the first time.
Together, we found
built in polygons,
yellow, orange, and red.

Places to experiment, learn,
play, create.
The safety to
talk of speed bumps, loss,


But you and I -
an army -
propping up those colored polygons
to turn defeat against itself or,
at least,
make it something we take on

Places and spaces into
moments and memories and
bonds to hold onto
beyond those polygons,
yellow, orange, and red.

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6/8 time, beat on the dotted quarter, 60 bpm

My subconscious seems to be running in 6/8 time with the beat on the dotted quarter and 60 beats per minute; at least, whenever I sit down at a piano without sheet music in front of me, I always converge on that setting. Sometimes, I write some of these musings down:

The had I feared score

I've mentioned before that I struggle to title compositions, so I titled the short piece above, which reminds me of a Renaissance dance, with another short stanza:

Had I had a fear of heights, maybe,
maybe the view would stick
and reflect in the corner of my eyes.

You can grab a pdf of the score.

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To the pretty pitter, pitter, patter

I've been told that most people don't like walking through the rain and that others theoretically enjoy the process but don't walk in the rain because they dislike arriving at their destinations wet. However, unless I have something of a very pressing importance at the other end of my journey, I find that I try to catch every raindrop I can on the way.

Even underneath the scaffolding at the intersection of Main St. and Vassar St., many Cambridge residents navigate carefully to avoid the few drops of rain that might sneak through the wooden panels above them. In light of this, it shouldn't be surprising that you make great time by taking the path that maximizes the number of times you are hit by water droplets falling through the planks. Pseudo-random neuron firings (prnf to the zephyr world) worded this moment more poetically:

As I am drifting to catch raindrops who glide off the scaffolding,
I become as unnoticeable to the hustling city folk
as I have made the droplets to the setting concrete.

A couple of hours later that day, I began writing a minimalistic piece for the piano, which I finished it up last Friday. Here are a couple of phrases from the beginning:

Beginning of Raindrops score

About halfway through the piece's composition, I noted that it was eerily reminiscent of my moment deliberately walking in the rain. I was also contented to note that its relationship with a short, poetic phrase meant I didn't have to come up with a more traditional title for the little song.

You can view, or perhaps even play, the complete piano score.

(Fun fact: the title of this post is from Gilbert & Sullivan's The Gondoliers, specifically a line from "Dance a Cachuca." This was the first song I sang with my high school's concert choir.)

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