Tuesday, February 1, 2011


I burn my candle at both ends
It will not last the night
But oh my foes and oh my friends
It burns a lovely light
- Edna St. Vincent Milay

Edna, I have one thing to say to you: word.

The past two weeks have been absolutely bonkers - a combination of non-stop work events, rehearsals and services, and social obligations have left me zonked and with barely any time for this blog.  I feel that by not blogging I have neglected you, dear readers, but equally I feel that by not blogging I have neglected myself.  As you all know (and are probably sick of reading), this blog is a bit of a creative refuge for me, and as such I find myself somewhat transported when I jot down thoughts/experiences or pretty pictures here.  It really does say something that, given how much this blog means to me, I haven't been able to find or indeed make the time to write.

At the same time, though, I think it says quite a bit about my life here in London that I haven't been able to blog much recently.

On the job front, things are ramping up quite a bit.  I know, I'm not supposed to blog about work, but I will quietly share that my predictions about these few months sans boss have been more or less right on the money, which is incredibly fulfilling from both a personal and a professional standpoint.

By the way, when Jon and I move into our next flat - which is a blog post for another day and absolutely not this day - I will carve out just enough space to make a home office like this one from the fabulous Well-Appointed Desk:

So pretty!  Anyway, where was I?  Oh, yes, bonkersness.

My choir is preparing - or not, but it would be impolitic to elaborate - for our upcoming concert of 20th century French music.  (12 Feb at St. Mary's Balham!  Come one, come all!)  On top of that, I was invited to sing with some new friends on Sunday afternoon at a church around the corner from my house.  Evensong is one of my favorite services of the Anglican liturgy and I haven't participated in one for a long time, so it was really a treat.  We mostly did music I didn't know (Smith responses, Murrill Mag and Nunc, and an Ave Maria by Ambroz Copi as well as a Howells' God be in my head) and it was tons o' fun.

And then, you know, friends plus birthdays/dinners/drinks equals not much downtime even when I'm not working or singing.  Poor Jon - he's been at the losing end of the stick when it comes to doling out quality time.

But!  That will change - are you listening, Jon? - and I will try to be better about my blogging.  Je vous jure, mes amours.  (Sorry, I've been translating French as a favor to someone-who-will-remain-nameless-but-maybe-he-will-repay-me-with-a-trip-to-Paris-as-a-thank-you-hint-hint and so I'm vaguely in the zone...)

Hey, that reminds me: I need to watch Paris, je t'aime again.  It's time.

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