A Luminous Halo

"Life is not a series of gig lamps symmetrically arranged; life is a luminous halo, a semi-transparent envelope surrounding us from the beginning of consciousness to the end." --Virginia Woolf

My Photo
Location: Springfield, Massachusetts, United States

Smith ’69, Purdue ’75. Anarchist; agnostic. Writer. Steward of the Pascal Emory house, an 1871 Second-Empire Victorian; of Sylvie, a 1974 Mercedes-Benz 450SL; and of Taz, a purebred Cockador who sets the standard for her breed. Happy enough for the present in Massachusetts, but always looking East.

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Jazz in the Park

Today was Taz's first professional photo shoot. The illustrator for my book-in-progress wanted to take some pictures of her, as an aid in making up a story board to show to our publisher. We chose my kitchen for a location because it was extremely bright, Taz couldn't escape and run amok, and it was familiar turf for her.

A few treats and she ran through all her tricks: sitting pretty, lying down, walking on her hind legs, dancing, etc., etc. The hardest pose to get her to assume was simply resting her head on my lap...it's not a "trick," and she was too wired to rest on her own. Overall, however, we were pleased with the results.

As the photo shoot wound down, things were heating up in the park behind my house. A little jazz concert was scheduled for 7:00, and once a bright canopy and a sound system had been set up, strains of music began to drift in through my open windows. Just the musicians warming up, but it sounded good enough that my illustrator thought it was the actual concert. And it did seem as though it was my own private entertainment. My kitchen windows are only a dozen feet from the park.

Tonight was Jana Byrdd and Friends, a trio, with Jana on sax, and the "friends" on trombone and keyboard. The Armoury-Quadrangle Civic Association sponsored the concert, and paid for it with money from a small grant. The press releases never hit the paper, and turnout was poor, but that wasn't my problem. After my illustrator had left, I walked into the park and joined some fellow AQCA members for the remainder of the concert. Then made the 30-second trek to my house and went back to work. Just one of the many perks of living downtown.