notes from the kelp

…click to listen:

…about the music

Watch out.

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Living in a largely glass house means that while I’m always looking out to the fascinating world around me, the fascinating world can look right back in. And, does. Often.

Each day, I meet my neighbors face to face. No, not the friendly kind that show up asking to borrow a cup of sugar organic honey, but the kind who just show up to taunt me. Yes, that’s right. To taunt, harangue, harass, guilt, cajole and mock me. Not to mention endlessly question how I’m using my time (What?? You’re [walking to the fridge/vacuuming/doing the NYTimes crossword/returning emails/shooting nature photos/feeding the cat] AGAIN, instead of finishing the [notes/orchestration/phrasing and dynamics/proofreading for] the new piece???).

Yup. That’s what’s going on around here. And believe me, it ain’t pretty. I mean, do you see what kind of looks I get??

Well? And?

Gulls are hard to impress. Harder, still, are the otters. They get particularly ornery when they’ve got a fish dangling out the side of their mouth.

Don’t mind me. I’ll just sit here and watch you until you do something that’s actually interesting. Which obviously, could take a while.

The quail always looks at me funny, with that cocked head,

What? You gotta be kidding me.

And the eagle is constantly scolding me.

We are not amused. Try harder. That is, if you were even trying.

The deer are usually a little kinder, if dumber.

Huh? Did you say something? No? Oh, that’s what I thought.

The killer whales like to sneak up with a sudden peek and startle the bejeezus outta me,

Whoosh! Surprise! I seeeeee youuuuuu….! Slacker!!

And the harbor seals just float around and stare. Steadily. For a loooong time.

Uh huh. Just as I suspected. You’re procrastinating. Again.

The cutest, furriest creatures are the most intimidating,

Seriously? You call that music? Aw, c’mon. Even I could do better than that.

If you go with the F# instead of the G, I will kill you.

And hands down, the scariest neighbor on the block is the turkey vulture swirling ominously low above my head, counting down the moments until my welcome demise so that the all-you-can-eat buffet can open for business.

Go on, Alex, walk back to the fridge! Have more ice cream! Composers are tastier when they’re fattened up!

I’m not paranoid. I just believe that I’m being watched, constantly.