428

"Again and again and again and again..." This is the thought pattern of an aspiring artist. Repetition. Not just repetition but concerted, focused, deliberate repetition. I am not one who likes to whittle. Quite frankly, I don't know many people who are. Yet it's those that take the time to whittle little by little that somehow create the most intricate and meaningful works of art. This is my whittling season.

Have you ever watched a woodcarver? I had the opportunity to watch a wood craftsman on a regular basis while working at an 1880's pioneer themed amusement park, Silver Dollar City. Hours and hours spent chipping away at a small wooden box, but what a result! Little by little is more effect for the detailed woodcarver than chunk by chunk.

I practiced at Eastman today. It was much quieter than I had expected. In fact, during my first session I only heard the faint sound of a flute and violin on the floor above me. During my second session this afternoon I was audience to a full-bodied soprano voice ricocheting off the parking garage wall and into my practice room. Each phrase was an unending sigh.

MY practice room, 428. I've deemed this MY room because on occasion I can feel the vibrations in my head and chest aligning to send a laser of sound smacking the parking garage wall next door. My voice can ricochet too. Not consistently in a full-bodied timbre, but that will come with the whittling. More importantly I've deemed this MY practice room because of Isaiah 42:8. It reads:

"I am the Lord; that is my name; my glory I give to no other, nor my praise to carved idols." 

What better scripture reference, if I may call it that, sealed plainly on the door to where much coveting and idolatry of a superb instrument takes place. Yet, He alone must receive the glory! When I enter 428 my agenda must fall out the window. It's written on the door. 

In other news... We had a wonderful dinner with friends last night. Fresh, summer salads and fruit at the house followed by Abbott's Custard and a walk along the pier in Charlotte. Now, for all  of my readers from the south, be aware this is pronounced [shar-lot] with the accent on the second syllable, not [shar-let] with the accent on the first syllable. I am learning all sorts of new pronunciations! 

Dephanie Lilite, a dear friend, gave me a bucket list for my summer. After consulting with the ladies, I'll definitely be checking everything off the list and then some. I look forward to sharing the checkmarks with all of you!