Who's Feeling Young Now?

Last night Gracie, one of my best school friends, and I went to go see the Punch Brothers at the Wonder Ballroom.  I think I've already talked about how brilliant the Punch Brothers are, but this concert....
Man, this concert was incredible.  The stunningly talented Aoife O'Donovan opened for them, singing, among other things, her songs "Red And White And Blue And Gold" (the most summery song I've heard in quite some time, reminiscent of New England beaches and long Tennessee nights by the lake) and another original song, "Beekeeper."
The Punch Brothers were on tour to promote their new album, "Who's Feeling Young Now?"  "Who's Feeling Young Now?" has a different mood than Antifogmatic - the songs are somehow a little more rhythmic almost, with a little more edge.  "Patchwork Girlfriend" is somewhere between quite funny and almost too close to home, "No Concern of Yours" is a little angry or bitter but quite poignant, "Hundred Dollars" is beautifully cruel, and "Soon or Never" is beautiful and quiet and true.  I could go on - tell you about the song "Who's Feeling Young Now?" and the quiet and lovely "Clara" and "Don't  Get Married Without Me," which contains the lovely line "Let's not fool ourselves, 'cause we aren't cowards, we aren't liars, we're just two people who are not in love... right now."
When I first heard the album, honestly, I was unsure.  In my defense, "Antifogmatic" might be my favourite album in the history of, well, ever - and hearing something from the Punch Brothers that was definitely different was kind of a shock.  But on hearing it in concert and spending more time with the record, I'm convinced.  It might (might) even eclipse "Antifogmatic" as my favourite record.
At the concert I went to last night, Aoife O'Donovan and Chris Thile (with help from the other Punch Brothers) performed their song "Here and Heaven" from the Goat Rodeo Sessions (another incredible album with incredible people that I cannot recommend enough).
This is one of the few (maybe the only band) whose concerts I go to with absolute elation.  This time around, I knew almost every word to every song and Gracie and I stood at the very front, leaning our elbows on the sold-out stage.  These guys are going to get incredibly famous sometime very soon, and it will be harder and harder to see them in small venues.  So go, while you still can.  Seriously.
(photo from here)

Have a lovely weekend!

Hi guys,
I'm sorry I've been so late on posting lately.  I've just had a ton of work - the life of a Reed student, I guess!  The best part, though, is that it's work I really want to do - I find myself excited to do my humanities and French reading, and I always look forward to the Bach homework.
I also find myself taking more risks this semester - while last semester I spent most of my time on campus and just hanging out with my friends on weekends, this semester I make an effort to actually do things.  I go to most of the concerts on campus every Friday or so, and this weekend I plan on seeing Giselle with friends.
What are you up to?
(blurry photo from Commons by me)

Developmental Biology

If you've been reading this for a while, you've probably picked up that I'm not exactly a scientist.  I write about books I love, about music and family and travel.
However, today was the last lecture of my developmental biology module at Reed, and I would just like to talk about my lecturer for a second.
Professor Steve Black is retiring this year, and he made biology fascinating for me.  He taught me about how masterful genes aren't always masterful, about the difference between radial and spiral cleavage, about how pharmaceutical companies are out to make money and not really to help you.  I learned that the surrealists were fascinated by sea urchins and about mosaic development.  He explained meiosis in the most simple and clear manner so that I finally understood what was going on.
I learned a lot of biology in the past so many weeks, but I've also learned to love biology.  I never thought I was going to enjoy looking at sea urchin eggs under a microscope - I was honestly just taking bio to get my huge science requirement out of the way - but somehow I do enjoy it.
Today Steve came in wearing a tie-dyed blazer and ended the lecture rapping about everything we'd learned.  I love my school.

Today

It is cold and grey in Portland today, like so many days, but beautiful, and I have a vase of flowers from a secret admirer to brighten the afternoon!
What have you been up to this Valentine's Day?  Every so often, in the middle of developmental biology or Aristotle or my absolutely incredible JS Bach class, I'll remember that I was in Paris this time last year.  It's hard to believe, and I still miss it all the time - coffee in the Pacific Northwest, while incredible, isn't the same as an espresso on my balcony at Place Denfert-Rochereau.
I'm also still getting over my illness, so thank you so so much for being patient with the barely-there posting!  I'll get better and post more often, I promise!
(the photo is of a bridge in Hampstead Heath, from the BBC)

Sick

Hello blog readers!
I'm sorry I've not been around - I've got tons of work and on top of that, I'm sick with something...
But in other news, have you seen these stamps?!  Is it impractical to send for British stamps to Portland?  Probably....

Happy Friday

Hello, blog readers, happy Friday!
I'm a bit sick today, but I'm still looking forward to the weekend.  This afternoon I'm going to a talk on Stravinsky, and tomorrow I'm going to the Oregon symphony!  I'm super excited - they're performing Beethoven's fourth, one of my favourites.  The rest of the weekend will probably be work and (maybe) a little Superbowl-watching - I have to support the Pats, after all!
 (photo of lost tourists in Paris by me)

Paris

One year ago today, I moved to Paris.  I got on a plane in Boston by myself, waltzed through Heathrow the next morning, and ended up at Charles de Gaulle, and, from there, to my lovely flat at Denfert-Rochereau.
The first couple days in Paris were scary - all on my own, with the wrong kind of visa and a sun that didn't come out until eight-thirty, an iffy-at-best grasp on the language.  But I loved it - I loved the bare branches of the square-cut trees in the Jardin du Luxembourg and my quiet cafés and walks down the river - especially in February and March, when the tourists hadn't yet arrived in droves, where some streets were still my streets and didn't belong to the millions of other people making Paris theirs.
Some streets still are my streets - Rue Daguerre with Thévenin's buttery croissants, or Rue de Sevres or Boulevard Raspail - those will always be mine.  And I know the code to get into a complex with a courtyard and gardens and a beautiful room with a piano that I visited to hear jazz concerts.  I know the code to get into the ancient building where I lived the last month of my Paris experience in the third, and I know the cool dark stairwell of the Denfert-Rochereau flat.
I miss Paris, but it will always be mine, and I'll come back to it soon.  That's a promise.
(rooftops from my window, by me)