Oh, sisters let's go down.

I want to take you to this past Monday when I was in Stephenville. I went with the Celtic Ensemble to Tarelton State University to give a masterclass and performance. The masterclass was invigorating. Dr. Smith, our instructor, is amazing at reaching out to other students. The majority of the students that showed up were trumpet, trombone, and saxophone players, which are not traditional celtic instruments (as oboe is not a traditional celtic instrument), but he worked with them. They were jazz players, so he related learning celtic music to how people learn jazz, and then told us about their differences. Celtic music places more of an emphasis on melody, so you don't have the complicated undertones that you do in jazz. I had NO idea! It makes sense, of course, and I had always kind of wondered why we all just kind of played together and didn't really have parts. It's cool that that is the way the music is supposed to be.

But I would want to take you specifically to after the masterclass. The professor who invited us to Tarelton took us to her house and fed us pizza. One of the women in the ensemble (I've stopped using the word "girls" I think it's slightly degrading) is allegoric to cats, so she stayed outside on the porch. A few people gathered with her, and they started singing. It was beautiful. They sang "down to the river", "go to sleep little baby"...man I don't know the names, but basically the songs on Oh Brother Where Art Thou. And they could sing! Occasionally we do group pieces in the ensemble, but it's hard to hear individuals over everyone else (which is good perhaps). So I never really get to hear these women sing, and they have beautiful beautiful voices. I spent my dinner outside, on the porch, on a swing, listening to songs I don't ever remember really hearing but somehow knowing the words to.

Music is a beautiful thing.

It's odd of me to think of myself as a musician, but I had the realization this weekend that I was. It's exciting to consider myself as such.