Interlude

The Saturday morning sunlight is hitting the hammered copper timpani bowls and throwing fractured patterns all over the floor.

I have things to do and places to be today, including my friend Joni's commitment ceremony in the late afternoon. There is laundry churning in the basement as I type. It's been another week of working alongside my dad on the apartment project that never ends. Next week is Concert Week (the Season 32 debut concert), which means our home life will be turned on its head no matter how much Warren and I plan.

I have notes for future blog posts: community, social justice, money, the incredible fellowship of women in my life. We will be gone all day tomorrow for a rehearsal and concert in the Cincinnati area.

There's a lot going on and I need to turn my hands and attention to the day.

But I got sidetracked this morning by the light show the timpani and the sun decided to put on in the percussion room. And then I read this Facebook post from Magpie Yarns, a custom yarn shop and the heart of a large spinning and knitting community in Lexington, Kentucky that is owned by my friend Jane:

Monster Socks at Sock Club today. Bring any leftover bits of sock yarn to share, wind off puddles of color, and cast on. Let it be random (if you can), or build harmonized patterns. Knit twins or just distant relatives. Every pair of monsters is unique.

I love that phrase: wind off puddles of color. I know winding off is the act of turning a skein into a ball of yarn, but I imagine these puddles of color - turquoise, fuchsia, copper - pooling on the floor of the shop and then miraculously turning into socks.

Jane's phrase reminded me of a quote attributed to Paul Cézanne: "we live in a rainbow of chaos."

A rainbows of chaos arcing high over puddles of color. Puddles of sheet music. Puddles of laundry and dreams and unwritten blog posts.

I don't know what my day will look like by the time it is over: maybe random, maybe harmonized patterns. Like those monster socks that will be knit at Magpie Yarns later today, each day is unique. All I know is that it will be a good one, one that started with a puddle of copper light illuminating my heart.