once a month my sister's church has "bluegrass sunday." my brother-in-law helps lead the band. he has a beautiful singing voice and has played the guitar and piano all his life without lessons (my sister once took a piano course with him in college and was constantly annoyed with him as he would ask her to play the song they were supposed to have learned during the week one hour before class . . and then of course would play it perfectly while she was still struggling after hours practicing). he's standing fourth from the left, guitar in hand.
by day the blue will pale down into white where it touches the white of the land, after sunset it has a new circumference-orange, melting upwards into tenderest purple. but the core of blue persists, and so it is by night. then the stars hang like lamps from the immense vault. the distance between the vault and them is as nothing to the distance behind them, and that farther distance, though beyond colour, last freed itself from blue. -e.m. forster (a passage to india)
Sunday, April 26, 2015
bluegrass sunday
once a month my sister's church has "bluegrass sunday." my brother-in-law helps lead the band. he has a beautiful singing voice and has played the guitar and piano all his life without lessons (my sister once took a piano course with him in college and was constantly annoyed with him as he would ask her to play the song they were supposed to have learned during the week one hour before class . . and then of course would play it perfectly while she was still struggling after hours practicing). he's standing fourth from the left, guitar in hand.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)

No comments:
Post a Comment