Naps, a miracle puppy, and paying attention.

(Hi! This is a repeat of my last SubStack post, repeated from my new home on Buttondown. Let me know how it goes?)

2024. What do we say about such a year? Post-election polling suggests that we’re super mad but not sure exactly what about. We’re worn out by the drama we’re addicted to and fatigued by the sheer scale of corruption across all of society. This morning I read about a doctor in Montana who has made millions - and so has his hospital - through bogus cancer diagnoses and treatments, who has a town full of ardent supporters. I read about the conclusion of that awful trial in France, and about another police force that protected an abuser for years.

And in much less violent news, I read the proof, after years of rumors and finally some investigative reporting (not for lack of trying), that Spotify has been paying musicians to create quick content for some playlists, making those musicians sign away their rights to royalties, and then prioritizing that content in their algorithm so as to decrease their royalty payments overall.

Spotify finally became profitable through cannibalizing musicians - but their moves were made possible by our inattention. Their own analytics ten years ago showed how many listeners were using some genres - ambient, classical, and jazz especially - as background music. Spotify decided, if they’re not paying attention, they won’t notice if, say, Brian Eno disappears from the ambient lists or Rudolf Serkin from piano, replaced by someone you’ve never heard of playing a thing you don’t recognize.

Our attention is stolen and eroded even as the activities that build it are increasingly outsourced or made impossible. What helped you hang on to your attention this year? For me, reading, resting, practicing, and writing strengthened my tether to this earth and to other people. Listen, I also did plenty of doomscrolling and what felt like self-image and friendship maintenance on social platforms. So my practice wasn’t perfect.

Fortunately, it didn’t have to be.

Here’s a lil list of the things that moved the needle of my attention this year.

And after this post, I’m moving the location of my writing off of SubStack. If you are a subscriber, free or paid, you shouldn’t have to do anything except keep opening up your email. Buttondown is not nearly as slick an interface, but it’s clean, simple, and mine. I hope you’ll join me here.

Music Minus None

Truly, writing this newsletter and listening to your responses, from commentary to advice to correction, has been the biggest game changer this year. The writing you helped me do led to my first paid article, my first book collaboration, and a regular practice that has reconfigured my days and my brain space. Thank you so much for being a part of it. Like I said above, it doesn’t have to be perfect to start moving the needle. If you’ve got thoughts in your head, start writing them down and see what happens.

Japan and the New National Opera Studio

The weeks I spent with this talented, dedicated, kind group of artists were some of the most fulfilling of my career. A big part of this was having to communicate through (a truly great) interpreter (Akiko, thank you a thousand times). I had to slow down and consider differently what I was saying, and had to listen differently as well. When I look at this picture I’m still overwhelmed with this group’s generosity of spirit.

Minerva

Things you don’t plan for, like for instance three abandoned puppies showing up at your house. We kept one. We didn’t ever want a dog and now we’re hers. Our days revolve around something other than our gigs and home maintenance. I’m just grateful for this smart girl, more than I can say.

Walking in a Waco Wonderland

So yes - I worked hard, tried new stuff, stepped outside of my comfort zone, and accepted an unexpected gift. And then, I gravitated back to home base.

Mom hasn’t been to Texas for ten years. When we were living in the Midwest, where we’re from and where she is, visiting was simple. Then we moved during the years of no travel due to Covid, followed by the long final illness of Mom’s husband. It was all a huge change for her, such a lover of excursion. When I asked her if she’d come visit, she said yes right away.

I wanted to see Texas through her eyes. I wanted to be near the aura of a woman so resilient. Twice widowed, she has faced harder work, more difficult decisions, and more delicate negotiations than any I have ever experienced. As we find ourselves living in the home we love, working jobs we love, in a place we feel increasingly ambivalent about, knowing for a number of reasons that we’ll ride out the coming storms here - more than anything, I just wanted my mom.

She loved the Baylor Christmas concert, she loved the changing trees and didn’t compare them unfavorably to their northern counterparts, she loved the little coffee shops and bars, she loved my good colleagues and students and the long country drive to our house. And she loved our puppy. She told me I was lucky and that we were doing a good job. I am an old, and I needed to hear it.

Thanks, Dianne, for loving us and caring that we are OK here, and for inspiring me every day. You make 85 look pretty great…which gives me hope for the future.

Let’s go.

Thanks for being part of the ‘Stack years (Okay, year and a half)!

You can reconfirm your subscription if necessary. I’m also shifting to a pay what you want model. You can still subscribe and read for free, but you can also shoot me some monies if you want to support my writing.

Collaborative solidarity forever :)