Friday, January 18, 2008


I'm doing some mindless copying and pasting of codes from one spreadsheet to another, and I just put in the Benedictine Monks' Chant II CD I borrowed from the library.

With my new JBL earbuds, I am content to sit here all day.

Mr. Neslusan said to make sure I take time just to listen to the music. Whenever I enjoy a really good moment of "just listening," I think about how lucky I am to have known him and learned from him in high school. He only officially taught music, but I think know I would be a very different person had I not spent all those extra hours in our made-up Philosophy 101 class (a couple faithful disciples sitting on the ratty ol' chairs in his office discussing the nature of evil and other miscellaneous and extemporaneous ponderings) and had he not forced me to go way beyond my musical comfort zone. I like who I am now a whole lot more than I would have liked the Neslusan-less Kimberly.

(He went to UMass Lowell and knows this area at least as well as we do. I selfishly wish he'd move back here.)

Chant II alone reminds me of his tiny office, the office of an under-appreciated music director in an under-appreciated area of public education. It was one of the albums always at the ready for musical demonstrations. Before that, the curious cover intrigued me every time I got my CD-club catalog when I was in middle school. I always wanted to listen to it just for its cover.

The music is satisfyingly as curious. My new device blocks out most of the noise around me. I can hear the monks moving and breathing, other people coughing and clearing their throat, and the best noise of all: the pulsing, organic hum of the tape it was recorded on.

Right now I'm getting work done, but I'm also just listening.

And I feel very, very good.


Danielle A. said...

It's funny how different kinds of music can bring back so many different memories. Awesome post. :)

Kimberly Pye said...

Thank you.