Claire’s most recent portrait, showing, I think, her increasingly bold use of paint in portraiture. And here’s our friend, Linda, showing our Christmas tree still up, as January  turns to February…

Just thinking about that Station Manager up at 116th Street on the 2/3 line, Ea Mingo. Ea Mingo. I keep hearing it in my head. Real name? After a while it began to morph into, “Hey amigo…”

Herebelow (such a word?), hierunten in German, snaps of my 3170 undergrad class on the first day, lookin’ friendly in my damn-braces-bless-relaxes classroom.

 

 

 

And here (left) a gorgeous pic from the recent revival of our opera of The Secret Garden.

As observant subway travelers know, Station Managers have the most interesting names of any class of human being.

My beloved collaborator (greeting me for work, as a composer should, in his dressing-gown) smitten by a thought!

Left, what happens to any who linger too long in the frozen north (turn into bears): in this case, at Tony’s pizza place on 28 just outside Phoenicia, where I came across two hardy souls walking the 4 or 5 miles from and 4 or 5 miles back to Chichester just for some of Tony’s buffalo wings – pretty good wings, but ten miles in snow flying horizontally is a steep price to pay. I gave them a lift but it was barely a half mile till I reached my own destination, where I was already 15 mins late for my appointment.

My appt was with the maestro (right), who was also 15 mins late, as it turned out, for our Beethoven-play rehearsal, having driven down at 20 mph from his home on Hog Mountain above Fleischmanns.

At my home, some painting going on cozily with snowy landscape beyond, and Dan at his computer, studying the strange but evocative garb worn by Japanese toolkit guys (they look like samurai with tool belts, sporting big brown skirts – yes, skirts, not shirts).

Back to the city (classes begin once more), and colorful moments! (Puts me in mind of Mike Leigh, pal from Manchester days, 50 years ago almost, and his early film, Bleak Moments, a title I admired so much, as I did Mike’s fearless signature style.) Colorful moments in the subway is what I meant – here and now – colorful often in one way or another, this time thanks to the great Cosmos (‘Cosmos from Coast to Coast!’), tireless elderly percussionist, 30 years a subway performer, in his glorious outfit (“You want photo shoot?” he asked); and on top of this a mass of LaRouchies with their impassioned pleas – Impeach Obama! Putin is your Friend! (Friend, not fiend, I wanted to suggest for a banner.)

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