School Schedule....Almost final...

I still have to make some changes to my school schedule, but here is what I have for sure:

Monday
9:00am-9:50am: Intro to Music Industry Studies, Mrs. Wangler
10:00am-10:50am: Survey of Western Music, Dr. Semmes
2:00pm-2:50pm: Intro to World Music, Dr. Semmes
5:00pm-6:00pm: Voice Studio Class, Dr. Amaya
7:00pm-9:00pm: Appalachian Choral, Dr. Hopton-Jones

Tuesday
(NO CLASS!!!)

Wednesday

9:00am-9:50am: Intro to Music Industry Studies, Mrs. Wangler

10:00am-10:50am: Survey of Western Music, Dr. Semmes

2:00pm-2:50pm: Intro to World Music, Dr. Semmes

Thursday

(NO CLASS!!!)

Friday

9:00am-9:50am: Intro to Music Industry Studies, Mrs. Wangler

10:00am-10:50am: Survey of Western Music, Dr. Semmes

1:00pm-1:50pm: Performance Seminar

2:00pm-2:50pm: Intro to World Music, Dr. Semmes

At some point, I will be doing a voice lesson once a week with Dr. Amaya :) Since I placed out of Contemporary Musicianship I until next semester, then HOPEFULLY I can take Artist Management or something. I am also supposed to be taking Survey of Management, but the one I am in now conflicts with my Voice Studio Class, so I can't add it. All of the other ones are full, but I'm working on switching to another time...We'll see. Anyways, the first three days haven't been too bad! :)

El cántaro roto

El cántaro roto

La lluvia...

Ojos de aqua de sombra,

ojos de agua de pozo,

ojos de aqua de sueńo.

Soles azules, verdes remolinos,

picos de luz que abren astros

como granadas.

Dime, tierra quemada, no hay aqua?

hay sólo sangre, sólo hay polvo,

sólo pisadas de pies desnudos sobre la espina?

La lluvia despierta...

Hay que domir con los ojos abiertos,

hay que soñar con les manos,

soñemos sueños activos de río buscando su cauce,

sueños de sol soñando sus mundos,

hay que soñar en voz alta,

hay que cantar hasta que el canto eche,

raíces, tronco ramas pájaros, astros,

hay que desenterrar la palabra perida,

recordar lo que dicen la sangre y la marea,

le tierra y el cuerpo,

volver al punto de partida...

Octavio Paz, adapted by Eric Whitacre

 

Cloudburst

The broken water-jar

The rain...

Eyes of shadow‐water,

eyes of well water,

eyes of dream‐water.

Blue suns, green whirlwinds,

birdbeaks of light pecking open

pomegranate stars.

But tell me, burnt earth, is there no water?

Only blood, only dust,

only naked footsteps on the thorns?

The rain awakens…

We must sleep with open eyes,

we must dream with our hands,

we must dream the dreams of a river seeking its course,

of the sun dreaming its worlds,

we must dream aloud,

we must sing till the song puts forth roots,

trunk, branches birds, stars,

we must find the lost word,

and remember what the blood,

the tides, the earth, and the body say,

and return to the point of departure...

Translation by Lysander Kemp