Sunday, the last morning of Big Ears, Tikka and I both slept late, at least as compared to our normal schedule. When we went downstairs the street was already filled with people. We were 20 minutes from the starting bell for the Knoxville Marathon, and the starting gate was right outside our hotel. Tikka was a little excited but she happily walked over to the little garden where she normally took her morning piddle stop and hoped up over the short wall. There were several runners in place, using the wall for their pre-run stretch. Tikka, never shy, jumped between them and took care of business. I apologized, half heartedly, because really I was just laughing at the image of Tikka and the runners all in a line taking care of their various morning necessaries. A little absurdity to start the day.
Then we went back upstairs and I had coffee and breakfast in the bar/restaurant, where I could watch the start of the marathon. As Tikka and I took our morning walk, a little later, we would occasionally cross the marathon route, encountering pockets of runners or bicyclists, and it made for an exciting variation on our downtown morning walk.
And then it was back to the music. My notes on Sunday are a little sketchier as I didn't really write my thoughts down, grateful to simply being there, enjoying the music. Whereas Saturday I had stayed mostly in the southern tier of the concert venues, Sunday I primarily stuck to the northern portion of Gay Street, attending concerts at the Standard and the Mill and Mine.
Anyway, I started the day with the Tyshawn Storey Trio at the Mill and Mine. The Mill and Mine is kind of a good sized, cavernous room, and the group really managed to play with the dynamics of the room well, creating a flowing sense of movement in the space, alternating between power and a sensitive quietude, from the piano and the bass, but also from the drums. The group were really beautifully in tune with each other and the space, and it was a marvelous concert.
Next I wandered over to the Standard, but I took the long way around, rather than over the Bridge, which was a gentler walk. There I heard a young musician named Rostam, whom I knew only because he used to be a part of the band Vampire Weekend. The concert was fun and infectious, making me smile and want to sing and dance.
Then it was back over the bridge to Suuns. I was walking very slowly, and I stopped to take this photo along the way. And somehow I just realized I didn't even try to take photos of musicians on Sunday, and that is also fine. I still enjoyed the music and I enjoyed Suuns, but it was loud, and perhaps not as fascinating as the previous two concerts, or I was just beginning to feel antsy. I thought that if I left early I could perhaps slowly make my way south to the Bijou for Abigail Washburn and Wu Fei, so I very slowly made my way up the hill.
But by the time I got to Chivo, a taqueria just over the top of the hill, I was wondering if I would indeed be able to make it to the Bijou, so I stopped and had lunch. I enjoyed my tacos, and thought about what I could do next. I figured my best option was to head back toward the Standard and catch Julie Byrne, which I enjoyed, before leaving early and heading back to the Mill and Mine for Kieran Hedban and Mats Gustafsson. Although I loved that concert, I also realized that I was no longer comfortable and was fast approaching my limit, so I ubered back to my hotel for a rest.
The break was good, and afterward, perhaps just because I had finally figured out what was going on, walking became much easier. I could walk and stand all I wanted, although sitting would became problematic, not at all unusual for a disc-related scenario. I went to the Tennessee Theater to hear Nief Norf perform Steve Reich's 'Quartet', which was short, but also electrifying, and for which I stood. Then I actually had time to stop at Nama for some sushi before heading up and over the hill to hear the Craig Taborn Quartet for a fabulous concert that seemed to blend and push genres, mixing electronica and jazz and classical ideas into something that seemed perfectly itself and a perfect way to end a fabulous weekend. I made my back to my hotel and collapsed in contentment.
Last week was intentionally quiet and low-key, and as a result my back has continued to improve. I am by now pretty close to back to normal. I did walk, and I also did a little gardening on Wednesday. My goal was simply to get something in the planters out front as I am on the Dogwood Trail and although the beds and yard were all clean, the planters were still empty. I picked up some ferns for the planters by the front door. They are probably too large, but the selection in the nurseries was still slim, and once they start to grow they may have to move elsewhere. But they look pretty from the street now, and I have a good spot to put them later in the season so I am content.
I also managed to find some plants for the smaller planters. I don't quite know how these will work out yet, but it is a good attempt, soft grayed-greens to offset the rosemary in the round planters, and a variety of coleus plants in the tower, mixing upright and prostrate varieties. At least the front looks intentional. While I was at the nursery I also found some grasses and plants I had been hoping to put in a bed that I cleaned out last fall, a small bed filled with weeds, or more exactly, perennials that were too large for the space, and obscured the shrubs and Japanese maple that were there, and which I wanted to save. My own theory is that a weed is just a perennial in the wrong spot, (and vice versa). It felt good to have my hands in the dirt, to spend a couple of hours in the garden, and to be upright and pain-free afterward. Hopefully I've got things in the right spots, my ideas are good, and the garden will thrive. I always feel it is a guessing game, but one worth pursuing, and this reminds me that I need to start a garden journal. I had one in Hyde Park, where I had drawings and diagrams and planting information, and I could see the evolution of the yard, what worked and what failed.
I can't help myself. I have another project.