My thoughts have gone all over the place thinking about band. Ultimately I perched on the ceramics I did one fall at the Gardiner Museum. I participated in a group for adult survivors of childhood sexual abuse. We were to make a place setting that illustrated our experience in some way. I was so humiliated and upset by what came out of me. It was so ugly! But I couldn't change it and after all my life has been ugly. One of the pieces I made was a bass clarinet. I also made skis as chopsticks since skiing was another thing I loved. There were Japanese bridges or chopstick holders and a notebook and pen for writing.
The most troubling aspects were the male figure and the central pie-shaped plate with the attached chain and shackle. I made a circle and divided it into seven as everything was in our house. Our serving, our place, set in stone! My mother would take a brick of ice cream and cut off a wee bit for my youngest brother and then divide the rest into 6. She could dish out a stew and divvy up the meat according to her personal calculations -- always more for the men.
Towards the end of his life my father said with great pride that he had treated all his children exactly the same. Apart from being a complete lie it was an outrageous comment to make. Who in their right minds (ha!) would believe that 5 children would be identical? But there we were, chained to our fixed slice of the pie. Life as a zero sum game. No wonder we five never connected, never became friends. Competition for the crumbs was constant.
Of course I don't mean we fought out loud. I don't imagine there could be a more quiet house with 5 kids inside -- apart from competing music systems. No, we fought with meanness, lack of respect or care. Lack of connection. We were never taught that feelings are actually exponential -- contagious. More and more joy for example instead of none.
Way back in 1970 I was still shackled. In Japan I was overwhelmed by everything -- the heat and humidity, the culture, the attention we received -- and at the same time fascinated. I still am.
After our trip the band leader quit. The assistant conductor tried for a season but the band fell apart. I went to university -- another story -- and tried a few times to particpate in making music, usually on the clarinet. And now here I am in the Senior Band. There are 5 clarinets at the moment in our group. The other four began in September. One of the four couldn't even read music! And here we are rehearsing together on a Monday.
