Karen Bjork Kubin

Saturday, May 7, 2016

(This is not about violin--

but most of what we are doing during lessons and classes is not actually about violin.)

Recently one of my 3rd graders caught a glimpse of the top of my head while I was tuning her violin.

"Your hair is turning white!"

"Yes, it is! That's okay. I actually kind of like it."

She nodded.

"I guess I'm getting older and changing, just like you are." It was really only as I said these words that I realized how true they were. Had I known this, before it came up?

I cannot tell you how often something like this happens. It seems like it would be enough, just learning a skill like how to play an instrument. But there is always so much more going on. The focus is violin. We work pretty hard on that. But what it is about lies always just below the surface of what we do every day, and sometimes rises above, glimmering. I love these moments more than words can say.

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Wednesday, May 4, 2016

Recently--Spring 2016

Music and dance and field trips and State Solo and Ensemble contest and recitals and concerts! And plans for the summer and plans for next year. It is hard to even think straight, this time of year, but somehow we always make it to summer. In between, especially as the kids get older, are conversations about music and art and justice and politics and kindness. Oldest shares what he is listening to. Middle, even if she is sleeping over at a friend's house and her phone is dead, will make sure I know the moon is rising outside, full and magical. Youngest shares her art and her passion and her compassion. Husband brings home mystery snails and we delight in them, some of us maybe wishing we could move through the world the way they do. And there are small treasures to find outside as the world warms and greens: seeds and sprouts, fireflies, the sound of frogs, the scent of lilacs and honeysuckle.

Monday, April 4, 2016

All along, while some things were waiting,

other things were growing. Many are now in full bloom, and it is every bit as right to be stopped in one's tracks by the obvious beauty out there as it is to be stopped by the quiet and hidden beauty. I suspect they are working together. And clearly nothing is ever finished.