Hearing the End in Sight

It's funny what sounds accomplish what work. I just put Maire O'Keeffe's album Coisir on while I race to finish the more mundane parts of this grant application, and suddenly I can smell summer in the Blue Ridge, feel the wind of Spanish Point on my face, and just generally think of having fun. I love this album--it's rough in nearly every way: the recording quality isn't spectacular (but it beats the hell out of Mary Custy's cd with the picture of herself and Eoin O'Neill in Doolin on the front--can't remember the title right now--but another album I love), and sometimes Maire's intonation is a little dodgy. But the spirit is all there, and the drive, and I love the Cape Breton-y piano accompaniment, and--well, it's great altogether. (And it's a good thing I think so, as Donal O'Connor tells me my playing reminds him of Maire's, as once also did Paul MacDonald in Cape Breton, who played on the album!)

Now if only Maire's little sister Aoife (who's my age) would do an album of her own. Aoife's one of the loveliest fiddle players I've ever met, and whose praises should be sung from the rooftops of the trad world (more than they are already).

And now I'd better get back to work.

(Yes, someday I'll learn how to do fadas in HTML.)