woodwinds of the past

(I was just looking at my saved "Drafts" in Blogger, which contains mostly posts that I started and didn't finish, but then also includes posts I wrote and decided (for any of various reasons) not to post. Here would be an example of something that I apparently decided not to post. I think I didn't post it because it was something I wrote when I was traveling to give a talk, and when I do that there are people who Google me for the first time, and some of them click over to my blog--especially since it's now the first thing when you Google "Jeremy Freese--and apparently the post was not the first impression that I wanted to make on unknown faculty or students at the place I was visiting. Go figure.)

It's way past 2am, and I can't sleep. The guestroom where I am staying has an original painting on the wall across from the bed by Rodger Roundy (check out the site; a lot of the work is very good). The painting came into the hands of my friend after it was barred from an exhibit for being "too graphic." The painting is mostly this sea of red books. A college-aged woman is lying in it, and a man is standing over her. She is in her underwear, and he is in his boxers. Protruding from the fly of his boxers is a clarinet. (Yes, a clarinet.) I think this painting is the reason I am having trouble falling asleep, as I do not want any part of this painting showing up in my dreams.