Buona vita nel'anno nouvo. Is that the way its said? I guess that would be saying that the good life, buona vita, is in, "inside of", nel, the new year. Which isn't what I meant, but sort of nice. Poetical. And thats my question. Does the poetical blurring of reality by language create some of the meta-substances we base so much of our lives on? I don't think so, but its a question anyway.
Vivaldi! He, formidable master of the Baroquean pitch, is the composer of the week. I've been listening to the Four Seasons, which you've heard nearly in entirety even if you think you haven't. La Stravaganza is next in the queue. His music feels like the Californian New Year: bright, busy, wealthy.