Little House in the Woods

    Instead of basking in the sun (and working on college applications) at the beach over vacation this year, we moved. From our town dwelling just near the church, we hauled ourselves into the woods three miles away. Before the closing and driving our first belongings over to the new home, I had never set foot in our woodland abode. And I wasn't entirely sure how I felt about it. But I soon fell in love with the woods that surrounded us. There is an open glade beside the house with a fire ring and looking over the forest is a little deck that we can eat out on. Still, the past two weeks have been hectic and disconcerting. Hopefully things will settle down and we'll be able to get back to a normal schedule.
    Most of the house is not in a state to be displayed to the world, so you'll probably not see a good deal of it, however here are a couple pictures to give you an idea of what it is.

Our lovely long driveway, which we will have to plow every winter.

 The entrance to the underground Batman lair.

Our quaint entrance.

I spent a majority of Sunday afternoon sprawled out here, gazing at the trees and reading. 

There was a solitary pink rose in our backyard flower bed. I tried to take a picture, but I wasn't sure how to make it interesting and not a generic greenery photo.

 My room so far.

 This is the majestic room is our living room.

 A guest room, currently the place we put things if we can't fit them in the right places because of the overwhelming presence of boxes.

This is the window between the sitting room and the kitchen.

It was not the easy getting into this house, but I'm thrilled to be able to see trees around me...lots of trees.

Veronica A.


The Art Galleries in Chelsea

By Jung Uk Yang
    "Do you have any questions?" We turned our heads toward the bespectacled man holding a brown coffee cup. He was the gallery curator, but I saw Stanley Tucci from The Devil Wears Prada; black glasses and a shortly cropped head of grey and black hair.
      "Which piece is your favorite?" My Mom asked, who was trying to educate me in the world of art.
      "I'd have to say that one," he smirked and pointed to a white canvas with large black words cursing out Jesus Christ. "But that's because I did it." I smiled and nodded. "But if I had to choose a different one, I think it'd be that one." And he pointed to a refined, pop-art hanging on the wall.
      My mom and I were in New York City for a cousin's baby-shower and we had the afternoon free. So instead of killing time in some Starbucks downtown, we sauntered our way through Chelsea visiting the art galleries. I wasn't originally thrilled about wandering about rooms with creaking floors and white walls and looking vaguely interested. However, I found that instead of feeling bored and listless, the new scenes drew me in and I attentively viewed the installations as my mom explained modernism. Not to mention, the high powered air conditioning was delightful.

This giraffe was incredible, by Quentin Garel
By Roy Kinzer

Mom doing her research.
I can be fractal too.
One of my favorites by Swoon.
This was my artistic contribution. 
By Stanley Casselman 
That shroud is actually a print of the Wall Street Journal, by Robert Rauschenburg.

    I have to say, I felt incredibly cultured at the end of our tour.

Veronica A.


A Milestone

     Hello Friends! I thought I'd take this opportunity to celebrate a little milestone for my blog. I've reached 100 posts! Two years ago, I decided I'd write something every Wednesday and publish it here. I'd like to say that every time, I was ready with some carefully planned and skillfully executed piece. But I've hurriedly racked my brain for an engaging life tidbit Tuesday night more than I care to admit. Nevertheless, most Wednesdays I have managed to produce something and I'm proud of that.
     To all my faithful readers, thank you. A blog is not purposeful without a readership. I'm grateful for each time you care to visit my humble page. I will continue to strive to create something of worth for your viewing.
     Today will be mostly packing and SAT prep for me, but for The Street Heart it's a little celebration... Oh and I will be eating the rest of that piece of cake.

Veronica A.


We're Moving!

   Instead of camping among aromatic, pillars of wood and leaves for vacation this year, we've decided to move into the forest permanently, at least for my parents. My dad has always wanted to live in the woods, and finally we're setting up shop in such a spot. We'll still be located in the lovely realm of Quarryville. However, our residences might be slightly harder to find now. Pictures to come!

Veronica A.


Csehy:That Magical Summer Camp You Tell Stories About

      My fingers hurt, particularly my fourth finger. Each pluck made me pray for my skin to form  callouses more quickly. The first week was trying on my body- by Saturday my back was sore from sitting up straight for so long and my hands were shaking when I put them to strings. But the joy of finishing with a successful performance on Saturday was enough to make me feel like it was worth it. The duet that I played with the other harpist, required that I learn how to tap dance. With six peddle changes in a row, I was worried I wouldn't make it and a nasty buzz would echo through the hall waking the audience from their musical dreaming. But my fellow harpist and I made it through and celebrated backstage with manly man fist bumps.

      I'm not going to deny that I spent most of choir thinking about lunch. With an hour and half between me and a plate of curly fries, it was difficult to focus. However, our entertaining conductor kept things interesting. Some of the pieces required us to sing in Latin, others to belt our best gospel. The long minutes spent pouring our voices out over each piece were exhausting. But when you put 120 people in one room, God does things. 

     A week of hard work and feverish pencil scribblings on music behind us, we sat in the shade of some pine trees. The topics of conversation drifted from boys to frisbee as the passerbyers sat down to chat for a bit. This was Sunday at Csehy. A summer camp devoted to music and the honing of your ear can be stimulating but exhausting. And a day of rest is much needed after many hours plucking away at strings and sitting straight in choir. The weather wasn't to humid- as some New York summer days could be- it was pleasant. So relaxing with a light breeze and gentle sun, that I sat under those trees for five hours. Not worrying about finishing theory homework or whether or not I could handle the orchestra music. I was just sitting and sharing with some good company.

    Whenever I sat in orchestra, I was inspired. The determination on the faces of my friends as they followed the conductor's wild movements and produced flowing melodies was enough to make me want to become a musician. It was a true honor to be apart of such a phenomenon- children of the one and only King making music for their Lord.

    As the girls gathered in one hallway opposite the boys hustling in the other entrance. Across the tunnel connecting the music buildings, which we had all passed under groggily on our way to chapel or speedily to get back to the dorms for frisbee, we could see each other's comrades as we prepared for escorting. The girls parted like the Red Sea so that everyone could view the first boy who stepped up. We all grew silent so that we could hear him give the name. "Veronica Andr-ey-dis." I was caught completely off guard. So without knowing quite how act, I grinned wide and strode out to meet him to the Red Sea awwwwing.

Csehy Summer School of Music is a magical place.

Veronica A.

*Photos courtesy of the Csehy website


Epitome of a Summer?

Reading late into the night.
The sound of crickets and cicadas.
Ice cream.
Walks to a slowly fading sun.
Happy beats playing on the radio.
Driving through the countryside with the windows down.
Hanging out with friends, because you can.
Dreaming about the cooler months to come and scarves.

Veronica A.


Away at Camp...


      Thank you for visiting, I'm currently away at the Csehy Summer School of Music being very musical. I will return with something of interest next week. Please check back then.

Thank you!

Veronica A.