"Hope" is the thing with feathers—
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all—
And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—
And sore must be the storm—
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm—
I've heard it in the chillest land—
And on the strangest Sea—
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb—of Me.
Emily Dickinson
This week has flown by, as things start to heat up at work, and life is altogether busier. I have been very fortunate to be getting some auditions, and so the scheduling is becoming a little wild...New York to Philadelphia, back again...but I am so excited. It makes me feel very singerish, and as if I am part of the big gigantic rat race nightmare bloodletting that we call audition season. Now that I have two perfect audition dresses and hot shoes, I am ready to take on the world. My really nice husband has taken the time to work through an aria or two with me most nights, and that is helping so much to keep things in shape.
For some reason, Rusalka's aria is absolutely impossible for me to memorize. Okay, well, I can get all the words right if I am completely focusing on remembering all the words, but we know that this is not exactly the way it is supposed to go in auditions. I need it to BE THERE. Usually memorization is never a problem for me, and it is one of the things I rarely (knock on wood) have trouble with in performances and audition, so I'm getting a little frustrated with this aria. I was just remembering that in grad school I used to learn my rhythms and texts while on the treadmill, and somehow it really helped me to cement it in my brain...in order to take my mind off the pain of running, I suppose I probably was able to focus unusually well on the rhythms and texts. I think I should try that again.
I haven't been out to eat in a while, and I am excited to join Ms. M for dinner tomorrow night in the faraway lands of western Maryland. Although, I am starting to believe that lots of restaurants would have a hard time living up to a couple of the recipes I've tried lately-- a broccoli soup to die for and a very simple preparation of ravioli with spinach and bacon that was another one of those "last meal" kind of moments. I take none of the credit...it can't have anything to do with my cooking abilities... these recipes are the easiest of the easy. The creativity and skill involved in coming up with a good recipe is a pretty amazing talent.
Speaking of food, Thanksgiving is almost here...and I am going to my grandmother's. Just another reason to work out like it's my job.
1 comment:
I LOVE the poem, Jess. Have fun in the boonies tonight--I'll probably be driving past you! :)
Love,
Bo
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