floating

It's an odd thing, this 'limbo' existence. Of all my imaginings about Lucia, reality-based and otherwise, I never really thought about the during part. The being-in-the-middle.

These days "off" are so surreal.... life continues to go on around me. A tragic death has occurred at St. Stephen, a family I know well. Obama and oil spills and immigration and gay marriage is being discussed - there are places in the world that do not care about Lucia di Lammermoor.

I know and understand all this, but in spite of my efforts to feel normal for two days straight, I walk around like a zombie, numb.

Doing some cooking today, as therapy. Emails still float around, unanswered. There are hints of changes in the air, but nothing is certain. It's looking like a very different audition season for me - in a good way. But again, no certainty to be found, anywhere - except in a recipe.

releases

Yoga led to a good cry. It's amazing how often that happens.

One can only withstand so much 'noise'.

Off to see a Will Farrell movie..... many of you who know me well will recognize this as a sign of desperate times.....

the inevitable first reviews

I'd say, in the end, all we can do is our best. While I'm onstage, it's like being a computer that only I understand, with all programs running at once. There are some glitches, and one can only control so much.

I gave with truth and commitment, and so far no critic has stated otherwise. Not everyone will love me. Though I am getting tired of the buildup - the "let's see what this local unknown can do" kind of pressure. To paraphrase Legally Blonde: what are they expecting - three tits?

http://www.mercurynews.com/california/ci_15711837

http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2010/08/08/DDUP1ER020.DTL

Opening Night

I can only repeat this prayer:

Be open to every moment, accept it as it is.

Remember my back.

Remember my breathing.

Let this person be truly alive, truly real.

Just stay on that small and electric pitch - the oboe, letting her spirit bubble forth from it.

I am not responsible for the whole world, just myself.

Thank God.

Life is good.

Amen.

a prayer

Tonight is our final dress, a Preview with an audience for the first time.

My post-yoga prayer finds me at the Oakville Monastery, probably a version I've created in my head based on the real thing. It's green, quiet, the vineyards sway in the breeze.

Be open to every moment, accept it as it is. Remember my back. Remember my breathing. Let this person be truly alive, truly real. Just stay on that small and electric pitch, letting her spirit bubble forth from it. I am not responsible for the whole world, just myself. Thank God. Life is good. Amen.

a blissful schizophrenia

An acting teacher talked about the Artist's relationship to The Watcher.

The Watcher is that part of us that critiques us from without, the one who makes us self-conscious, the one who says "don't" and "be careful".

The Watcher can be helpful in some cases, deathly in others.

I find myself living as The Watcher these days, while the Artist just takes over and does her thing when it's time to do so - and surprises The Watcher with her audacity, her strength, her ability to stay focused, her enjoyment. It's a strange out-of-body existence.

Articles keep popping up over the internet about the Artist, and she is due to call a public radio station for a live interview tonight. Then it's a piano tech, immersing herself in Lucia once again - chipping away at walls, enjoying those that have already fallen down.

The Watcher tries to calm the hysteria by convincing herself that no one outside of the Bay Area cares about this - but the Artist seems to know better.

a constant state of "up"

Nothing new to report.... I am still on the tightrope, still not sleeping (lest a brilliant new thought comes to me and I miss it!!!!), still not tasting food, still not sure what to do with myself when I am not singing Lucia.

More than ever, I am desperately needing to connect with colleagues - if only not to feel so alone. There are glimmers of such promise.... I hope for more to come as tech week "magic" begins to develop.

I already begin to think of the Mean Reds that will befall me when this is all over. But that's not now.

Sitzprobe tonight - C. had to remind me that this is when the fun begins. I hope he's right.