Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Bliss/My Troll's Hair


Rabbit, rabbit. I've said this before, right? It's an old British tradition to say this to everyone you see on the first day of every new month - brings luck for you both. And if I say, "Rabbit, rabbit" to you, the polite thing is to say it back. Comes from the same superstition as lucky rabbit's feet. Two things I miss from my childhood - stroking a rabbit's foot (guess kids these days would think it gory and disgusting) and combing my troll's hair.

Last night, A Little Night Music up at the Writer's Theater in Glencoe. Amazing, amazing, amazing. Catherine, Christ and I were transported and kind of speechless. I think we wanted to say something profound, something pithy that would evoke a "so true" when the play concluded, but all we could say was "amazing." Carol was there, seeing it for the second time and unlike us, she had SO much to say about it: the actors, director, music, reviews. We listened to her wax poetic about the play and nodded our heads and said, "Amazing." Today I'm thinking I can do better. Knew nothing about this play except that famous song, Send In The Clowns", so I was a blank slate with no expectations. The plot, silly and endearing with moments of deep wisdom and magic (the child asking the grandmother if the moon will smile, the old barrister married to an eighteen year old who says "to flirt with rescue when one has no intention of being saved", Petra the maid saying "a person should celebrate everything passing by). It very much had the feel of Shakespeare's, A Midsummer Night's Dream - love and lust in air, hope and wistfulness, men and women struggling to find their puzzle pieces and matter to someone - a search for meaning and contentment. And the music - that was the real treat. Hard to describe Sondheim and I get it why many people find the music inaccessible. Much of it is unsingable except by trained singers - atonal, unexpected, defies traditional form and, as such, it can jar the ear. But that's also its strength. It keeps you on the edge of your seat because you are never for one moment lulled into knowing and anticipating what's coming next - Sondheim doesn't let you relax - you're required to be an active listener. Reminds me very much of Wagner who, at his best, creates dreamscapes from notes, music that shimmers and lingers and that's best listened to in semi consciousness.

Today another wonderfully frenetic day - you should see Sarah's list today!!! I am a contestant with myself, upping the ante every day in an effort to catch up with all the stuff I've let languish in the past year. In a few minutes I head out to physical therapy for the tricky knee which of course, feels great now that I'm having my first appointment. When they see I am essentially trouble free, they will think me a hypochondriac!!  "But really, you should have seen me limping two weeks ago!" I will say.

Today my mind is full of the play. It was among other thing, creaturely and sensual - made me wistful for a relationship - there was lots of kissing - gotta love kissing! I'm jumping back into dating, meeting people on line which is often frustrating and dicey and much of the time disappointing, but it's a way to prequalify guys and find the single ones. Needle in the haystack though. I've got active correspondence with about six men and it's getting confusing to keep them straight. Going to make some index cards to refer to quickly when one calls. This Friday, a fellow coming to Schaller's to hear me sing. Sunday another meeting me at 12 West Elm - we both sing. Then there are four that I'm just getting to know via phone and e-mail. It's a major undertaking - the dating thing!

Got a text from Lucas - the surgery went well it seems. Amazing that one day they're drilling into the little guy's head and two days later he'll be in the car en route back to Evanston. Once the surgery heals, they'll activate the implants and that is when he will begin to hear. Exciting and scary.

Challenge today is being envious of me that I got to see such an amazing play with friends and family - I was stunned and delighted. And a question for you - when was the last time you went to something that just blew you away with wonderfulness?  I remember Catherine and I seeing the great jazz vocalist, Ann Hampton Callaway (you know her - she wrote and performed the theme song to The Nanny). We left that performance mute - couldn't find any words, didn't want to hear our own voices - just needed to sit quietly and digest and find our land legs because we had been transported elsewhere. I'm also remembering a meal at the now closed restaurant, Trio - each bite of something new and unexpected caused our eyes to widen with amazement - food as a whole body experience. When the meal was done, there was almost a tear, a sadness to think that magic had come and gone, never to be repeated. We could go back, but the novelty and innocence were a one time thing. So, either you know what I'm talking about or you think I'm a nut. If you haven't been transcended lately, what can you do about that? If you're my friend Eric, it's hearing amazing rock 'n roll performances that take him to that bliss place. If you're James, it's reading a book that, when done, makes him want to sit in reverie and just think about it. If you're Carol, it's everything - meeting new people, making new connections, reading poetry that cuts to her core, plays that transport - thinking she rarely has her feet fully on the ground with all the cool stuff she does. If you're my tenant Mark, it's the precision and thrill of the salsa and the pleasure of the cold beer that washes it down. Mmmmmm....bliss - we all need it. It's the lubricant of life!

Peace,
Sarah

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