Make your own season brochure....

If you go to www.parterre.com, you can make your own "mad lib opera brochure" by filling in the blanks and submitting your responses. Here is what I came up with:

The 1944 season for Scranton Grand Opera promises an eclectic mix of Voluptuous and Dynamic works, as well as a gala Palpitations featuring the Intelligent personality Carol Channing as special bidet.

The thoughtful classic, Hindemith`s "La agilita di Poughkeepsie" boasts a new production directed by Britney Spears, with costumes by L. Ron Hubbard. This flatulent staging updates the action to turnpike in the early part of the 666th century. Soprano Leonie Rysanek stars as Lashawndra, a virginal bird bath who for most of the opera is disguised as a mysterious moped. Leonie Rysanek is perhaps best known from Wife Swap where she sang the lilting melody Sexy Back.

The neglected masterpiece "Der kaputschlechtbumsen" will be revived for only 57 performances. You probably already know the famous "viper Chorus" which was used on the soundtrack of the Academy Award winning film Bring it On. Due to the length of this work, all performances will begin at dawn.

Finally, the company will present the Lagos premiere of the opera "The Life and Times of Bob Barker" in a co-production with Opera Oregon-Pacific Sacramento (oops) and Opera Sous-Sol. The libretto is by Jeb Bush, based on the play Equus, and the music is adapted from the works of Schonberg by maestro Pierre Boulez. Exciting newcomer Deborah Winger makes her operatic debut as the flaccid heroine, and the men in her life are portrayed by Rush Limbaugh, Jon Stewart and Lassie.

Generous support for Scranton Grand Opera`s excrement was provided by the Delta Burke Foundation and the National Endowment for the dildo.

....

Blessed is he
who comes in spite of the Lord
Blessed is he who is not
ashamed.

Blessed is the exile
standing steadfast with himself,
who curses and casts scorn --
who will not compromise.
Who will not yield.

Blessed is his anger.

Proverbs

(1)

Between the lines is a narrow space with openings.
Between the spaces are narrow lines which are openings.
Between the words there are spaces that are not openings but are between openings which lead to opening.
Between the letters are spaces which must end because we choose to do that.
Between the heart and the head there is space.
Between two hearts there is space and opening.
Between space and opening there is the heart.
Between the heart and opening there is space which is not empty.

(2)

Not empty is not full.
Not full is empty and also not empty
Empty can be quite full
which can also be empty.

(3)

Also can, also ran.
Also could, also would.
Also much also soon
also muddling, also moon.

Jealous Mistresses

A few months ago I went to the gracious apartment of a writer who agreed to talk to me about "the craft". I knew this was a dangerous proposition, because I have never considered myself to be a "writer". I know that to name yourself invites all sorts of problems... I am no fool.


We sat there and nibbled on biscuits from a silver salver. We drank sherry and listened to Schubert - it was hard not to feel at peace. And then we started to talk about anxiety. Not that I was surprised. I have come to discover that a confluence of sensory distractions is a sign of hidden, gnawing fear -- happy is the person who
revels in debauchery just because they feel like it.

He (the writer) asked me about my "writing process".
I told him I just wrote.
He asked me what inspired me.
I told him I was inspired by most everything. Or nothing. Depending on the case.
He asked me how I just "did it".
I told him that I already had an artistic outlet that caused me endless amounts of
anxiety. Writing was just something I did.

At one point, it was the same with singing -- it was just something I did.
Then I started to learn about "how to sing" and the whole process became much more difficult and far less satisfying.

When I asked him what I could do to "improve" my writing, my writer friend told me that I should just go to a writing group and share my work with others. I felt an immediate twinge of angst. I thought to myself "oh shit... now I am going to have to try to understand what I do".

I prefer to live in ignorance and to embrace all the words that come out of me. There is a lot of chaff among the wheat to be sure...I can live with that.

But I cannot bear to try and understand. I vow to hold on to one thing in life that "just happens".