There is a strange part of my lifestyle that many opera singers do not talk about. It is the mysterious, daunting, and sometimes maddening....DOWN time! I've been truly blessed with the work I've had over the years. My calendar is often full and I thrive off of challenges and busy schedules. I love working hard and when I am in the midst I am at my most happy. When I am not working, I'm often learning music, doing laundry and trying to find the social life I once had. Now, is such a time. Oh, I have projects I can work on. I have many recitals this season and am learning new music for all of them... excellent. But can one really translate and sing Brahms for 10 hours a day? Maybe a better woman than I.
I've had the amazing opportunity to actually TAKE a vacation this August. I visited friends in New Orleans and had such a fine time. I spent hours by the pool, drinking fruity drinks, laughing and basking in the south that i so adore. Honestly, why don't I live in the South? It's where I feel most comfortable and at ease. I've been on this side of the country for 20 years. I can hardly read the words and believe them. Honestly, I'm such a restless soul that anywhere I put down roots my itchy feet demand that I explore and travel this big blue marble.
One thing that I have noticed since my life has evolved is that I am an isolator and a bit of a loner. I LOVE people. I love my friends and family but there always seems a point when I need to be alone. I'm like Mom in that respect. She loved her circle but sometimes was most at home in her garden or on the back porch watching her beloved birds. She was so lucky to have found my Father early in her life and he understood this facet of her. Sadly, I don't have that luxury. When I'm alone, I'm alone and there are times where I wonder where the vivacious and social animal of my past went? Am I becoming agoraphobic? Am I simply a homebody who can spend hours reading, singing and clearing out the closet that seems to expand with each passing day. I realized that I know thousands of people but am close to few. My schedule is often so hectic that I've missed countless drink invites, dinner requests and parties over the years. For this I feel horrible. And so dear friends I'm offering a hearty apology. I want to be present in my life. I'm really working on this. It's easy for me to become so involved in a project that I shutter the doors and only emerge, suitcase in hand, jetting off to a new adventure and new friends.
Well, I'm making a pledge to plug back in and enjoy my life.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Friday, June 15, 2012
A pain that I am used to
Hello from Tulsa Blogosphere!!! I'm writing you on the very eve of my opening of Gypsy. It has been a rollicking and active last few months and I apologize for letting my blog lapse. The title of this blog entry refers to a song from one of my favorite bands of all times. Honestly I could start a new blog based entirely on my teenage like frenzy I have for them. Those that know me well know this band is the magnificent Depeche Mode. Yes, I know, still.....I hear some groans from old classmates, but yes, they are my favorite and I'm stand behind every synthesized pop, squeak and wail they grace me with.
I'm here in Tulsa to sing Momma Rose for the first, and hopefully not last time. It has been a journey filled with angsty late night chats, sweaty rehearsals, sore feet and vocal gymnastics of the baritone variety. Who did he write this for anyway? Sherrril Milnes???? But I digress, this process has helped me on my grief journey is a really unexpected way. Let me tell you folks, being called "Momma" five thousand times a day kind of takes the sting out of cringing every time the word is spoken. It's like sensory overload. Momma this Momma that....it is endless. Even I call myself Momma about ten thousand times during the show. So I'm hear to tell ya, if you ever need to get over something just do it a million times and the pain will fade away.
I've spoken before about wanting to talk to Mom, wanting to dream about her and even see her again. There have been points in this process that I've picked up the phone to call her. I do that on just about every show. There is always that precarious day when I know that I can't do this. That I'm not getting it. That I'm simply not the right person for the job. Mom and Dad both have listened to me rant and rave about these little doubts my entire life. They both always listen and let me talk my way back to knowing that I can do anything I set my mind too. I've started talking to Mom more. I know she is listening. There was a wonderful movie with Robin Williams called What Dreams May Come. It dealt with the issue of loss in a unique and beautiful way. In one scene Williams, who had passed away, comes back to find his widow despondent. Every time he tried to be near her or talk to her the pain of his presence was so great she would crumble. The pain was too fresh and present. I think about this often as I can now talk about Mom without always tearing up, I can smell her perfume and think of the happy times and I can now openly and proudly speak to her about my joys and sorrows. The pain of losing her is still with me but I'm growing used to it. Time has allowed me to feel her near me again. That is a wonderful gift that I am so grateful for.
Well, on to trod the boards in Tulsa. I've heard every thing's coming up roses.....we shall just have to wait and see.
xo
~Mel
I'm here in Tulsa to sing Momma Rose for the first, and hopefully not last time. It has been a journey filled with angsty late night chats, sweaty rehearsals, sore feet and vocal gymnastics of the baritone variety. Who did he write this for anyway? Sherrril Milnes???? But I digress, this process has helped me on my grief journey is a really unexpected way. Let me tell you folks, being called "Momma" five thousand times a day kind of takes the sting out of cringing every time the word is spoken. It's like sensory overload. Momma this Momma that....it is endless. Even I call myself Momma about ten thousand times during the show. So I'm hear to tell ya, if you ever need to get over something just do it a million times and the pain will fade away.
I've spoken before about wanting to talk to Mom, wanting to dream about her and even see her again. There have been points in this process that I've picked up the phone to call her. I do that on just about every show. There is always that precarious day when I know that I can't do this. That I'm not getting it. That I'm simply not the right person for the job. Mom and Dad both have listened to me rant and rave about these little doubts my entire life. They both always listen and let me talk my way back to knowing that I can do anything I set my mind too. I've started talking to Mom more. I know she is listening. There was a wonderful movie with Robin Williams called What Dreams May Come. It dealt with the issue of loss in a unique and beautiful way. In one scene Williams, who had passed away, comes back to find his widow despondent. Every time he tried to be near her or talk to her the pain of his presence was so great she would crumble. The pain was too fresh and present. I think about this often as I can now talk about Mom without always tearing up, I can smell her perfume and think of the happy times and I can now openly and proudly speak to her about my joys and sorrows. The pain of losing her is still with me but I'm growing used to it. Time has allowed me to feel her near me again. That is a wonderful gift that I am so grateful for.
Well, on to trod the boards in Tulsa. I've heard every thing's coming up roses.....we shall just have to wait and see.
xo
~Mel
Friday, January 27, 2012
The magic of rainbows
Hello dear readers,
I know it's been quite a while since I have put finger to keypad but life rollicks along at an unrelenting pace at times. The pace has been a good one. Lots of work and family time have filled my coffers and I am so grateful for the opportunities afforded me. Honestly, I purposely stayed away from the blog at the holidays because I just couldn't handle writing about the first Thanksgiving...the first Christmas....first this first that...since my Mom left our world. It seemed morbid and quite frankly I wasn't strong enough to share my feelings and experiences.
Now it comes down to the biggest "first of all". A Herculean hurtle of a day that has me at one moment staring off into the distance and at another frantically tackling a long laundry list of to do's. It has been raining for two days here in New York. Persistent gentle rain accompanied by fog and an opaque gray sky. I awoke this morning to a gentle breeze and a dense haze rising off of the Hudson River. It is almost 60 degrees here and the warm rain hitting the icy waters has created a giant halloween cauldron out of the river. It was quite the site. I watched with disbelief as wave upon wave of fog rose and billowed away. It felt as if the fog would never lift and the clouds were a permanent fixture in my little upstate manhattan world. Grey feeling joined Mother nature and I retreated to my bed where I have been nursing an out back for the last few days. I had planned a long day of activites for myself. Manicure/ Pedicure, movie and shopping, a museum stop and a trip to the Chelsea flower market all to celebrate my Mother's love of beautiful things. And yet, I sit here rooted to my leather club chair, sporting my uniform of yoga pants and tank top, scouring the on demand channels for distraction. My energy level is beyond low and although I've had coffee and sustenance I am lethargic and wanting. Then the tiniest little spring breeze broke through my apartment. Yes, i said spring. The low lying cement clouds seemed to shuffle off and a little peak of blue sky shone through the mire. I glanced up to see the small forming of a rainbow on the horizon.
Such is life I suppose. At times so fogged in that even the possibility of a glimmer is beyond comprehension. But the light always breaks through and signs are sent from Heaven to help us continue on and even relish and enjoy every moment of this precious life. My Mother was such a light and she graced me today with a sign I will carry in my heart for the rest of my days.
I love you precious Momma. I miss you every day but know that I carry you in the rainbow that is my life.
I know it's been quite a while since I have put finger to keypad but life rollicks along at an unrelenting pace at times. The pace has been a good one. Lots of work and family time have filled my coffers and I am so grateful for the opportunities afforded me. Honestly, I purposely stayed away from the blog at the holidays because I just couldn't handle writing about the first Thanksgiving...the first Christmas....first this first that...since my Mom left our world. It seemed morbid and quite frankly I wasn't strong enough to share my feelings and experiences.
Now it comes down to the biggest "first of all". A Herculean hurtle of a day that has me at one moment staring off into the distance and at another frantically tackling a long laundry list of to do's. It has been raining for two days here in New York. Persistent gentle rain accompanied by fog and an opaque gray sky. I awoke this morning to a gentle breeze and a dense haze rising off of the Hudson River. It is almost 60 degrees here and the warm rain hitting the icy waters has created a giant halloween cauldron out of the river. It was quite the site. I watched with disbelief as wave upon wave of fog rose and billowed away. It felt as if the fog would never lift and the clouds were a permanent fixture in my little upstate manhattan world. Grey feeling joined Mother nature and I retreated to my bed where I have been nursing an out back for the last few days. I had planned a long day of activites for myself. Manicure/ Pedicure, movie and shopping, a museum stop and a trip to the Chelsea flower market all to celebrate my Mother's love of beautiful things. And yet, I sit here rooted to my leather club chair, sporting my uniform of yoga pants and tank top, scouring the on demand channels for distraction. My energy level is beyond low and although I've had coffee and sustenance I am lethargic and wanting. Then the tiniest little spring breeze broke through my apartment. Yes, i said spring. The low lying cement clouds seemed to shuffle off and a little peak of blue sky shone through the mire. I glanced up to see the small forming of a rainbow on the horizon.
Such is life I suppose. At times so fogged in that even the possibility of a glimmer is beyond comprehension. But the light always breaks through and signs are sent from Heaven to help us continue on and even relish and enjoy every moment of this precious life. My Mother was such a light and she graced me today with a sign I will carry in my heart for the rest of my days.
I love you precious Momma. I miss you every day but know that I carry you in the rainbow that is my life.
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