Hello blogoshere!
Sorry it has been a while since my last missive. I've been one busy camper these past few weeks. I had a wonderful time performing with the New York Philharmonic a few weeks ago. The best part was that my Father got to hear me sing at Lincoln Center. And not just sing...DANCE. Yes, I made my NY dance debut. It was a tricky little concoction I like to call simply: The Owl Dance. Yes, it was magical and the Bolshoi has been trying to contract me for a few weeks now. I told them they needed to sweeten the deal with money and borscht endorsement deals so we'll see how that works out. I don't dance for just anyone.
The piece I performed was A Cunning Little Vixen. A magical fairy tale of a story that features the Phil in such a special and awe inspiring way. I found myself teary eyed as I watched Alan Gilbert conduct them to perfection right before my first entrance. Moments like these are so few and far between and when the genuine joy of music invades the air miracles can happen. It sounds like an overstatement but every musical turn served as a little salve to my tied up heart. I really enjoyed this gig. I was allowed to be funny and interact with my fellow characters in a fun and frivolous way. Unlike last year where I prayed at every entrance, died twice and beat up my husband with a hot poker. Not to say I didn't enjoy every minute of that but it was just a different vibe. A much needed change of pace.
I'm off now for a couple of months. My next big project is The Medium with Michigan Opera Theatre. I love that company and know it will be a safe haven to recreate a role I performed when I was much younger. I look forward to having the vocal acumen to give the piece it's due course. I have colors and capacity now that I didn't have at 23. It will be a treat to work on it. I start work, in earnest, on it next week. This week has been for R and R and reconnection.
I do find myself feeling Mom around me at this time. I'm lonely for her and am dumfounded that it has been only 5 months since her passing. It actually hurts worse now for some reason. Fresh wounds have an urgency to them stays on the surface while deep hurt pulsates with a nagging consistency. It's all part of the journey I suppose. I'm so tired of this trip I need a vacation from it. My musical forays serve as a kind respite but I carry with me the scars of the past year. They have informed my artistic choices though and the results are a grounded artistry that I have strived for. I'm not quite there yet but I know more about myself now than I ever did. I find my energy level for non essential activities is waning this week. I have friends to see, dates to go on and laughter to seek and yet all I want is to be with my Mom. And for now that means sitting quietly and recalling every little detail of her. It seems I have her arms. Hers were much more toned but the shape is the same. Why didn't I notice this years ago? Someone once told me that one day she put her hand through the sleeve of her shirt and her Mother's hand came out of the cuff. It seemed to happen over night. I am my Mother's daughter and am dealing with this loss with the skills she gave to me.
Operation Flashy Jacket is still on but at a bit of a standstill. I've been dieting for 5 thousand years and I am tired of it. I'm tired of being made to feel the villain. The O word is pervasive and it is used to shame and belittle people of size into buying products to keep them on the roller coaster. I cannot watch or support one more extreme loser makeover swan TLC half hour cry fest. So, I've made the decision to stop. I'm not going to buy diet food or watch any such program. I won't be buying motivational DVD's that tell me that I'm unhappy and the only way I will ever be happy is to listen to their rational. I'm not going participate in the hate mongering that is the diet industry. Let me tell you what I AM going to do. I'm gong to eat healthfully and joyfully. I'm going to move and groove to my own rhythm. I'm going to stretch and smile and laugh and sweat. I'm going to get off this crazy capitalistic treadmill. I'm not going to buy into the fashion industry that tells me what I can and cannot wear. I'm going sleeveless and short skirted. Finally, I'm just going to stop. Stop hating my body. Stop equating my success in this society with number on a scale or a dress tag.
Strange...I feel lighter already. Nothing like losing three thousand pounds of self hatred in one fell swoop.
~Mel
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