Spring has danced in to my life…not on little dainty pink ballerina flowered feet, but a thundering righteous horde of roustabout roses, whooping wisteria, screaming star jasmine, irate iris, oozing orange blossoms…the fragrance fills the night so full that my back patio resembles a very expensive olfactory house of ill repute.
I have been longing for this month for five years…five long, dry years of drought and discouragement. I find it now, aside from being such a glorious display (which re-enforces my belief that God is secretly a gay interior decorator from Las Vegas…oh, yes…purple goes so well with yellow…and hello, fuschia!) overwhelming…exhausting with wonderment. I know the gold and brown of summer is just around the corner, but for now I bury my head in the green, green grass on the hillside.
I suppose that is my current attitude about life in general these days… taking comfort in the small miracles of the moment as the larger events of the world roar over my head.
I should, I SHALL take bigger steps with open eyes and DO USEFUL THINGS as soon as the roses stop dancing on my doorstep. Oh, the procrastination of Spring!
(I recently heard on NPR…my source for TRUTH…that in certain Asian countries, there is no concept of SHOULD or COULD. Isn’t THAT a boggler? To live only in the world of IS and WAS…I wonder if that is a good or bad thing? )
The days since January have tumbled past in such a hurry! The annual trip to beautiful, tranquil New Zealand,
so recently brought into the maelstrom of the rest of the world by the horrendous bombing in Christchurch…the elegant way their Prime Minister, Ms. Jacinda, has handled the mayhem…
…the great joy of singing with my astounding musical pals Ann Hampton Callaway and Michele Brourman in Palm Springs, Virginia, and Pittsburgh…
…and the thrill, after twenty years of threatening to do so, of creating a concert with my brilliant composer/songwriter pal, John Bucchino. My musical plate has been so full!
And what does the summer hold?
…A trip to London, my favorite city, with Michele B, to sing once more…a revival of my one-woman musical, LADY MACBETH SINGS THE BLUES as a concert at my beloved Rubicon theater in June…who knows what else the Universe is waving at me?
I find myself looking at events these days with a hint of “if this is the last time, make it good!” I suppose that is an attitude I should take with every moment, and not just because I am soon reaching three score and twelve (how did THAT happen?????)
I was seriously debating whether or not to have my face chopped and channeled as a birthday gift. (Yes, vanity sits on my right shoulder, cowardice on my left, at all times.) Then I saw a wonderful article about Glenda Jackson, who is playing King Lear at the age of 82. The photo of her was glorious…a road map of her entire life in all its fury and adventure. (Amazing how much she looks like Sir Ian McKellan!) And I thought, why in the world do I want to erase the history that lives on my face…the map of me? So I retreated from that concept and am searching for what will replace that desire…an electric bike?…another CD?…worthy causes to donate time and money to? Yep…I think that’s the ticket.
And for those of you who might wonder what have I been watching, listening to, reading?
MOVIES: “THE RIDER”! An absolutely beautiful, deeply touching small film that you SHOULD NOT MISS!!!
And “HOW TO TALK TO GIRLS AT PARTIES” Truly one of the most wonderful and strange films ever!
(Of course GAME OF THRONES! I watch with dread at every thrust and parry!)
BOOK: “NEVERWHERE” by the wondrous Neil Gaiman. Oh, that man’s language!
MUSIC: The Fabulous Barb Jungr with John McDaniel, re-thinking the music of STING. Wow!
And in keeping with my rant about age a paragraph or six ago, here’s a poem and my wishes for you a lovely summer!
SHOUTS THE SIGN
ABOVE THE DOOR
OF THE SHINY NEW
ITS SMOKED GLASS AND STEEL
IN THE SUNLIGHT
DEAR GOD, I THINK!
NO THANK YOU!
WHOSE IDEA WAS THAT?
WHAT SPECIAL RING OF HELL
WOULD THAT ENCOMPASS?
FOREVER ON THE CUSP
OF HERPES AND MASCARA
CROTCH STRANGLING JEANS
FOOT BINDING HEELS
REVEALING PNEUMATIC CUPS
BRIMMING WITH PLIANT FLESH
FOR THE PRURIENT ENTERTAINMENT
OF CURIOUS PASSERS BY
NOT ON YOUR LIFE!
AND… SMUG WITH AGE…
OFF I STROLL
IN MY SENSIBLE SHOES