Flawed Wall Art

I like the fact that in ancient Chinese art the great painters always included a deliberate flaw in their work: human creation is never perfect.
~ Unknown

A flawed painting my dining room certainly is. In case you have not noticed yet, I love art in all its forms and the decoration of one’s home is definitely an art form. So I was thrilled when my landlady came over one day a few weeks ago and said she wanted to freshen up the walls in the dining room and living room with a new coat of paint. I enthusiastically offered my talents and hands in helping. This would be especially needed in the dining room where almost all four walls were plastered with hideous granny-floral wallpaper. This (we both agreed) would need to be stripped and the walls washed before painting began. I should have stripped it that night or the next day.

After a long day at work, I was greeted at the door by my housemates with the words: “Don’t be too upset.” The dining room was white ~ with patches of blue floral wallpaper bleeding through here and there. It was with great effort that I opened my eyes again and shut my mouth.

That was a few weeks ago and last night my housemate Mary and I talked about colour and flow and the weekend. Instead of going somewhere fun or relaxing, Mary and I are staying home this weekend and painting the dining room. If we are really ambitious we might even get to the living room, but it is the dining room that is in dire need of some serious paint TLC!

So today I visited Lowe’s on my lunch break and came away with a bag full of paint chips and pamphlets and a few plants for the garden. Mary and I had decided on a shade of cranberry. But after sleeping on it (in my cranberry painted boudoir) I was not as keen on painting the dining room the same colour. I am not afraid of colour, especially dark colours. I love them. But I want to do something different with this new canvas.

Hopefully, we can look at the paint chips tonight, choose a colour (or two) and then I will buy the paint tomorrow and we’ll be good to go.

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

Unleashing the Tempest

All I try to do is write music that feels meaningful to me,
that has commitment and passion behind it.
~ Bruce Springsteen

After this weekend, I’m either committed or I need to be committed. My friend Dotto is directing a production of The Tempest and needed a score written. A score consisting of an overture (naturally) and a few song and dance numbers in the styles of 1) Caribbean steel drums, 2) Hip-hop, 3) gospel and 4) melancholic ballad. I have only written melancholic ballads (aka funeral dirges as my mother calls them). I have never written 1), 2) or 3). For that matter, I have not written an overture, nor a full score for a play. So what do I do? I say yes of course! I think my Muse fainted.

This took place on Friday. Over an excellent grilled salmon, accompanied by grilled sweet potatoes and succulent green peppers, fresh mushrooms simmered in garlic butter and red-wine and a couple of Coronas, Dotto, Sullivan and I discussed ideas, script, feel and courage. And aptitude. I brought up those last two. It is the blessing/curse of the melancholic to be able to see the big picture and every little detail that can bring that big picture crashing to the ground. I think of everything that could go wrong.

As we enjoyed grilled pound cake with bananas and rum-kissed real whipped cream in the candlelit backyard, both Sullivan and Dotto (also both melancholics) endeavored to ease my fears. However, they were not completely put at ease until Saturday, when I talked to Ann S. at the wedding reception of our mutual friends and fellow Christendom grads, Kristy and Jeff E.

Ann also composes ~ a fact I forgot until I sat down to bring her up to speed on my current doings. Then I grabbed her by the shoulder and turned to Sullivan (who also knew the happy couple) and said – “Oh wow! That’s right ~ she composes ~ we must talk to her!” This we did. And now there are three composers. I hope this does not mean the same thing as three cooks in the kitchen.

However, in this case, I do not think there is any danger of that. The three of us bring different talents and it is not as scary to share the burden of a whole score with at least 5 major song and dance numbers with two other artists.

Fears and insecurities aside, Sunday afternoon (with absolutely glorious weather!) I sat down at the piano (which needs yet another tuning! Argh!!!) and after just brushing the keys with my fingertips for a couple of bars, came up with a partial tune for the overture/Ariel’s Song. My Muse must have recovered from her earlier shock. But this is only the beginning. We shall see whether the tune stands up to replay and other ears and whether the (royal) We will be able to withstand the pressure of her perfectionist self and looming deadlines.

To be continued….

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

The First Meeting

The greatest part of a writer's time is spent in reading,
in order to write, a man will turn over half a library to make one book.
~ Samuel Johnson

The inaugural meeting of the American Inklings was a blast last night. There was perhaps a little more gab and less creative criticism than I would have liked. My dears, for me to read you my poems and for you to say “Well done! I love it!” is not to love me nor my work. So Sullivan (aka King Alfred) and I decided that we need to have a little more structure if the vision we have for the group is to become reality.

In order to get some true critiques going, we thought that for our next meeting, we would make it a rule that each member should pick something that they do not like about someone’s work. This forces the listener to listen closely to the words, meter, rhyme and flow of the work being discussed. So the first part of the meeting will be devoted to original works and their critique.

For the second half we decided that we would do a reading of a published writer. As all those present were fans of Shakespeare, Hamlet was unanimously chosen for our next meeting.

The second and fourth Wednesdays turned out to be in conflict with another meeting that most of our members and I myself attend. So the next meeting will not be until June 7 and from there on we will meet every first and third Wednesday. 7 o’clock seems to work well for everyone. The only other change we will make it the physical place we meet. There are a few who would need to be near a metro stop and most are closer to D.C. and Arlington then they are to Reston. So Sullivan and I will be prowling the pubs searching for a suitable place for the A. Inklings to gather.

Hope you can join us in June!

Oremus pro invicem,
~ Mikaela

Of Steak and Friendship

You're to come away at once, out of danger. I've got a motor-car and a basket of strawberries and a bottle of Chateau Peyraguey which isn't a wine you've ever tasted, so don't pretend. It's heaven with strawberries.
~ Evelyn Waugh, Brideshead Revisited

Now that I have posted that quote (ahh the memories of my junior year of college that it evokes!), it strikes me as being wonderfully suited to the text of an invitation for an impromptu summer soiree. I will have to start planning one right away! But that is for another post on another evening….

Last Wednesday, I had a few friends help me move a couch I had just purchased (a beautiful piece to help formalize my living room) and I thanked them by grilling some beautiful sirloin steaks and frying up some potatoes with rosemary and mushrooms in a red wine sauce.

I had planned on feeding them, but the date and the menu were impromptu. And I must say, that a thrown together, intimate supper with friends is so satisfying to the soul. Anyone who knows me has become familiar with the large, fun and at times boisterous parties (ranging from 40 attendees to over 100) that I have thrown or enjoy attending.

But I am a melancholic-phlegmatic introvert. “Small is beautiful.” Really. Can you truly enter into the mystery that is your friend if there are 39 to 99 other people needing to be attended to, fed or any of the other services a hostess renders?

No. The mystery and sacredness of friendship demand a respectful quiet. Time to listen, to contemplate the countenance of one’s friend and to enter into the expression they are sharing with you in that moment. To be heard is to be known and respected. And to be known and respected is to be loved.

How wonderful to be able to pick up the phone and say, I have steaks and the grill is fired up. Come on over and set a spell. And let us enter into the mystery of each other. For by doing so, we become better men and women.

Thank you for sharing a little of your mystery with me, my friends. I treasure you.

Oremus pro invicem,
~ Mikaela

American Inklings

Even in literature and art, no man who bothers about originality will ever be original: whereas if you simply try to tell the truth (without caring twopence how often it has been told before) you will, nine times out of ten, become original without ever having noticed it.

~ C.S. Lewis

For all those in the D.C./Northern Virginia area:

Announcing the first meeting of the American Inklings

When: Wednesday, May 10, 7:00pm
and every 1st and 3rd Wednesday

Where: Cosi's, in the Reston Town Center
11909 Democracy Drive, Reston, VA

The original "Inklings" were a group of mostly university colleagues who got together to discuss literature and poetry--either things they'd read or things they'd written. Theirs were the first ears to hear original drafts of Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, Lewis' The Chronicles of Narnia, and theirs the first mouths to offer critique.

Modeled after that group, the American Inklings are artistic souls who meet twice a month to share, critique, and possibly collaborate on various creative projects: poems, stories, songs--whatever the Muse inspires!

There's no commitment: Come as you're able, share your writings or ideas, or just listen and be inspired!

For more on the original Inklings click here and here.

For more on my co-founder: King Alfred

See you on the 10th!

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

Dining Out Discovery

A good meal soothes the soul as it regenerates the body.
From the abundance of it flows a benign benevolence.
~ Frederick W. Hackwood, Good Cheer

For Lent, one of the excursions I gave up was dining out. I thought this was going to be a great hardship. I like to try new dishes, sample different wines and pass a critical taste bud or two over exotic desserts.

And I did indeed miss it. I spent approximately 40 days and nights without setting foot in one restaurant. Once Easter arrived, I was sure that I would jump in the car and head over to one of my favorite gastronomic haunts.

Strangely, this did not happen. I think extreme fatigue from singing from Holy Thursday evening to Easter Sunday morning played a role in my reluctance to stray too far from the boudoir. But once I recovered, I wasted no time in making lunch dates with a couple of friends.

Nothing prepared me for the shock. I took one bite of a medium rare bit of happiness and it tasted like sawdust. This was very odd indeed. This strange state of affairs did not change when a week later, I joined another friend for dessert. In fact, it got much worse. What, you ask, could possibly be worse than filet mignon tasting like sawdust?! Flourless chocolate cake ~ tasting like the inside of a refrigerator that hasn’t been opened in a week. Or two. That is not simply unpalatable, it is just wrong.

I found myself thinking, ‘eating out is so over-rated! My cooking is much better!’ What can I say? Humility is acknowledging the truth. ;o)

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

Out of the Box

Music is your own experience, your thoughts, your wisdom.
If you don't live it, it won't come out of your horn.
~ Charlie Parker

A few deep, soul-searching conversations with friends over the past couple of weeks, together with near perfect weather, an afternoon spent planning out the garden and a considerable amount of time on the bench while a sweet breeze stirred the sheers at the bay window, produced a new song about stepping out of the old, pain-filled comfort zone and into the sunlight of emotional and spiritual freedom.

A pain-filled comfort zone? Oh yes. As much as it sounds like an oxymoron that is exactly what it is. You know the old saying: “Better the devil you know, then the devil you don’t.” There are many factors that come into play when a person stays in a painful situation. But the one I am talking about comes from a combination of a fear of the unknown and a lack of confidence or hope in yourself.

Perhaps the effect of talking things over with friends helped loosen the chains that kept that box shut. Or perhaps it was the fact that I simply had two full nights of silence, peaceful, uninterrupted sleep. Or the country air and the feel of the grass and the sight of the cherry blossoms in the orchard and lilacs just beginning to bloom.

Whatever it was, the chains are off, the box is open and the contents are being gone through and either thrown out or simply put in perspective.

Spring is here. Time to pull out old boxes and open them up to the warmth of the sun.

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

Jazzy Blues

The sad truth is that excellence makes people nervous.
~ Shana Alexander

A couple of friends of mine, John Cropp and Maria “Pete” Durgan are in a great jazz/blues band called Novazanz. Pete is an incredible bass guitarist and John is…phenomenal. He is one of the best lead guitarists I have heard in quite awhile. I have now had the pleasure and privilege of improvising with both of them.

Last Friday night I got a chance to sing with them…in public…in front of strangers….you know, people I do not know, who have never heard me sing before…scary people. John and Pete had suggested that the next time they played somewhere, I should come and do a song with them ~ to get my feet wet and my nerves a shot in the arm ~ so to speak.

Reading into the above quote, I must have been at the top of my form because I was nervous as all get out! In fact, I sang with my eyes pretty much closed the whole time: harking back to days of old when yours truly walked down the aisle countless times as a shy flower girl…with her eyes closed. Some things never change.

I do not even remember if the five people in the bar clapped after my very nervous interpretation of Summertime. Sullivan had come along to cheer on both John and Pete (and talented drummer Kirby, who joins them off and on) and declared my debut a success. I think it was more the event of actually getting me up in front of *gasp* other people that was most exciting.

Sitting behind a piano opening my soul to people with every composition always carries a sense of nakedness ~ it is the nature of art. But singing a cover song, without a piano to hide behind engenders much more of a naked feeling. However, now my feet are wet and hopefully the next time I am asked (or made) to sing before strangers, it will not be as traumatic. ;o)

Novazanz is incredibly talented and the next time you have a chance, come enjoy an evening of bossa nova blues and jazz at one of their gigs. See ya soon John and Pete!

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

In Black and White

Write without pay until somebody offers to pay you. If nobody offers within three years, sawing wood is what you were intended for.
~ Mark Twain

Well, no one offered to pay me. And it hasn’t been three years yet. And I’m a girl. So I think I’ll hold off on sawing wood.

I’ve been published!! Yippee! One poem today, a whole novel tomorrow! Did I just say that? *looks into glass* Yes ~ my ice is decidedly lonely. I’m going to go for a re-fill and bask in the glory of being published.

Take a look and let me know what you think!

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

Of Pärt and Port II

As for sacred polyphony, there is no reason to be afraid of it.
~ Richard Morris

Yesterday's post about Sunday’s feast for ear and tastebuds was longer than I anticipated, so today I am posting the second half of my musings on that delightful evening: the St. Matthew’s Choir and Schola’s performance of Lenten vespers in general and Arvo Pärt’s Magnificat in particular.

Nobody else wanted to drive downtown and seeing as they were not aware of my great and grand ability for becoming hopelessly lost every time I drive there, we all piled into the Ukarist-mobile, with the CD player alternately blasting fado and Pärt selections. We had crossed the Potomac and were cruising down Constitution when I brought the flow of conversation to a halt with “Uh, people? We have a slight problem here…..I don’t know where we’re going!”

This announcement was followed by a chorus of “I don’t know either” and about 5 minutes driving in the general direction of K and M Streets. After expressing general dissatisfaction with every other driver on the road and the general low IQ of every pedestrian who waltzed and meandered and jay walked in front of me, I finally threw my cell phone at Sullivan and said “I know! Call information and ask for St. Matt’s.” Surprisingly, someone answered the phone and told us the cross streets. Halleluiah! (Oops! Not supposed to use that word for another 3 weeks!) Actually, I think I let fly a good Southern yeeha.

Anyway, after muttering prayers to St. Anthony for a really good, close parking space and being graced with one right behind the cathedral, the five of us walked in to St. Matthew’s and found a pew right near the front.

Now technically, to gain the full effect of a polyphonic performance in an acoustically ideal space, one should really sit in the middle, towards the rear. But Sunday night, sitting up front in no way detracted from the musical delight that awaited us.

The Choir and Schola, the men on the left and the women on the right, chanted the vespers as they are meant to be ~ alternating back and forth. The Latin was pronounced beautifully and the voices were clear and smooth. My companions and I sat back and let the peaceful rhythms and natural melody envelope our souls.

But as beautiful as the chant was, its elegant execution in no way prepared us for the ecstasy of hearing Pärt’s Magnificat.

Bill Culverhouse did an incredible job directing ~ the dynamics were breathtaking and perfectly matched to both the meaning of the words and the music. There is no other way to describe the experience: I closed my eyes and literally swooned in the pew. Sullivan later told me that he was equally moved ~ both by the piece itself and the near perfect performance of it. The only thing that was grating to the ears was Monsignor Jameson's butchering of the Latin texts. But even that could not hide the brilliant performance by Culverhouse and company.

The next time you’re in town and the St. Matthew’s Choir and Schola are performing (May 2006), definitely put it on your list of things to do.

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

Of Pärt and Port

Seating themselves on the greensward, they eat while the corks fly
and there is talk, laughter and merriment, and perfect freedom….
~ Jean-Anthelme Brillat-Savarin

Sunday evening saw a feast for two of my favorite senses: taste and hearing. My good friend Janet had informed me that the St. Matthew’s Cathedral Choir and Schola were going to be performing Lenten Vespers, including a rendering of Arvo Pärt’s Magnificat.

Several of my friends are big time fans of Gregorian Chant and sacred polyphony. So we decided to gather at my house for an early pre-concert dinner and then drive across the river to the Cathedral.

Dinner was at four o’clock, and knowing I would not have much cooking time after singing at the 10:45 low Mass, I enlisted the talents of both Janet and another friend, Leslie, one to bring salad and the other to bring dessert. A housemate was in charge of the green vegetable. I then went to work on the entrée: Roast Chicken with Maple Soy Glaze.

With my great love of cooking and feeding people, one would think I had roasted a whole chicken before. Sadly, this was not the case. The first task was to “Run hands under chicken skin to loosen.” You have got to be joking. I stared at the chicken. And stared at it some more. And then got out a thin, sharp knife.

The skin was now loosened. Also sliced through in a couple of places, but at least I did not have to actually touch the chicken. This bliss was not to last very long.

My next task was to take butter and rub it all over the chicken, including under the now loosened skin. Honestly, I do not know what it is about raw chicken that grosses me out. Red meat, bleeding all over the place doesn’t make me bat an eye. But raw chicken seems so….I don’t know….RAW.

Once my hand was lathered in sweet cream butter (margarine ~ so wrong on so many levels!) I was focused more how juicy and tender this would make the bird and not on the fact that I was touching raw chicken. I smashed fresh garlic and ginger and stuffed them into the cavity, then squeezed fresh orange over the outside and stuffed the pieces in as well. Next came my favorite part: adding the alcohol.

Cooking with alcohol adds so many wonderful flavors, depending on the recipe. This one called for sherry. I happily went down to the basement where I keep all my wines and spirits. Happily that is until I realized that I only thought I had sherry in stock. It was too late to run out and buy a bottle. There was no one left to call and the bird need to be doused and put in the oven soon or dinner would consist of salad, asparagus and dessert!

I searched among the bottles looking for a good substitute for sherry. My hand grasped a bottle of port. If my palate remembered correctly, port is sweet like sherry, and it was the same colour as sherry. Good enough for me! :-)

Placing the chicken in the roasting pan (after making it dance a jig – what?! Ok, so I also have a weird sense of humour!), and pouring port over it liberally, I popped it in the oven and turned my attention to making fresh French bread.

The recipe is an excellent one, straight out of Southern Living. I had made bread from that recipe several times before with glorious results. Sunday, something did not cooperate. The yeast expanded beautifully in the right temperature of water, the dough came together nicely in the mixer. But when it came time to knead it, it clung to my floured hands like the Swamp Thing. It had never done this before. Usually it was quite docile and smooth when I kneaded it. I finally managed to scrap most of it off my hands and placed the gooey lump in a greased bowl and set it aside to rise for an hour.

While waiting for the bread to take care of itself and get over its slump, I gathered the ingredients for the maple-soy glaze for the chicken. Generally, I have most ingredients ~ they are simply stock items that a cook always has on hand. However, I also like to cook on the fly, trying out different recipes or coming up with new ones based on the bare minimum of ingredients.

The glaze called for pure maple syrup, rice vinegar, soy sauce and hot sauce. I used soy sauce, Log Cabin syrup, apple vinegar and red pepper flakes. I basted the chicken in the glaze every few minutes. When it was done, the skin was a nice sweet crackly brown. This made up for the French bread, which never did rise, but I baked anyway and my friends declared it a success ~ not having tried my previous truly successful attempts at bread making.

A nice bottle of red wine, artful salad, tender young asparagus and a decadent chocolate mousse rounded out the gastronomic portion of the evening.

Next time: concert notes.

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

Fado Obssession

There is no doubt that the first requirement for a composer is to be dead.
~ Arthur Honegger

Call me obsessed. But when I am introduced to a new song or style of music, or when I have written a new song, that song or music style becomes my favorite and I cannot get enough of it. Of course, this is not to say that I do not have songs that never fall out of favor. But the new kid on the block is always big news for a long, long time.

The flavor of the month is fado. I am surprised the Dulce Pontes CD my friend generously lent me this weekend (after prying it from his own CD player) is not worn down already. It’s gone from car to house stereo back to car to office computer. I was playing it at home and one of my housemates who speaks Portuguese, burst into my room and said “Hey, that sounds like fado!” I said, “It is! Can you translate?” She could not. Not a big surprise, considering that like most English songs, you cannot always tell what the singer is singing. Unfortunate, because if you’re like me (and I know I am!) the lyrics are the most important element of the music.

Anyway, I have become so enthralled with the style, that when I sat down Saturday evening to compose Song Two of the MacBeth Project, I ended up with a tribute to fado instead. No title yet, and it is by no means the real deal. But the Portuguese-speaking housemate heard it and said that I had captured the feeling that fado conveys: waiting, loneliness, deep, soul sadness and melancholy.

Sullivan was over on Sunday and paid me a great compliment when he heard the new piece: “You just keep getting better! Every new song you compose is better than the last.”

Which proves Honegger correct: by the time I am dead, my music should be perfect. ;-)

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

Fado

It is cruel, you know, that music should be so beautiful. It has the beauty of loneliness & of pain: of strength & freedom. The beauty of disappointment & never-satisfied love. The cruel beauty of nature, & everlasting beauty of monotony.
~ Benjamin Britten

It is said of writers that the greatest part of their time is spent reading other books. It is part of what makes a talented writer ~ knowing where we have been literarily before being able to make a lasting mark on the literary future.

The same can be said of music. A musician is constantly adding to his music library and experimenting with different styles and forms of music.

This week, I added another style to my collection of favorite music to listen to: Portuguese fado. Listen once to this haunting, sea-inspired music and you will know why I have fallen in love with it: it is an earthy, dark and melancholic music, full of longing and “the beauty of loneliness & of pain.” As one article states: “a fado performance is not successful if an audience is not moved to tears.”

My appreciation for this form of music is still new and so far, I have only listened to three albums by one artist: Dulce Pontes. I already had a great respect for her talent when she teamed up with Andrea Bocelli for O Mare e Tu on Sogno. And she was recommended to me as the best intro to fado.

My personal favorites:
1. Cancao Do Mar (Song Of The Sea)
2. Lagrima
3. Fado Portugues
4. Povo Que Lavas No Rio

As a musician, I am always looking for new melodies that touch the listener deep in their soul and elicit intense emotion. At a performance I gave in while I was in college, I remember telling the audience that I wanted them to sit back, relax and just feel. Fado does that ~ you can’t express it, you just feel it.

Here’s to moving more audiences to tears.

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

Expressing MacBeth

After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.
~ Aldous Huxley

A break through!

After months of racking my brain, pounding the keys, walking away from it for awhile and vacilitating between looks of anguished pleading and dark frustration, the Muse finally relented. Sullivan and I resurrected the MacBeth Project last night and worked on Song One. In roughly an hour and a half, we had a completed piece. Amazing! We were both floored. I think that is the fastest I have written any music.

Sullivan had already done an excellent job of writing the lyrics and he had some idea of what he wanted the piece to feel like. Once he walked me through it, I tried to execute that feeling. I must have succeeded for he declared it better than the last project, until I started playing the beginning notes of Song Three of the LOLAL. Then he groaned and said that perhaps this new one was a very close second as his favorite song. It certainly is much darker than any other songs I have composed. But then go figure, MacBeth is the subject material. :-)

One thing this song definitely needs is a cello. Anybody out there interested?

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

Not Your Ordinary Post

3/23/06 ~ I have revised some passages on this post, since some were not worded clearly. ~ MD

I do not usually post on politics, church or otherwise, not because I do not feel passionately about such things, rather I bow to other bloggers who are more eloquent or more learned about such things. This however, is occurring in my own backyard and therefore, I feel I must throw in my two cents….

The liturgical shot heard ‘round the world…..

Well, maybe the vibrations from today’s annual Bishop’s meeting with the priests of the Arlington Diocese here in Virginia will not reverberate quite as loudly as perhaps SF Catholic Charities faux pas, or the ongoing talks in Rome about liturgical reform; nonetheless for the faithful here the impact will be great.

A great divide that is. Bishop Loverde, wishing to appear truly liberal (i.e. do whatever you want, be it progressive or traditional) has stated that “Effective immediately, pastors in the diocese, after consultation with their parochial vicars, deacons and the parish pastoral councils, may decide on a parish-by-parish basis to include women and girls as altar servers.” and at the same time has designated two parishes (at either end of the beltway, I might add) as “indult parishes”, i.e. parishes were the Mass according to the 1962 Missal, or Tridentine Mass, may be celebrated.

For the most part, I believe things will remain status quo. Parishes such as St. John’s in McLean, St. Rita’s in Alexandria, and St. Andrew’s in Clifton, will opt to keep male-only acolytes. Queen of Peace, Nativity Parish and St. Thomas More Cathedral will opt to introduce them. But this should come as no surprise to anyone as the three former are all known to be more traditional and the three latter more progressive.

As I heard one local priest say, “This will only serve to further divide the clergy. And good people in the crazy parishes will leave and go to the more solid parishes. So if I get assigned to one of the whacko parishes, I won’t have the support of good, solid families, because they won’t be there!”

He has a point. And while I feel badly about it on the one hand, that very thing has been happening throughout the diocese way before this decision. This issue, however, will only serve to bleed more of the solid, traditional parishioners to other parishes. One fellow Catholic said that he had always stayed at his local parish (meaning he lived within its geographic boundaries) because he felt it was better to try and make a difference locally. Now?

I think Loverde, and other Princes of the church of his persuasion, will find that in trying to appease both sides, he will succeed. But at the end of the day, his pocket book will either stay at the same level or shrink. The Roman Catholic Church is not a democracy, but the laity are the ones who keep it running financially. And those who give generously over time are more likely to be traditional. And some have already told me, 1962 Missal or not, their money is not going to the annual Lenten appeal nor anywhere near the Chancery, but to those priests and Bishops who uphold all truth and not just parts of it.

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

P.S. No worries, Padre ~ if you get sent to the wacky boons, there will always be a place set at our table for you.

MacBeth Update

Like stones, words are laborious and unforgiving, and the fitting of them together, like the fitting of stones, demands great patience and strength of purpose and particular skill.

~ Edmund Morrison

Perhaps it is spring fever. Perhaps the Muse has caught it too. Whatever it is, Sullivan has done a fine job with Song One of our MacBeth Project but I on the other hand, have done absolutely nothing with it!

In the LOLAL, there is one continuous melody threaded throughout all three pieces, connecting them together for the hearer. It works beautifully (if I may say) and I considered doing something similar with the MBP. But so far, nothing. Not one single note!

A weekend in the country would stir up the senses, I thought. But although the weather was perfect, I was relaxed and I did improvise some lovely instrumentals, MacBeth lay stubbornly silent and uninspired!

I need to bounce some ideas off of my music partner ~ Sullivan! Where are you?! Come out of retirement and call me!

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

Writer's Lent

Writing, at its best, is a lonely life…. (The writer) grows in public stature as he sheds his loneliness and often his work deteriorates. For he does his work alone and if he is a good enough writer he must face eternity, or the lack of it, each day.
~ Ernest Hemingway

This is most certainly the reason why I have not posted one drop of ink in quite a few days. I had extra work at my job to tend to, social functions to attend, a backache to heal, and stress to blame for it ~ I was swamped! The mere fact that I am writing now does not indicate that I am less swamped, but perhaps that it spite of being so, I have finally managed to raise my head and my hands out of the murky mess of life and grab on to a keyboard ~ both computer and piano.

Distractions are the bane of my writing existence. Actually, distractions are quite possibly the bane of my whole existence. There is always something else I could be doing, or that I am doing, or that is on my calendar to do. More to the point, there is always somewhere I could, am or will be going. Thus the quill lies forgotten, gathering dust and the pages yellow and curl and not a thought is captured for posterity.

Lent can be an ideal time then for a writer ~ at least for this writer. Days of fast and abstinence and reflection should provide ample solitude. A solitude which should hopefully result in many words upon many pages. Pray that it is so.

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

Literary Thyme

Vegetables are interesting but lack a sense of purpose when unaccompanied by a good cut of meat.
~Fran Lebowitz

A good portion of my time last week was given to preparing for the Annual WCF Winter Ball ~ which almost wasn’t due to, well, winter weather! In the end, the Nor’easter only dusted the ground, making driving relatively painless ~ at least until midnight. Then Sunday morning we woke up to about 5-8 inches ~ finally! I was getting the winter blues - 50 degree weather in February is just wrong!

Amidst all the preparation, Sullivan and I did manage to meet for lunch to discuss our latest brainstorm (outside of MacBeth) ~ an American Inklings group. It had occurred to me that in essence, he and I were already doing what the original Inklings did: meet and critique each other’s writings. All that was missing was meeting over a superb European dinner (i.e. late and infinite) and a single malt Scotch ~ or a Brandy Alexander, girlie girl that I am! ;-)

Perhaps such a group already exists, but if it does, we have yet to find it. We’re not sure how we want the group to look, though we do know we want to keep it intimate enough to allow bonds of friendship to form and trust to develop in each other’s opinions. So last week, we met for lunch at one of several places I had researched to be our American “Bird and Baby.”

As Sullivan observed about Rosemary’s Thyme Bistro: “adding "bistro" to your name automatically entitles you to charge $15 for lunch!" We both had the Adana Kabob ~ a mixture of lamb and beef over jasmine rice, served with roasted vegetables and tzatziki sauce. It was delightfully spicy ~ just enough for the tzatziki sauce to refresh the palette between bites. For dessert, I ordered crème brulee (big shocker there!) while Sullivan decided to try the cappuccino flan. The crème brulee wasn’t bad ~ but I think they must have been talking while holding the torch over the sugar ~ it tasted a tad sooty. The cappuccino flan however was decadent and well worth the wait.

All told, we spent about $50 on lunch for two. Given the high price tag (call me thrifty), and the lack of a private space in which to read aloud and pontificate on all things literary, the American Inklings will continue searching for our version of a dark English pub for after dinner Scotch that would make Tolkien, Lewis, Williams and the other Inklings proud.

By the way, if you are a writer living in the general area of Northern Virginia and have at least some knowledge of Lewis and Tolkien and would love to have other amateur writers rip your masterpieces to shreds, drop Sullivan or I a line. ;-)

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

Tagged

Not only have I been tagged, I have also been badgered for my answers! :P So here you go, your majesty. ;o)

Remove the blog in the top spot from the following list and bump everyone up one place. Then add your blog to the bottom slot, like so.

1) Jeni
2) Anastasia
3) Haligweorc
4) King Alfred
5) Mikaela D’Eigh

Next select five people to tag
1) Real Physics
2) Life is Romantic
3) Nobody Here
4) Veritas et Venustas
5) Laodicea

What were you doing 10 years ago?
Like King Alfred, I too remember the biggest ice storm in my memory in Virginia. It devastated acres and acres of trees, some very ancient ~ but it was also one of the most beautiful acts of nature I have seen in awhile. I hadn’t left yet for the spring semester and was still at home in the country. We went without power for a week, and one of my memories is of being bundled up by the kitchen fireplace, eating mac and cheese that tasted like soot. So much for the romance of cooking over a fire!

What were you doing 1 year ago?
January 2005: Shrine Crypt Keeper. ;o)

Five snacks you enjoy:
1. Sweets and Beets (organic chips made out of sweet taters and beets)
2. Bacon Wrapped Medjool Dates stuffed with Manchego or Parmesan Cheese – albeit a time consuming snack to make, but well worth the effort!
3. Pizza Rolls
4. Homemade bread right out of the oven
5. Crème brulee ~ not a snack, but truly a gift from God!

Five songs you know all the words to:
1. Latin Mass Propers
2. Almost anything written by Palestrina and Victoria
3. Almost anything written during WWII
4. Skellig - Loreena McKennitt
5. Too many to list

Five things you would do if you were a millionaire:
1. Pay off debts
2. Pay for several seminarians’ formation and education
3. Save beautiful historic churches and homes slated for either the auction block, the wrecking ball or “wreckovation.”
4. Buy a Steinway concert grand
5. I’m with King Alfred on this one: Buy a heck of a lot of books, and house them in a cherry/mahogany library in the historic house that I bought at #3.

Five bad habits:
1. Not writing every day
2. Hitting the snooze button
3-5. What, you thought this was Oprah? With King A on this one too.

Five things you enjoy doing:
1. Holy Hours
2. Spending time with family and friends
3. Writing, composing and playing the piano
4. Hosting parties; cooking and decorating for said parties.
5. Anything cultural – esp if it has to do with anything ancient and beautiful.

Five things you would never wear again:
1. My favorite red shirt I had as a kid that I loved so much my mother made it into a pillow – complete with arms still attached.
2. The clunky shoes I wore in college.
3. Anything with Winnie the Pooh printed on it.
4. Can’t think of anything else.

Five favorite toys:
1. My baby grands – yep, 2 of them (and no Steinway yet!)
2. Pen and ink collection ~ more like an obsession
3. Book library
4. Music (vinyl and CD) collection
5. My rockin’, fire engine-red Kitchen Aid mixer. :o)

Poetry & MacBeth II

Your face, my thane, is as a book where men

May read strange matters.
~ Shakespeare, MacBeth, (1.5.63)

Work on the MacBeth collaboration has begun with a bang ~ I already have one song composed ~ both music and lyrics. I already see a pattern developing in my composition style: this is actually Song 3 or 4 (we have not yet decided how many we would like to write) in the series.

It had been my intention to attend a discussion group Saturday evening, but I decided that one trip into DC (to become certified as a Theology of the Body Study Group facilitator) was travel enough for one day. Now I am doubly glad I stayed in that night! I must have called Sullivan at least five times ~ every two verses that were written. By the fifth time, he answered the phone with “What’ve ya got?” Our plan is to get together this week and brainstorm. After our experience with LOLAL*, I am sure that this first poor little song will go through numerous re-writes.

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

*© 2005 Silver Scroll Productions