Weekend in New England: Part I

It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to.
~ J.R.R. Tolkien (Bilbo Baggins)

Back in July I went up to New England for a mini-vacation with some close friends. Sullivan has an aunt and uncle who have a house up in New Hampshire that they let us use for 4 days. It was absolutely glorious! Silly me forgot her camera; however, both Sullivan and Jeannette brought theirs and took lovely pictures, some of which I will post here.

We left the DC area at 10:30pm on Thursday, July 12 and arrived in NYC at 3:00am at our friend Diane’s abode in the heart of Harlem. Leaving so late for an 11 road hour trip may sound crazy enough, but what added to the hilarity of it was the presence of a rather large chair, which Sullivan put in the trunk. Well, at least one foot in the trunk. The rest of it was hanging out behind, firmly tied down. But that was not all! There was an ottoman, which we affectionately named Otto, that went with the chair. He took up residence in the backseat of the car, between Jeanette and Ames. It made for quite an interesting 5 hours. We played “Istanbul, Not Constantinople” in Otto's honor. :-)

Once we dropped off Otto and his chair at Diane’s, and she took his place in the backseat, we were back on the road to New Hampshire. We reached Providence around 6 a.m. and stopped to have breakfast with Dan, a college friend. I was not as tired or freaked out as I thought I would be after close to 8 hours in a Dodge Neon with 4 people. Euro trash techno helped immensely and as I was riding shotgun, I was in charge of music. Ah….bliss!

We finally made it into North Hampton around 10 am and decided to stop at the house and get settled before heading to the beach. The house was beautiful with a huge screened in porch and an expansive front and side lawn. Then we headed to the grocery store and packed a picnic lunch and headed to the beach.

I’m a country gal. I grew up with black beef cattle for neighbors and wide expanses of rolling hills and trees and an occasional mountain range thrown in for good measure. The beaches I have been to have all been here in the Old Dominion and are sandy and soft, the water cool if not downright tepid. This was my first introduction to the New England coast. And what a stony and cold one it was! (Sort of how New Englander’s are….haha! A little joke at all my yankee friends’ expense….and hopefully not the last….hee!)

Supposedly walking on hot rocks is therapeutic. People pay hundreds of dollars to do this at a spa. We did it for free and it was NOT therapeutic! It was, well, stony! Ouch! Standing in the ice cold Atlantic, however, was. I felt like a kid again, my skirt hitched up to my knees, my bare feet clinging desperately to various medium to large sized rocks, as the waves crashed into me.

Sullivan stood further out than I did, being braver and having on shorts. He kept encouraging me to come closer to the waves, at times taunting my reluctance and at others, grabbing hold of my hand as I tentatively edged away from the shore. I kept saying, “Are you crazy!? I’m not standing on THAT little rock! I’ll be washed away!” And he would just laugh and then after about 5 minutes debating it, I would quickly hop to another rock. It would have been quite a hoot if I had fallen in and become completely soaked. Luckily, this did not happen. Now, however, I kind of wish it had!

After we struggled painfully back up to where Ames, Jeannette and Diane were sunning, I was instantly aware of the significance of stepping further and further out into the water, away from the painful, but safe shore and immediately began to write a poem about it. I felt something inside me give way and for the first time in a long time, I felt completely alive, completely relaxed and ready to dive into life. More importantly, I felt completely loved and accepted for who I am.

This became the theme of the rest of the trip: risking, letting go, trying new things, leaving my public face behind and growing closer to loved ones. All of us on this trip, I think, experienced the same things, albeit in different ways and to a different extent. But one thing was definitely true for all of us: these people are the core that we can count on to be there, both emotionally and physically, when we need them. This revelation was healing and in conjunction with all the other lessons I was learning, this trip proved to be another turning point in my journey. I am one step closer to self-discovery and therefore, one step closer to self-gift.

Oremus pro invicem,
~ Mikaela

Where's a Time Turner When You Need One!?

Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so.
~ Douglas Adams

My apologies for being AWOL for the past few weeks. I have been busy re-reading Books 5 and 6 of Harry Potter in order to have the events fresh in my mind when beginning Book 7, which I have now dived into; spending as much time as I could with a dear friend before sending him off to California; practicing for an upcoming concert I am singing in this coming Saturday and generally being swamped at work. In between that I have been working on a blog post about my recent trip to New Hampshire and meditating on Mr. F’s thoughts on relationships and reading books on the subject as well to prepare another post.

Meanwhile read Mr. F’s insightful posts on the subject of Divine love, human love and relationships and I will try to make time to write and post soon.

Oremus pro invicem,
~ Mikaela

The Lost Weekend

For whatsoeuer from one place doth fall,
Is with the tide vnto an other brought:
For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought.
~ Edmund Spenser, The Faeire Queen

Last weekend I went to spend some time in the country. I had not been home since April or May, so I was looking forward to some quiet, peaceful time imbibing Nature.

Eternal sigh.

Sometimes a peaceful weekend at home is just that: peaceful. At others, it is the anti-thesis of peace. This particular weekend was....well, guilt is not the opposite of peace but it sure robs the soul of any that it had! The worst kind of guilt is guilt due to sin ~ the knowledge that we have done something wrong. But a close second is mother/father guilt. Father guilt is actually worse than mother guilt, at least from a daughter's perspective.

Ugh.

Anyway, this post is not about my family angst. The point is, that although it was a lost weekend in terms of a peaceful getaway, my trusted friend was waiting for me, patient and beautifully in tune. No song ever written is more true than Billy Joel's My Baby Grand. Mine has definitely been good to me. I sat down, played a few bars of a couple of unfinished songs and then promptly composed a new one.

I cannot remember the last time I composed a whole song from beginning to end in one sitting. It has been awhile. Stagnant. Uninspired. And here I have this new show to put together. Which means old songs to polish and new ones to compose. I have had two unfinished songs mocking me from the stand for weeks. Now, all of a sudden, I have one new one composed. Completed, ready to be critiqued and polished and one of the unfinished ones now also completed.

Maybe I just had not been suffering enough.

Byron said that a man can see further through a tear than through a telescope. That is certainly true. Suffering or pain, strips away the non-essentials and one can see more clearly what is really important and you cannot hide from your emotions or from relationships any longer.

Ahhh, relationships. Yeah.

Anyway...the newly finished song is about regret: wishing that I had said something about how I felt, wishing that I had even known how I really felt....only it's too late. You've moved on, or you can't forgive me. The new "new" song is about the last thread of hope, the last attempt to make things work out: "Maybe it's not written in the stars....But what if we let go and opened our eyes?"

The new song is where I'm at now. The newly finished one is where I don't want to be. I would much rather regret something I did, rather than something I did not do that I should have. But it seems like I am forever missing my cues. In the case of relationships, either I am interested and he is not. Or he is and I am not. Or as is more often the case, he is interested, and I am interested, but neither of us knows the other is interested and then we both lose interest due to lack of real, concrete encouragement. I feel seasick just writing that!

It is sort of like stage fright. You know you have talent. You know you are good. You know people enjoy your music. But that knowledge does nothing to stop your leg from shaking like a leaf every time you take the stage. (And darn it all, it's the leg that's attached to the foot that I use for the damper pedal!) So, I know I should be open, I know I should be vulnerable and step out in faith. That does't stop me from being afraid. And right now, being afraid does stop me from truely enjoying the ride. Don't blame me too much, my journey isn't over yet.

Meanwhile, being crossed in love has been good for me in that it has given me many songs. One that I wrote in college, which thankfully is lost to both memory and bad filing, was even called You Were Good for a Song. Hee!

What can I say? Music is my first love and if heartache be the Muse I have been given, bring it on!

It's totally worth it.

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

Sailing Out of Safe Harbors

A ship in safe harbor is safe, but that is not what a ship is built for.
~ William Stedd

As I said yesterday, the real purpose of the trip to New York was to check out the Catholic Underground. My friend Diane is a parishioner at Our Lady of Good Counsel, where CU meets in Manhattan. Having attended their monthly evening concerts and being a fan of my music, Diane suggested that this might be a good fit for a future gig. So I went up to check out the venue.

CU is on break for the summer and will start up again in September. But it was still a good idea to get a look around and get comfortable with the setting. I’ll be heading up that way again in September, and hope to get a better feel for the energy when it’s packed.

After Adoration, Diane, Eric and I went to Fetch for drinks and dessert (very good Margaritas and cheesecake ~ mmmm!) and that is when my life took a dramatic turn. Both Diane and Eric took turns kicking my acreage regarding my music and my hesitancy to share it with a larger audience. The conversation can basically be summed up this way: God has given me the gift of music and if I don’t share it with a wider audience, than that is burying my talent and I will be held accountable for that when I die.

Whoa.

Never thought about it quite in those terms. I have been complimented, asked if a CD could be pre-ordered, told consistently that my music is good and that I have what it takes. For whatever reason, it never made a dent ~ those negative tapes that kept playing in my head drowned them out. I do not know what it was that spoke so clearly to me this time, but that night, I finally got it. And believed it. Believed in the gift and what I need to do with it. The energy produced by this new self-knowledge and acceptance of support was incredible. It was as if I were staring at a train, and the conductor was holding out his hand, inviting me aboard.

No one but another artist understands the interior battles that I live with every day in regards to my art. Self-doubt is a constant companion. One of the lines I tell people at a concert is “Come on ~ clap! Musicians need love!” It always garners a laugh, but I am serious! The soul stands naked in the spotlight. If the audience gives verbal affirmation to the art, then the soul is not as conscious of its nakedness. But if there is no feedback, or (the ultimate slap in the face) bored indifference, then the soul is made painfully aware that its beauty is not appreciated and feels that its art has been cheapened.

So though I now realized that I really had no choice but to continue to grow my talent, and to share it with more people, I was still painfully aware of the risks such sharing entails. This fear has dogged me all my life.

So I kept staring excitedly at the train, but I did not get on.

The next day we met Imelda for lunch. Lovingly, but firmly, she pushed me on to the train, which turned out to be an express! I found myself saying yes to performing a benefit concert near her home in Connecticut. And she really didn’t allow me to say no by graciously offering to act as my agent in the area, as I have never performed outside of the Washington, D.C. area and am unfamiliar with venues. That will all change in September when I premiere my new show, The Edge of Love: Finding My Voice.

Thank you to all my wonderful friends and fans who have always believed in the music. The journey is far from over, but I know I could not have come even this far without your love, support, prayers and tough talk! Thanks for joining me on this wild ride ~ y’all are a blessing!!

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

NYC: The Southern View

One doesn't discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore for a very long time.
~ Andre Gide

I have been meaning to write about my recent trip to New York City for a couple of weeks now. It was a life changing weekend for me and I needed a little time to process everything that happened. As such, I will do a couple of posts to cover the trip details. This first one will focus more on the city itself and the food.

I had been to New York City once before, my junior year of college, on a weekend trip with a group of friends to hear the Tallis Scholars perform works by Tomas Luis Victoria at the Church of St. Ignatius in Manhattan. We arrived at night, in time for the concert, but not in time to get a good walk around downtown. So I count this last trip as my first real look at New York City.

Sullivan grew up in Brooklyn, knows his way around and had friends we could stay with, so he came along to act as guide. And thank goodness he did! This little Southern Belle would have been completely lost! I am not quite a country bumpkin, but close enough to warrant and be exceedingly grateful to have a Yankee city slicker around. ;-)

The main purpose of this trip was two-fold: 1) to check out The Catholic Underground as a possible future gig and 2) to scout things out for the big New York trip with about 5 to 8 friends in mid-July. We took the bus from Chinatown in D.C. ~ for $35 roundtrip, you really can’t beat it! We would have spent more than that on gas alone! And our driver must have had NASCAR dreams as a child ~ we made it in under 4 hours. Even with my own mad NASCAR-esque driving skills, I could never have made it up that fast!

One of the first things we did once we arrived was meet Sullivan’s old family friend, Carl, who I immediately fell in love with. Carl is a stereotypical Brooklyn-ite ~ Italian descent, retired NYC cop, accent, attitude and all! He was a real gem whose wry wisdom and dry humour kept me in stitches practically the whole weekend. He picked us up and we went to meet my friend Diane for a late lunch at Katz’s Deli (where apparently Harry met Sally ~ never saw the movie) and I had my first taste of New York City: the biggest hard salami sandwich I have ever seen and half-sour pickles. Half-sour? Yes. I thought it was weird too ~ but they were delicious! It was almost like eating a cucumber fresh from the garden, with just a slight pickle taste to it. I also ordered fries and they were the best fries I have ever had…anywhere…period.

But what impressed me most was the friendliness of the people! I was surprised to find that the stereotype of New Yorkers being grumpy and not talking to anyone is not really true ~ and yes I do live in a Southern cocoon. The guys behind the counter at Katz’s were sweet, funny and acted like we had been friends forever. It was a breath of fresh air. I felt like I was back in my hometown. It was a lovely experience and one that tickled Sullivan to no end. He and I are forever having lively yet playful debates on North vs. South. ;-)

My next foray into New York cuisine was on Sunday. We met my other friend, Imelda, for lunch at a downtown Manhattan pizzeria. More than once Sullivan and I have debated pizza as well: he insisting that New York pizza is far superior to any pizza we have in Virginia. To which I would respond with rolling my eyes. No more! My apologies, Sullivan. When it comes to New York pizza, I am in complete agreement with you ~ no pizza I have ever had in Virginia comes close! I now find myself longing for another slice and I think driving 4 or 5 hours for a good pie is not unreasonable! :-D

After lunch, we strolled down Broadway for awhile, where I bought the most sweet-smelling roses (Janet, you would have appreciated them!), posed in front of Juilliard and then Imelda made me close my eyes and then led me to the front of the Metropolitan Opera House. When I opened my eyes, it was the most glorious scene: the beautiful fountains in front of the Met were dancing lightly, almost in time with the strings playing Pachabel’s Canon in D in the background as a misty rain began to fall. It was a magical ending to an epic weekend.

Tomorrow: Sailing out of Safe Harbors

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

Musica Sacra: June 2007

Why waste money on psychotherapy when you can listen to the B Minor Mass?
~ Michael Torke

Mea culpa! I was in New York City this past weekend (a visit worthy of a future post) and did not have a chance to post the music list for Saint John the Beloved. Here it is for last weekend and for the upcoming Sundays. The choir will go on break in July and August and resume singing at Saint John’s in September.

This week it is not the b minor Mass, but the g minor Mass by Ralph Vaughn Williams. Truly a thing of beauty! Hope to see y’all there!

Holy Trinity (Cycle C) ~ June 3, 2007

Opening #201 All Hail, Adored Trinity / Introitus
Offertory Offertorium / Motet: Duo Seraphim – J. Handl
Communion Communio / Motet: Jam Sol Recedit – M. Franck
Recessional # 343 Holy, Holy, Holy

Missa Tertii Toni – Costanzo Porta

Corpus Christi ~ June 10, 2007

Opening # 213 Alleluia, Sing to Jesus / Introitus
Offertory Offertorium / Motet: Caro Mea – F. Guerrero
Communion Communio / Solo: Panis Angelicus – M. A. Charpentier
Recessional # 345 Holy God, We Praise Thy Name
Motet during Incensation: O Esca Viatorum - Isaac

Mass in G – R. Vaughan Williams

Ordinary XI ~ June 17, 2007 (Father’s Day) (No choir)

Birth of John the Baptist ~ June 24, 2007

Opening # 247 By All Your Saints Still Striving / Introitus
Offertory Offertorium / Motet: Jesu Dulcis Memoria – T. L. Victoria
Communion Communio / Chant: Ut Queant Laxis – Gregorian
Recessional # 617 Ye Watchers and Ye Holy Ones

Missa St. Joannis de Deo - F. J. Haydn

Oremus pro invicem,

Mikaela

Musica Sacra: Pentacost 2007

...You who go up through the sheepfolds to the hill, if by chance you see Him I love most, tell Him I am sick, I suffer, and I die.
~ Saint John of the Cross, Spiritual Canticle

Blessed Feast of Pentacost! Tomorrow's Noon Mass music promises to be absolutely glorious! The choir will be singing Vierne's Missa Solenelle. If you have not heard this piece written for choir and two organs, I urge you to buy the version by the Westminister Cathedral Choir. It is by far the best performance I have heard yet of this soul-stirring music. It reminds me of the first time I heard the Tallis Scholars perform a Victoria motet ~ there is no other word for the experience except ectasi-sensual. I know ~ that's not really a word. But the only other word I can think of would be scandalous to all save fellow melancholics and readers of the poetry of Saint John of the Cross. :-) Just take my word for it ~ you need to add this missa to your music collection.

Pentecost (May 27, 2007)

Opening # 267 Come Holy Ghost / Introitus
Sequence Veni Sancte Spiritus
Offertory Offertorium / Motet: Confirma Hoc, Deus – W. Byrd
Communion Communio / Motet: Panis Angelicus – R. Rice
Recessional # 524 Sing Praise to Our Creator

Messe Solennelle – L. Vierne

If you are in the area, I hope to see you there!

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

American Inklings: May 23 @ 7:00pm

Books aren't written - they're rewritten. Including your own. It is one of the hardest things to accept, especially after the seventh rewrite hasn't quite done it.
~ Michael Crichton

The next meeting of the American Inklings will take place next Wednesday, May 23, 2007 at 7:00pm at Cosi’s in the Reston Towne Center. Don’t forget to bring your works in progress and your “assignment” from last month: creating your dream dust jacket!

See y’all next week!

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

Musica Sacra: May 13th & 20th

Music cleanses the understanding; inspires it, and lifts it into a realm which it would not reach if it were left to itself.
~ Henry Ward Beecher

I was out of town this weekend planting a flower garden for my mom for Mother’s Day, so I did not get a chance to post today's music list. Here it is , along with next Sunday’s:

Ascension (May 20, 2007)

Opening #382 Hail the Day that Sees Him Rise / Introitus
Offertory Offertorium / Motet: Ascendit Deus – R. Rice
Commuinon Communio / Motet: O Clap Your Hands – R. V. Williams
Recessional #529 Sing We Triumphant Hymns of Praise

Missa Viri Galilae – G. P. Palestrina


Easter VI (May 13, 2007 ~ Mother’s Day)

Opening # 323 Good Christians Men, Rejoice and Sing / Introitus
Offertory Offertorium / Motet: Ave Maria – Z. Kodaly (S/A)
Communion Communio / Salve Mater – chant (T/B)
Recessional #212 Alleluia, Alleluia, Let the Holy Anthem Rise

Missa de Maria Virgine – G. Aichinger

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

Missa Musica

Let us then consider how we ought to behave ourselves in the presence of God and His angels, and so sing the psalms that mind and voice may be in harmony.
~Saint Benedict

One would think that after singing every day for 5 days during Easter, music and singing would become tiresome ~ not so! Here is the music list for this upcoming Sunday at Saint John the Beloved. Hope you can join us!

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

Easter V (May 6, 2007)

Opening #525 Sing of Mary / Introitus
Offertory Offertorium / Motet: Ave Maris Stella – E. Grieg
Communion Communio / Motet: Sub Tuum Presidium – W. A. Mozart
Recessional #330 Hail, Holy Queen Enthroned Above
Missa Brevis K 194 – W. A. Mozart

A Collaboration

When a singer truly feels and experiences what the music is all about, the words will automatically ring true.
~ Monserrat Caballé

Jon is leaving for the Holy Land on Monday. Since he will be without a piano for two weeks (that is brutal!) he came over to play mine the same night the American Inklings were over. So, although I had nothing to contribute to the group at large, Jon and I ended up collaborating on a new song ~ he wrote the music, I wrote the lyrics.

This is now only the third time I have collaborated on a song with someone. There is no set “way” of composing. Sometimes the lyrics come first, sometimes the music, sometimes both at the same time. This time around, I had mentioned to Jon the idea of collaborating and then he mentioned it again Saturday. So I said, well, let’s do it then ~ play something and I’ll see what I feel the music is saying.

His music painted a picture of rain, city streets and a broken relationship with a twist: the singer has recovered from the break up ~ she just can’t forget her lover’s eyes. I am still tinkering with the verses, tightening up the imagery (something I need work on in my other writing as well) and making sure it flows and helps define the story that the music tells.

Not bad for a Saturday evening! ;-) One of these days I will figure out how to add music files to this blog so you can actually hear what I am talking about!

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

Cocktails & Writer's Block

Good work doesn't happen with inspiration. It comes with constant, often tedious and deliberate effort. If your vision of a writer involves sitting in a cafe, sipping an aperitif with one's fellow geniuses, become a drunk. It's easier and far less exhausting.
~ William Hefferman

About a week ago, the American Inklings got together and sat, not in a café, but a living room and ate and drank with fellow writers. :-D However, none of us suffers from the illusion that just doing that will produce good work! It’s the time spent at the laptop or desk or wherever genius strikes that the real work is done.

Alas, I must confess that I ignored the cries of the writer inside and busied myself with other things and so had nothing substantial to contribute to the discussion. I did not even touch my two poems that I had wanted to revise and submit again to Dappled Things (which by the way, the Lent/Easter has been published and is online for your reading pleasure). Sigh.

Sullivan did keep us on track for the most part and our new assignment is to:

Think about all the things you would like to imagine you will write during your life, or the one special work you would like to be able to say you have written. Write the text of the dust jacket for your work or for the anthology of your works.

Whew. Note to self: make an appointment with self to write, write, write!

The next meeting is yet to be determined, but we will keep you posted!

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

American Inklings: April 14 @ 7:00pm

Imagination is more important than knowledge.
~ Albert Einstein on Science

The next meeting of the American Inklings will take place this Saturday, April 14, 2007 at 7:00pm at the Divine Mercy House. Among other things, we will be doing some writing exercises, vetting each other’s works in progress and gearing up to submit some of those works to Dappled Things for the next edition ~ which will be the first one in print ~ hooray!Submissions are due by Monday, April 16, 2007.

Writers ~ dip your pens and get crankin’!

Looking forward to seeing everyone!

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

Organ Concert at Saint John the Beloved

Only an artist who is profoundly steeped in the sensus Ecclesiae can attempt to perceive and express in melody the truth of the Mystery that is celebrated in the Liturgy.
~ John Paul II

One of those artists steeped in sensus Ecclesiae is Jonathan Laird ~ our very talented and humble assistant organist at Saint John the Beloved. Jon was over last night hanging out and unwinding after a long day of practicing and still itched to play my baby grand. After listening to him make it sing like it as never sung before, I am considering giving up the piano!!! :-) He is a truly gifted and amazing pianist, not to mention a deeply spiritual and thoughtful person. I am grateful and blessed to know him.

Tonight, he is giving an organ concert at the church at 7:30 in the evening. Pieces by J.S. Bach and his great, great, great, great, great, great grand-student, Marcel Dupré will be performed. If you are in the area, make time to attend and be uplifted and impressed.

See you there!

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

Music for the Sacred Triduum

There is nothing in the world so much like prayer as music is.
~William P. Merrill

The Easter Triduum has to be my three favorite days of the year. I remember as a child, going to the Good Friday service and hearing the timpani beat out the steps of Christ on the Via Dolorosa at the Veneration of the Cross. And nothing comes close to the Good Friday Reproaches in moving the heart to “Look and see if there is any sorrow like my sorrow…” (Lamentations 1:12). I have yet to find a musical setting of the Reproaches. If any of my readers know of one, please let me know!

One of my favorite pieces of choral music at this time of year is the Crux Fidelis ~ the same tune of which is sometimes used when singing the Pange Lingua. It ranks up there with Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence as a great piece of melancholic music.

We will not be singing that particular hymn, but here is a list of the music we will be singing for the Triduum at St. John’s in McLean, Virginia.

Holy Thursday April 5, 2007
Missa Pange Lingua – Josquin des Pres
Processional # 610 When I Survey the Wondrous Cross / Introitus
Washing of Feet Antiphons / Maneant in Vobis – R. Rice
Offertory Offertorium / Motet: – Ubi Caritas – H. Mardirosian
Communion Communio / Motets: Panis Angelicus – F. Peeters
O Esca Viatorum – Isaac / O Salutaris Hostia – G. Rossini
Recessional Pange Lingua / Tantum Ergo - Chant

Good Friday April 6, 2007
Processional # --- Silence
Gradual Christus Factus Est - Chant
Veneration Ecce lignum Crucis / Improperia / Miserere Mei – G. Allegri
Communion Motets: That Virgin’s Child – T. Tallis / Improperium Expectavit - G. Casali / Ave Verum Corpus – F. Poulenc / In Manus Tuas, Domine – J. Pujol
Recessional # --- Silence

Holy Saturday April 7, 2007
Coronation Mass – W. A. Mozart
Opening # -- Humbly We Adore Thee / Introitus
Offertory Offertorium / Motet: Haec Dies – J. Arcadelt
Communion # -- Communio / Alleluia! In Resurrectione Tua – J. Gallus Solo: The Trumpet Shall Sound – G. F. Handel
Recessional # 376 Jesus Christ Is Risen Today

We will also be singing a Tenebrae service on Wednesday evening, April 4, for which we will be singing Vos Omnes, Christus Factus Est and Jeremiah's Lamentations. I have also included a list of the Holy Week schedule for St. John’s, which also be found on their website.

Easter Schedule 2007
Holy Week & Easter schedule April 2 – April 8, 2007
{Please note changes in time from the regular schedule
at bottom of page}
Mon. Apr. 2: Confessions after 9:00 am Mass
Tues. Apr. 3: Confessions after 9:00 am Mass
Wed. April 4 : 8:00 pm--Tenebrae Service
(Confessions after Tenebrae)
Thur., April 5 : 7:30 pm--Holy Thursday --
Mass of the Lord’s Supper
Thur. April 5: 11:50 pm--Compline (Night Prayer)
(No Confessions on Thursday)
Fri., April 6: 12:00 Noon-- Divine Mercy Chaplet,
Terce, Stations of the Cross, & Dramatis Personae
Fri., April 6: 3:00 pm---Solemn Good Friday Services
Fri. Apr. 6: 7:00 - 8:00 pm Confessions
Sat., April 7: 8:30 am--Morning Prayer
Sat., Apr. 7 : 9:00 - 9:30 am-- Confessions
Sat., Apr. 7 : 12:00 Noon --Blessing of Easter Food
Sat., Apr. 7: ( NO 5:00 pm Mass)
Sat., Apr. 7: 8:30 pm – Easter Vigil
Sun., Apr. 8: Easter Sunday: Masses at: 7:15* am,
9:00 am, 10:30 am and 12:15* Noon (*please note 2
Mass times are not regular Mass times)

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

Music at St. John's in McLean for Palm Sunday

Music is the silence between the notes.
~ Claude Debussy

Here is the upcoming schedule of music we are singing at St. John’s on Palm Sunday:

Palm Sunday (cycle C) April 1, 2007
Prelude - Hosanna Filio David
Blessing of Palm Branches - Pueri Hebreaorum
Processional - Gloria, Laus, et Honor Tibi Sit
Opening - All Glory, Laud, and Honor
Gradual - Christus Factus Est – J. M. Haydn
Offertory - Adoramus Te Christe – T. Dubois
Offertorium / Solo: Vidit Suum Dulcem … – G. Pergolesi
Communion - Were You There / Communio/Duet: Inflammatus Et Accensus – G. Pergolesi
Recessional - Silence

Hope you can join us for a little foretaste of Heaven! ;-)

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

A River of Fado

Music is the river that runs through my veins…
~ Mikaela D’Deigh

Friday night was absolutely incredible. A few friends and I went to hear Mariza at the Kennedy Center. For those who are not yet devotees of this incredible music, Mariza is one of Portugal’s top fadistas and after hearing her perform Friday night, I understand why.

Dulce Pontes’ renditions of fado were my first introduction to this hauntingly sad style of music. And she is still my favorite. But Mariza’s style is every bit as mesmerizing ~ it calls out to something deep in your soul and practically rips it out and you are completely entregado, given over to it.

She sang for a full an hour and a half, we gave her four standing ovations and her encore lasted longer than any encore I have ever heard, but I wanted her to keep singing. One of the pieces she sang as an encore was Summertime and I have never heard it sung with such passion and beauty. And it was the perfect song to for her sing: her interpretation of it illustrated the similarity between fado and American blues. I only wish I could have a recording of her performance of it. It was breath-taking.

So now you are kicking yourself and wishing you had been there Friday night. Not to worry! Dulce Pontes will be performing in May in Maryland. Maybe we will see each other there ~ I will be the one listening and not breathing until the last note dies away. ;-)

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

How Can I Keep from Singing?

It's the way we sing that makes 'em dream.
~ Ed Kowalczyk

As some of my readers know, I sing in a church choir made up primarily of professional singers. Sometimes I forget to tell people what our upcoming “playlist” is and some of you have expressed an interest in knowing ahead of time so that you can plan to be with us at Saint John’s in McLean. A few weeks ago, we sang Arvo Pärt’s Beatitudes and I did not let people know in time to arrange their schedules. So I am going to begin posting our upcoming pieces and dates.

Last week, we sang the Missa de Angelis, which in itself is a beautiful and traditional Mass setting. In addition, however, we sang Tallis’ O Nata Lux and Gluck’s De Profundis ~ which has become a personal favorite of mine. It is dark and melancholic and breath-taking. Those deep notes really do something to the soul!

March 11, 2007 – 12 Noon
Missa ~ Claudio Monteverdi
Motets ~ Exaudi Deus, O. di Lasso and Miserere Dei, A. Lotti

I am so blessed and humbled to be working with such gifted people. Thank you, Dah-vid! :-)

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

American Inklings: March 9 @ 7:00pm

The beautiful part of writing is that you don't have to get it right the first time, unlike, say, a brain surgeon.
~ Robert Cromier

The American Inklings will meet again this coming Friday, March 9, 2007 at 7:00 pm at La Madeleine next to Reston Towne Center.

At our last meeting, we did not assign any new exercises. Rather, we were to continue developing our stories and / or any other works in progress. I confess I have not even looked at much less touched my story. For shame! I did however, write and submit two new poems to Dappled Things, which were rejected. :-( Hence, my contribution to Friday’s meeting will be more asking how to become a better writer and editor of my own work.

I already know the answer. For one, I need to write more. Even if it is nonsense or a stream of consciousness on a page. Just write. And pretty soon, something real and substantial will appear. Or perhaps not. But it will clear the cobwebs and get the brain warmed up. The second thing I need to do more of is read. For now matter how fertile my imagination, it will not remain so without a good tilling by other, much better writers. My best poems or stories have come out of being inspired by other writers, other stories. There is nothing like a great phrase or quote that pierces your soul and opens it up to whole new way of thinking or feeling that you can then turn into a new poem or the beginnings of a new story.

I look forward to seeing everyone Friday night and being inspired.

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

Following the Story Line

A writer writes not because he is educated but because he is driven by the need to communicate. Behind the need to communicate is the need to share. Behind the need to share is the need to be understood. The writer wants to be understood much more than he wants to be respected or praised or even loved. And that perhaps, is what makes him different from others.
~ Leo Rosten

My friends never cease to amaze me. They are wells of hidden talents and gifts. And I never feel so blessed as when I am present to have a taste of that talent. The American Inklings are just such a group of friends. Our last meeting was an incredible success. We gathered around my dining room table and read our scribblings out loud to each other. And such scribblings! I think we all knew that each had something to say, creative fires that were burning deep inside and dying to warm an audience.

But I do not think that any of us knew just how talented we each are ~ ourselves included. As you may recall, our writing exercise from our last meeting was to finish a story, with lines contributed by all of us. Three of the members worked on the project and came up with three incredibly different and incredibly interesting storylines:

Ann S. created a fantasy/science fiction world for her main character. She originally considered setting the story in Scotland and later chose Virginia as the starting point, ending in Iceland. Her story involves a mysterious disappearance, a crusty old sailor and a Golden Whale.

Jackie D. envisioned a psychological thriller in which the main character questions reality and his or her own sanity. Was the fall from the cliffs real? A dream? A nightmare? What is reality?

Yours truly, as you know, placed the main characters in Scotland and the story involves a nameless horror, murder, intrigue and hidden identities, history and of course, romance. I had considered “writing what I know” and setting it in Virginia, but stayed with Scotland instead – the complete opposite of Ann. :-)

None of us completed the exercise ~ that is, we did not put an ending to the story. We continued it. And we each found ourselves captivated by our characters and the story they wanted to tell us. It was not simply enough to just stick an ending on ~ we had to follow the story line. And to have such diverse paths from one beginning was fascinating and exciting to hear.

Now the next assignment is to continue to follow the stories and see where they take us. Writer and reader alike cannot wait to hear what happens next!

Our next meeting is Friday, March 9, 2007. The place is yet to be determined, but it will be outside the Beltway, somewhere near Reston. If you would like to join us, please feel free to email me at mdeigh (at) gmail (dot) com.

And remember ~ keep writing!

Oremus pro invicem,

~ Mikaela

American Inks: The Project Continues

The test of literature is, I suppose, whether we ourselves live more intensely for the reading of it. ~ Elizabeth Drew

I am now 810 words into my version of the Amer. Inks new writing project. I know, it does not sound like many words after two and half days of being snowed in. What can I say? In Virginia, one inch of snow, layered with a nice thin sheet of ice constitutes getting "snowed in." Add to this fact that my car did a little icy pirouette on the way home and gave my nerves quite a shaking and I have since been severely under the weather with a bout of either the flu or a nasty little cold with an attitude.

From late Sunday evening until late Monday evening, I have plied this little cold with honey, tea and whisky - not necessarily in that order and a single malt of course. ;-D I don't know about my cold, but it has been a tremendous boon to me! I stayed abed most of Monday and almost all of today. I did not feel as weak as I did yesterday - hence 810 words later, I feel my time in the sick room has been justified.

This short story that we were supposed to simply finish has turned into a prologue and a chapter. What in the world has happened here?! My characters have happened, that's what. They practically shouted at me in a Highland accent: "this tale cannot be told in short story, lass! It needs to be a whole bloody book!" Ah yes - my characters are Scots. At least some of them. Big surprise there if you know me. If there's one accent that makes me weak in the knees besides Gothic, it would have to be Scottish. ;-)

If these characters continue to carry on like this, I may have to come to the meeting with yet another unfinished story. I don't have a choice ~ the tale cannot be told in a short story!

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

American Inklings in McLean

The task of a writer consists of being able to make something out of an idea.
~ Thomas Mann

The first meeting of the American Inklings in the new year took place last night at Corkies ~ a cozy place where I am a regular Sunday brunch-er. The charm and atmosphere immediately said that the A. Inklings would be at home. And though they closed at nine, they graciously allowed us to stay until after ten.

We began by discussing creativity: what it means to be creative; whether there are boundaries to creativity and what creativity is not. Then we engaged in a writing exercise. We each took a piece of paper and wrote down one sentence, then passed it to the person to our right and they wrote a second sentence. We continued passing the pieces of paper around until Sullivan said stop.

Out of four beginning sentences, three of the unfolding stories were quite melodramatic and silly. I only claim responsibility for two sentences that took a story from a horror to a farce. But I must say the end result was humorous. :-)

The fourth story we all agreed we were intrigued by. It had the best flow; it made sense and we all wanted to know what happened next. How was it going to end? And there in lies our next writing exercise: to take that beginning and write an ending. And it does not have to be long nor does it have to be short. We put no limits on word length. Just write an ending and however long it takes you to get there, so be it. I can’t wait to read what the others will come up with. And I’m looking forward to seeing what story the characters are going to be telling me to write down!

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

The Healing Power of Music

Writing a song doesn't heal things. Even if the song comes up with a solution, it's still only a theory. Going out and living my lyrics is a whole other deal. That takes courage.
~ Alanis Morissette

While music may not heal things per se, it certainly prepares the way for healing to take place. Especially for those of us not gifted with the ability to express our emotions and thoughts in ordinary conversation. Music allows one to be vulnerable yet still hidden. I can write a song about how I feel about someone ~ whether it be love, frustration or sadness ~ without being exposed. And composing a song helps jump start the healing process in me. If nothing else, it brings the emotion to light.

But Alanis is right. It cannot stop there. It is not true healing if it does. True healing takes place when things change in one's life. As a composer, I cannot be whole unless I take the lyrics of some of my songs and live them out. And that is frightening.

A couple of months ago, I composed a song about standing on the edge of love and being frightened at the prospect of rejection and the prospect of reciprecation. And I realized in the course of writing it, that in the end, what do I have to lose by jumping off and letting myself fall in love again?

More recently, I began composing a song about forgiveness and how difficult it is to forgive fully when you have been hurt by someone. It morphed into a love song along the same lines, with the conclusion being that I know I should be vulnerable and let myself feel and fall in love.

So have I jumped off the cliff yet? Have I allowed myself to finish the healing process and step out into the light and open my heart up? Of course not! :-P But at least I recognize that I need to and for the first time in over two years, I am ready to take the next step. And what better time to make a fresh start then then new year?

Here's to another year of growth, both spiritual and emotional. I pray that 2007 will be such a year for you as well.

In vulnerability,

Mikaela

Tree Trimming Dinner for Six

I feel a recipe is only a theme, which an intelligent cook can play each time with a variation.

~ Madam Benoit

Between an increased workload at my 9 to 5 job, organizing an average of a party a month and the onset of preparing for Christmas both at my house and the family home, my posting ability has been effectively derailed for the past couple of months.

Speaking of parties and Christmas, I spent this past Saturday evening at my parents' with a small group of friends. Sullivan had never been down to visit so he came early to help me cut down a tree. At first, I thought that we might be able to get away with cutting one down on our property, but they were either giants or dwarfs. So we ended up driving to a tree farm and getting an 8 foot by 5 foot white pine. Poor Sullivan saw the same stretch of Caroline County several times as yours truly tried to remember exactly where Shepherd’s Hill Tree Farm was! I think he shaved off some time in Purgatory. ;-)

Lynda and Forrest had just pulled in when we got back to the house, and the gentlemen worked on putting the tree in the stand while the ladies came inside to begin dinner. Tika and Yeshua came a little later and brought a walnut bundt cake ~ heavenly with coffee. It was a nice change of pace to make dinner for 6 instead of the 50 plus parties I normally host.

Dinner was maple sausage and garlic stuffed mushrooms, Idaho and sweet potato blend and pork chops in apple cream.

I have served this style of pork before: once as tenderloin in Calvados sauce. I couldn’t find the recipe and I didn’t have Calvados this time around. As some of my regular readers know, the lack of ingredients does not phase me in the least. In fact, I consider it a challenge. Epicurous has the original recipe I used. I highly recommend it, especially if you want to impress your friends’ palates. Here is my stripped down version. Amounts are approximate ~ I usually just eyeball it. Enjoy!

½ stick of butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
Pinch of flour
Pinch of salt and pepper
10 boneless pork chops
3 to 4 cloves of fresh garlic
1 to 2 cups of apple juice
1 to 2 cups of heavy whipping cream
Garnish: Granny Smith apple slices (optional)

Melt the butter and olive oil in a large frying pan. Mix the flour, salt and pepper together and dredge the pork chops in the mixture. Chop garlic and set aside. Cook pork chops until lightly browned on each side. Take out and set aside.

Add chopped garlic to the leftover butter and olive oil. Add more butter as necessary. Add apple juice and whipping cream and stir until almost boiling. Lower the flame and put the pork shops back in the pan until sauce is thick and bubbly. Garnish with apple slices.

Self Titled

We need magic, and bliss, and power, myth, and celebration and religion in our lives, and music is a good way to encapsulate a lot of it.
~ Jerry Garcia

Last night I got together with some friends to jam, compose and rehearse music for my CD project: Michael P. on guitar, Timothy D. on hammered dulcimer and Cindi K. on cello. Sullivan came over as well to act as sound man and recorded our musical shenanigans.

I had already played with all three of them individually. But none of them had played with each other before. I was praying they would “play nice” in more ways than one! Music isn’t just about hitting the right notes and getting the rhythm.

Music is about balance. Give and take. It’s about relationships and vulnerability. It’s about sharing your inner self. And you cannot be comfortable doing that without trust, acceptance, humour and a little repartee.

We had all of the above in abundance last night. Michael and Cindi played dueling strings and yes, fans, it was all caught in audio files and some of it will end up on the final product. When talented musicians duel, it’s sure to be a great show ~ both musically and conversationally!

Then Michael and Timothy decided to have a jam, with Cindi and I jumping in at different times. Three chords. That’s it. And the Muse whispered in my ear. I grabbed my notebook and began writing. Two verses and a chorus later, I asked them to play those chords again. This time I added two extra chords and some layering and a new song was born.

I love jam sessions!!! :-)

The song that received the most work and the most attention from the group was the Fado-esque piece. Part of our getting together was to get a feel for things and see which instruments sounded better on which songs and there were a couple where we didn’t use all of them. For this one, the interplay between all of us was just incredible. It’s a passionate piece and the cello is a passionate instrument, so it was a given. But the guitar and dulcimer really added texture and layers that made the song just blossom.

Not bad for our first (almost) full rehearsal. I cannot wait to hear what adding viola and violin will do.

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

Requiescat in Pace

To suffer woes which Hope thinks infinite;
To forgive wrongs darker than death or night;
To defy power which seems omnipotent;
To love, and bear; to hope till Hope creates
From its own wreck the thing it contemplates
~ Percy Bysshe Shelley

My father remembers being liberated from a Nazi labor camp by the American Allies on Easter Sunday. My mother remembers being in class when the news that JFK had been assassinated filtered through her high school. I remember watching the Challenger explode when I was in middle school. And I remember hearing that a plane had run into the World Trade Center five years ago and thinking ~ what a terrible accident. And then hearing that a second one had struck and thinking ~ this is no accident, this is a terrorist attack.

I watched in horror as Tower Two collapsed. I sat glued to the television that night, watching every news show. In shock that yet another plane had slammed into the Pentagon no more than a five minute drive from my house and a fourth’s destructive path had been thwarted by its doomed but brave passengers. My feelings of grief for the families, fear for the souls of those not ready to go, shock at the audacity and the sheer magnitude of what had happened, anger at the terrorists and the religion that spawned them, and pride in the bravery, tenacity and will power of the troops, the president and my fellow Americans who banded together in grief and found hope amidst the pain and destruction.

Five years later, the memory that day is still as surreal as the day itself. Some say that true forgiveness lies in forgetting the wound. And I would agree that that is something to strive for in our personal relationships. But a nation cannot afford to forget. It is responsible for the safety of her citizens. And to forget ~ to pretend that it did not happen or to try to assign blame as to who knew what and when is to gift wrap victory to the enemy. And to disrespect the memory of those who lost their lives that day.

Remember…grieve…forgive. But remain vigilant.

Requiescat in pace.

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

Drop of Rain, Drop of Ink

The gathering in of the clouds with the last rush and dying breath of the wind, and then the regular dripping of twigs and leaves the country over, the impression of inward comfort…

~ Henry David Thoreau

It has been raining since Friday. Some days, a torrential downpour, its intensity scrubbing everything and everyone clean. Others, a playful light rain that places random, baby kisses on your face and then dances away. I like both kinds ~ the kettle drum and the violin. The sound of it as it pounds at the roof is thrilling. The peaceful tap-tap as it caresses the windows is soothing.

I was sitting at my desk, with the window open, the rain playing a sweet melody on the leaves of the oaks and maples, when I became aware of it. A light breeze that smelled like a memory: wet leaves, corn husks and hay. And pumpkins. The sensation was gone in an instant, but my senses were piqued. I had smelled autumn.

Each of the four seasons has a special place in my heart and my senses. Spring is hopeful, bringing color and new life to the spirit and to the ground; Summer is open, her laid back weather perfect for sweet tea and evenings on the porch with family and friends; but Autumn and Winter. Ah ~ they are extra special. Autumn is magical and full of promise and Winter is intimate and giving and mysterious.

I tucked my feet up under me and wrapped a light shawl around my shoulders as a delightful shiver ran through me. Definitely autumn in the air. It being Virginia, the weather is a bit of a tease and I am sure we will see an Indian Summer into October. For now, I would enjoy the moment, this first breath of fall. I took a sip of my tea, its warm, milky sweetness a foretaste of my favorite season.

In the past I have said that anywhere is a good place to write or compose or dream. But I think I said that when I was under the influence of a city summer. Oh no, my dears. Anywhere is a good place to write or dream, but autumn in the rain is the best place.

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

A Garden Farewell

My tongue is smiling.
~ Abigail Trillin

And it has good reason to. I picked the last cucumbers and tomatoes from our garden yesterday and they were worth the wait. The cucumber was crisp and fresh and tasted like a breezy summer day. The tomato was amazing. None of the other tomatoes from this year tasted as incredible fresh, sweet and pungent as this one.

Nothing says summer like a tomato and cheese sandwich and it will be sad for my taste buds to say goodbye to that summer treat as the tomato season winds down. I am not even going to suggest going to the produce section for those horrid hydroponic, genetically altered monsters that pass as tomatoes during the winter. Back away slowly.

They are an insult to summer’s memory.

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

Building Wings on the Way Down

If we listened to our intellect, we'd never have a love affair. We'd never have a friendship. We'd never go into business, because we'd be too cynical. Well, that's nonsense. You've got to jump off cliffs all the time and build your wings on the way down.
~ Annie Dillard

Today I wrote the lyrics for a song ~ I cannot wait to get my hands on the keyboard and compose the music ~ I can hear it in my head already. No title yet, but it deals with risk and vulnerability and how when one does not have all the answers and cannot see what lies ahead, it is frightening….but also freeing. Because if you believe that everything happens for a reason and that everything you experience is just another chance to grow, then you have nothing to lose.

Brave words indeed. I am a great talker of ideals and theories. But once reality is looking into my eyes, all words fail and I find I cannot hold its gaze. Whatever the reason (personality, temperament, environment, family of origin), matters of the heart are especially difficult to express. Even my poetry does not always speak the whole truth.

But not because I am afraid of the truth or believe in half-truths. Truth is messy. It is passionate, intense, earthy. It is personal, vulnerable, fragile. Soft and strong. It will walk through fire and rock your world. It is also, in the words of a friend, extremely enticing, enchanting, irresistible, and undeniable! Yet the merest breath of rejection at best and apathy at worst will crush its heart and bolt the door against you.

This song speaks to that fear ~ the fear of being swept away, of being frightened at losing control, of not knowing what lies down the road. And what is worse, not knowing what you want.

But after all is said and done ~ that is okay.

There’s an old cliché that says that if you name your fear, you will then have power over it. This song asks that even if the path before you ends up being not the one you want or need, what is there to lose in taking it? You will never know until you go down it.

Indeed. The question now is….will the gate at the beginning of that path swing open? Or remain closed.

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

The Tempest: Calm After the Storm

Why not say it? I'm bursting out of my cocoon. It was all too nice in the past - it never knocked anyone out. But last year... my first opening night at the Met - I looked out and heard all that cheering... for me... And I loved it.
~ Benita Valente

It was not quite my opening night, but it was definitely an experience to remember! As you can see, I had become so enmeshed in my own cocoon of creativity, that I did not have time to post anything of interest or substance. Now that The Tempest has passed – quite literally – hopefully life will get back to normal – whatever that means.

The girls of PALS did a fantastic job of interpreting Dorothy’s vision of Shakespeare. Especially the young girl who played Prospero. She delivered every line with passion and precision and she stayed in character throughout the play. Unfortunately, her name escapes me at the moment.

As for the chorus – they did superb job with the score. They ended up only using four songs: Storm Music, Full Fathom Five, Caliban’s Song and Ariel’s Song (Where the Bee Buzzes)*. The choral director, Anne Marie, decided at the last minute to not have me play the piano with the girls, since I had not been practicing with them the last five weeks – something I had suggested a few weeks ago and which I wholeheartedly endorsed. This was a good idea since they had not thought to make sure a piano - the main instrument - was available for the musical. Ahhh - the joys of working with a non-profit!

Not having to perform myself also freed me to play the snide and snippy composer who listens for mistakes and embellishments of their music during a performance. However, this being my first time composing an entire score and they being junior and senior high school students, I was inclined to be lenient. ;-)

Persephone played the guitar for Caliban’s Song and Ariel’s Song; Storm Music was played on CD (to my utter horror – it was only a rough demo) and Full Fathom Five* was done a capella.

Sullivan attended the performance, as well as a few friends and all declared it a hit. Most gratifying. However, I do not think I will be attempting another such undertaking anytime soon.

Unless it is another Gothic operetta.

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

*All music (c) 2006 Silver Scroll Productions

Adventures in Adversity: Part II

We should come home from adventures, and perils, and discoveries every day with new experience and character
~ Henry David Thoreau

I did not think that my recent adverse adventures in Old Towne in June could be topped. However, the Fourth of July turned out to be a day for adventures, perils and discoveries that make my adventures on June 10 look tame. Beth and the Boy were in town for the Fourth of July weekend and after a long Monday afternoon visiting wineries in and around Middleburg, and evening spent enjoying the rehearsal of A Capitol Fourth on the west lawn of the Capitol, we lounged around Tuesday morning and just enjoyed the fine art of being.

As you know, Sullivan, Ann and I worked on the Tempest and other music for most of the afternoon. In between composing, I would periodically visit the kitchen and check on the fried chicken and potatoes I was making for our simple Fourth of July dinner.

I was actually disappointed when five o’clock rolled around and I had to get ready for the party we were all going to. It was one of the those typical DC area Catholic parties where you don’t necessarily know either the hosts or the guests but you get invited by at least one person that you do know. The big draw for this particular party was that there was going to be live music (and you know me, baby: it’s all about the music!) and then everyone was going to head to Key Bridge to watch the fireworks.

I had the bright idea that we would take a bus that stopped near our neighborhood to get to the party since parking would be non-existent. This is what we did and it was a great party and I actually did know almost everyone there (big shocker there!). After a glorious fireworks show, we went back to the house for about an hour and half of great live music played by four talented gentlemen: the Rickster (my favorite drummer), Dave (bass guitar), Tim (the host - guitar/vocals) and Brian (guitar/vocals). I know Rick and Dave, had only met Tim once and didn’t know Brian. Brian blew everyone there away ~ some great covers from each decade (60s to the 90s).

After the last song, Sullivan, Jeanette, Di, Beth and the Boy and me headed down to the metro to catch the bus back to my house. One piece of advice, never have a melancholic/phlegmatic plan out transportation. At least not this one. Music, cooking and entertaining – I’m the Queen. Anything else – fuhgitabouit! My previous adventure with transportation should have been a warning.

There was no bus back to the house. Metro was running on the weekend schedule. Joy and rapture. No problem. Trains were still running. We would take the train to the closest station and catch a bus from there.

We got out of the station and after about 10 minutes realized that the bus I thought would be there was not running any longer either. We approached a couple of Metro personnel ~ one of which was the station manager who said he didn’t know anything. Wonderful. This should have been the first clue that things could only go from bad to worse. We should have called a cab right then. But we decided to trust the other Metro guy.

We walked across the street to wait for another bus, which did show up. I asked the driver if he went to the two cross streets near us. He said yes, so we all climbed aboard. This was at 12:40 am. After dropping us off at the end of the line and saying that he was not going to the cross streets we needed, he went off duty. Welcome to DC and government run transportation. And yes, Sullivan, I concede that DC Metro should run more like the NYC subway system – at least in terms of running times.

Two cabs, $34 and over an hour later, we crawled out of two cabs and said bleary-eyed goodbyes to Jeanette, Sullivan and the Boy. Of course it would be the two melancholic-phlegmatic night owls that were the only ones who had to get up early for work the next day.

Definitely a Fourth of July to remember.

Happy Birthday, America! :-)

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

Tempest Update

Music is a means of rapid transportation.
~ John Cage

Tuesday morning I didn’t feel like doing anything much except composing and playing the piano. Sullivan was heading over so we could work on the Tempest project and our friend Ann, whom we had also roped in help us compose. We had previously composed 4 songs and sent them along to Dorothy and the choral director: Full Fathom Five, Caliban’s Song, Three Men of Sin and Storm Music.*

The day before, Beth had pretended to play a one-fingered concerto ~ three notes of which triggered something in the Muse. I asked her play them again and then came up with bones of a song, the melody of which I could not remember the very next day! (One would think I would have learned by now to write everything down! Argh!)

Anyway, while waiting for Sullivan to arrive, I tried to remember the melody of the new song. It was very frustrating, but I finally had to let it go and re-write it. By the time I had resigned myself to re-writing it, Sullivan had come in and we then spent a good hour on this new composition, which for lack of a better descriptive title, we’re calling The Wall.* It’s a song that asks whether one is open to love. Everyone, including yours truly was surprised at how hopeful and relatively major it sounded. :-)

Ann had not made it in yet, so Sullivan left to go to the store. While he was gone, she arrived and we promptly wrote two more songs for the Tempest: The Marriage Blessing* and Ariel’s Song (Where the Bee Buzzes).* Both those pieces had been giving all three of us conniptions. Dorothy wanted the marriage piece written in a southern gospel style and Ariel’s Song written in a Broadway show tune style (think June is Bustin’ Out All Over). None of us had ever written anything in either style.

The Muse was working over time however, and we were able to compose both (although Broadway turned into Big Band). We sang them both over and over to make sure we liked them and once Sullivan came back, we recorded both of them. Ann then played a song she had written a couple of years ago, which we all thought would be perfect as the underscoring for Prospero’s Banishment* and we were done for the day.

7 songs down and about 4 to go! Woo hoo!

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

*© 2006 Silver Scroll Productions. All Rights Reserved.

Dappled Poetry

An author who speaks about his own books is almost as bad as a mother who talks about her own children.
~ Benjamin Disraeli

That being said, I am pleased as punch to announce that Dappled Things has once again deemed some of my poetry fit for the public eye. I was also pleasantly surprised to see that the poem they published, “Meditation” was also quoted in their email announcement of the latest issue, which is filled with the talent of many young writers.

Enjoy!

Oremus pro invicem,

Mikaela

Sweet Tea on the Porch

The best kind of friend is the kind you can sit on a porch swing with, never say a word, then walk away feeling like it was the best conversation that you ever had.
~ Unknown

There is nothing quite so comforting and relaxing as a wide front porch with a few good friends scattered here and there in rocking chairs and on banisters. When that porch is facing the Potomac River and it is a glorious June afternoon, even better.

Yesterday was just such an occasion. The friends were a group from my adopted parish and the porch belonged to a priest friend. After he said Mass for us (ad orientem no less!), the gentlemen fired up the grill and we ate burgers and avocado salad (heavenly!) while Father regaled us with tales of rolling deacons, good ol’ boy golfers and the like (if he had not been accepted by the sem I am sure he would have made his mark in Vegas as a stand up). ;-)

As odd as it may seem for a die hard Southerner such as myself, I grew up without a breezy front porch. It is more a stoop or a portico then an honest to goodness sittin’ and rockin’ Southerner front porch. Being thus deprived has not tainted me too much. I have set up 6 course dinners in the orchard, picnicked on the patio and served tea under the tall, matronly maples.

A couple of visits ago, Mom had mentioned wanting to add an honest to goodness porch on the front of the house. At the time, the atheistic in me said no – that is not going to go with the façade of the house (Federal, although we traced its history back to the early 1900’s). But after yesterday, I long for a front porch on which to sip a tall glass of sweet tea, with a fan in one hand and the current favorite cookbook in the other. Now I wonder if there is some way of making that wish a reality without ruining the clean lines of the existing façade.

Until then, I will have to content myself with sitting with friends anywhere and everywhere we find a comfortable and inviting spot. And in the end, that is what a porch is for ~ a place for creating memories, sharing old ones and sipping sweet tea within the warm embrace of friendship and a warm Southern night.

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

Unanswered Questions

I roamed the countryside searching for answers to things I did not understand.

~Leonardo da Vinci

…..and by the end of my sojourn, I had written a new song. In minor key (of course) and about forgetting the ones who love you the most and the need for forgiveness. At any speed, life enables us to just fly by, sometimes not connecting with those we love for perhaps days or weeks at a time.

For those of us who have a seemingly insurmountable difficulty in expressing the deep, passionate feelings we harbor for loved ones in the depths of our soul, this disconnect happens all too often. I think of friends and loved ones all the time but that rarely becomes translated to words ~ either written or spoken. If I am very blessed, it does flow out into lyrics and melody, but even then, can be shaded in metaphor, the depths remaining unplumbed.

How much of this is the result of the overwhelming weight of living life day to day? How much is the result of the heart’s reluctance to open itself up to being misunderstood at best or ridiculed at worst? It is very easy to say that a life lived in fear is a life half-lived. That it is better to open oneself up and risk it all for one taste of heaven then to live closed and never taste the rain….or the sun. But is the pain really worth it?

This new song provides no answers. Only asks more questions. And begs forgiveness.

Oremus pro invicem,
Miakela

Adventures in Adversity

Never shall I forget the time I spent with you.
Please continue to be my friend, as you will always find me yours.
~ Ludwig Van Beethoven

The test of a true friendship is adversity. And if that friend who rides through adversity with you can also turn that ride into an adventure, then surely his friendship is true.

My dear friend Sinjin was in town this past weekend for a mutual friend’s ordination. It had been almost a year since I saw him last and our correspondence has been at best sporadic and at worst non-existent. This is not too surprising considering that we are both very busy and happen to live two states apart. But we were thicker than tea leaves in a Royal Doulton tea cup in our undergrad days. So we were ecstatic that we would have at least a few hours here and there to go over old memories and make new ones.

We decided to leave the ordination reception fairly early and since we had about five hours to kill until the dinner reception that night, we went out for a somewhat more substantial lunch. I do not cater those receptions; ergo food is not made for Cox’s Army, but rather for their pet birds!

After driving around Arlington for a few blocks, we settled on Tara Thai on Fairfax Drive. If you have not been there, go. The décor is a tad bright and strange but the food is unbelievable. At one point, Sinjin pointed to the pendant lights, made to look like tiny jellyfish, saying that he first thought they were extremely dusty!

After a wonderful lunch (it was surprising we were able to eat anything we were laughing so much!), we headed to Old Towne Alexandria to kill time. We got quite a few stares as Sinjin was wearing his cassock. Too bad he didn’t have his biretta with him! Or even better, his cappello romano! :-)

We sat on the marina and continued to talk about our college escapades, absent college friends and his thoughts on Rome. We laughed quietly at PDAing couples who would glance over at him right after engaging in some very wet romantic clutches. In unison, we sighed, rolled our eyes and wondered aloud who they were trying to convince, us or themselves? People watching is such a hoot! Honestly, folks, put that mess away! ;-)

Realizing that it was almost time to be at the dinner reception, we walked quickly back to the car. And this is when our real adventure began. The dear Ukaristmobile would not start. Not after Sinjin blessed it. Nor after he cursed it. Nor after I prayed desperately to St. Joseph. Sinjin and I turned to stare at each other in dismay. This was not good.

After a few phone calls, Di and Scotti, two of my housemates, came to our rescue. First, we tried hooking the car up to automotive CPR. This did not work. Not even after running Di's engine for over thirty minutes. Several gentlemen came by and took a look under the hood, but to no avail. Scotti kindly called AAA for a tow and then we waited. And waited. And waited some more.

At this point I was on the verge of tears and a migraine. The inner workings of cars are beyond the ken of this damsal and I believe it is one of the many responsibilities that are best left to the stronger sex. On top of this feeling, I felt terrible that Sinjin was missing the reception. He however, proved his friendship by turning to me and saying, “Well, I am not terribly upset to be stuck here ~ at least it gives us more time to spend together, albeit not in the way we had planned!”

All in all, it was a glorious evening to be marooned in Old Towne ~ the weather was on its best behavior. The four of us took turns babysitting the car ~ Sinjin and I walked to Starbucks (have you tried the Blackberry Green Tea Frappacino? Decadent!) and Di and Scotti went to Ben and Jerry’s. With the car doors open to take advantage of a sweet June breeze off the Potomac and the CD player blasting opera, I said a prayer of thanksgiving for gift of friends ~ especially steadfast and true ones! They turn adversity into adventure. :-)

Oremus pro invicem,
Mikaela

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