Wassailing
A wonderful thing happened this weekend: I went to Toronto, had a wonderful time, and didn't have regrets about having moved. Considering I spent the good part of this past Fall feeling sorry for myself that I don't live there anymore, it feels really great to be excited to come home to the life and routine I have blamed all sorts of misery on. My new apartment, my new bike, my new choir, my new friends, new doormen, new grocery stores - I missed them all in our 48 hours apart, and the distance articulated their mine-ness. As much as I love the people and things about Toronto that kept me so attached to it, it's nice to know that I'm not missing anything. Life goes on, and I'm moving with it. I'm glad to feel this way.
These last few weeks have been a mayhem of music. My choir has had a heavy concert season, both performing our own concerts and singing gigs with other groups. Last Thursday night we sang a concert with the Montreal Symphony Orchestra. Ya know, I just can't tell you how blessed I felt. I could have spent that night eating Domino's delivery and watching Grey's Anatomy, which still would have been very nice, but instead I spent it singing the Snowflake dance from Nutcracker Suite tucked behind the cello section of one of the world's finest symphonies. I mean, really. That's just such a wonderful gift.
Tonight we had a rehearsal with the symphony's shiny new musical director, California-dreamboat Maestro Kent Nagano. That was also cool. It's all just so cool. Cuz every time I'd ever meet someone really successful in the theatre-world, my first thought would be to make connections. But with these choral equivalents of Dream-Gigs, it's not about what-doors-will-open, or what-desperate-networking-I-must-pull. It's about how effin' glorious that Handel sounds, how exquisitely the conductor pulls out the waves of violin, heaves of cello, sprinklings of horn and rich creamy trombone and tubas, into this musical fairy-cloud suspended in Notre Dame Basilica.
It's wonderful that in the 48 hours I spent in Toronto, I managed to meet up with my choir from the summer to go carolling around Yorkville. This seems to be the season for singing if there ever was one.
I'm not even gonna pretend to care about Channukah, folks. Christmas is the greatest thing that ever happened to the world. God bless us, every frikkin' one.
These last few weeks have been a mayhem of music. My choir has had a heavy concert season, both performing our own concerts and singing gigs with other groups. Last Thursday night we sang a concert with the Montreal Symphony Orchestra. Ya know, I just can't tell you how blessed I felt. I could have spent that night eating Domino's delivery and watching Grey's Anatomy, which still would have been very nice, but instead I spent it singing the Snowflake dance from Nutcracker Suite tucked behind the cello section of one of the world's finest symphonies. I mean, really. That's just such a wonderful gift.
Tonight we had a rehearsal with the symphony's shiny new musical director, California-dreamboat Maestro Kent Nagano. That was also cool. It's all just so cool. Cuz every time I'd ever meet someone really successful in the theatre-world, my first thought would be to make connections. But with these choral equivalents of Dream-Gigs, it's not about what-doors-will-open, or what-desperate-networking-I-must-pull. It's about how effin' glorious that Handel sounds, how exquisitely the conductor pulls out the waves of violin, heaves of cello, sprinklings of horn and rich creamy trombone and tubas, into this musical fairy-cloud suspended in Notre Dame Basilica.
It's wonderful that in the 48 hours I spent in Toronto, I managed to meet up with my choir from the summer to go carolling around Yorkville. This seems to be the season for singing if there ever was one.
I'm not even gonna pretend to care about Channukah, folks. Christmas is the greatest thing that ever happened to the world. God bless us, every frikkin' one.