Life, Still

There have been many, many times in my life when I could wax poetic on the virtues of sitting down to a perfect cup of strong, dark tea (with milk and sugar) and buttery, crumbly shortbread, or a rich cup of coffee and a piece of homemade pie, or a nice glass of wine, some olives and good, crusty bread. There have been many, many times when I could sigh over such things and think "Life doesn't get any better than this, really". Simple pleasures.

Now does not seem to be one of those times. Yes, I am aware of spring everywhere and I note the gloriousness of buds and birds, of fluffy clouds, of sweet strawberries and warm patches of sun. I note them, I appreciate them, I thank the universe that I am here and part of it all. But somehow, it's not enough. Not at this time.

At this time, I want red (isn't that a Sammy Hagar song? "Red! I want red, there is no substitute for red!". I know Red is play on Broadway right now -- nominated for Tony awards).

At this time, I want courage -- the courage to paint my small life in bold colors and large brush-strokes, if I choose. The courage to bloom, to be messy, to be more myself than I've ever dared to be. I love Matisse's painting The Red Room (Harmony in Red) because it is both small and large at the same time -- the subject matter is just a woman arranging what looks like fruit on a tray -- a small, insignificant domestic task. But the way he paints this task makes it glorious and bold -- a little risky, a little sexy -- how can you look away?

What He Said

My poor blog. Like millions of other writers, poets, pundits, artists, mommies, entrepreneurs, fashionistas, hipsters, fanatics and lunatics out there, I started this blog with the best of intentions. I wanted to write, and I wanted to connect with others. I still do. But damn, if life doesn't get in the way sometimes. The past few weeks, it's been hard for me to justify spending a few hours a week working on this blog when I have no income. Ofcourse, spending hours cruising Craig's list and local want-ads and sending resumes out to faceless employers in cyberspace hasn't exactly proved fruitful, either. Getting work is always about who you know -- it always has been.

In fact, I did just land a short-term gig for the early part of the summer, through an old friend -- working wardrobe for a big-deal Opera company. I am grateful for the work, and really excited to be a small part of something so big and luscious and grand as the Opera (although frankly, my personal aesthetic is much more akin to small and tasty and scrappy). I hope the divas are nice.