Archive for December, 2010

December 31st, 2010

BEST LYRICS EVER FOR NEW YEARS EVE

 

FROSTED WINDOW

 

I thought about sharing what I’ve learned in 2010, but in truth my brain feels rather tired.  I thought of sharing my secret recipes for the best food on the planet, but I never write anything down. Just a few hints, however: include a dash of dark sesame oil in your homemade hummus, never name anything until it is done, and put garlic in nearly everything.

Salmon a la Christmas

 

Here’s a picture of the salmon we enjoyed at our Christmas feast – caught by F. Michael Miller (the famous bass player) and grilled by Gerald Ford (my famous husband)  He was as tasty as he looks.  The salmon, I mean.  I thought of writing about how people you’ve known for a long time, like this man Gerald Ford, can still surprise you.  Well, me, to be exact.  Who would have known that he would become a helpless addict to the English “Antique Road Show.” He hyperventilates through his nose with a high pitched wheeze the whole time he is watching, as he mutters things like, “Well, I say, what a bloody surprise!  Jolly good”, while heroically never moving more than two small muscles in his entire face.  

Instead, because of the afore mentioned condition of my brain I will share tidbits of what are surely my best song lyrics ever from my upcoming musical “THE BROTHERS GRIMM: A MUSICAL ADVENTURE.”  (Yes, it will be produced in May by GREAT Theatre at the historic Paramount Theatre in St. Cloud, and YES, I have a great deal of work to do on it yet, and that is why my brain is tired.) www.greattheatre.org/

Please, let the lyrics inspire you to greater things in 2011.  

New Sweater for Christmas!-

 

- Monsters’ Mamá: “ NO, HONEY.  YOU ARE MISTAKEN THE CURDS HAVE JUST TURNED SOUR.”

- Cinderella’s Stepsister: “ I AM LOATH TO TRY THE GLASS SLIPPER ON FOR I KNOW I’LL HAVE TO WHITTLE AN APPENDAGE DOWN WHILE MOTHER DEAR SCREAMS IN MY EAR;

- Cinderella’s Stepmom: MAKE IT FIT. CUT MORE HEEL OFF, DEAR.”

- Mean Old King:  ”I MUST HAVE YOU FLOGGED AND WHIPPED,THRASHED AND MASHED, SPLAYED AND FLAYED,

LAID IN A GRAVE.

YOU MUST DIE FOR YOUR TREACHERY.”

- Gretel: “I LOVE THE STARS.  I LOVE THE MOON. 

I LOVE HER CHANGING FACE.

I LOVE THE BROOK. 

I LOVE THE FISH SWIMMING IN ENDLESS GRACE,

BUT I KNOW NOTHING MUCH OF ROMANCE. 

I CAN SKIP AND RUN BUT CAN’T DANCE.

I’VE BAKED A WITCH AND FREED MY BROTHER, 

BUT I AM LONGING FOR ANOTHER.

GRETEL.  POOR GRETEL.  WHO IS SHE?  THAT’S ME. 

I’M GRETEL.  GIRL GRETEL.

I WANT TO BE A PRINCESS.  I WANT TO FALL IN LOVE.”

My brain feels suddenly energized, having lightened my load.  Have a blessed 2011!!!

Snow Heaps

Categorychildren's theatre, Creative process, Living Song Farm & Publishing, local foods, musical theatre, my works, songwriting & composing | CommentNo Comments »

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December 21st, 2010

TRAGIC LOSS OF FREDERIQUE


Frederique the Mouse had such high hopes, such big dreams for a little mousling.  I must say that I feel rather responsible for his death,  something that I am not at all emotionally prepared for.  I should have warned him about the hazards, but it’s too late now, isn’t it?  He stole two toothpicks which he obviously schemed to use for poles, but I must say I’m not in the habit of counting my toothpicks, so I really had no clue.  I mean, it’s all too absurd, isn’t it?   I had been rather cross with him lately as he’d been prone to sneaking into my dresser drawer and gnawing on some rather personal, dare I say intimate, items of mine.  But when a curse escaped my lips, well I didn’t mean it literally.  I suppose when he was squeaking out an immensely annoying high pitched song in the middle of the night I dismissed it as a rather weird dream, perhaps the effect of too much rhubarb sauce and créme brulée before bedtime.  But strangely, I can still hear that song in my head, kind of like Bruce Springstein on helium.  “Im going to ski beneathe the moon when fahrenheit is zero.  I’m going to ski beneathe the moon just as it eclipses.  I’m going to strap on razor blades ‘cause I’m a bad-assed mousey.  I’ll fly down the highest peak and screech my battle cry!  Ahh!  Ahh!  Ahh!  Screech my battle cry!”  In hindsight I should have thrown out the double edged razor blades long ago, instead of sticking them in the corner of my drawer.  This morning, after the horror of finding his tiny frozen body I located bits of paraphernalia down the slope.  I wish I could say he died with a smile on his rodential lips, but he just looked freaked out to me.  Frederique wasn’t a  Christian, but I said a prayer and created a tiny altar to honor him.  I reverently placed one of his “ski poles” and a rusty, bloody razor on an antique wooden mouse trap.  It looks nice. And, somehow, this picture makes me smile.

CategoryCreative process, Living Song Farm & Publishing, my works, poetry, Uncategorized | CommentNo Comments »

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December 10th, 2010

Advent, Deer & Cellists

Last week my trusty Toyota Echo whizzed me down Hwy. 94 east and south through snow flurries as books on CD kept me company.  I ended up in Wilmette, IL, to spend time with my friend Carol Saunders.  This was the third time we collaborated to present a special advent service, but this time it was for a church she founded just 11 weeks ago!  (www.AbundantLifeUnity.org)   The service serves to awaken an authentic spiritual connection to the Christmas season.  Besides the joy of presenting this service, in which I contribute original and ancient music, it was pure delight to be with Carol again.  She is a rare and inquisitive woman with whom I can converse for hours at a time. 

It was also great to return home to the farm, strap on snowshoes and transverse diamond studded fields.

A new poem…

PRAYER

He sits in the high window, 

leaning towards the stately oak 

that reaches into moonless sky.

Looks beyond the tree to buck and doe.  

Shaping words with hands, he speaks.

To them portrays the hunger of my uneasy soul.  

He pauses.  Listens for reply -

then incants again.

I sit further inside the room,

soothed by his voice and starlit air.

His hands connect to words as fish to river.

I do not see who he sees.

Do not trust what he trusts.

Do not know the things he knows.  

Perhaps he speaks to nothing but darkness,

a gentle but demented man.

I draw close to him and the open window.

There.  Next to the black form of the tree.

I see not them, but shadow cast.

His noble crown of antlers.  Her unadorned and smaller head.

Yet they themselves – invisible!

Shadow.  Only shadow.  Not in this realm.

Of course nothing can be proven.

It was only a dream,

and I know you were not there.

What I’ve seen lately:  With a rather uncomfortable sexual scene, the movie “Hilary and Jackie” may not be for everyone, but I was really glad I sat it out.  This movie is a fascinating glimpse into the life of Jacqueline du Pré, the amazingly talented cellist whose career and life were cut short by multiple sclerosis.  It is based on the book “A Genius in the Family” written by her sister Hilary. I realized in retrospect that I had listened to one of Jacqueline’s recordings that I checked out from the library.   (www.jacquelinedupre.net) Serendipitously, last night we watched “The Soloist”, also based on a true story of another cellist, a man who had attended Julliard, but because of schizophrenia ended up homeless in Los Angeles.  There, a newspaper reporter discovered his brilliant talent. The visual portrayal of the power in music is remarkable.  Played by Jamie Foxx and Robert Downey Jr.  (www.soloistmovie.com)

Categoryart reviews, Creative process, farm, Living Song Farm & Publishing, my works, poetry, songwriting & composing, spirituality & religion, Uncategorized | CommentNo Comments »

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