The Creative Act

I have written in the past about the other woman in the life of Maria Callas, here are some additions,corrections…

She was young,pretty,and at 31 entered the White House.I give her the credit,she worked hard and well,and quickly became the most popular First Lady in American history.She gave her all,in  three years she achieved more than any other in four or eight.Her elegance,class, her love of the arts inspired her fellow Americans.She decorated and redecorated The White House and it became the Louvre of American history and a mini Palace for the First Family.

The press criticized her expensive tastes but the Americans loved her and made her their idol.They forgave her obsession with French designers, for the wore her Chanel suits and Givenchy gowns with such elegance and grace that nothing else matters.Though she asked for more privacy she loved being in the limelight,giving interviews and being photographed.Her role was only “to take care of the President and his children,I am his wife not his secretary, and if I bungle raising our children,I don’t think whatever else I do well matters very much”.

Her social events brought splendour,magic to the White House,inviting some of the most famous artists of the time to perform at her soirees,Pablo Casals,Margot Fonteyn and Nureyev, among others.She invited them all,” the best and the brightest “,  the American Nobel Laureates , the greatest talent in the arts,singers,dancers,actors ,the thinkers and the  rich and the famous, the most influential politicians,diplomats,and statesmen of the day, altogether.Glorious Mix and Match that sparkled her evenings.The Americans were dizzy watching her,she was smart, and she knew it.

Memories of Winter

Winter, tell me why it is,
You come at such a price?
Your snow is nice, and winds as well,
But rain’s no match for ice. › Continue reading

The years are rolling onward to the cadence of my love.
You drag my heart behind you as you roll down from above.
The songs we’d come to sing together played out in the end.
My troubled worries were the things that to you I did lend.

The clasp that held us bound together now has come undone.
I’m walking through the desert ‘neath the burning, rising sun,
While bearing on my shoulders all the burden of our past;
And finally I’ve come to find a river here, at last.

I fall upon my knees; the water mends my cracking throat.
I see you there above me, in the distance with a note.
I’d read it if I thought that it would lend me greater will,
But little would it aid me in my quest to climb this hill.
› Continue reading

A lucky shot of two kids just being.

One could consider the burger you’re eating
Muscular, Masticating, Molars
Forcing the bolus
with your throbbing tongue
down, down, in
Does the food slide down the sides
of your stomach?
Or does it splash
Like a just pinched turd
in your innard fluids?

Later on, we’ll be back at my place
and your fluids will
shake baby shake
as we fuck baby fuck
One could consider
mid-coitus
the burger you ate.

But it’s okay, this is just part 2. Part 1 was “The screwed up first attempt”.
This is what I do to reward myself for progress on my Thesis.
I apologize that this is more discussion of what I’m doing/have done than showing, but I made it a little more entertaining to watch.
I’m also doing this to get an idea of timing in videos/play. Apparently that’s crucial to making things interesting.
› Continue reading

I’ll sing to you a song of all I’ve come to know so far.
These things have kept me honest when my honesty is lost.
I’ll sing to you a song that speaks to those who live without
The will to fight the numbing cold and grip of winter’s frost.

There was a time when all I knew was drowned in liquid tar
That covered me in vagrant filth as I was crawling out
To meet the painful winter chill with hope that I could find
The answers to the questions that were hidden in my mind.

I was frozen on the the lifeless, empty, unforgiving streets
With little peace of mind to aid me in my coming quest;
But then a soldier righted me and set me on my way
To grasp a means to put the tremors in me to a rest.
› Continue reading

When I lost my voice I wanted to die.I would never be Violetta again,I suffered so much for her,I lost weight for her,I fought with opera managers,directors,conductors to wear those gorgeous fin de siecle gowns,to be a courtisane, la belle du bal… I shall never be, act,play,sing Violetta the way I wanted,the way Verdi wanted it.Every soprano dreams of the divine music of Verdi.Violetta was my first love,Norma my great one.I lost weight for Violetta and for Medea,to do justice to a courtisane and a Princess.With Norma I could get away with body fat.Now it’s all over.

A stone’s growth is inverse,
Time’s trials reverse its mass,
Revert
To smaller and smaller forms,
In this backwards trend there are no norms

The pebble all alone,
Might be the stone,
Inside your shoe,
Or a diamond in the earth,
Or a diamond set in an invulnerable alloy
To shave and mould the others of it’s kind. › Continue reading

I studied singing and acting because I wanted to become a singer,instead I became a media sensation for other reasons.I had many admirers and lovers and still have romances,I am very spoiled that way.All my life I met men who wanted to do it with la Callas,not the woman.What do they expect me to do,sing an aria while doing it ?.