Picture this: laughter, gaiety, pleasant company, delicious dinner on the floor, Nerf darts flying through the air, giant piles of bean bag-esque dealies to sit on—a generally lovely night all around. Queue temporary anoxic nightmare. Queue emergency room. Queue nothing. Somewhere a doctor at Edwards Hospital retreats to his/her office and admires his/her own face in a solid gold plate before delicately eating a decadent truffle off it. At least that’s how I picture it.

Alright, so you tell me where the money went.

I am having an evening with my darling male escort at the home of a few of his friends about two months back. His friend is cooking us a superb dinner (which we will then eat, charmingly, on the floor. Having grown up in a home that was additionally a daycare in the basement during my formative years, I have an affinity for floor-eating, so I am in my element). The food being prepared far outweighs my abilities in the kitchen, and so I volunteer triumphantly to take the little Pillsbury crescent rolls out of the tube and arrange them on the pan. The ones I do look like multi-layered and variously sized sticks. Huh. Not sure how I pulled that off, but at least it does not affect the taste. We eat, all is right with the world.

After about an hour and a half eyeing their cat, whose name is Tribute (as I’m told, he’s not the greatest cat in the world), my cat allergies begin to overtake my fragile little body. Massive asthma attack (oh yes—I am asthmatic too. My mother did not breed genetically superior progeny). No uses of my inhaler (17 puffs in about a half hour will give you the shakes, child) will take it down. I inform Darling Male Escort, who since dinner has been engaged in a lovely Nerf dart gun fight with others, that I’m just a touch out of stuff like oxygen and seem to be getting worse by even the minute. I am trying not to panic; I feel like possibly Pavarotti has popped a squat on my chest. Knowing that Pavarotti died recently, I can be reasonably certain that it’s an asthma issue and I need to go home. I pop a Benadryl that the lady of the house is wonderful to provide me with, and we are off.

Alright, strike that “home” business. We have now left the house 5 minutes ago, and I cannot catch a breath. I am panicked and coughing, and I’m concerned I’m going to lose oxygen and pass out. To the ER, Jeeves! Step lively, step lively.

So Darling Male Escort quickly gets me to an ER, where they promptly put the Swine Flu prevention mask over my mouth—my mouth which already cannot get a breath. Thanks, guys. One of those cruel to be kind things, I wager. Hack, hack, hack, cough, cough, wheeeeeze, as a mask sucks itself to my face like gauzy kidnapping gag tape.

I am then wheeled to an ER room and given a gown and a bed. I am already feeling a little better, breathing better, certain I won’t be passing out at least. Darling Male Escort and I wait for a doctor or a nurse or something. Someone to get my information. Someone to give me a nebulizer treatment, or even just half-assedly pretend to read my blood pressure. We wait for an hour.

An hour when you are unable to breathe due to environmental causes will accomplish one of two things—1.) you will die, or 2.) you will entirely recover. I’ll break the tension here: I did not die.

No, in an hour, I got entirely better. Apparently the Benadryl kicked in, and that was enough to stave off the allergy attack, which effectively released the stranglehold on my asthma issues. Let me tell you, gentle reader, one begins to feel a little silly lying pitifully on an ER table in a gown when the doctor comes in to find you a rather lovely shade of flesh-colored, no longer wheezing or coughing, and you tell him “Hey, um, so about that breathing. All better. Uh, thanks for all your negligence; how did you know it would be just the ticket? Amazing.” You feel silly because it’s actually the truth.

Ah well. I collect my humiliation up to use at a later date, reconstruct my previous outfit onto my newly oxygen-occupied body, returning my hour-long hospital gown to the bed, and Darling Male Escort and I ease on down, ease on down the road back to his place so’s I can sleep it off. And as I drift off to sleep in a happy haze of Tylenol PM and Xanax, a cynical thought occurs to me—I sat in an ER for an hour with no treatment whatsoever. I bet this is going to cost lots of money.

I had no idea. I received the bill this week in the mail. I got charged $22. I do not think I received $22 of service. I mean, I rented a gown that doesn’t close in back and a bed without a blanket from the hospital for an hour, but I’d probably only consider that to be worth about $10. And no tip! Bastards never checked up on me. Hey MD, you got other tables to serve here, guy.

But $22 was nothing compared to what my insurance company got billed. $850! Let me repeat that—they had to cover $850!! How do you people sleep at night? Aside from, clearly, on 1200 thread count Vera Wang Egyptian cotton sheets. With people fanning you and feeding you grapes. Goodness. For a bed, for an hour. Whores charge less, and they at least make sure you leave the bed smiling.

Jesus. I hope that ER bed is rent-to-own, or someone might have been screwed here…

Recondita armonia di bellezze diverse!
È bruna Floria, l’ardente amante mia,
e te, beltade ignota
cinta di chiome bionde!
Tu azzurro hai l’occhio
Tosca ha l’occhio nero!
L’arte nel suo mistero
le diverse bellezze insiem confonde:
ma nel ritrar costei
il mio solo pensiero,
ah! il mio sol pensier sei tu!
Tosca, sei tu!

Translation:
What subtle harmony

What subtle harmony of different beauties!
Floria, my passionate lover is a brunette
and you, unknown beauty,
are framed by fair hair
you have blue eyes
Tosca has dark eyes
the mysterious art
mixes the different beauties together:
but while I paint her
I only think
Ah! I only think of you
Tosca, of you!

A.S. Azi e ziua prietenului meu Papuc, așa că…la mulți ani Papuc!
Am descoperit „antidotul” pentru crime, jafuri și chestii de genul infracțiuni. Cum să nu devină copiii de azi criminalii de mâine dacă sunt crescuți în spiritul Guță? Cum să nu-și dorească și ei să fie boss-i, bahări, baștani… cum să nu-și dorească să moară dușmanii și să aibă femei de femei??? Cum??
Hao să facem un sondaj: câti punk-eri, rock-eri, house-eri…emo până la urma ați văzut să comita crime, jafuri sau violuri? Ăștia-n cel mai rău caz se sinucid, ceea ce nu e neapărat rău (spun eu devenind puțin meschin).
Așa că voi, cei ce-mi citiți gândurile, gânduri cretine dealtfel, oferiți cultura muzicală copiilor voștri, de acolo pornește tot, și ajută la educația lor. Nu le trebuie neaparat Pavarotti sau Felicia Filip, dar trebuie să știe cine-i Savoy, Pitiș, Pasarea colibri, Genesis, Rolling Stones, etc fiindcă aș putea continua mult…
Dacă simțiți o revoltă-n rândurile mele, ei bine, aveți dreptate!

Estava ouvindo pela enésima vez a músicalidade unânime do cantor lírico Luciano Pavarotti na música Nessun Dorma ( Ninguém Durma). Ao cantar Luciano se transfigura e a música parece sair de sua alma…

Com vocês:

Nessun Dorma

The movement of the world can be quite unforeseen. It is a random resource that we might as well enjoy.

I choose to enjoy by writing about it. And this is what therubikpen is all about.

As an introduction to my own world, I present you my 26th of October inspirational resource.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TOfC9LfR3PI&feature=related

Modena – Italia, 13 septembrie 1994! Ăştia-s artişti!

La donna è mobile, qual piuma al vento,
muta d’accento, e di pensiero.
Sempre un amabile, leggiandro viso,
in pianto o in riso, è menzognero.
La donna è mobile, qual piuma al vento,
muta d’accento, e di pensier,
e di pensier, e di pensier.

È sempre misero, chi a lei s’affida,
chi le confida, mal cauto il core!
Pur mai non sentesi felice appieno
chi su quel seno non liba amore!
La donna è mobile, qual piuma al vento,
muta d’accento e di pensier,
e di pensier, e di pensier!

Francesco Maria Piave. Rigoletto,

Y es que es tan poco habitual encontrar tanta sabiduría y tantas verdades juntas en apenas unas frases…

________________________________________________________

[El bardo de la Ciudadela recomienda] → Eso es así, compadre…

Tema: Luciano Pavarotti – La donna è mobile (Rigoletto, de Giuseppe Verdi -música- y Francesco Maria Piave -libreto-)

My brother and I have promised that when we next go to a U2 concert, we are going together.  We regard U2 as a spiritual experience, one that must be shared with someone who feels likewise.  U2 not only expresses the things we all think and feel – and want other people to feel – but they use their superpowers for good.   First, with their music – for example, the always-makes-me-cry Miss Sarajevo, sung with Pavarotti:

They also use their celebrity status as a humanitarian tool.  Bono cofounded ONE, an organization dedicated to fighting poverty and disease, especially in Africa.   In their latest tour, “360°” they encouraged people to join ONE during the concert via text message, and even had Astronaut Frank de Winne patched through to the concert to plesdge from the International Space Station to join ONE (who better than an astronaut to see us as one world?).  Desmond Tutu gave the following address:

Today is International Day for the Eradication of Poverty.  Sponsored by the UN, this year’s theme is “Children and Families Speak Out Against Poverty.”  This theme was chosen in celebration of the 20^th anniversary of the Convention on the Rights of the Child.  It’s the first legally binding document to give full human rights to children, and the most strongly endorsed document in human history.  Every nation in the UN has ratified the convention, except two.  One is Somalia, which has no recognized government, and therefore cannot ratify it.  The other is the United States of America.

http://one.org/us/

“Everything (Horowitz) did had his own individual and unmistakable stamp, which is not only desirable, but is an absolute must for an artist.”

This interview had its beginnings in an email that I received last month from Lola Astanova, as one of many who registered at her website, lolaastanova.com.  The email introduced a video of Lola playing Chopin’s magnificent étude Op. 25 No. 12, together with a short message from Lola about supporting the arts during difficult economic times.  I was crazy about her Chopin, and shared her conviction about the arts, and wrote back to tell her so.

A few days later I received another email, thanking me for introducing Lola to readers of this blog through her videos of Rachmaninoff’s second sonata, and pointing out that the year of her birth as given in my comments (1981) made her a little older than she really is.  I did a little more research and found a different source that listed her year of birth as 1982, and updated my blog accordingly.  I also wrote back to suggest an interview with Lola that would address this and other questions that I thought would be of interest to her growing number of fans and admirers.  I was happily surprised to receive – just two days later – an invitation to submit my questions via email for Lola to answer in writing.

What follows are my questions and Lola’s responses.  My thanks to Natalie, Lola’s personal assistant, for facilitating this interview, and especially to Lola herself, not only for her candid, illuminating answers, but for sharing so generously of her work and talent through her many YouTube videos.  Lola, you have opened wide the treasure chest of great music for many who might otherwise never have known the riches that lie within.

All right, let’s begin!

DERRICK:  I apologize for having misstated the year of your birth on my blog.  In my desire to make you better known to my readers, I had to choose among unreliable sources for some information.  Would you like to tell us your correct birthday?

LOLA:  I never intended to hide my correct date of birth…I think it was, probably, accidentally left out from my original online bio.  But by now it’s become such a huge deal that I feel like having some fun with it and keeping everyone guessing. (Smiles)

DERRICK:  Would you mind filling in a few more biographical details?  I know that you were born in Tashkent.  Would you like to share any information about your family and early life?  Did your musical education begin at home?

LOLA:  Sure.  My mother is a music teacher.  We had an old upright at home so she used to play it from time to time, and I used to stare at her and think: “It would be so nice to play that thing!”  But it was actually my dad who convinced her to get me started with piano lessons.  He really wanted me to learn “Fur Elise” and a few other tunes to play for him after work.  I’m sure he never imagined that music would become my career.

DERRICK:  Do you remember how you were introduced to classical music, and the first piece of classical music that you were excited about?

LOLA:   I guess the first piece that I was consciously truly excited about learning was Chopin’s “Fantasie Impromptu”.  I was about ten years old, but I had heard and loved that piece from the early childhood.  The score looked very busy with lots of notes so in my mind playing it well somehow symbolized being a good pianist.

DERRICK:  We know that you began to study piano at the age of six with Professor Tamara Popovich.  When and where was your first solo recital?  Do you remember the details of your program?

LOLA:  My first recital was in my school.  I think I was about seven and played most of the pieces from Schumann’s album for the young Op. 68.

DERRICK:  When and where was your first performance with orchestra?  What piece did you play?

LOLA:  It was Bach’s Concerto No. 5 in F Minor.  I was 8 years old and played in the big and beautiful concert hall called “Bakhor” in Tashkent.   I had seen Ashkenazy play on that stage only a few months earlier so being on that same stage for the first time as a soloist made me very nervous.

DERRICK:  What is your personal situation?  Are you married or single?  If single, do you hope to marry someday, or are you in an exclusive, long-term relationship with your Steinway?

LOLA:   I am not married and don’t see it in my immediate future.  My relationship with my Steinway, albeit a passionate one, is strictly professional. (Smiles)  It would have been more than a little sad otherwise.  I think it’s important to have other interests besides piano, and I, certainly, do.

DERRICK:  Would you care to comment on the passing last month of Alicia de Larrocha?  Did you ever meet her, or hear her play in person?  Have you been influenced at all by Miss de Larrocha?

LOLA:  I never had a chance to hear her in concert, alas.  She was one of the very few women who had a stellar career as a concert pianist and left a wonderful legacy.  That is always inspiring and empowering to me personally.  But, I can’t say that my own pianistic style or musical preferences were influenced by her in any way.

DERRICK:  You have described what an emotional experience it was for you to play on Vladimir Horowitz’ piano.  How would you describe Horowitz’ influence on you?

LOLA:   His influence was colossal.  I think he redefined what it means to be a pianist.  Everything he did had his own individual and unmistakable stamp, which is not only desirable, but is an absolute must for an artist.  I can’t say that I like everything that he did musically, in fact, I find some of his interpretations perfectly awful, but that doesn’t matter.  He always played his Chopin, his Mozart, and his Rachmaninoff.  He had a distinct musical personality and a style like no other, and that is what I find most valuable.

Now, obviously, Horowitz’s presence is still very much felt in the piano world and, as a result, many pianists try to imitate him and critics always itch to dub someone “the new Horowitz”.  I must say that I find both rather amusing.  There may be truly astonishing pianists that share certain qualities or attributes with Horowitz, but there will never be another Horowitz, just like there will never be another Pavarotti.  So there is no point in trying.  Actually, a little anecdote comes to mind: Gershwin once asked Ravel to teach him composition, to which Ravel supposedly responded: “Why would you want to be second rate Ravel when you can be first rate Gershwin?”  I second Ravel’s opinion, and though comparisons to the immortals are flattering, I’d never want to be “the new” anybody but myself.

DERRICK:  Have you ever played any of his transcriptions?

LOLA:  No, not in public.

DERRICK:  Who among the pianists of today do you especially admire?

LOLA:  YouTube’s Nora the Cat!  She has a special touch. (Laughs)  But if you want a serious answer…well, “admire” is a very special word for me.  Talent and skills alone do not impress me at this point as I’ve been fortunate to be among talented and capable musicians all my life.  What does impress me, however, are the people behind the talents – their human qualities, their aspirations and their integrity.  I know those don’t sound like musical terms, but they are no less important in music than in life.  And from that standpoint, so far I’ve seen more disappointments than inspirations in the classical field.  You know, Rachmaninoff almost never gave interviews on this subject because as he put it: “I was brought up never to lie…and I cannot tell the truth.”  I think I understand what he meant and I’m going to leave it at that.

DERRICK:  How would you describe the current state of music composition?  Do you see anyone writing music today whom you would place on the same level as the great composers of the past?  If yes, who?  If not, why not?

LOLA:  I presume you are asking about classical composition and if that’s the case – I am not aware of any composer today that I would compare with the greats of the past.  You see, to me a great composer is synonymous with original harmonic language.  In other words, creating something that sounds good and does not sound like somebody else. And in that sense, every composer today faces two huge challenges:  Number one – a lot has already been done in terms of harmony so it is really not easy to create something that is both valuable and original.  Number two – developing and refining one’s own harmonic language and style is a very slow and painstaking process which seems in total opposition of the super fast pace of the modern life.  And don’t forget that in addition to the tremendous technical skills and knowledge, composition requires a certain creative environment or atmosphere that simply does not exist anymore in the same way as it did in the days of Mozart or Chopin.

Of course, there is an entire group of composers that do the so-called “modern classical music”.  Those are the people who chose to experiment with atonal concepts, but I refuse to call that music.  I imagine that the original creators of that style genuinely searched for something new or “modern” and that a lot of their harsh sounds stemmed from the painful history of the 20^th century.  But I also think that many of the subsequent works have simply been an attempt to shock the audience and generate publicity by inviting the press to endless “world premiers” of some god-awful pieces.  In my opinion the empty concert halls are in part the result of the industry’s long infatuation with those atonal concepts.

DERRICK:  How has the internet changed life for the concert artist today?  More specifically, how has YouTube, with its extraordinary library of music and musicians, changed the concert artist’s life today?

LOLA:  I think it’s fair to say that the Internet has changed not only the lives of individual artists, but the entire entertainment and media landscapes.  It’s even a bit overwhelming to think of all the opportunities that the Internet tools have opened for the arts, education, entertainment, and cultural exchange.  You are right, of course, about YouTube being a singular library of material, but there is much more to it than that.  It’s an amazing way to communicate with the audience directly, without intermediaries and outside the sometimes intimidating atmosphere of a concert hall.  It allows for an entirely different relationship between the artist and the listener and for a much closer, much more personal experience.

Another “YouTube revelation” actually relates to the “Holy Grail” of the classical music industry – the young audience.  For years classical presenters have been trying to lure the younger crowd into concert halls and evidently without much success.  Yet, over half of my online viewers are people in their teens, twenties and thirties.  I receive daily emails from teenagers who say that they are inspired, and who subscribe to my channel along with Taylor Swift’s or Kanye’s.  These are guys and girls of very diverse backgrounds, but they all seem to have a sort of innate appreciation for this music.  And many grasp the significance of the arts much more than the classical establishment knows.  For example, my video about the arts in this economy has been passionately supported by countless young YouTubers, including such Internet stars as Ryan Higa and Iman Crosson, while traditional classical organizations have remained completely indifferent if not hostile.

DERRICK:  Have the advantages of the internet and YouTube, such as increased exposure, made up for the fact that there is less need now for people to buy records?

LOLA:  From the artistic and audience interaction standpoint – absolutely.  From the strictly commercial standpoint – not yet, but classical music is, probably, less affected by that than pop because classical record sales have been essentially non-existent for years.

DERRICK:  What do you think of Rachmaninoff’s Second Symphony having been arranged as a concerto for piano and orchestra?  Have you seen the score?

LOLA:  I haven’t seen the score.  I’d have to see it before I can tell you what I think.

DERRICK:  You mentioned that you hoped to play in Seattle next year.  Are you anticipating a solo recital, or an appearance with orchestra?  Has anything been confirmed yet?

LOLA:  I have a confirmed private event performance in Washington next year, but I don’t believe I’ve been invited by any classical presenters in Seattle.  Once I’m invited, sure, I’d love to come and perform.

DERRICK:  If I were to select a few pieces that I would most like to hear you play, I would choose Scriabin’s Etude Op. 42, No. 5, Prokofiev’s 6^th and 8^th sonatas, and the sonata by Samuel Barber.  Is there any hope for me?

LOLA:  Yes, let’s start with Scriabin’s Etude.  I haven’t played it in a long time so thanks for reminding me.

DERRICK:  Lola, thank you for taking time from your busy schedule to participate in this interview.

I’ve just had a brilliant conversation in the street, with Orville.

He’s a bit older than me. He told me the one lesson he  has learnt is: “Don’t ever put yourself down.”

I think this is brilliant advice.

I have found this much more, as I am growing older.

I just don’t care so much what other people think about me.

Yes, you may not agree with me.

Yes, you may not undertstand the path I have taken.

But as I grow older, I realise life is not a popularity contest.

It’s about being authentic.

Sid Vicious. The Sex Pistols. My Way. Pure brilliance. Amazing energy. Click on image to view/hear.

A friend got  me back into Sid Vicious the other night. I was aware of him in my youth but had no idea of his brilliance until my mate pointed it out.

He was 22 years old when he died (from a heroin overdose). So everything he achieved, as an artist, he achieved by the age of 22.

My friend contests he had 4 very brilliant tracks.

It’s funny, ‘cos I always liked “Old blue eyes:”

Frank Sinatra. My Way. On YouTube. Click on image to hear/view.♥

But I was shocked to discover I find Sid Vicious much more energetic.

My guy likes Robbie William’ s version.

Robbie Williams. My Way. Live at the Albert Hall. On YouTube. Click on image to view.

As I’m also a Pavarotti fan, I include the following, for your consideratation…

Luciano Pavarotti & Frank Sinatra. My way. Quite awesome really. On YouTube. Click on image to view/hear.

Anyway, point being, don’t put yourself down. Do it your way.

♥Ali.

aria şi opera aleasa NU au  legătură cu postarea de mai jos

(cred că se înţelege uşor)

Luciano Pavarotti y Bryan Adams.  Mezcla aparentemente explosiva en el sentido peyorativo de la expresión y, sin embargo, LA BOMBA, en el mejor de ellos. El limpísimo timbre del tenor con la desgarrada voz de mi ídolo musical de la tardo-adolescencia (ahora no vale decir que sigo en ella, ¿ok?). Me saca una sonrisa ver cómo disfruta Pavarotti comprobando que Bryan Adams llega perfectamente a todas las notas, y cómo este último lo hace  con humildad y cierto apuro, dándose cuenta de que al lado del italiano no es nada.

Esta versión de la canción popular de Módena “O sole mio” pertenece a uno de los conciertos solidarios que solía realizar el tenor italiano para recaudar fondos.  ¡Qué gran pena! ¡Qué grandísima pena no haber tenido la oportunidad de asistir a uno de esos “Pavarotti and friends”! que reunieron a los mejores. Si tuviera que pedir cuatro deseos (ay, chicos, es que tres no me salen a cuenta) al genio de la música, serían acudir a un concierto de

1. Los Beatles

2. Mecano

3. Pavarotti and Friends

4. Queen

Y como me parece a mí que voy por mal camino por haber nacido tarde (o porque ellos se han muerto/separado demasiado pronto), me tengo que conformar con la compra de discos o, desde hace ya unos años, como en el caso de este ‘O sole mio’, con compartir música online. Y digo esto porque recuerdo que el tema lo descargué en el año 2000 del mítico Napster, el pionero en esto del P2P y, por tanto, el que pagó el pato por las primeras denuncias y tuvo que empezar a cobrar.

No pasa nada, siempre nos quedará la mula.

Synn and I have been watching a lot of Sesame Street lately on the computer with Tristan, who, by the way, stares transfixed by the singing and dancing.

We’ve even caught him humming along to some of the tunes, although it sounds like a tone deaf someone humming at this point in time and nothing like the Pavarotti that we thought we had. Sigh.

It does seem like he’s keen on being a Birdketeer, though:

The grin on his face when we flap his arms is hilarious.

Oh, and my current favourite:

Gotta love chickens that know how to chill by the beach.

Who knew Sesame Street could be so cool.  ^^

Primul cantec invatat la orele de spaniola si pe care nu l-am uitat nici pana azi CIELITO LINDO.

Mariachi me accompania

Pavarotti and friends. Desi se cam chinuie prietenul Enrique Iglesias aici. Dar la ce sunt buni prietenii?

Right then, after all my confusion last week it turns out it’s still Tuesday deadlines for Thursday Photoshops. This week our theme is Chelsea’s new Italian manager Carlo Ancelotti. A strange cross looks wise between Jose Mourinho and Guus Hiddink (couldn’t work out how to make that into an idea), Chelsea will hope that he is the one to lead them back to the top of the pile.

You might remember this Cornetto ad from the 80s/90s which completed murdered an opera piece named O Sole Mio. I was going to change the words to “Just one scudetto, give it to me.” but then Carlo’s all about the Champions League. It’s Man Utd’s infinite injury time credit next week which should be good. In the mean time have some Fat Frank and ice cream – always a winning combination.

"Just one Cornetto, give it to me." Carlo and Frank realise they're going to have a good working relationship.

This week’s gallery here.

T.

Archive.

『オー・ソレ・ミオ』(ナポリ語:’O sole mio、私の太陽)は、イタリアのナポリ民謡。ギアヴァニ・カプロ作詞、エドゥアルド・ディ・カプア作曲。1898年作詞・作曲。
この動画では3大テノールの一人、パヴァロッティが歌っている。
世界中で翻訳され、様々な言語でも歌われるが、通常は原詩で歌われる。
（wikipediaより）

¡Que nadie duerma! ¡Que nadie duerma! Esto que podría parecer el eslogan de una fiesta non-stop es Nessun Dorma, una de las arias de Tourandot más famosas de la ópera. La han cantado miles de veces, en películas, anuncios, programas de televisión… Pero cada vez que la escuchas es como la primera. Es la historia de una princesa malvada que juega con sus pretendientes, hasta que es uno de ellos (el que canta la canción) quien le pone a la princesa en un aprieto.

Hoy que está el día llovioso y tontorrón… me apetece poner a la princesa contra las cuerdas y cantarle:

¡Disípate, oh noche!

¡Tramontad, estrellas! ¡Tramontad, estrellas!

¡Al alba venceré!

¡Venceré! ¡Venceré!

Listening to Luciano Pavarotti right now…he has the most amazing voice. I love it so much. God makes some pretty amazing things come out of people’s open mouths. (o: Sometimes I wish I could sing opera…but I wasn’t meant for that. My voice is much to contemporary. It goes all over the place. Anyway, if you have the time, pull up Pandora, then type in Pavarotti’s name. Your heart will sing with joy.

Making dinner right now…I’m kind of just making it as I go. Anyone like Potatoes ala Gratin? I do(o;
love…
ria

p.s. I am completely in love with Symphony #9 in E minor.