Friday, December 18, 2009

I'm a little tired


Disney Hall, Los Angeles (photo courtesy of hazelrigg.biz)


of posting carols and, frankly, a little tired of posting in general. I'm paralyzed, actually, because I just have so much to write I don't know when and where and how much. I'm tempted to number all the things I've been meaning to write about but sometimes this stream of consciousness thing works really well for me and actually begins to help me craft the stuff I write offline so here goes. I went, the other night, downtown to Los Angeles' Disney Hall, the most spectacular venue to hear music that you might ever go to, where inside it's like you're sailing on a giant, blonde, glowing ark or what my friend Sylvia says is like the inside of some animal, the skeleton of the animal all around you, and those things sort of go together, my being on the ark and her inside an animal, perhaps it's Noa's Ark? But we heard Handel's Messiah which, I realize, is really an Easter thing but somehow that Hallelujah chorus just has to be heard at Christmastime and we did wait, patiently for that chorus through all the tenors and the sopranos and the contralto who was a man with the highest, highest voice, so high that my girlfriends and I discussed the difference between a contralto and a castrato and really, that high male voice just doesn't appeal to me and makes me want to burst out laughing like I did with my sister sometimes at church when we were little girls and the set of the lady in front of us -- her hairdo just made us break into silent, shaking peals of laughter. Sticky beautiful spiky stars hung from the ceiling of Disney Hall, and we were floating on the sea of song with the sky and the stars above us and all those beautiful voices and I kept thinking how religious music just HAD to be inspired by some sort of Divine because how else could something so heavenly just emerge from a little man's head? Not to mention that strange and human wonder called a voice. Somewhere in Part II or Part II came the recitation of the phrase and we shall be changed. And it was accompanied all along with the most clear and almost heartbreaking trumpet, like notes suspended high in the air and you could almost see them dropping or perhaps even rising or wafting like smoke in the air. And we shall be changed grew louder and louder in my head until it was all I could think so in order to get through the rest of the concert, I pulled out my little writing book and noted
and we shall be changed. And what's important, somehow, is the word and and I don't really know why. Here it is:



16 comments:

  1. Beautiful. I too am tired but not of your carols or postings, I am just bone tired. We have decided to turn the guest room into a little library upstairs. Red bookcases with glass doors so when you come to visit you will sleep surrounded by books and perhaps in the middle of evening we will listen to the Messiah no matter what time of the year.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Elizabeth -- Such a beautiful post. I so get the paralysis..and am hoping that you do end up writing about those things you need to write about. And as for the "and", I agree. There is something about that one word that lends comfort and reassurance to me, reading it here. I have to think about it some more too.

    ReplyDelete
  3. love the messiah!!! and love this stream of consciousness. love it.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Vicariously, I sailed with you in the belly of that great beast while the sacred music filled the whole and all the spaces.
    "And" promises infinity. Don't you think?

    ReplyDelete
  5. I read this last night, when I was too tired to comment:), but not to enjoy the ride.

    Love reading your thoughts.

    ReplyDelete
  6. You wrote this so beautifully Elizabeth.

    I love it and the hall sounds beyond amazing.

    xoxoxo

    ReplyDelete
  7. Beautiful! We have our own Frank Gehry building in Seattle, the Experience Music Project (EMP). Some people hate t and some love it. I am in love with any and all people with talent. The composer, the performers, the architect, together it must have been an amazing experience. Thank you for sharing and adding your talent!

    ReplyDelete
  8. "And" implies continuity, and, in a sense, given the context, eternity, or eternal renewal. Which is what you and I, I supposed, crave. The 'and' is the part that, in some sense, promises the change that is to come.

    I think this stream of consciousness post is very nice--and you could turn it into something more formal with a little shaping.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Here from Ms Moon's. Love your writing. I got to the end and read that line and started weeping. Gosh....Wow.

    ReplyDelete
  10. It's incredible what a little conjuction can do. Perhaps the secret is in conjuctions, connections etc. Interesting comment from jeneva.

    ReplyDelete
  11. I love this posting...I felt as if I was sitting next to you. That hall is so energetic in its architecture, and with the sun on it (in the photo), it's dazzling. We walked by it when we went to the D. Chandler Pavilion to hear "Parsifal," but never got to go in.
    I agree with you about the Divine spark behind the creation of the "Messiah." I felt it last night, except for the couple who were WHISPERING through the second and third movements! It was a strain to keep returning to the spirit of Christ, in between bouts of fury at them for spoiling the experience! Irony.

    ReplyDelete
  12. Love the stream of consciousness here. I often have times where I'm struck by just one word or phrase. These situations make me think of Divine.

    ReplyDelete
  13. Beautiful! Have a very Merry Christmas.

    ReplyDelete
  14. I could only imagine how amazing that must have been. So glad you got to enjoy a night out!

    Hope you and your beautiful, beautiful, family have a wonderful Christmas!

    ReplyDelete
  15. Oop, this is from me, however, I'm sure Dallas sends his Christmas blessings too!

    ;)

    ReplyDelete

LinkWithin

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...