Tuesday, August 9, 2011

variations on a theme by GF FERRE

well now, migraine a bit down (thank god) and was gonna cancel trip to uk but then i remembered i have a mctimoney chiropractor appt. and a meeting with miranda that i don't want to miss. ooh and glyndebourne. plus all sort of other stuff. why don't i want to go? let us consider this... emotion? travel (always makes me sick) (and not only that, gives me acute and horrendous back pain that puts me on such a low for days that i always think, i just cant put myself thru this again) the beautiful english home cooked meals (and desserts in particular) which are everywhere and sooooooo hard to resist ,is it any of these? i don't know. i don't think so. is the the endless appts. i have to keep? leaving my mum again after being with her is always very upsetting?... mmm... by the way the GF FERRE dress arrived and it is STUNNING, i shall wear it in sardinia with him (and his family) i am sure the model was wearing it the wrong way round... still... ooh, you know what, i wonder what the woman opposite my window looks like, i have never seen anything that represented her but a figure hanging out the washing or a corncrake type of voice screaming at her child... or the little girl she stole, who knows... god i must shower today...

i lead such a bohemian life here (apart from the fact that i always work, but i like it) ... oh for fuck's sake, why don't i want to go? perhaps when i do it i will want to? i just sort of, cant be bothered... but i think i must, cos i have things to do there... i am going to think about it right now... *&^%$£... no, i really don't want to go, strange.i wonder if this is my intuition telling me not to cos there is going to be a bomb on the plane or something... which i can mention, not being ON the plane... yet... i booked the flight when i was very down, but i am no longer in that dark place and just want to be left alone in italy in my lovely airy bright apartment. but then how will i get everything done from here? you can have a skype singing lesson, but probably not dentistry... hey, i did have a fantastic singing lesson on skype the other day actually... was frustrating when both the picture and the mic kept fucking up but it went well. i was knackered after! oh dear, reminding me, i am having such career swirlings. in my mind. do i want the opera lifestyle? i never did... it's why i left college partly. i never wanted to be 'just another' tosca or...just another anything cos i knew i had something very individual to give . i wanted to have my own identity, in other words make my own art, do my own thing, lead my own troup, do my own style of singing and shows, i never wanted to the be product of anything, schools schools and more schools. they could never have held me! i would have left at some point. mum says nothing is ever good enough for me. but i don't think that is true. my flat is good enough for me. he is good enough for me. she is good enough for me. dad is good enough for me. my talent is good enough for me. my friends are good enough for me.italy is good enough for me. my dress is good enough for me. my lindsay kemp badge is good enough for me... i always wanted to sing and dance and act, now i want to do all that basically on my own and also write the stuff... i want to give what i got. but i wanna enjoy it too.

so far opera is what i assumed it would be aged 19. its 5 hours on one syllable. endless criticism about how you don't do it like so n so....and you should. its sausage factory stuff. there are working opera singers in big theatres who can sing the notes but... appear to have no finer qualities.i have seen it in italy so much! makes me think what cannot be true, that just about anyone could be an opera singer if they can sing in tune and study day in day out and have a personality that people don't get jealous of or take exception to for ANY reason. perhaps indeed, there is no room these days for true individuality as i heard some old dear say at a dinner party about 3 years ago. she was an opera critic. she said its all about how thin and pretty you are,(gosh, and that was before the netrebko phenomenon happened) and who you are married to and how invisible you can be in rehearsal. people are insecure, i can see that much for sure. i see it every day. how balanced and healthy and tough are you? it seems to me that perhaps after all, they do want puppets. i am not, nor never will i be a puppet. nor do i want to be. but an opera singer?  i am one. ..but the very people who are not cut out for opera on a human quality level are perhaps the very ones that will do it the best. ergo IMPASSE.

i guess we are all different and golly there are some good singers out there. i have a few friends who are just supremely good. one of my friends had a whole other career before he went into singing and had this wonderful time recently where his agent told him that the met and the royal opera house both wanted him at the same time! go for it richard! you shine, boy! but, what breaks my heart is that two of my mates would rather be in musical theatre that opera, and one of them went into it (and is really excellent and singing at the top level) from quite a nice career as a rock guitarist, cos he wanted to be famous!... ugh! and on that shoddy slutty dirty note, who is famous, in the world of grand opera, anyhow...or any high art come to that? name 5 of the greatest dramatic sopranos since nillson. name 5 of the greatest ballerinas since sylvie guillem. exactly. i guess i will continue, but i would feel very uncomfortable in the medium of doing something great with people who might prefer 'les mis'. i feel uncomfortable even having said all this. it's been in my heart since i started out training. but now i know only anyone on the web can read it, i feel much safer. then it's ok. my closest group of admirers, hehe . i tell you what, here's how to fall out of love with any aria, learn how to sing it! after the 579th time of being told how badly you sing it, with a few rather offensive mimics of your sound and face, then you'll be sick at the mention of it right before you might have been going to play it somewhere glam. when what you wanted was to sing it... in a big theatre... when you didn't know it and just loved it! one of life's little ironies. i always wondered how opera singers remembered every note and time value and syllable...every page for hundreds of pages...well, now i know hahaha!

it will all come out in the wash... i am not sure what's going to happen but, i will pray and take a deep breath and trust it will arrange itself perfectly. god bless opera. strauss is simply ravishing. die. die. die to strauss. i fancy a bun. an iced bun. we used to call them sticky willys. talking of which, on gerard depardieu's passport his occupation is described as 'vineyard grower' cos he does consider that to be his job... his 93 movies have gotta be the most time consuming and lucrative side line (hobby) ever! i think mine should say 'philosopher and fuckwit' hey ho. i am making a second coffee. to go with my imagined sticky willy. lavazza is a wonder of the world. i shouldn't be a wiser but i should be a sadder man without it. i just realized most of my friends are italian and wont understand a word of this hahaha. now they will know how i felt 6 months ago. oh my god. nightmare.

 i tell you what, be alone in a country in which you don't speak the language, with a mentally challenged violent abusive sole female friend,in a cold, damp hole, with no bidet working, shower working, fridge working and mould appearing, no boyfriend who cared, in and out of hospital constantly, then get robbed three times of the small amount of money you did have saved away. try to look and sound good and keep it together emotionally thru that and you have my life from september til january.

did it stop me loving italy? absolutely not. but it taught me a sad lesson. not to trust ANYONE ever. money money money. the future maybe i might be regarded as jaded.i hope not,  i don't want that cos i am naive by nature and prefer to be naive and sweet natured than jaded and bitter... my dress is so nice... i shall wear it with black tights n shoes n orange lipstick and accessories cos its pink n orange silk with large tailored black zip at back... it's from my daddy. last time he was here he gave me some money and emailed me saying ' i was thinking perhaps you could put it towards hiring the van for your move to bologna' and i replied 'oh, i was thinking more along the lines of putting it towards a GF FERRE dress i want to get for christmas'... my GOD the woman right across from my large shuttered window is car crashingly unattractive, oh no!!! i just saw her for the first time. what a weird coincidence. read up. thank the lord i haven't seen her for the last 8 months because she would have quite put me off my pasta... i might have died of anorexia. did i mention i am neurotically tidy when i am not living like emin...?