June 24, 2014

Note from Lucio:
dear Honora, Dahlan dear, dear David, thank you for your email. It's nice to do this work together. The time has stood still for a moment, and I can see you all together as we speak, work and walk together to the sunny streets of Budapest. We are really lucky that life has put us all to work together in such a creative way. I'm just the last to be here, and I think I have learned, just now, what it means to be creative. All thanks to you, a story really very beautiful, covered with words and verses perfect. I just closed my eyes and the music is coming from one, because everything is already in the history and in the words! now I'm so excited to hear the result of this work, and I hope that by this time there are many more adventures together. A hug with love, from this brave singing little swan! 
PS I'm dreaming, every night, the colors speak to me, they are still very concerned that their personality is represented in the music! Today Turquoise spoke to me with great severity ...

Thin film of rain at waking, the space under trees still dry. Good painting yesterday– the best painting, in terms of technique, I’ve ever done. Veered off to Jesse Israel’s to buy golden devil’s poker and a rust colored echinacia for the garden.

I have an odd, and not unpleasant, feeling of impending displacement, as though some relocation or adventure were about to happen, and that it will be well.

Did not audition for Coriolanus, remembering my resolve never again to work at that grubby sweatbox of an amphitheater. I’ve never liked confusion and like it less as time goes on. Did reread the play, and wonder–besides the obvious problem of many battle scenes– why it’s so little done. Read a Facebook entry by Mandy, I think, with a photo of her and Jayson and several others lounging abut in the grass at Montford. She remarked that the photo was from the time when they were so excited about the theater that they would come early and just wait around for things to get started. I felt envious. I don’t know that I never felt that, but I never found company to feel it with, and I hid my enthusiasm away.  My enthusiasms have, in general, been hidden between my heart and this page. This has kept me from public embarrassment, but also kept me, I would imagine, from enriched experiences. I did sit in the theater for Lincoln times when I was neither expected nor needed.

Interesting year-end evaluation from Merritt. He reads my student evaluations, though I do not. One asked of me “is it possible to know too much?” Another said I was a “seraphic” teacher. Another said my critiques of student work were ‘sensational.” He probably left out the nasty ones. Maybe, like a judge at the Olympics, he left out the very best ones as well.