Open mouth, insert foot.

Oh yeah. I try to be good. Yesterday, though, I stepped into my mouth in a meteoric blaze of rudeness and insensitivity. You know... saying the wrong thing.

I am entering the final 2 weeks of co-directing a middle school musical. There are over 50 kids in the cast and scads of wonderful parents helping costume, paint, build and feed people. This is no small task. My co-director's health is fragile, and she has been absent these last 2 weeks of rehearsals. I think she's going to make it, but my nerves have been a little frayed, worrying about the show, worrying about rehearsals, worrying about her and worrying about my job next year. It's been a perfect storm of stress for me. We are not where we were last year at this time. Last year at this time, we looked at each other and could say, "Wow! We are in pretty good shape!" This year though we are just finally putting the show together. The choreography is still rough, blocking still needs tweaking and the singing is barely audible...there is a lot of work to be done. I will be working straight out for the next 14 days. It's what we do. It's what I enjoy. It's why our shows have a reputation of being pretty darn good for middle school.

So yesterday, as I was walking into a rehearsal that I was concerned about, I was stopped by a parent who told me that he needed to take his daughter out an hour and a half early, due to a homework group project that the kids had put off till the last minute. I am going to assume they put it off until the last minute, because it is due Monday. Here's where I get really annoyed. I am informed of this information, and ALWAYS asked, "Is that okay?"

What am I supposed to say? The reply that always races through my mind is this: "NO! This is NOT okay. Your child made a commitment- you knew this was the schedule WHEN YOU SIGNED THE PAPERS in January, Parent. Your child is leaving early to do a homework project that was most likely assigned 3 weeks ago, letting 50 other kids (who have committed to stay until the end of rehearsal today) down. So NO, I will NOT absolve you. I will not give you the positive (although socially expected) stroke of absolution. NOT okay."

What I said was, "It is what it is." I turned around and went into rehearsal, feeling pretty irritated and frankly tired of being asked that question over and over and over- "Is that okay?"

I guess this guy was the unlucky millionth customer, and as I turned heel and walked away, seems I was blazing in a spectacular arc across the sky into the heart of the Land of Asses. And I don't mean donkeys.

Later, I was passionately and dramatically chastised by this child' Mom. Although at the time, I didn't process it as such. I was still in the midst of rehearsal, and was distracted. It was confusing, and a little up-setting.

Then last night, after an all-day rehearsal I was sitting with my family, copying out bass parts for my husband who will be playing this show, and suddenly started feeling upset. My heart raced, my breathing came faster, as I realized just what my comment meant to this family. I finally processed the Mom's words to me. And it happened subconsciously- while I was working at a rather mindless and tedious task. When it was time for bed, I couldn't get to sleep for a long time.

So here I am. Trying to do the best I can under stressful conditions. I am trying to serve my community. I am human. I am getting less patient. I admit that. Sometimes I say the wrong things. I am sorry.

But still...It is what it is.

Meltable, bendable, beautiful glass

Ephemera

Ephemera (I looked this up) means little bits of paper or other things that are not supposed to last for more than a day. I think this word was first used during WWII to describe secret and fleeting things. The word Ephemera now brings new images to my mind and memory: of beautiful, soulful sound, of laughter and healing and of warmth in my spirit.
My singing group, Ephemera, performed at the Corning Museum of Glass last night. We are eleven women who create music in the moment- vocal improvisations. It is entirely challenging and wonderful for me to sing with these people. We have found a real sisterhood in our circle. Last night's gig was a first foray into singing out in public by ourselves. We sang in the hot glass room, we sang to a glass exhibit, we sang in the main welcome lobby, we sang in a Corning restaurant. It was almost all improv. We have forms that we use to organize and frame our pieces, but what we do is truly ephemeral. Once we create it, develop it and finish it, it's gone forever...unless it's recorded. Bruce, an artist who also happens to be from Trumansburg, created a display of words that describe the quality of glass. When the evening was over, and our friend Rob (who is a director at the museum) was making sure we had a glass of wine, we created a groove and sang Bruce's word wall. He video taped us a lot last night- and here are some moments from our performances. We were to function as the evening's surprise- to pop up and sing in unexpected places, unexpected things. It was a gas.