Sacred Song

On today’s commute, my “Alphabet Stew” playlist served up some Michael Bublé(1), including the It’s Time album, which was what first brought him onto my radar.

As the tracks spooled out, one song played that I had simultaneously completely forgotten about while also having it indelibly etched in my memory.

How are both of those things possible? Come : join me below the jump and let me explain.

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The Victorious After

So yes, I made good use of Patriots’ Day Weekend to get my home office/goddess room in good order. I’ll toss in one glossy “After” shot right here.

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For the “Before,” you can just go back to my whiny post from Friday night. However much courage it took to post that picture 4 days ago, I do not have enough extra bravery lying around to post that embarrassing picture again….

So: rather a big change. I’m a little bit proud of myself for pulling it off.

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Our Lady in Flames

I did finish my “goddess room project” during today’s day off from work. And I was all stoked to post my before-and-after pics in a celebratory post tonight.

But that celebration will have to wait, because I am one among the throngs of humanity heart-broken over today’s catastrophic fire at Notre Dame de Paris.

I was just finishing up my cleaning when the news alert came through on my phone, and then I spent about 45 minutes glued to the livestream as the spire fell, as the flames continued to build and billow int he wind. Finally, I turned off my video feed, heartsick, and tried to distract myself with other things.

Now that I’m back some hours later, I am relieved to see the news that much of the stonework has survived, including the two emblematic stone towers and the interior vaulting of the cathedral. Still, I’m gutted to think about how much has been destroyed, and how this has occurred at the start of Holy Week for most Catholics and Protestants.

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Seeing Through New Specs

There’s a famous quote by Marcel Proust that (ostensibly) says:

The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.

Remembrance of Things Past has never been on my reading bucket list, so I don’t expect to ever learn whether the most accurate translation of this quote is the popular one or the alternate choice postulated by Craig Thompson, as linked above.(1)

It doesn’t really matter, I suppose. Especially since today’s linkage to that quote is very tenuous indeed: I’m pondering the status of my adjustment to those bifocals I mentioned a few months ago. And thinking about seeing through new eyeglasses reminded me of that quote about seeing through new eyes. That prompted me to look up the Proust quote, whereupon I discovered this slight controversy about its correct wording….which I couldn’t resist from sharing here, in my own pedantic way.

But yeah: I’m really just posting tonight about having new eyeglasses. Nothing more.

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Rocked Back On My Heels

One of the lucky “extra credit” details of my NYC trip was that I finally had the opportunity to see Kinky Boots on Broadway. This was extra lucky because the Broadway run closed on Sunday, just 3 days after my opportunity to see and enjoy the show.

SIDEBAR: I talked to one of the ushers before the show to find out what show was next coming into this particular theater. Turns out it’s the new Moulin Rouge musical, which I was lucky enough to see during last summer’s Boston try-out. I’m not sure when I’ll have a chance to see the final version of that show, but I’m definitely intrigued to have the chance—someday—to compare the Broadway and Boston versions. /SIDEBAR.(1)

But, back to Kinky Boots.

I have all kinds of contradictory feelings about the show.

Strike that: I have a series of contradictory feelings that were prompted by me watching the show. So tonight’s post will basically be focused on the show itself, and I will hope to organize and express my internal conflicts in a different writing exercise on some future date.

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On and On and On

Random point the first: I really think I’ve used this post title before, but I don’t have enough gas in the tank to go back and confirm. So apologies if this repetition causes any confusion down the line.

Random point the second: The course was challenging and rewarding in all the best ways, but I need more processing time before knowing what insights I want to share here.

So I’m onto a much lighter topic tonight: the most recent film I watched, on the train ride down to NYC from Boston.

And that exceptionally high brow piece of cinema? Mamma Mia: Here We Go Again.

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All the World’s a Stage

I’ve been seeing lots of friends posting about World Theatre Day today, which makes it a little extra fitting that I “played hooky” from work stuff this evening to watch some friends perform in Mamma Mia.(1) It’s a show I was almost in—-for one hot second—-so I very much wanted to make sure I came out to support everybody.

I’ll admit I was a little worried that I’d have some wistful sad feelings about it all. Sorry for what I’d missed out on, desiring to be up on stage again. After the bows and the drive home, I’m glad to say that wasn’t an issue for me.

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