Small Pleasures: A List, Part 1

1.    Colo(u)ring (ohhhh yes, grown-ups can do it, too)
2.    White, super fluffy towels
3.    Soft skin
4.    Great stories
5.    Sleeping in, then staying in your pajamas all. day.
6.    An exercise endorphin high
7.    Window boxes (preferably filled with colorful blooms and/or delicious smelling herbs)
8.    The perfect cup of coffee (often with a nice bit of foam atop it with a lovingly sprinkled cocoa design)
9.    Waking up truly rested.
10.    Singing in the shower without catching yourself out for feeling stupid (you wouldn't believe how hard it is for me to sing around the house, or in the shower, or for pleasure, simply because it is my job. It used to bring me such joy...[shocked face] Oof...that should get explored...)
11.    Finding a forgotten money in your pocket! Especially when it has been laundered and is extra crispy
12.    The sound of ferocious, pelting rain— especially against windows… especially in the morning…
13.    Your softest, most beloved, most delicious t-shirt

14.    Holding hands. A friend of mine just last week told me I was a “hand holding whore”— I informed him I never accepted payment for hand holding. I am not fickle! I simply loved to hold hands with anyone who would allow me the pleasure. I have one friend with whom my hand holding has been exceptionally satisfying. David Fetzer (of Salt Lake City) and I discovered that our hands were particularly suited to one another’s in Directing class at Interlochen in 1999. When we held hands the fit was so tremendous it was as if you could hear the hermetical seal occur! The noise of suction! The satisfaction of what truly was a perfect fit!  I believe I even made a mold of my hand for his senior gift so he could always have it. (The creepiness of that just occurred to me but at the time it was sort of sweet I suppose.) He recently surprised me at the stage door of Carousel and before we even exchanged words we held up our hands, intertwined the fingers, made the suction noise and held hands for a moment… it was utterly amazing. So. Hold hands. It’s the best.
15.    A genuine compliment (giving or receiving)
16.    Slow dancing
17.    A handwritten letter.
18.    Genuinely laughing… Hard.
19.    The movie theater rituals (including film selection, cinema popcorn, seat selection, ice lollies, and pick-n-mix not to be eaten until after the previews...)
20.    Playing hookey!
21.    A great bath
22.    Swimming for pleasure (which for me involves a great deal of face-down floating)
23.   Cheesy, uplifting films
24.  Fountain soda. I mean, a fizzy beverage is just the most refreshing and delicious thing in all the world. With heaps of ice and a colorful straw. I mean oh my word can you imagine anything else closer to beverage perfection?
25.    THAT favorite song

Capturing the Zeitgeist, Part Four: One Last Hurrah

I feel inclined, on Ms DePalma's final day of performance, to share with you one last Sophie Hurrah. She will be missed, but clearly she shall continue to live on... perhaps in her very own Vegas show... you never know... her off stage persona gets a lot of air time... clearly...

Future possibility:

Sophie DePalma: A Road Trip with Sharon
     [includes preliminary scenes composed yesterday with Laquita that go roughly like this:

1.

Sophie: Hi Sharon, um... I heard you live in Ohio and I live in Michigan so maybe we could roadtrip it back together after the semester is over...? I have a car, pop some Rossini in the tape-deck and ride into the Midwest together? ...

Sharon: [pause] No.

2.

Sophie: Hi there Sharon

Sharon: [silence]

Sophie: Okay. Well sooooooo sorry to bother you about this but could I borrow your Norma score? I'm working on Teneri figli and was studying in the bath and whoops! dropped it in and I have a coaching in an hour and.. you know... it would be soooo great if you would lend me yours and I'll give it right back safe and sound I promise! [smiles]

Sharon: [eyes wide, not blinking, stares at her in total whyareyoueventalkingtome astonishment] No.

[she walk away, and just before she turns a corner--] and girl, you should stop studying in the bath!

After these scenes Sharon's flight is cancelled due to apocalyptic winter weather and she concedes to go with Sophie on the road trip in order to make it back to Ohio in time for Christmas... with hilaaaaaarious consequences! Thoughts?

*

And other possibilities include:

Sophie DePalma and the Lost Umbrella 

Sophie DePalma: Down Under

Sophie on the Roof

Sophie DePalma's SCHOOL OF ROCK

Sophie Knows What You Did Last Summer 

Sophie at the Bat

Are you there God? It's me Sophie.

Sophie DePalma  Explains it All For You

Basically, Sophie DePalma is the gift that keeps on giving...

*

And a final word from Genius and Director Stephen Wadsworth [pictured left]:

"Sophie takes out full-page advertisement in New York Times (paid for by her Russian mafia sabrillionaire boyfriend): SOPHIE DE PALMA, STUDENT OF MARIA CALLAS, NOW OFFERING VOICE LESIONS.

Only after it goes to press does someone bring her attention to the fact that it says lesions and not lessons.

She is however contacted by several late-career singers looking for a way to wind down.  She succeeds in giving them vocal lesions through the same exercises she used for vocal lessons, they file for workman's compensation on their last job, her husband pays their legal bills, and she becomes quite famous for destroying voices on a tight schedule.  Late in life, after her trial in the Hague on charges of genocide, she tells the Washington Post, "There are so many teachers out there building voices, I thought it would be good to help people destroy them.  I mean, what are you going to do with a great big voice if you're just going to end up in a little room in an old people's home?  Where are you going to put it.  Do you really think the family is going to STORE it?"

xx"

Farewell Sophie DePalma: You were not only a lovely, well-meaning, sensitive girl capable of such depth and feeling... you were also a hell of a hoot. Don't be a stranger.

Over and out.

I've Been

faking it-- Operatically speaking

hanging with the Puritani Quartet in the Greenroom, 1835

getting Sophie DePalma’s score signed by Maestro Bellini himself…

 (...in fact, making up an entire life for lil' miss Sophie DePalma and sharing it with you...and with Stephen Wadsworth... and with the entire company... and with Terrence himself... and... and...and...)

dining with legends

engaging in the spirit of the Terrance McNally Triptych by drinking vodka and sharing tales laaaaaate into the night with Manu and Roe— one of us from each play. Magic.

making some serious new friends.

…And enjoying my love for/of the old ones (up to and including living with Alex & Oliver, visits to DC from Alley, Maro, Santino, Steinmans, Bergen, Mannings, Jessica…)

struggling with solitude
... and with several Achilles heels

achieving incredible new understanding

discovering Honey. Roasted. Peanut. Butter (= WHOA...)


enjoying the epic beauty of the DC cherry blossoms in the most glorious and romantic way possible. "...The blossoms are just comin' down by thereselves..."

(…and, in that light, I suppose realizing I am far further along than I previously thought...)

going for long runs on the Washington Mall (Memorials Lincoln to Washington to Capitol to Vietnam and back to Kennedy… how boring…)

 feeling patriotic

making it up as I go along with Tyne

wearing PURPLE. KNEE. SOCKS.

surviving with Laquita.

“The Girl About Town”

singing around the piano with Malcolm Getts (and Manu Narayan, and Marc Kudish…)

drinking pomegranate champagne
...with Doris Roberts

getting the last bit of it out of my system
     (…and feeling pretty damn proud/excited/great about that)

contacting all my ex-boyfriends… in a single day…

preparing for Chapter 3

eating Oliver's gorgeous, homemade, organic, locally sourced food every single flipping day! (NnnnnnDelicious!)

re-connecting with family. what a joy.

falling in totally love with every. single. cast member. of the lisbon traviata (…and weeping when they leave!)

reuniting with The Alexandra Sisters

experiencing Act 2 solitude (-- the joys and sorrows of

singing at Terrence McNally & Tom Kirdhay’s wedding. Unbelievable.


languishing in the true joy of the season: the reese's peanut butter egg. now also in mini sizes... daaaaaaamn...

Predicting other people’s pregnancies

flashing black finger nails
…and burgundy
…and red…ooo…

falling in love with trains

Capturing the Zeitgeist, Part Three: More from Sophie DePalma

Inspired by the genius of a certain director, Mr. Stephen Wadsworth...

more titles from Sophie DePalma.

* * *

SOPHIE DE PALMA: GIRL DETECTIVE

[Captions: The Pap, Night Vision, Under the tarmac,
 Hiding in the brush, a clever DISGUISE, "AHA! Up THERE!",
Squished,  Don't freakin' MESS with me... ,  Dusting for prints...]

and

SOPHIE TWO

and

SOPHIE DE PALMA'S GUIDE TO SINGING

Capturing the Zeitgeist, Part Two: The Puritani Quartet

Golden Age explores the night of January 24, 1835, opening night of Vincenzo Bellini's final opera I Puritani (The Puritans), starring the four most celebrated singers in Europe known as The Puritani Quartet. As the audience, we have a backstage peek at the world behind the scenes on an opening night, exploring not only the ins and outs of being in the theatre, but the ins and outs of being of the theatre. Bellini himself is dying of consumption, but the necessity for creation drives him forward.

We share a Greenroom with them.
The 1970's meets 1835.
It's pretty weird. 


* * *



So. There they are in the Greenroom shared by 1970's New York City and 1835 Paris.
A coffee machine.
A few dozen puzzles.
A spades game in the corner.
Theatrical posters along the walls from present day to days of yore.
The day was inevitable.
The day was today:

Sophie DePalma meets her idol, soprano Giulia Grissi...in the company of her fellow Puritani Quartet members-- baritone Tamburini, bass LaBlanche and tenor Rubini.

[excited face!!!]

SCENE 1

[Sophie gathers herself as best she can, pulls up her knee socks, and appraoches Grissi, perhaps including herself in Grissi's personal space juuuuuuust a touch...]

Sophie: ...Omygodyour Adalgisa in Maestro Bellini's Norma was leeeeeeeeegendary...

Giulia: Haha! [coy light laughter complete with theatrical head-shaking and hand flicking] ...Yes.

Sophie: May I touch your necklace?

[pause]

Giulia: Um. [she blinks] Certainly...

[she removes it]

Sophie: ...and would you sign my score?!

Grissi: eh?

Tamburini: What's that magic flashing box?

Rubini: [aside] perhaps she will not see me stealing her jewels while the magic box flashes...


* * *

SCENE 2


Sophie: Ooooooooh...

[Giulia's left hand pulls the jewels iiiiimperceptibly away...]


Giulia: Careful Sophie! Careful now my dear! These were given to me by Rossini.

Sophie: they WERE?!

Giulia: Oh yes, after my performance of Semiramide in Paris. Gioachino has wonderful taste in jewels.

Sophie: --what about the one you are wearing?

Giulia: my good luck necklace from my stage debut as Emma in Rossini's Zelmira in Bologna in 1828. From my sisters.

Sophie: and the earrings?

[she moves to touch them]

Giulia: Ah-Ah-AH! No touching! NO. TOUCHING. NO TOUCH! [she gathers herself: a deep breath before,] They were a gift from an admirer in Milan after the premiere of Norma.

Sophie: and what about your tiara...?

[pause. deadpan.]

Giulia: It's mine. We must dress for the job we want my darling-- haven't you ever heard that phrase...?

[she examines Sophie briefly...]

...perhaps you haven't...

FIN.

Let's Talk Live

Yesterday's Washington DC morning show broadcast Let's Talk Live discussing Terrence McNally's Master Class at The Kennedy Center, Maria Callas herself, and this very blog with Doug Mckelway.

Enjoy!

He loves and He loves...

Love. Oh Love.

Here is how it went down. (Talk about shotgun wedding...)

T&T: "So...we're getting married tomorrow morning and it would be nnnnnnnnnnnnDelish if you could join us.  We'll meet at the stage door at 10:45am and walk over to the river.  The ceremony will be brief.  No pressure...just know we'd love to have you join us.
xoxox Tom
 

PS Do you have a number for Tyne? We discussed the ceremony briefly but I don't know how to reach her."

*

Al: "OH my word I would be so honored to be there. I have to move an interview around but it is HAPPENING. So much love to you both.
“What a day what a day”
A xx"

*

T&T: "We'll be done by no later than 11:45am.  NO PRESSURE...we fully understand if you can't...but know we'd love to have you there if you can join us.  Tyne, Malcolm, Glover and you.
xoxox

I spoke with Tyne. She's reading a sonnet.  Wanna sing snippet of a song? Any song? Geeezz...we're really throwing this together here.  Oy!
xo"

*

Al: "I want to sing!!!
I can't believe you are asking me to sing. Give me 10 minutes I'll come up with options and you can pick??
A capella of course just checking--- because if there was a piano... by a river.... Malcolm could totally play it... but I'm realizing it's by the river and I'll stop typing now and look for a capella songs. okay! brb"

*

T&T: "Yup, it's by the river so a capella. But please know there is NO pressure
(Btw the thought of Malcolm playing while you sing is a total dream.)
Going to bed now...
Love you! Xo"

*



And so we did. We gathered at the stage door and made our way to a glorious tree on the banks of the Potomac. Tyne wore blue. She recited a sonnet and handed out flowers from our set. Glover wore a t-shirt that proclaimed Love Conquers Hate. Malcolm brought sunflowers that reminded him "of Harold and Maud." There was laughter. Tears. Here's to love.


*

...Musical duties were executed by Callas’ first student “victim,” Alexandra Silber. “She sang ‘He Loves, and He Loves,’” said McNally, “but don’t tell the Gershwin estate.”

Capturing the Zeitgeist, Part One: Maestro Bellini

So what happens when Sophie DePalma of Terrance McNally's Master Class meets Bel Canto composer Vincenzo Bellini of Terrance McNally's Golden Age? A world of fun.

Here at The Kennedy Center Nights at the Opera festival, we are exploring three of McNally's plays only all about the world of opera. But the connections between the pieces are not tenuous-- there are even some lines throughout the three plays that are early identical. The connections are beautiful, touching, delightful.

Golden Age explores the night of January 24, 1835, opening night of Vincenzo Bellini's final opera I Puritani (The Puritans). We follow Bellini himself throughout the evening.

The Lisbon Traviata explores the world of opera fanatics, the two we meet: Mendy and Stephen are particularly taken with their passion for Maria Callas.

And of course, Master Class is about Callas herself.

All are about art and authenticity. It is a beautiful triptych and I wish you could all be a part of it.

So.

What is one little actress, passionate about her part of this festival and only in Act 1 supposed to do about it all? Um... capture the zeitgeist of the triptych in photographic form of course!

Sophie DePalma, the disastrous wreck of of Master Class, studying at Julliard and working on Amina's famous Ah non credea mirarti from Bellini's La Sonnombula, comes across composer Vincenzo Bellini himself in the hallway! What a coincidence! She is beyond thrilled and, armed with her admittedly beaten up score, cannot help herself: she must ask for his autograph.

[FYI: Things you need to know about the pieces in order to appreciate the following fully:

- Bellini suggests a haircut with the wigmaster to distract himself from the pain of being backstage.
- Sophie is asked by Calls if she is Italian, she responds she is Greek/Italian. (It accounts for her "fiery-ness"...hm...)
- Sophie famously forgets to bring her pencil in a very big way...
- Callas asks the audience about a good beauty parlor for she can't get a good "wash and set in this city"
- and at the end of the act poor Sophie doesn't even know how to get off the stage...]

So. without further ado, here is the dialogue I imagine:

* * *


Sophie: MAESTRO BELLINI! MAESTRSO BELLINI I am a HUGE fan. Ohmygoodness. Um, So. My name is Sophie. Sophie DePalma and I am singing Amina's aria from your Sonnombula right now at school and...and know that my score is a little...um, worse for wear--I sort of dropped it in the tub by accident BUT! That was only because I find your work SO AMAAAAAAZING and was studying in the bath...blaaaah so. Anyway... WOULD YOU SIGN MY SCORE?! I would be SO. HONORED.

Bellini: Um... of course my dear. To whom shall I make it out again?

Sophie: Oh! Sophie. Sophie DePalma.

Bellini: Italian?

Sophie: Greek/Italian. You know I get asked that a lot!

Bellini: Lovley. [he takes up her VERY. SHARP. READYTOGO. PENCIL. and begins to sign]

Sophie: [watching a liiiiittle too close...] ...You can add "darling" if you want.

Bellini: Alright...

Sophie: TO DARLING SOPHIE: THE DEFINITIVE AMINA...

[Pause. He stares at her. Puzzled.]

Bellini: Okay.

[he returns to the score]

Sophie: .....and could you sign it Vincenzo? I've always liked your first name.

Bellini: ... [voice pinched now, eyes not still on the page] With pleasure. [finishes signature with flourish] There you are Sophie DePalma, now off you go. I must run I have a haircut with the wigmaster. I can't get a good cut in this city. I wish you luck.

Sophie: Oh, thank you Maestro! Thank you.

[Bellini straightens his coattails and exits]

Now how do I get off the stage?


FIN.

* * *

Yes. This is what I get up to in Act 2...

Terrence McNally on Master Class

Terrence on Master Class



Also, hear more from Terrence on The Lisbon Traviata and see a clip from his newest play Golden Age.

Words I Like

Form versus content is an important distinction with favo(u)rite words. Sometimes one can love a word for what it means (ineffable), other times one can adore it for the way it sounds (roil), feels in the mouth (delicious), rolls off the tongue (Baltic), or perhaps simply for the way it looks on paper (saffron).

1. cerulean - I love a deep blue. especially when it has a name like cerulean: my favourite blue word as well as my favourite crayola crayon.

2. lithograph - I love stamps that is no secret, but the word lithograph  The "th" "g" and "ph" are all phonetically chewy as well as somehow immensely descriptive. You can actually feel a print being made as the lithograph lifts from the page... It is just utterly delicious. And speaking of delicious...

3. DELICIOUS this might be my new favourite word altogether. It satisfies so many of the above pre-requisites for favouritism: it is beautifully descriptive, onomatopoeic, a delight to have in the mouth, and can be used both languidly and with biting punctuation. I like to pronounce it with capital letters in my voice and a little slide into it-- it sounds like this: "nnnnnnnDELICIOUS." I use it to describe everything from food, to people, to circumstances...

4. saffron - perfect example of form versus content. Saffron the spice? Schmeh. Saffron the word... amazing. Sexy. Exotic. The length is perfect, the vowel to consonant ratio exact. The double f is like two long legs on a contrary woman who eyes you coyly before leaving your sight forever.

5. roil - this might be word perfection in that it sounds exactly like what it means (to make turbid by stirring up the sediment or dregs of;  to stir up) but it is also hugely onomatopoeic and just generally descriptive in a satisfyingly accurate way. Specifics is everything in language, and roil hits the spot.

6. tangerine - that slightly deeper shade of orange? The slightly sweeter fruit? How is this word not perfection?

7. sorted - A Briticism. While Americans may be "all set" "prepared" or "ready"-- Brits are more than that, they are "sorted." And I just think it is the best thing I picked up there... (aside from Percy Pigs a great career and lifelong friends that is...) Sorted is the kind of word that like a photograph is worth a thousand words that can be used to explain it's full meaning. It indicates a total and utter togetherness; a finality and satisfaction. It is practically word porn. I noted it's significance for the first time after two academic terms in Glasgow: mom looked at me in wonder and actually asked me to repeat myself "Sorted," she chewed it over with delight, "SOOOOOR-T-ED. That is a great term... SORTED... whoa..." And we both stood there in awe for a moment and it has had a halo around it ever since.

8. trenchant -(Etymology: Middle English trenchaunt, from Anglo-French, present participle of trencher. Date: 14th century. 1 : keen, sharp 2 : vigorously effective and articulate; also : caustic 3 a : sharply perceptive : penetrating a trenchant view of current conditions b : clear-cut, distinct) I love words that get to the point. Words that penetrate and cut through-- and that is exactly what trenchant was invented for.  As mentioned above, specific in language is everything and nothing gets to the kernel, the essence of one's meaning more than trenchant. A trenchant analysis. Trenchant remarks that may help or hurt in just the right way.  Or as Edith, Wharton put it, "the trenchant divisions between right and wrong." Perfection.

9. defenestrate - Look. This word means "to thrown someone or something out of a window." [deadpan pause] ... I mean... isn't that AMAZING? I mean, how did this word come into being? Are there words for smashing a chair into a bazillion pieces? Is there a term specific to   threaten to "kick someone's ass" when you can threaten to defenestrate them? And just when I thought it would never be used in real life (or in televisual real life)... Lost's John Locke is dramatically defenestrated by his father in season 4. (Not to mention almost every exit in Mission Impossible 3...)

10. ineffable - Unlike Supercalifragalisticexpialidocious, is actually the word you say when you don't know what to say... the adjective you use when something is too great or too extreme to be described in words. Not to be uttered. It can be everything from the ineffable beauty of the Everglades to the ineffable Hebrew name that gentiles describe as Jehovah (or the ineffable name of He Who Must Not Be Named that Muggles would describe as Voldemort...?).

11.  Baltic - I would put this in the category of a Glaswegianism... (which, though possibly invented in this very moment, is also quite a good word...) But! Back to Baltic: it is splendid-- especially when used to describe the cold-- To quote my dear friend Frances, [Glaswegian accent] "It's feckin' BalTIC!") There is something about it that just gets to the essence of what it feels like to be cold to the bone, in the guts, to be cold in. your. soul... when it is "feckin' Baltic oot", there's nothing that can save you. Nothing.

What are your favo(u)rite words...?

Meet Sophie...

Master Class
By Terrence McNally
Directed by Stephen Wadsworth

part of Terrence McNally's Nights at the Opera

From comedies and dramas to musical theater and movies, Terrence McNally has secured his place among the great modern playwrights. McNally has earned four Tony Awards (Ragtime, Master Class, Love! Valour! Compassion!, Kiss of the Spider Woman) and written theater hits from Frankie and Johnny in the Clair de Lune to The Full Monty. For the 2009–2010 Theater season, the Kennedy Center presents The Lisbon Traviata, Master Class, and Golden Age, a special collection of three McNally plays on one of his favorite subjects--the opera.

A Tony winner for Best Play, Master Class stars Emmy and Tony Award–winning actress Tyne Daly as Maria Callas. The cast also includes Jeremy Cohen as Manny, Laquita Mitchell as Second Soprano (Sharon), Ta'u Pupu'a as Tenor (Tony), and Alexandra Silber as First Soprano (Sophie). The play is a portrait of the opera diva told through her recollections of the glories, triumphs, and tragedies of her own life and career. Her voice is gone, her lover is long departed, and her sanity could possibly be next. All she has is a lonely itinerary of master classes and luggage packed full of the memories that are her only travel companion. Her students are the hapless targets of her sharp tongue, while she remains the picture of innocent aristocracy. Master Class shows that while the actress may have left the stage, she will never give up her audience.

Master Class features set design by Thomas Lynch, costume design by Martin Pakledinaz, lighting design by David Lander, and sound design by Jon Gottlieb.

"Some people are very talented at love..."

"Oftentimes we sit in the slow dim of the light and listen as a quiet bit of Chopin plays in the distance, and we slowly cross the bridge from our ordinary lives to something... remarkably similar..." his eyes crack at the sides with mischief and an anticipatory pleasure, like the sides of his mouth set in an almost imperceptible smirk. I sit in the corner absolutely still. Cautious yet fascinated, I take stock, watching him think. "…but sometimes; sometimes we are grabbed by the throat and transported to a totally different world..."

And somehow, you just instinctively believe that by following this inscrutable bloke, you will somehow stumble upon that world. And I am stumped, sitting there curious and a bit stunned: how does he accomplish that?

He stands there in the wake of his own words, hands out before him, as though grasping for articulation— as if it were something to be tangibly held— as if with the right incantatory movements one might be able to hold before them the exact kernel of their meaning and intention.

Hands extended, one can tell his energy contains an element of the crass, the deliciously vulgar; and his ownership of an almost reckless sexuality is what drives not only his passions but his humor. And with that, he laughs— robust, from his guts, what Howard Barker would describe as "the peculiar laugh of tragedy— the laugh on the rim of death."

Yet the majority of his manner is soft— voice a soothing English murmur, a diffident sentimental gaze, and the previously mentioned hands seem gentle, playful, tentative, almost, dare I say it, feminine— almost childlike— one imagines what they get up to, what they've explored.

And it is precisely this rich and disparate accumulation of qualities that has me held so within the first few moments.

"But I do think we should just play,” he continues, “we mustn’t concern ourselves with the delivery of perfection, that last bastion of what we call ‘performance quality’ or ‘our all.’ We are explorers, delving into a murky pool of unknown water, and we must not fear either it or our own inadequacy to take it on…”

Careless, rumpled button-up over a striped t-shirt. It dresses his frame in such a manner that in certain lights he appears French, in others, perhaps Croatian. (Hungarian, maybe?) There is a European flair there, make no mistake, and it emanates not form the striped shirt itself, but from the essence of the man who selected it, and chose to put it on.

“…I know what you are all thinking, that you are not enough, that you are crap, really, that you will never be able to do justice to the piece, to the extent of your abilities, to what you are fully capable of…”

There is also wild graying hair held off his face with spectacles, angular teeth perfumed with tobacco smoke, and a musk one could only describe as man.

“That not only will you not be able to deliver that today, but actually, overall you are inadequate on every level. That, after billions of years of evolution, finally, from the depths of bubbling seas, there came along a creature as inadequate as me. Well, put that away. Just discover and explore and let’s see what is there together."

As I listen and observe him from the very back of the gathering, I note that at the center of all this is the eyes.

“It is, after all, about many forms of love…”

Eyes lines with a deep, iced-blue pain— a specific kind of hurt. The kind capable of vision. Vision at a cost. It always costs. And it is just then I come across this glint of observation which he declares quietly, definitely:

"…some people are very talented at love..."

It was a quiet utterance of ordeal.
Civilized.
But present.