Storm and all its terrors are nothing to the heart's despair

[sovay]

My poem "The Ceremony of Innocence" has been accepted by Mythic Delirium. It is not quite the dream I had once about Benjamin Britten setting the poems of Rudyard Kipling, but I'm still giving it points for timing since I just sang three of Britten's folksongs this afternoon at Music to Cure MS. "O Waly, Waly," "The Last Rose of Summer," "The Lincolnshire Poacher." I think I was better at rehearsal on Thursday night. (I had a very fine Halloween party on Friday evening. Friday morning, I was in crying pain from both ears, and Friday afternoon I spent waiting to see a doctor. I have an ear infection for the first time I can remember in my adult life. I'm on antibiotics for it, which never treat me well. Saturday was pretty much nonexistent until the evening, when I met gaudior and rushthatspeaks for the last night of Tomes of Terror—in short, there were some very nice things about the last couple of days, but they've also been exhausting.) I am nonetheless very glad that I did it. My high school voice teacher was in the audience and said I sounded good. The raffle ticket I bought won me a haircut I'm never going to use. And my accompanist spontaneously offered to hook me up with a paying klezmer gig. The usual weirdness prevails, apparently. Worth it.

And now to make a last-minute supermarket run against the storm.

Comments

[asakiyume.livejournal.com]

I love the tune of "O Waly Waly." I'm glad you got your concert in before the winds with their swiftness and the sea with its deepness gathered themselves to try attending.

[sovay]

I'm glad you got your concert in before the winds with their swiftness and the sea with its deepness gathered themselves to try attending.

Thank you. That must be a folktale: a drowned town, where the sea came to hear a singer.

[ashlyme.livejournal.com]

One of you should write that.

[asakiyume.livejournal.com]

I think it really may be, actually. I wonder where....