Here's a poem I was intending to enter in the eisteddfod this weekend... there's one problem - I don't like it, and I don't know why! Maybe it's the rhyme scheme, or maybe because I didn't write it from emotion (which is how I usually write). Anyway, I would very much appreciate some constructive criticism, so please tell me the brutal truth or reassure me if it really ok. Thanks everyone!
The stage is a bubble where things always go wrong,
But all is resolved by a speech or a song.
Time and real life are put at a stand still
As all pass into a separate world.
Where nothing foreign can penetrate until
Back to reality one finds himself hurled.
The set is a doorway to a fantasy land
Where speech is a song, and one’s wish a command.
The rocks, or the towers, whatever it be
Are the windows into that realm so distant
Though you’re so close you can hear and see
The land that’s so real and yet non-existent.
The actors are puppets that live, breathe and speak
They are shadows that carry an air of mystique.
Who are the people behind the layers of paint?
Are they anything like the figures they play?
Is he really laughing? Is she really faint?
Or do they find sweet relief in their playact display?
The curtains are a cruel jolt back to reality.
They kill all the characters with one foul sweep of finality.
And with empty seats, empty stage, empty hall
We leave until we can do it again.
And so we return to life, quiet and small
Until we come once more to entertain.
For if the stage is a bubble with no link to real life
Why do we go through the stress and the strife
Of every show? There’s one link, you know,
That all of us stage-show people can claim:
We’re entertainers, and so for every show
People’s laughter or tears is to our gain.
I am long overdue for a general post to tell y'all about how life is going. So here it is now. :)
As a lot of you would have known, Mum and Dad were involved in the local production of The Pirates of Penzance this year. It was all rather exciting, as none of us have been involved with our theatrical society since Beauty and the Beast six years ago, and Mum and Dad have never done one together. There is a consequence that must be realized when you commit yourself to being in a musical show, and that is that - while everyone involved is a volunteer - everyone must pay by being semi-tortured with the same songs going around and around your head day and night for months on end. Thankfully, torture is only torture if you don't enjoy, and I think that, on the whole (in our family at least) we enjoyed the show and the music so much that we are only now beginning to wish we could forget it. For those of you who do not know the story of The Pirates of Penzance here is a synopsis from The Utah Shakespeare Festival website:
On the coast of Cornwall, a gang of pirates play and party as Frederic (a pirate apprentice) reminds the pirate king that his obligation to the gang is soon over. He was apprenticed to the pirates only until his twenty-first birthday, which is that day, and he is leaving them. Ruth (Frederic’s nursery maid when he was younger) explains that Frederic should never have been a pirate except for her mistake: She was told to apprentice Frederic to a pilot, but she misunderstood and placed him with a pirate instead.
Frederic tells the pirates that, after he leaves the gang, he intends to destroy them, not because he doesn’t love them, but because he loathes what they do. He is a slave of duty and, when no longer a pirate, it will be his duty to destroy them. The pirates understand, and also complain that they cannot seem to make money. Because Frederic is a slave-of-duty to the pirates until noon, he tells them why: Because they are all orphans, the pirates will not rob another orphan; and since all their potential victims are aware of this, they all claim to be orphans!
Because Frederic has spent his entire life with the pirates, he has never seen another woman; thus he thinks he may want to take Ruth with him as his wife. He asks Ruth if she is beautiful, and she responds that she is. Frederic, a very trusting young man, says that he believes Ruth and he will not let her age come between them.
At this point, however, Frederic hears a chorus of girls in the vicinity. He sees a group of beautiful young women, realizes he was betrayed by Ruth, and rejects her. Frederic informs the girls that he is a pirate, but not for long. He asks if any of the girls will marry him, and the youngest, Mabel, agrees.
The pirates enter the scene, and each grabs a girl. Major-General Stanley enters and identifies himself as the girls’ father, demanding to know what is taking place. When the pirates tell Major-General Stanley that they intend to marry his daughters, he objects, saying he has an aversion to having pirates for sons-in-law; the pirates respond that they are opposed to having major-generals as fathers-in-law, but that they will put aside the objection.
Knowing about the pirates’ weakness, Major-General Stanley tells them he is an orphan and, thus, disarms the pirates and takes his daughters, along with Frederic, away to his family chapel and estate. The major-general, who actually is not an orphan, soon feels guilty about the lie he told the pirates. Frederic, however, has a plan to lead a squad of zany policemen against the his old gang.
Before he can act, however, the pirate king and Ruth arrive to tell him that he is still obligated to the pirates. Because Frederic was born on February 29 of a leap year, he has served only five birthdays, not the twenty-one required by his contract. A strong sense of duty forces Frederic to relent, and, because he is a member of the pirate band again, to reveal the truth that Major-General Stanley is not an orphan. The pirate king vows that he will have revenge on the major-general.
Mabel enters and begs Frederic not to go back to the pirates, but bound by duty, he leaves. The police ready their attack on the pirates, while the pirates creep in to take revenge on the major-general.
The pirates defeat the police. However, when Ruth divulges that the pirates are really noblemen and they swear their allegiance to the queen, the tables are turned--and the police take the pirates prisoner.
However, because the pirates have never really hurt anyone, they are soon forgiven. The ex-pirates win the girls, Frederic wins Mabel, and everyone lives happily ever after.
Quite frankly, I don't get tired of it - it has become one of my favourite musicals. In fact, I went to see it five out of the ten shows that were playing here in town! XDD It is a very funny show. Below are a few videos starring Jon English and Simon Gallagher that make up my favourite sequence in the whole thing (although, now that I think about it, it probably won't make a whole lot of sense if you don't know what's going on. XD) Oh, and as an extra note... *giggles and whispers it* .... I think our show was better!!! XDD But don't tell Jon English or Simon Gallagher that! If you want to see photos of some of the characters in our show click HERE. A lot of of these photos seem to be of the senior patrons who support the shows each year, but you can kind of get an idea from some of the pictures. Oh, and if you look at photo number 10, that's my dad in the foreground with the parrot on his shoulder. (He played bass.) =D
Other than Pirates, I have been doing a few different things. This weekend coming, Jess and I are going to a leaders training camp in preparation for Tahlee kids camp in September. (It's the same camp I wrote about here.) We are really looking forward to it. I have been hanging out for kids camp since I had to say goodbye to my six little girls last year and send them home.
This week is also the closing date for the region writing eisteddfod that I discovered we have last year. I only entered two sections last year, but this year I am entering all three - short story, poetry, and a letter to the editor. I did not enter the short story category last year as fictional prose is not my strong point when it comes to writing. However I decided to do it this year and I am happy with the results. Oddly enough, it is the poetry that is eluding me this time. I kind of know what I am going for, but the right words are evading me at present. Hopefully they come before the closing date. We shall see, we shall see!!
Guess what??! I am (attempting) to learn the violin! I have sort have been interested for a while, but did not really want to start right at the start with Twinkle Twinkle. My sister Joy offered to give me a lesson, and so I agreed, provided I could start with the second song. She agreed. Actually I don't think she particularly agreed with me, but she decided to humour me anyway. So now, I have struck up a race with James. I asked him who would reach performance level of the last song in Suzuki book 1. He - of course! - is convinced it will be him. At the risk of sounding like a broken record, we shall see, we shall see! XDD
Talking about music lessons, I now have three piano students and am meeting with a potential fourth this week. (Wow! It's all happening this week! O.o) I so much enjoying teaching. My three students are all ten years old, but apparently the little girl I am meeting on Thursday is only seven and has no musical training so I will be starting from scratch, so to speak. I am rather looking forward to it. :)
I think that is all I have to report for now... So long, farewell!
Hey everyone!!! I'm back - back from holidays, back to 'normal' blogging, and back to (almost) normal life.
Most of you would know that the last couple of weeks have been quite difficult for me, my family, and my church family. I used my blog to express my grief about Shannen and the stuff that was happening around and inside of me. I want to thank you all for your love, your patience and your prayers - you are all amazing and I can tell you with added conviction that God is good and His peace and love are beyond anything that this world has to offer. Praise His name forever!
I hope everyone has been well lately and has been doing well. I can't really think of anything particularly to blog about, so I shall just say what has been happening in life recently.
One of the things we kids enjoy every summer is the library's Summer Reading Program that runs from the end of November to the end of January. The way it works is that you read as much as you can and record how many hours you read for. At the end of the allotted time, every two hours you read equals one ticket in your age category. In February each age category gets tickets drawn out and the idea is that the more tickets you have, the more likely you are to be drawn out for a prize. I read about 80 hours this year, but as I am in the adult section now I have no idea how that works out against other readers... not that I am betting on winning or anything, but we all like to win when we enter a competition of any sort. ;) :P
Jess got her wisdom teeth out this week just gone and I'm afraid it's been a rough path for her. Right now - nearly four days after the surgery - she still looks like a little squirrel with nuts in her cheeks from the swelling. In short, it hasn't been so swell... (sorry, sister dear. :P )
I started teaching piano again this week,, and I was reminded in the fist lesson how much I enjoy teaching. My new student is very sweet and I think she will pick up piano very quickly. I hope I can keep up with her. :)
What else has been happening?...
Ummm....
I finally got around to scrap booking my 18th birthday party... it's only two years late, but better late than never! Grace helped me with some of the sheets, and I am so happy with how they have turned out. You can't see all the details in the photos, but the colour theme on each page is pink, orange and blue with an occasional splash of green and purple. :)
I thought I would share the other poem I entered in the writing eisteddfod. I have already put up "Strength During Loss" which you can read here. I was told recently by a poet that rhyming poetry is a bit of a lost art and very few people can do it (personally, I think it depends on how you have learned poetry and what you practice) but not sure what the adjudicator would be looking fr, I thought I would enter a free verse poem as well, which I don't really consider to be a poem - more like prose with funny paragraphing. :P Hope you like it all the same. Thankyou to +Alice Farrelly for helping me out with my formatting, too. :D
Commonplace Palace
Sitting, I listen to the sounds around me.
Sisters, singing and chattering happily
Oblivious as yet of life’s hardships and woes.
Bless their sweet hearts – they come over and kiss me
And off they go again!
Mozart playing through the stereo, creating a ballroom atmosphere
In this commonplace lounge,
Yet not so commonplace either…
Wherever love and laughter abound, is it so common?
No! Kisses and hugs from one’s family
Create a fairy tale setting for a princess to live in.
For Mother and Father are the king and the queen
With one young prince and seven princesses to rule alongside.
How rich we are to live in our commonplace palace –
Laughter hangs from the ceiling and lights up the room.
Love surrounds us on all sides
Warmer than the fire in the hearth.
Homemade scarves – birthday gifts, mainly – are more prized
Than a purple Tyrian cloak.
Patchwork quilts are hugged as stories shared
From books and from life.
Yes our commonplace palace is warmer,
Brighter,
Livelier
Than Buckingham itself
For within these walls resides our family:
Mother Father, Sisters, Brother
Altogether.
I recently learned of a lovely competition in which entrants must retell the story of Beauty and the Beast. If you are interested, HERE is the website. (The prize is publication in a book of collective novels called Five Enchanted Roses). I am not sure as yet if I shall enter, but I thought it would be fun to write it at any rate. So, without further ado, here are the first few paragraphs of my version f Beauty and the Beast (just to get you curious... :P )
Germany, 1925
School’s out! The cries ring through the streets as
children, eager to get home and begin the holidays, dash crazily though the
square and alley ways. I charge through
the thick of them with my comrades all around me. We are the gang of the school and although we
are only ten, the entire neighbourhood recognizes our prestige above any other
gang to ever exist in the town. We are
not a malicious bunch, and will run to the aid of an ailing widow or a helpless
shy school girl if we thought we could do any good. No, we are not spiteful or mean, but we often
end up in trouble from lack of fore-thought in our activities.
We run through the
square and down the lane that leads to my house. Like all German families in the twenties, my
family has suffered a good deal of financial loos, but we are fortunate in that
Father had some stable investments.
While those investments are not worth much now, we are somewhat better
off than most. That is why Mother
promised us cookies and lemonade when school was let out for the year.
We break off into two
groups halfway down the lane – those who hurry and those who creep past Dame
Kansvier’s house. We are all rather
frightened of her, although we have no cause to be. Perhaps it is the way she stands at her
window and gazes out at the happenings of the neighbourhood. Day in day out, she stands and stares. We children firmly believe that she neither
eats nor sleeps, and last week Emilia Hooseburg told us that her bother said
Dame Kansvier was one hundred and fifty-seven years old, and that she hadn’t
eaten or slept since she was ninety. All
this flashes through my mind as I slowly drag myself nearer the ‘witches hut’
as Hans Gruttel calls it.
As I approach, I steal
a glance at the window. I stop in surprise. The dame isn’t there. I am not sure what to think, but by now, my
fellow creepers have passed the house entirely and are trooping confidently
down the road as though they have never been afraid of anything in their
lives. I pick up my pace and go to
follow when a voice, distinguishable as neither male nor female, and gnarled
and creaky with age stops me in my tracks.
“Come here, a moment, lad – I have something I must tell you.” Slowly, I turn and find myself face to face
with the dame herself. My first impulse is
to run and vomit the hideous picture from my mind, but I seem to be rooted to
the spot. Dame Kansvier reaches out and
grasps my hands in a cold, knobby clasp.
I try to pull away, but her grip is surprisingly stubborn.
“Listen here, Karl Austerlitz,” she says, and I
wonder how on earth she knows my name.
“I don’t like the look of the weather, Karl.”
It looks perfectly fine to
me – a perfect summer’s day.
“There’s a storm coming – a
mighty storm – a storm like what no one in history has ever seen, or will ever
see again, Gott
will.”
I am truly frightened now
and struggle harder to free myself, but the dame holds on. With one hand, she pushes the hair off my
forehead and peers into my eyes with an expression I can never forget. It is akin to wistfulness, sorrow,
tenderness, and – oh! – such extreme pain.
“Listen to me Karl. You will be swept up with the storm, but
whether you survive is entirely up to you.
Hatred is an incurable disease, Karl.
Nay – there is but one cure. Love,
Karl – only love can conquer hatred. If
you cannot love, hatred consumes you. It
eats you from the inside out and turns you into a despicable monster.”
I stare at the dame in
astonishment. Not only is it a perfect
summer’s day, but I am ten years old. I
love my mother, but that’s all I care about the subject. Dame Kansvier is not finished. She pulls out a scrap of paper from her
pocket. For the first time, I notice
that she is dressed in little more than rags.
“This will be your
sign, Karl. You must learn to love
before it falls, or you will remain an infamous monster for the rest of your
life.”
I take the paper and gaze
at it. I have never seen anything like
it before. I look up to ask Dame
Kansvier what it means, but she is nowhere to be seen.
The next morning, I
awaken to the sound of church bells. Dame Kansvier has died in the night.
