It's Sunday night. And I'm not too happy. Not sad or anything like that. Just a bit pissed off, at how am I going to drag myself up at 7.30 in the morning tomorrow. I just cannot come to terms with this waking up routine. And I try everything, a million alarms, getting people to call to wake me up. And still it's a struggle. A struggle to fall asleep, an even worse struggle to snap out of sleep. By the looks of my colleagues, they must be very early risers to have time to put so much war paint on. Some must be up at the crack of dawn, it's no joke. 7.30 is fine for me, if I can be awake at 7.30 that is. Enough time to prettify myself, choose what to wear and get to work in plenty of time. If you don't have to cross the Marsa traffic then you're ok. But with me it's just five more minutes, then five more, then ten more... and before I know it it's an hour more. Really bad. It's as if I am walking in a living dream right now, I cannot get enough of Handel's Rinaldo. I just love opera, and no I cannot sing to save my life. I am a musician not a singer. Opera is beautiful when you don't have to catch the Gozo ferry at something like 3 in the afternoon to be able to be there before the audience. That's not very beautiful, even worse is catching the 1 or 2 am ferry back, then having to cross the island to come to home sweet home. Otherwise, opera is truly a unforgettable experience every time. Opera is so much like diamonds. It sparkles, it's a symbol of love and life, and intense emotions..... or maybe this girl's just a teeny weeny bit possessed by the spirit of music, the one which makes the hairs on your arm stand on end, the one which sends shivers down your spine. That's music, diamonds, love, and life. Intensity. Which is something very few people seem to have nowadays. Intensity which in turn transforms you into a temperamental beast (not your fault), but which also allows you to experience the extreme highs and lows of life. The kind of which when experienced you know you've been to heaven and back again.
I must admit it is difficult to admit to my peers my absolute love for opera. They think opera is out. I am certain opera is in. Is there really a need fo people to buy years on the couch.... no. Not if they can connect with music and opera. And definitely not if their therapist has no clue about music and opera. Because if therapy has to do with emotion and healing, how the hell can music and art not be a part of it? Cognitive beavioural, Gestalt, they're all very well.... Music, it beats them all. I have yet to find someone who is moved by what I am moved by. I actually do have a therapist friend who is moved in the same way I am. But he is a friend, and close friends do not make the best therapists. But when I do find a stranger who can connect, it'll be on my blog, fastest than the speed of light. I promise.
I must admit it is difficult to admit to my peers my absolute love for opera. They think opera is out. I am certain opera is in. Is there really a need fo people to buy years on the couch.... no. Not if they can connect with music and opera. And definitely not if their therapist has no clue about music and opera. Because if therapy has to do with emotion and healing, how the hell can music and art not be a part of it? Cognitive beavioural, Gestalt, they're all very well.... Music, it beats them all. I have yet to find someone who is moved by what I am moved by. I actually do have a therapist friend who is moved in the same way I am. But he is a friend, and close friends do not make the best therapists. But when I do find a stranger who can connect, it'll be on my blog, fastest than the speed of light. I promise.
