No, it's not a post about acting....but the rehearsal and dinner ahead of Aziza's wedding. I'm still adjusting to life in Bermuda, running around doing errands and catching up with friends. Unfortunately, a dear friend was recently diagnosed with MS and I desperately wanted to see her before she moved to the UK for treatment. I mention this as I feel any opportunity to bring attention to this disease and it's treatment is a good thing. To give to the MS Society please click here. After a few glasses of wine, on the beautiful porch overlooking the harbour, I raced up to the rehearsal at Fort Scaur (wearing beautiful new clothes that my lovely friend had thrown upon me ahead of her move). The rehearsal was mostly figuring out what to do on the day, and meeting the rest of the bridal party (namely the groomsmen). Pictured is Cal at the site, taken just after they had chosen the location. Dinner followed at Cal's grandmother's house and then we took the overseas guests out to Pickled Onion in Hamilton to catch Mohawk Radio's last gig with Mia, before she moves to the UK for awhile. I'm still suffering from lack of sleep, which I don't think will improve until after the wedding, so here's to trucking forward.
The American Composer and lyricist Cole Porter was born on today's date in 1891. He created some of the most famous music of his era and his songs were performed by many of the greats. So in tribute to Cal & Aziza ahead of their wedding here's "You're the Top" as sung by Cole Porter himself. Yes the sound quality is off, but it comes directly from a record, and I'm a sucker for anything retro.
Today's Quote comes from Special Counsel for the US Army Joseph Welch, who today in 1954 lashed out at Sen. Joseph McCarthy during the Communism hearings creating a famous rebuke:
"You've done enough. Have you no sense of decency, sir, at long last? Have you left no sense of decency?"
The failure of McCarthyism is something to surely celebrate.
Oh Britain, how you confuse me with your rapid weather changes. An hour ago there was lightning, thunder and torrential rain. Now as I type the sunshine is warming my sitting room. Clearly this makes my outfit planning for the day very difficult, but despite this I cannot be annoyed with you. After all, I can't blame myself for my day-to-day moods, nor can I blame the gods for the emotional mirror the weather provides. Today is a good day. Nothing has happened. Either eventfully or emotionally. Sometimes silence and solitude is all I need for serenity. “Do not be angry with the rain; it simply does not know how to fall upwards.” ― Vladimir Nabokov
It’s 24 days into 2018 and I’m only now sharing my new year’s resolutions. I am, however, giving myself a pass because mine aren’t just for one year, they’re for 26. Since university, I haven’t planned my life more than a few months ahead. I thought I was a free spirit, but I now believe it was indicative of the opposite – one caged by fear. One that’s scared to plan and be disappointed; terrified to make goals, in case I miss the goalposts. The letter A is for... x While I had an incredible past year of achievements, I experienced something akin to daily stress fractures on my brain, which created fissures and cracks in my mind triggering mania and depression in rapid cycles. Now, I have chosen to unlock the cage: I’m committing myself fully to my creative endeavours all while travelling wherever this wild spirit finds itself drawn to, because that spirit was slowly dying. I was not in a good way. Now, here I am with the vastness of life stretched out before me. These e
I've been negligent, I know. It's not just you, YOC, it's every piece of writing in my life. I'm suffering from the dreaded...dun dun dun...WRITER'S BLOCK. I'm not even sure if that's the right terminology for what I'm experiencing, because actually it's more that I'm hating everything I've written in the past. Since losing my laptop I haven't written a single new word of The Hardest Part , my novel-in-progress. Likely because I lost the last 15-20 pages and I'm resentful. It's been stagnating on page 287 or whatever for two months and I now think I hate it. There are parts of it that I love (usually individual sentences), and I know what I'm trying to do, but I'm just not executing it in the right way. I keep opening the manuscript, reading it, becoming exasperated and deciding that before I make drastic changes or toss the whole thing I'll leave it a few days until I'm in a better mood. The thing is I've
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