I am listening to opera singer from Italian singing family, the Pavarottis, Luciano, warbling the aria from La Fille du Regiment (The Daughter of the Regiment) one of my very favourite operas, a very kind one. It was the high Cs aria. ~ I was listening to American composer Aaron Copelands uplifting work Rodeo which I would have liked to have danced to, perhaps if I had performed on stage to with my ultimate ideal dance troupes to have danced with once upon a time if I had have joined, La Groupe de la Place Royale and La La Human Steps with Robert Meilleur the director who also danced with them. The only reason I didnt try to join either fantastic group, though I was an accomplished dancer was because Heavenly Father told me I would have died of AIDS had I joined. I was admitted to ballet school at fourteen for a professional ballet company, but my mother said no. I was broken hearted. She wanted me to be a writer, I think. I danced in London, England, at the Tani Morena School of Dance in the Advanced class in Flamenco dance. I studied a few types of dance, and Merce Cunningham of New York liked my leaps when I danced in his two week dance course in Vancouver at Main Dance Place. He liked my leaps so much, he wanted to marry me, for my leaps. Happenstance has nice legs too and is a fabulous dancer and Im sure he would have done good leaps too if hed heard of them, so perhaps well leap together in heaven!!! Anyway, Im very happy Im married to him. I started in dance when I was four about fourteen hours a week, which is a good age to start. I think every child should have the opportunity to dance if they want to. I still want to dance in the future, I have dance life still to come. Dont, thousands of people who read this, make my mistake earlier in life of not telling anyone much how well you did because you think its bragging. My family thought I was a nothing and couldnt do anything right. They sent me to a mental asylum on false pretences to get me out of the way, because they thought I was a nothing who was embarrassing them, perhaps. Mother was brilliant as a dancer, she did Bo-Peep in a dance at four and performed it on stage. She was brilliant as an actress, she did Portia in Shakespeares The Merchant of Venice at school, and recited to me in my babyhood until I said, Spear, Spear, as a usual thing to ask for more recited verses. She was brilliant at Astronomy going to night classes with Satterthwaite and Moore of English fame, and looking through a telesope at Mars at 3 oclock in the morning. She also sang wildly welly not, but was funny about it, she was a comedian, and said she sang like a crow, but that like her singing teacher said, God loves the nightingales, as well as the crows. She was also a writer with hilariously funny handwriting to Robin and me, it was so wild, and she was so proper about politeness and punctuation. She studied creative writing in her spare time soon after her marriage to Pa and wanted curtains to go with it incase she had to slit her wrists not by making curtains into a dress incase of shortage of money. Ive taken Pas ornate curtains down from the curtain rods for a dress myself before, so I think the same way, and it was when I was a writer and money was scarce. He wouldnt let me have them. She had the idea, she said, after watching the show Gone with the Wind. When I was a young child she took me to see it, the show I mean. At the beginning of the show, it featured they had a fire scene which I thought was a bit dangerous and didnt like the show, because of that. They have a fire in a show? How on earth can anyone sit here safely in the audience, with a fire like that on stage, and the poor people in the show fighting the fire with no help from us. I dont like this show at all. And that was that, end of show attention span! (It was background flames on a screen at the posterior of the stage left.) Anyway, my Mother had her picture taken, professionally, wearing the red velvet dress she one day made from her curtains, she so made them after all into a dress. Would you like some scones with your Robertsons marmelade, or would you like to read a book about missionaries in Russia, instead of staring endlessly at your Donny Osmond posters on the wall, dear? Do something useful please! is the sort of way Robin, my sister and I might have imitated her, which we frequently did with aplomb. (Confianza in su mismo is the Spanish for aplomb. Nobody seems to know what it means sometimes, but It was our favourite word for a while.) The missionary in question had the sense of humour to go to Red Squares environs and distribute heaps of Bibles to a friend, when it was highly illegal to do so, before the Cold War ended. He was my favourite missionary for a long time, because he was so funny! His code name was Brother Andrew (Gods Witness is the title of his book published by Fontana probably). His wife had two dresses, because they invested all their money in hundreds and hundreds of Bibles. He was a Dutch missionary, not of our Church, who studied Theology in Scotland. From my forthcoming book I hope in Bamtam (in Spanish probably), perhaps, entitled Swiss Mirrors Rule My Life, by Joanne Pocahontas Chorney (pen name of Joanne Morris Okano, ex-wife of James Okano, and the reason I put ex-wife is so that no one goes, Hey , hey, why does she call herself Chorney? Im the new wife of Allan Chorney, thats why). Hallelujah! Praise the Lord!
Posted on: Sun, 18 Jan 2015 22:41:10 +0000
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