Sore feet and soaring music

My feet hurt. Pretty bad, though I currently have them in a basin of hot water and epsom salts. My hips aren't doing too well either.

But my spirit....ah, the spirit leaps into the celestial when singing, when riding that fine line between participating in the opera yet keeping one part of yourself aside to watch.

Yeah, I know I'm waxing all poetic. My feet hurt. Sue me. I have to wax poetic or I'd cry.

In all seriousness, although I grumble when we stand and stand...and stand and stand...and stand and stand waiting for some technical glitch to be worked out (or worse, waiting to "DO IT AGAIN" because we screwed up), there IS a bit of a rush when the music starts up again and we strive to put the pieces together one more time--in spite of the aching feet, persperation, and weary voices.

Tonight was technical rehearsal for L'ELISIR D'AMORE by Gaetano Donizetti. The Muddy River Opera Company performs this Friday and Sunday. Lots and lots of standing as technical issues are worked out. I hate 'em. But they're a necessary evil--you have to get all the light cues and blocking and moving of set pieces and props in the right places or it all goes right into the toilet.

But it still makes my feet hurt. I can handle the show because we're moving all the time and we're done in 2 hours. But 5 hours of standing around is a recipe for Kevin to walk funny for a while (well, funniER, anyway).

Hope you'll consider coming to see the show. No busty valkyries with horned helmets, just lighthearted fun with a snake oil salesman, a self-confident jock soldier, a pretty rich girl, her poor boyfriend, and a bunch of mangy (but happy!) townspeople who get to watch the fun as boy loses girl, jock gets girl, snake-oil salesman convinces boy of "magic elixir" (just wine, but the boy's palate apparently is not well developed), girl plays boy and jock against each other, boy gets drunk and joins jock's outfit, snake oil salesman discovers boy is now rich because of dead uncle, boy gets girl, snake oil salesman takes credit, addio!

18 bucks. Tickets at the QCT box office (thanks for the help Dominic et. al.) Be there and watch me and my dear, well-behaved children. :)

My feet feel a lot better now, and I'm still humming the music from the show.