opera: catharsis in the dark? / poem 87

I began my day with no food or even decaf since I was due into my doctor’s office for a fasting blood test. I told him next lifetime I will not have dinky veins. Finding a vein and the first stab is the worst part. His scale, of course, showed me a few pounds heavier than mine at home. Other than these, the visit went well.

I am checking in on a friend’s dog and cat while she and her partner are gone for the weekend. Besides the fact that I had the time and adore animals, I had a nice perk — a pool! So I took an issue of the Advocate, and caught up on some gay news. Lots of hot boy ads but I did learn a thing or two. I hopped in the pool a few times. In, adjusted to the water, splashed around, then out to read and dry until I got hot, then the cycle began anew. How relaxing to have a deck and pool to myself! I’ll do this anytime.

Since I had my aunt’s memorial Thursday, I had to switch my opera ticket to the grand — and more expensive — Saturday night spectacle. Call me grumpy but I hate waiting what seems like forever to get out of the parking lot afterward. I’m going to go early and hunt for some free parking on the street. I love Verdi — he is so dramatic and passionate even if the plots don’t always make much sense. I have long gotten over this part of opera. It’s about the music and the grandiosity and fickleness of human nature. Sort of like watching karma on stage. I am going by myself and that’s okay. When I had to switch nights, I also had to trade up to a better seat. Still, I’m in the gallery so I’ll bring those opera glasses I bought at the Chicago Lyric Opera years ago when I realized how much trouble I’d gone to drive there, get expensive tickets yet still not be able to see Renee Fleming very well. Tonight these glasses will pay off here at Music Hall.

opera

what is it about the drama and pathos?
am I witnessing a microcosm of life
and getting catharsis in the dark?

Indian spices, the 50th poem (of the magical number 108)

Today I accompanied my friend Veena to Columbus to do a favor for her daughter at Ohio State. Although we had cds to play, we didn’t get to any on the drive up. We talked at length, catching up with our longer stories — too long to slip in a quick phone call or after satsang at the meditation center.

We stopped to shop at the Jeffersonville Outlet stores. I bought a badly needed pair of jeans and a cool pair of casual, almost gym shoes. We shared a latte for the ride home.

Then she fed me dinner. Wonderful homemade Indian food. She walked me through the preparation. I especially loved the little round metal open containers filled with spices unique to Indian food. I knew what some of them were; she helped me with the rest.

spices

notice the spices roll around on your tongue.
at first not too hot, then as taste travels to the back,
the heat flushes all your karma clean (if only it were that simple)