It was during her character Vivian’s first exposure to opera.
I wasn’t wearing a Eugene Alexander red designer gown or a $250,000 ruby and diamond necklace; if I’m not mistaken, I
was wearing a pair of low-rise jeans, a black tee, $30 Lucky Brand earrings, barefoot. My surroundings weren’t the posh San Francisco Opera house, either.
Off the corner of my bedroom is a 10’x10′ room, the walls of which are painted lime green; perhaps originally it was designed to be a closet or small study. The ceiling is vaulted but slanted and there’s a floor-to-ceiling window facing east. During the day, it invites the sun into the room; at night, the moon and stars receive the same invitation, but they choose to remain at a safer distance.
While it often becomes a staging area for Things That Need To Be Taken To Goodwill, this is my creative corner, the place where my daughter and I stamp hand-made notecards. On this particular afternoon, however, I was working on an album from our 20th anniversary trip. Sitting on the floor in the eye of an intimidating 300-picture storm, I decided to play the new Paul Potts "One Chance" CD I had gotten the day before. The familiar first track is "Nessun Dorma", the song he sang during his first Britian’s Got Talent performance, the song where I became smitten with this humble man. The second song began, "Con Te Partiro" ("Time to Say Goodbye"), and I slowed my work to listen more carefully. It’s sung in Italian, so I couldn’t understand the language, but that didn’t seem to matter; I was hearing on another plane. "Amapola" is the third song, and by this point, I realized something was stirring deep within…this music was resonating in my soul. When "Everybody Hurts" ("Ognuno Soffre") began playing, I just stopped. I stopped what I was doing to fully engage the song, or rather, allow it to engage me.
It was a surreal moment…I-do-NOT-care-for-opera! I’ve always glazed over when I’ve heard pieces in the past. But not this day. It was a rare, exquisite moment when a gifted man shared his passion with me, speaking in a voice that transcended uncommon language, a voice that speaks with the heart and the soul, a voice I wish I recognized more often.
Sitting there alone in my room, I was moved nearly to tears, both bewildering and incomprehensible to me! It was then I remembered that scene in "Pretty Woman", when Vivian heard the beauty in "La Traviata"; if you recall, she didn’t need Edward (Richard Gere) to explain further–she fully appreciated the beauty and depth of the music without needing to understand the words.
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Sorry, guys…this is getting LONG! My kids are on Spring Break, I’m writing with CONSTANT interruption today, so I think I’ll pick up my thoughts in a bit. It’ll give you a break, too ;).