The sporadic ramblings of Emily C. A. Snyder - devoted to God, theatre, writing, and much randominity.

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Location: New York, New York, United States

Artistic Director and Co-Founder of TURN TO FLESH PRODUCTIONS. | Author of "Nachtstürm Castle," "Niamh and the Hermit." | Playwright: "Cupid and Psyche," "Math for Actors." | Classical director and educator.

Sunday, October 31, 2004

When the small of one's back

Is contracted to a single point of pain, we know that the Emily is stressed.

Regard the wild Emily in her native habitat: surrounded by pillows, ambiance lighting, and much technology. See her wrestle with the foreign elements known as "test" and "papers" and "red pens" and "grading" - let us discover whether the wild Emily can withstand such captivity! Deep within her jungle of wires, laundry, CD's and entirely too many books, the wild Emily prowls - casting furtive glances upward at her natural prey: the trick-or-treater. Watch her swipe the candy out of the feeding bowl, before loping down into her lair to devour the precious nourishment. Regard the wild Emily multitasking - a feature once only thought to belong to the wild Administrative Assistant. And now, the Emily - with only 20 more student's lives to ruin and torture through the Power That Is The Red Pen - stretches, works out the kinks her abused back, and settles down to gnaw on a blog or two. Yes, another day in the wild has passed - and the cameramen rejoice and demand greater union wages for the next time they are sent on such a harrowing adventure.

Anywho, the stress is slightly reduced with the realization that I only have 20 more students' quarter grades in the balance, and that I was marvelously clever and had graded more already than I had anticipated. And another blessing! The second DVD of Much Ado burned! And - out of the blue - my computer is admitting that I DO have 12 gigabytes of memory free (HA!). And the computer hasn't frozen up yet! And Madre made dinner! (Yum - chicken Marcela [sp?].) And perhaps all the little accumulating annoyances of life are doable after all. And I can only and I must only and I do only praise God, with Whom all things are possible. He reminded me of that this morning at mass, and although I believed Him intellectually, honestly I thought it was just a nice sentiment. Cha. I'm an i-doit. So, praise be to God, who really doesn't give us more than we can handle! Amen!

Peter's wearing this awesome 3/4ths cape that Jules made him yesterday. He's dressed as a highway man and cuts a very dashing figure indeed! Jules, who is dressed in her green moleskin medieval gown, is taking Peter and Tristan about. I'm staying in (and considering watching The Triplets of Bellvue tonight) and grading and grading and writing a test and grading and considering how to do the rest of the DVD's and grading and wondering whether I dare take time out to either (relaxingly - I'm so weird to think other work is relaxing) work on the next section of Brigadoon or to write a bit in The Sable Valentine or The Natural Son. But, in all honesty, I just remembered that if I've any extra time, it ought to go to King of Fools.

And may I just say again how much I LOVE!!! Autumn?!?!?!?! Yesterday, I was going to the mall, hardly cognizant, simply on autopilot, when I passed by a wall of golden leaves. My heart brimmed full and I thought of Lothlorien and Aragorn rushing through the birches to pay homage to Galadriel and I wanted the wall to go on and on and on forever. And today? Today felt just like Gaming, Austria. It sounded like Salzburg - at the Gothic & Romanesque Franciscan Church! - when the choir sang "Ave Verum Corpus" after communion. I expected to be able to step outside and see the white paths and courtyards open before me. I wanted to look up and see painted angels and saints in autumnal hues smiling down upon me. The light shone through the highest glass of the sanctuary and caught blue, green, amber on the statue of Jesus's Sacred Heart. It was lovely.

I wish I had more time to love the beauty of this world. I wish I had more memory to remember to love the beauty of this world. I rush from place to place to place on errands which are timely, which aren't fabricated, upon which others depend (and many of which I had not asked to be a part of, but found myself thrust in charge!) and I have so little time to stop and love. Again, I can see the appeal of a monastic life - although I am not called there, yet - if I am called there.

Life is good. This I must remember. Life is good and God is good and all IS well and all will be well and all will be well and all manner of thing shall be well.

Mood: My back still aches, but otherwise pas mal
Music: Gaelic Storm Tree "New York Girls (Can't You Dance the Polka)"
Thought: Happy Irish Music for Everybody!

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