This ship has been drifting for a while now. We left the Law dockyards some time ago - as you may have read - but we haven't put into port anywhere else yet. This sense of being rudderless has recently become more unsettling to me, which I think is progress!
To leap from one clumsy metaphor to another with the grace of a hungover hippo, I'd say that up until a couple of months ago I have been wading grimly through the swamps of Right Now with occasional foreys into the marshland of Later This Week. The shining far away land of The Future has appeared continuously out of reach and out of focus with the perspective never shifting.
In the swamps and marshes of Right Now and Later This Week there is quite simply no room for existential doubt or identity crisis. That treacherous terrain is littered with immediate and pressing mysteries that you step on, like horrible booby traps, unsupecting.
Great mysteries like
"why sandwiches are wrong today even though they are identical to those made yesterday",
"how on earth are we going to get the Boy on his school bus today when he is refusing to get out of bed let alone dress and eat breakfast?"
and my personal favorite, a wily hit and run terrorist that smacks you between the eyes and leaves you reeling
"why is the whole world wrong with no apparent trigger or remedy".
Ok. You get the point. Parenting a child with autism takes a huge amount of what can be summed up as "emotional capital". For a couple of years we have been simply getting on with it and hanging in there. Just about.
But we are emerging from the swamps. We don't look pretty but we have survived. Our beautiful Boy is now at a wonderful special school and is transformed in two terms. We have an amazing autism assistance dog from Dogs for the Disabled about whom I blog here and said Wonderdog changed our life in his first four weeks with us - and continues to make every single day brighter and easier.
And so now I've started to emerge blinking into the daylight and sniff the air like an autism assistance dog looking for buried cat poo (don't ask) and so I am starting to look towards The Future. And my clumsily metaphorical rudderless ship is therefore drifting perilously close to the looming iceberg of What Shall I Do With My Life.
Answers on a postcard*
(*Clue: NOT be a lawyer)
Tuesday 23 April 2013
Saturday 18 August 2012
Ah, Carmen!!
I can now officially say I have sung my first complete opera role live in performance of the actual opera itself!! (Albeit an abridged version). The resume now includes "Frasquita" in Bizet's Carmen and it was one heck of an experience.
We had seven rehearsals in total - five with principals only and two with the chorus who had been rehearsing seperately for longer. Of those seven rehearsals our lovely leading lady was, unfortunately unable to actually sing due to illness for three or four and as the problem failed to resolve, she couldn't make the one night only performance either - with about 4 days notice.
We were sad for her, but no time to dwell on that as we all had to ensure we were absolutely focussed in order to support the professional mezzo parachuted in to carry the show. No easy task to be a last minute stand in for the title role of the whole opera - although I can see from various programme notes that in the professional world these "einspringen" are fairly matter of course.
The life of an opera singer seems to be beset by the risk of illness, the effect of illness and recovery from illness and my twitter timeline is strewn with singers gutted that they have had to drop stuff, singers standing in for other singers who are ill and operagoers sharing information about who is standing in for who!
Our replacement leading lady appeared in the final rehearsal as if by magic several pages into the quintet - and if you have ever sung one of the five characters who sing it, you know the it as the one that everyone calls the quintet. (Or to give it it's full names "Every time I've directed this it has taken ages to get right" "This is fiendishly difficult to sing" or "Don't worry it will fall apart when we first put movement with it" and "Do you want to go over that one more time"). She simply appeared vocally at precisely the right moment, singing a totally different english translation from the one we were using but not being thrown by that at all. Good start.
All the singers - many of us not professional - rose to the challenge and I think we all enjoyed ourselves enormously. Our Carmen was great, totally relaxed and unfazed.
Thankfully we did have a stage manager for the night who knew who should be where and with what props - quite a challenge for a "semi staged" (read "actually in full costume, with movement & props") production on a concert hall stage. I know she will remember fondly the broken table - unfortunately the tenor bullfighter hadn't got that message so leapt onto it with gusto. Talk about rapt attention - Escamillo has never been watched so carefully by Frasquita & Mercedes (with legs wedged under the table legs). Am sure she also enjoyed running round the building Benny Hill style with three gipsies and a bullfighter trying to find the correct unlocked door for the final entry.........
The show was exhilaratingly successful and extremely well received and for both those things I feel profoundly relieved and not at all personally responsible!
I loved every minute and I still can't really believe I did it. The chance to sing Frasquita was fantastic - I hope to have the opportunity to sing roles rather than arias in future.
Watch this space!
We had seven rehearsals in total - five with principals only and two with the chorus who had been rehearsing seperately for longer. Of those seven rehearsals our lovely leading lady was, unfortunately unable to actually sing due to illness for three or four and as the problem failed to resolve, she couldn't make the one night only performance either - with about 4 days notice.
We were sad for her, but no time to dwell on that as we all had to ensure we were absolutely focussed in order to support the professional mezzo parachuted in to carry the show. No easy task to be a last minute stand in for the title role of the whole opera - although I can see from various programme notes that in the professional world these "einspringen" are fairly matter of course.
The life of an opera singer seems to be beset by the risk of illness, the effect of illness and recovery from illness and my twitter timeline is strewn with singers gutted that they have had to drop stuff, singers standing in for other singers who are ill and operagoers sharing information about who is standing in for who!
Our replacement leading lady appeared in the final rehearsal as if by magic several pages into the quintet - and if you have ever sung one of the five characters who sing it, you know the it as the one that everyone calls the quintet. (Or to give it it's full names "Every time I've directed this it has taken ages to get right" "This is fiendishly difficult to sing" or "Don't worry it will fall apart when we first put movement with it" and "Do you want to go over that one more time"). She simply appeared vocally at precisely the right moment, singing a totally different english translation from the one we were using but not being thrown by that at all. Good start.
All the singers - many of us not professional - rose to the challenge and I think we all enjoyed ourselves enormously. Our Carmen was great, totally relaxed and unfazed.
Thankfully we did have a stage manager for the night who knew who should be where and with what props - quite a challenge for a "semi staged" (read "actually in full costume, with movement & props") production on a concert hall stage. I know she will remember fondly the broken table - unfortunately the tenor bullfighter hadn't got that message so leapt onto it with gusto. Talk about rapt attention - Escamillo has never been watched so carefully by Frasquita & Mercedes (with legs wedged under the table legs). Am sure she also enjoyed running round the building Benny Hill style with three gipsies and a bullfighter trying to find the correct unlocked door for the final entry.........
The show was exhilaratingly successful and extremely well received and for both those things I feel profoundly relieved and not at all personally responsible!
I loved every minute and I still can't really believe I did it. The chance to sing Frasquita was fantastic - I hope to have the opportunity to sing roles rather than arias in future.
Watch this space!
Wednesday 11 July 2012
Taken down in evidence....2012 resolutions
At the start of this year I began a draft blog post about my resolutions for the year. As we are somewhat past the halfway point I found it quite illuminating to reflect on them:
"I have always found the idea of a fresh new start, a clean slate, those optimistic rose tinted resolutions very beguiling! I usually set myself some pleasingly sweeping and unrealistic targets, which I then have to re-examine after, on average, two weeks.
So this year, what should I resolve on now that I am definitely Not A Lawyer........I don't have career goals in the way that I used to. But then, really is the way that I approach life so very different these days? No. I still have aspirations, goals, targets, and HUGE areas for improvement!!
I'd like to tackle the impertinent weeds growing up through my previously attractive gravel patch in the garden. It currently looks like a disheveled and unloved scruff in need of a haircut."
And that was it.
I can confirm (smugly) that I have tackled the weeds. But why didn't I record any other major aspirations or tricky little targets? Didn't I have any? Perhaps I ran out of time to write them down.
Well I don't think that was it - and of course I did and do have aspirations. This just over half a year has been pretty satisfying from an achievement point of view. I've enjoyed singing in a run of The Gondoliers, and expanded my operatic concert repertoire. I even sang my first proper opera role (Frasquita in Carmen) just this month. And I felt like I'd climbed Everest (and, admittedly, as if I had been hit by a train).
On the parenting and autism front we've been on autism parent training, successfully made & implemented MAJOR decisions about The Boy's education and have some other exciting news which I could talk about but I'd have to swear you all to secrecy! (NO, not a bun in the oven). And our beautiful daughter is now getting some support as a sibling of SEN and she and I are having a blast spending girls-only time together (she made me ride the Sonic Spinball rollercoaster at Alton Towers and I threw up in my mouth a little bit. Good times).
But why didn't I record any other goals or resolutions?
Well, I think probably because if there was any one motto that typifies this year it would be (say it with me) "one day at a time" - if you want to get King James on it "sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof".
I don't know what each day will hold. But I know I can get through it and I usually have strategies these days of how that is going to happen. And that will do for me. For now.
(But I want to sing Susanna in the Marriage of Figaro in the next year or two, so there!)
"I have always found the idea of a fresh new start, a clean slate, those optimistic rose tinted resolutions very beguiling! I usually set myself some pleasingly sweeping and unrealistic targets, which I then have to re-examine after, on average, two weeks.
So this year, what should I resolve on now that I am definitely Not A Lawyer........I don't have career goals in the way that I used to. But then, really is the way that I approach life so very different these days? No. I still have aspirations, goals, targets, and HUGE areas for improvement!!
I'd like to tackle the impertinent weeds growing up through my previously attractive gravel patch in the garden. It currently looks like a disheveled and unloved scruff in need of a haircut."
And that was it.
I can confirm (smugly) that I have tackled the weeds. But why didn't I record any other major aspirations or tricky little targets? Didn't I have any? Perhaps I ran out of time to write them down.
Well I don't think that was it - and of course I did and do have aspirations. This just over half a year has been pretty satisfying from an achievement point of view. I've enjoyed singing in a run of The Gondoliers, and expanded my operatic concert repertoire. I even sang my first proper opera role (Frasquita in Carmen) just this month. And I felt like I'd climbed Everest (and, admittedly, as if I had been hit by a train).
On the parenting and autism front we've been on autism parent training, successfully made & implemented MAJOR decisions about The Boy's education and have some other exciting news which I could talk about but I'd have to swear you all to secrecy! (NO, not a bun in the oven). And our beautiful daughter is now getting some support as a sibling of SEN and she and I are having a blast spending girls-only time together (she made me ride the Sonic Spinball rollercoaster at Alton Towers and I threw up in my mouth a little bit. Good times).
But why didn't I record any other goals or resolutions?
Well, I think probably because if there was any one motto that typifies this year it would be (say it with me) "one day at a time" - if you want to get King James on it "sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof".
I don't know what each day will hold. But I know I can get through it and I usually have strategies these days of how that is going to happen. And that will do for me. For now.
(But I want to sing Susanna in the Marriage of Figaro in the next year or two, so there!)
Tuesday 3 July 2012
Olympics with a difference
It's impossible to miss a certain sporting event coming along this Summer.....yes the 2012 Olympics, closely to be followed by the Paralympics.
As a parent of a neurotypical child and a child with a disability I look forward to both events very much - they provide lots of opportunity to enjoy celebrating human endeavour and achievement & discuss winning, losing, doing your best, overcoming obstacles, being different, being exceptional etc with my children.
But I did indulge in an idle daydream about what an Olympics would look like with events geared towards the Autistic Spectrum Disorder..............perhaps other parents of autism may recognise some of these:
1) the 100m dash - for parents of "bolters" (those autistic children with a propensity to simply run) - there will be no track and parents will be expected to both run at speed (probably in unsuitable clothing and carrying bags) but also to predict the required direction of travel. The starting "pistol" will be a very high or low frequency sound not usually audible to those with typical sensitivity to sound - this adds an additional element of skill as the children will set off according to their own sound sensitivity at different times.
2) Long jump - competitors will be those children whose sensory needs do not mean that they are highly avoidant of the horrendous feel of the sand OR whose sensory needs do not mean that they will require on average 2.5 hours to sit in the sandpit running their hands through the sand. In the event that there are fewer than 4 eligible competitors, the three medals will be handed out on the basis of height. Don't argue - it makes sense if you are autistic (children will be stood on the podia so that their heights are as close to equal as possible taking into account the different height platforms)
3) Swimming - individual events will include the time trial (competitors must successfully persuade their child to leave the water and get dressed inside a 120 minute time limit - as with showjumping, time penalties will be added for each "refusal") and synchronised bubble blowing and squealing.
4) New event: Speed event - competitors must correctly identify what their child wants and deliver said item from an infinite menu before child erupts into frustration meltdown (*nb organisers recognise that due to the specific nature of ASD & lack of theory of mind, such children often cannot understand that their parents do not simply know what they want and therefore many competitors will be disqualified as their child will have had a meltdown before even attempting to verbally or otherwise communicate their need - in which case default criteria applies and any parent who survives the event without crying/locking themselves in athlete portaloo wins a medal)
EVENT QUALIFYING CRITERIA:
Endurance events- you parent a child with autism, thus you are disqualified from the Olympic endurance events by reason of your professional status.
Drugs: Competitors will be screened but the following will be ignored- if it's legal and helps you and your GP is happy with it - it's fine by us.
We recommend that all competitors take multi vitamins as malnutrition is found so commonly among competitors in this category.
Please note that NO competitors will be required to attend the visually stunning, aurally overpowering opening ceremony. Why would we DO that???
See you on the podium!
As a parent of a neurotypical child and a child with a disability I look forward to both events very much - they provide lots of opportunity to enjoy celebrating human endeavour and achievement & discuss winning, losing, doing your best, overcoming obstacles, being different, being exceptional etc with my children.
But I did indulge in an idle daydream about what an Olympics would look like with events geared towards the Autistic Spectrum Disorder..............perhaps other parents of autism may recognise some of these:
1) the 100m dash - for parents of "bolters" (those autistic children with a propensity to simply run) - there will be no track and parents will be expected to both run at speed (probably in unsuitable clothing and carrying bags) but also to predict the required direction of travel. The starting "pistol" will be a very high or low frequency sound not usually audible to those with typical sensitivity to sound - this adds an additional element of skill as the children will set off according to their own sound sensitivity at different times.
2) Long jump - competitors will be those children whose sensory needs do not mean that they are highly avoidant of the horrendous feel of the sand OR whose sensory needs do not mean that they will require on average 2.5 hours to sit in the sandpit running their hands through the sand. In the event that there are fewer than 4 eligible competitors, the three medals will be handed out on the basis of height. Don't argue - it makes sense if you are autistic (children will be stood on the podia so that their heights are as close to equal as possible taking into account the different height platforms)
3) Swimming - individual events will include the time trial (competitors must successfully persuade their child to leave the water and get dressed inside a 120 minute time limit - as with showjumping, time penalties will be added for each "refusal") and synchronised bubble blowing and squealing.
4) New event: Speed event - competitors must correctly identify what their child wants and deliver said item from an infinite menu before child erupts into frustration meltdown (*nb organisers recognise that due to the specific nature of ASD & lack of theory of mind, such children often cannot understand that their parents do not simply know what they want and therefore many competitors will be disqualified as their child will have had a meltdown before even attempting to verbally or otherwise communicate their need - in which case default criteria applies and any parent who survives the event without crying/locking themselves in athlete portaloo wins a medal)
EVENT QUALIFYING CRITERIA:
Endurance events- you parent a child with autism, thus you are disqualified from the Olympic endurance events by reason of your professional status.
Drugs: Competitors will be screened but the following will be ignored- if it's legal and helps you and your GP is happy with it - it's fine by us.
We recommend that all competitors take multi vitamins as malnutrition is found so commonly among competitors in this category.
Please note that NO competitors will be required to attend the visually stunning, aurally overpowering opening ceremony. Why would we DO that???
See you on the podium!
Monday 23 January 2012
The roar of the greasepaint...
Dear Reader,
It's that time again when I enjoy immersing myself in the turbulent waters of stage & singing until only my nostrils remain visible above the surface and my children start to invert their usual behavior patterns by pushing past me to ask Mr Life After Law to fulfil their every despotic whim.
Yes: SHOW TIME! Which means I have been imagining that I am actually in the Biz for real by swanning about during the day "resting" (ie ignoring the -to me- unacceptable level of misfiling of kitchen utensils and bedroom floor clothes hanging) so that I have all my faculties about me each evening when I transport myself to another time and place and wear an improbably large wig while singing about love interests swapped at birth.....I am, however, assured by Actual Proper Singers that the swanning about all day is not a luxury available to those who do earn their crust by singing for their suppers!
Mr Life After Law is now officially and permanently to be known as World's Best Husband for parental fortitude above and beyond the call of duty. Due to a slightly longer than usual commute to the theatre, WBH has been engaging the enemy (Operation Bedtime) on land, sea and in the air - battle-weary yet triumphant he and the children have emerged into the pale light of a new entente cordiale in which I promise not to go off singing at bedtime for a little bit.
Usually the end of show week is marked by a terrible case of post-show blues, which in its most severe manifestation led, recently, to the creation of Random Opera Company by friend and fellow blogger baritone, Richard Jones - I may have egged him on every so slightly.
However, this year, thanks to the promise/threat of future engagements and the learning of repertoire required, I'm not feeling too much like the fun is all over. Time to banish the old from my brain and embrace the new, which thanks to the ready availability of recordings I can start in the length of time it takes to say "one click ordering"......so here we go.Handel, and Mozart and Bizet, Oh My!
It's that time again when I enjoy immersing myself in the turbulent waters of stage & singing until only my nostrils remain visible above the surface and my children start to invert their usual behavior patterns by pushing past me to ask Mr Life After Law to fulfil their every despotic whim.
Yes: SHOW TIME! Which means I have been imagining that I am actually in the Biz for real by swanning about during the day "resting" (ie ignoring the -to me- unacceptable level of misfiling of kitchen utensils and bedroom floor clothes hanging) so that I have all my faculties about me each evening when I transport myself to another time and place and wear an improbably large wig while singing about love interests swapped at birth.....I am, however, assured by Actual Proper Singers that the swanning about all day is not a luxury available to those who do earn their crust by singing for their suppers!
Mr Life After Law is now officially and permanently to be known as World's Best Husband for parental fortitude above and beyond the call of duty. Due to a slightly longer than usual commute to the theatre, WBH has been engaging the enemy (Operation Bedtime) on land, sea and in the air - battle-weary yet triumphant he and the children have emerged into the pale light of a new entente cordiale in which I promise not to go off singing at bedtime for a little bit.
Usually the end of show week is marked by a terrible case of post-show blues, which in its most severe manifestation led, recently, to the creation of Random Opera Company by friend and fellow blogger baritone, Richard Jones - I may have egged him on every so slightly.
However, this year, thanks to the promise/threat of future engagements and the learning of repertoire required, I'm not feeling too much like the fun is all over. Time to banish the old from my brain and embrace the new, which thanks to the ready availability of recordings I can start in the length of time it takes to say "one click ordering"......so here we go.Handel, and Mozart and Bizet, Oh My!
Sunday 1 January 2012
Christmas spirit...
I LOVE Christmas!! I would coat myself in gingerbread syrup and roll in tinsel if I could! Fa la la la la, la la la la!! I grew up with wonderful festive feel good traditions - thanks to my I-just-don't-know-how-she-did-it-without-falling-down-from-exhaustion mum.
All through my childhood Christmas has been all about family, amazing food, and loving one another, and being too competetive at board games.
I love to hear about other people's Christmas traditions. Like, does ANYONE else have lemon jelly to serve with their Christmas pudding? And does anyone else find that Boxing Day must include a baked ham?
I was lucky enough to be introduced to another family's Christmas traditions when I first met World's Best Husband's family - or as I shall them here, the Wonderful In-laws. Wonderful-father-in-law being a vicar Christmas is all about celebrating the good news together with your Church family (and, admittedly, sherry).
So whatever your personal beliefs or traditions, I hope that this winter festival/celebration is a time when you can reflect on happy memories, and create some new ones.
All through my childhood Christmas has been all about family, amazing food, and loving one another, and being too competetive at board games.
I love to hear about other people's Christmas traditions. Like, does ANYONE else have lemon jelly to serve with their Christmas pudding? And does anyone else find that Boxing Day must include a baked ham?
I was lucky enough to be introduced to another family's Christmas traditions when I first met World's Best Husband's family - or as I shall them here, the Wonderful In-laws. Wonderful-father-in-law being a vicar Christmas is all about celebrating the good news together with your Church family (and, admittedly, sherry).
So whatever your personal beliefs or traditions, I hope that this winter festival/celebration is a time when you can reflect on happy memories, and create some new ones.
Thursday 15 December 2011
What a difference a year makes......
I realised that I failed to celebrate or even notice the auspicious first anniversary of blogging about Life After Law (9th December 2010) but now that my brain has caught up (I've been watching a *lot* of Nativity plays) I have reflected a little on the last year since I wrote that first blog post.
Much has changed. The littlest Non Lawyer has had a phenomenal year since I started blogging. We've had a diagnosis (finally) of Autistic Spectrum Disorder and at the same time a year where his inclusion and achievement at school has exceeded our wildest expectations. Simultaneously, surreptitiously, some of the aspects of living with autism have become more pronounced, distinctive, obvious and challenging - and of course we've all been managing it all for another 12 months. So sometimes we feel a bit tired. But nothing could have prepared us for the unbelievable sense of triumph we feel on his behalf - the shared elation that we the parents and Big Sister feel for him when he, for example, takes part in his Nativity play in costume, on stage and joins in - or, actually, just as huge - wears his own clothes to school on non-uniform day (because school not in uniform was Just Wrong for a long time).
I've come to terms with the conclusive (mutually goodwilled) formal severing of contractual relations with The Firm and the lapse of my inclusion on the roll of solicitors because instead of filling out a "keep me on the list" form I filled out complicated statement of special educational needs documents. It's almost as if Lawyer Me never was! (Almost, you can take the girl out of the law......)
I've had space and time to adapt to all the roles my life includes today: wife, mother, carer, ASD "expert" (self taught), volunteer barista & waitress (a satisfying improvement on my university era attempts at the coffee waitressing role- think Rachel in Friends!), youthwork administrator, friend. Singer. The question "what do you do" (real meaning "who are you") is still hard to answer. (Occasionally I just Can't Help Myself and answer "lion tamer")
I have also reached another anniversary - the passing of 12 months since I began studying with Wonderful Singing Teacher. I've learned a huge amount (at least a thousand times or more still to learn) about singing technique, performance, the unexpected (and colourful) perils and pitfalls of going into the opera business. But more than that I've learned how important music is to me - how vital singing is to my ability to understand myself enough to answer the question "who am I" - and that is whether anyone else hears it or not (tree falling in the forest etc, very "zen")
So what next? Dear reader, you will have to watch this space. But I'll be singing as I go. While my hyper
-sensitive-to-sound autistic child asks me to keep it down!
Much has changed. The littlest Non Lawyer has had a phenomenal year since I started blogging. We've had a diagnosis (finally) of Autistic Spectrum Disorder and at the same time a year where his inclusion and achievement at school has exceeded our wildest expectations. Simultaneously, surreptitiously, some of the aspects of living with autism have become more pronounced, distinctive, obvious and challenging - and of course we've all been managing it all for another 12 months. So sometimes we feel a bit tired. But nothing could have prepared us for the unbelievable sense of triumph we feel on his behalf - the shared elation that we the parents and Big Sister feel for him when he, for example, takes part in his Nativity play in costume, on stage and joins in - or, actually, just as huge - wears his own clothes to school on non-uniform day (because school not in uniform was Just Wrong for a long time).
I've come to terms with the conclusive (mutually goodwilled) formal severing of contractual relations with The Firm and the lapse of my inclusion on the roll of solicitors because instead of filling out a "keep me on the list" form I filled out complicated statement of special educational needs documents. It's almost as if Lawyer Me never was! (Almost, you can take the girl out of the law......)
I've had space and time to adapt to all the roles my life includes today: wife, mother, carer, ASD "expert" (self taught), volunteer barista & waitress (a satisfying improvement on my university era attempts at the coffee waitressing role- think Rachel in Friends!), youthwork administrator, friend. Singer. The question "what do you do" (real meaning "who are you") is still hard to answer. (Occasionally I just Can't Help Myself and answer "lion tamer")
I have also reached another anniversary - the passing of 12 months since I began studying with Wonderful Singing Teacher. I've learned a huge amount (at least a thousand times or more still to learn) about singing technique, performance, the unexpected (and colourful) perils and pitfalls of going into the opera business. But more than that I've learned how important music is to me - how vital singing is to my ability to understand myself enough to answer the question "who am I" - and that is whether anyone else hears it or not (tree falling in the forest etc, very "zen")
So what next? Dear reader, you will have to watch this space. But I'll be singing as I go. While my hyper
-sensitive-to-sound autistic child asks me to keep it down!
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