And it begins....

This is a post that's not about work or my Triangle. (I feel the need to state that outright.)

Tonight at church Holy Week begins with the celebration of the Last Supper. For me as a singer, this means that I have church, followed by church, then some more church, for a change, church. One of my old friends, who sings at Holy Name Cathedral (and Lyric Opera) in Chicago describes this as "the Catholic Church's most theatrical week." I'm not sure that I agree with the word "theatrical." I think I would swap it out for "dramatic." This week is heavily shrouded in symbolism, which can be extremely meaningful, if you understand why each little thing is taking place. If you don't understand the why, then so many things are superfluous.

This Saturday, at the Easter Vigil, we as a congregation, have the honor of watching other adults being baptised or professing their faith in the Catholic church. This is the 10th anniversary of my Easter Vigil, as I've always thought of it. My transition from Lutheran from Catholic was not a hard one. I was describing it to someone at work this week (Mr. X took me out to lunch to ask me more about me, because he's just nice like that) and I said that when I started coming to Mass it felt like coming home, which is still how it feels.

I have 30 minutes before church and I should be warming up...

I also have a new favorite song...





This is "The Seal Lullaby" with words by Rudyard Kipling and music by Eric Whitacre. (There are some better recordings on YouTube--I picked this one because Eric Whitacre is conducting his own work and he is an amazing conductor to watch and I am in love with him.)

The text comes from the story "The White Seal," which is part of "The Jungle Book" (and a wonderful story, if you've never read it.

I think that what I like most about this piece are the accidentals, or little trills, like this

Oh! hush thee, my baby, the night is behind us,
And black are the waters that sparkled so green.
The moon, o'er the combers, looks downward to find us
At rest in the hollows that rustle between.
Where billow meets billow, then soft be thy pillow,
Ah, weary wee flipperling, curl at thy ease!
The storm shall not wake thee, nor shark overtake thee,
Asleep in the arms of the slow-swinging seas!
Asleep in the arms of the slow-swinging seas!

If you were riding in my car you would have to listen to that over and over and over--listen to it just once--it really is a beautiful song. (You are not obligated to listen to the woman at the end who starts to talk about music in Canada)

Off to get ready for church...