Candide: epilogue

I STILL don’t understand why cast and crew were excitedly whispering ‘toy, toy, toy’ and patting me on the back before the opening curtain. The mysteries of the Opera, I guess.

The remnants of Candide on my dressing table Monday morning.

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Thought you guys would get a giggle from seeing the crinkled list I carried in my bra during the show.

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My road map for Act I. Written instructions, front and back!

I had another equally descriptive list for Act II. Thought I was Mrs. Alzheimers for needing these reminders UNTIL I bumped into the experienced and talented Robert Orth (our Voltaire/Pangloss) backstage doing the exact same thing. He told me I was smart. Thanks, Bob!

The shows were wonderfully received and every person involved deserves the highest commendation. Bravi tutti or thanks all y’all. Each of the performances had its own small share of glitches. It’s LIVE theater for goodness’ sake. Hopefully, the soaring music and fun heart of the show will be what patrons remember.

My cheeks hurt from smiling so much. I will forever remember my talented cast mates and the majestic closing strains of Make Our Garden Grow. Pure bliss.

Monday morning finds me tripping the footlights in a local retirement home.

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Our group, the STARS, singing at Plemons Court.

The joys of music are universal and ageless, aren’t they?

Scott wowing the crowd with a beautiful solo.
Scott wow-ing the crowd with a beautiful solo.

I’m grateful for this transition from Candide back to normal life.

If Candide taught me anything, it’s that we gain joy and happiness from our work. Happiness comes from tilling our own soil; from laboring in the garden of our own backyard.

Amarillo Opera's chorus master, George Biffle and chorus member moi, singing Ivory Palaces.
Amarillo Opera’s chorus master, George Biffle and chorus member moi, singing Ivory Palaces at the retirement home.

The vantage point from my garden looks mighty heavenly this morning.

Let’s keep tilling.

Verdant love to all.

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