I should explain the title.
Opera: Originally from the Latin opus, opera. 1) Work, works. 2) Grand art form; demands immense patience, cooperation, self-reliance, self-knowledge, creativity, talent, charisma, and sheer force of will.
Ex: From Latin; out of, from.
Patria: From Latin; homeland, country, fatherland.
I work far from my country of birth. I perform works of grand art far from my fatherland, although am not always able to render their grandiosity. I am an expatriate. I am female. I am occasionally plural. I am often pluralistic. I am a recovering Latin nerd.
I left my place of birth in 2007 to pursue a career in the world of professional classical music as a singer. I have performed on stages large and small, pieces eternal and (mercifully) flash-in-the-pan. I hear no far more often than I hear yes. I learned how to pack light. I try to be brave.
This is a new year, a new experiment, a new start. This is the end of things, the withdrawing tide, the turning wheel.
I miss writing; I miss the challenge of creating from nothing. Write what you know. I know how to sing. I have one night stands with languages, make twenty-four hour friends with novels, but I know who I come home to at night. For the past seven years, I have been submerged in singing. I act as a conduit for someone else’s words, through the filter of someone else’s music. It consumes what it requires. It eats more than it metabolises.
I can’t promise to always be clear, articulate, or to speak in layman’s terms. I understand that one day, perhaps, there will be an audience. All I wish is to set down the thoughts and experiences of this time, in this mind, in this job.