The Exquisite Corpse.

Whatever my suspicions of a collaborative effort, including herein my superfluous admission of the supernatural, I can't imagine her going any other way. She was not interested in downtime, her body was not up to her ambitions, and falling is what she talked about it doing when we spoke two days prior.

Thank you?

Here is an extremist statement: I've lost all joy in the world and writing this was one of those joys.

And then I go on to write:

I thought I covered this problem.

Sleep deprivation leaves me without an iota of an idea. Just let me sleep. Competent filmmakers don't consider this problem because they don't have it. They know how to care for themselves and they do. The only person interested is the one who needs to sleep.

What am I saying? When I imagine that people know how to care for themselves, what I am saying is that I know how, and I'm just not because I'm punishing myself, diffusing what I fear is potential punishment from another. I'm sorry.

"Just SAYING it can even make it happen."

I remain flabbergasted by the concept of my grandmother tripping and dying. She only had one head impact, a single bruise in the lower left corner of her head, not even a fracture. There were only a few steps after the bottom landing where she fell. It is inconceivable to me that she could have let herself fall backwards. To fall back with that hard an impact, her feet had to slip forward, as if someone pulled a rug out from under her.

The fact remains, every day is a gift.

Margaret Carillo insisted my sister and I call her Nanny because she was never old enough to be a Grandmother. Well, this is a most elegant and formidable Nanny. She was born Domenica Giovaniello in New York City on March 15th, 1905, and for 100 years and 97 days she existed here.

I can’t begin to express our love for her. Thank you for your love and support during these days since our loss of her.

While our manner of departure still remains a mystery, the mystery of Nanny’s departure was solved on June 20th, 2005. Until then her presence never wavered, she was fully present in the fragility of consciousness, with hers as powerful as it had ever been, it being an authentic awareness of self-manifested wisdom and experience.

In terms of her age, because she was only a hundred, shrinking size can only go so far in consolidating the physical being, and the mind can only go so far in compensating for weakening senses. She spoke with me on Saturday, prophetically as it turned out. She was becoming restless and her body was not up to her plans. No one could take charge of her being, and when they tried, she rebelled. She remains a rebel to this day.

Energy is neither created nor destroyed, and on June 20th, hers dispersed, first into mom, her daughter, and now, we are all its recipients.

I had my whole life to take advantage of her, although having the greater benefit of actually getting to know her did eventually dawn on me. She could be selflessly generous, because she had the ability, willingness and natural organization skills to take care of her family without, and this she insisted upon, without burdening them. Her sensitivity to being a burden is outrageous even today.

Hers was a private presence, shared one person at a time, shared through us, and beholden to us, her family. Yet she was first and foremost her own lady. She took care of herself, and of us, too. We’re the echoes of her greatness.

Let’s acknowledge her presence in us, passing into others, as we will as well. Let’s welcome the release of her presence into the universe. The mystery of how her spirit will be released is solved, in time on Monday, June 20th, 2005, the end of spring on a full moon solstice day. Her spirit lives in Madeleine, Nicholas, Monica, Peter, Diana, Danny, Polar Bear. It is a responsibility and an inspiration for us as it blends with us, even as our generations echo what they were.

Thank you, Nanny. I love you. God, please help her adjust to her new presence in the universe.

The iterations of digital music resemble the frames of moving pictures. The persistence of hearing, of all our senses, is why we allow those iterations to mimic reality.

A tremolo of a note, of a frequency, offers wider presence in the audial spectrum, so, folks, spread out in microtones.

Effective tremolo produces a frequency strong enough to vibrate a needle as it cuts into acetate.

Subj:
Re: Coppelia
Date:
3/2/2005 11:32:04 PM Eastern Standard Time
From:
Dizozza600
To:
JefHilburn@aol.com Hi, Jeff, From Mapquest I see that Mukilteo must be very beautiful. What brought you there? Tell me about your class. I can offer you the script and some incidental music. The script continues beyond the ballet story to include a second withdrawal of Franz into Dr. Coppelius's world of dolls, and the further charade of Swanilda who arranges for Franz to unknowingly sire a batallion of children while in there. The children eventually march in to disassemble the Dr.'s dollshop and drag Franz out to be their father... Some of the language requires modification for high school students....Thank you for your inquiry.Best regards, Peter Dizozza917-915-7635. In a message dated 3/2/2005 11:09:06 PM Eastern Standard Time, JefHilburn@aol.com writes:
Hello, I just wanted to write and find out more about your script for Coppelia. I realize it's now been a few years ago for you, but I am considering it as a project for one of my high school classes. Not for profit, or even for public consumption, but am wondering if your script is available? Thanks for your time, Jeff HilburnKamiak High School Stagecraft TeacherMukilteo, Washington

Dear Professor Haine,

Thank you for your email.

As theatre director of The Williamsburg Art and Historical Center I was commissioned to create a musical theatre piece to run concurrent with its 2003 International Surrealist Exhibition, "Brave Destiny." That project is the US version of "Les Maries de la Tour Eiffel," so I placed it in front of a US monument with French influence. The symbology of this monument resulted in my play being more inspired by, then an adaptation of "Les Maries de la Tour Eiffel." In addition to the concept and script I also provided an original score consisting of three dances and three songs.

The Statue of Liberty is on Bedloe Island near Manhattan. Ferries daily carry tourists there. What the statue represents is not without controversy because our U.S. welcoming of immigrants has, sadly, become more guarded, not to mention the fact that since September 11th, 2001, the statue itself remained closed to visitors for security reasons. It was partially reopened in August of 2004.

The question of who officiates the marriage of "Bride" and "Groom" is what "The Marriage at the Statue of Liberty" is about, with Ms. Liberty herself, completing the ceremony. It is night. The last tour boat leaves. The still unmarried couple remains on Bedloe Island, but are they alone? As a seagull is about to fly into her copper frame, Ms. Liberty flexes her body to allow it to safely pass. Since she sees the gull, she must be able to see us, reasons the couple below. Where others have failed, Ms. Liberty will prevail. She comes to life to complete the ceremony. The couple is married at last! Bride and Groom are Old World supplicants of Colossus. Having found one another, they seek new world religious independence to sanctify their new bond to one another. They escape from their cloister. Vulcan, the God of Fire, shields them. He discovers they suffer from "The Mortal Tedium of Immortality" (Cocteau's line at the end of "Blood of a Poet.") Vulcan advises the couple that to marry they must regain their mortality, and to do so they must pass through the eternal flame. And where is the eternal flame? The nearest eternal flame is in the torch held by the New Colossus (as Emma Lazarus calls her), The Statue of Liberty.

Unwilling to lose supplicants, Colossus and his eternally unmarried fiancée, Colossa, masquerading as tourists, go chasing after Bride and Groom to scuttle their marriage ceremony.

A DVD of the 2003 production is available, featuring the beautiful nocturne that concludes the play. I am not sure about TV compatibility but it will be playable on your computer.

My previous effort to pay homage to Cocteau may be found in my monologue with song cycle entitled, "Doping the Blood of a Poet."

As a composer, I would love to add to the occurrences of Cocteau texts set to music, and will be honored if you would suggest a text for me to set.

Very truly yours, Peter Dizozza

Separate Attachment: The performance program including ballet descriptions.

Dear Mr Peter Dizozza, I am writing a Catalogue of Jean Cocteau’s Texts set to music. So far I have recorded some 600 occurrences. I came across your production Marriage at the Statue of Liberty which is inspired by Cocteau’s play. I would like to ask you a few questions: 1°/ Could you please tell me what parts of Cocteau’s play you kept in your production, or if your play is completely something else. As far as the characters are concerned, I could see that some of them were kept (Bride, Groom). 2°/ On which translation of the play did you base your production? 3°/ As to the music, I heard some of it on the web site (www.cinemavii.com...) but how many parts are written in your production? Do they correspond to the 3 main parts of the ballet? 4°/ Is it possible to receive a program and some press reviews? 5°/ I would appreciate any sort of information about your play that seems so interesting. Thank you in advance, Yours faithfully, Prof. Dr Malou HaineConservateur du MIM1 rue Villa Hermosa1000 Bruxelles - Tél. 00.32.(0)2.545.01.36Professeur à l'ULBDirecteur de la Collection "Musique/Musicologie", éditions Mardagawww.malouhaine.be

Separating us from chaos is The Law. I love the Law.

I woke up one morning in a restless daze,
My life had hit an impasse as an office aide.
I went at night to law school, and it changed my ways to a
Player from one who is played.

Adverse litigation is the path I choose.
Contingent is my fee on if I win or lose.
It’s not to win or lose, it’s how you play the game.
The law’s a jealous mistress,
In time I came to love the

Law, I love the
Law. Professors
Asked in Law School
Do you love the
Law? I love the
Law. I love the
Law. I love it.
No one is above it.

Please approach but not too close
Let us go forth.
Some requests are useless ‘gainst fate.
Fate, defer to precedent. What’s your case worth?
Would you rather hurry and wait? Then

Close your eyes, imagine how it was before
And see a world in turmoil crying, "Nevermore!"
The skills of legal practice are like flags unfurled,
We’re citizens of the world.

We guide and shape the future from the courthouse steps.
The past is but the history of our records kept.
Rewritten as a footnote, there is only this
Separating us from chaos, It’s the

Law. It’s the
Law. I love the
Law. I love it.
No one is above the
Law? I love the
Law I love the
Law. Great peace have they who love the Law. Peter Dizozza 1/23/05

December 30th, 2004 THE PENULTIMATE DAY OF THE YEAR
Do we go right along as we always do?
Or next year will we change the way we wanted to?
I’ve been feeling less than certain since the year began.
Did we learn? Did we try?
In a year set for change but a day is left
To unite the division of change bereft.
Opportunity demands a unity
To connect one and all.

January began with an overture.
Things went wrong. We approved them, for the end was sure.
February even gave to us an extra day.
Just a day, turns the tide.
But the gradual won over the radical.
Silent day, silent night, so incredible.
When I woke up in the morning, all was very much the same.
When you told me nothing happened I had
Nowhere else to turn; none but me to blame.

I will admit that the change has been slow, but it’s
Changing in front of our eyes, like a
Plant as it grows, like a Flower that opens, it’s
Blossoming fast as it can.
Changing according to plan!

In a day tides can turn with a seismic shift.
Though we’re safe in our homes, they’re built on some cliff.
For in stillness platelets rise most dramatically,
When they’re rubbed under tons.
Join your hands with the new transcendentalist.
As the fairies appear in the morning mist.
As we wake up in a twilight zone where we’re
Solely on our own. That is not the way to go, but I am
Running to my grave without you to save me.

I will admit that the change has been slow, but it’s
Changing in front of our eyes, like a
Plant as it grows, like a Flower that opens, the
Amaryllis is sprouting from out of its soil-covered bulb.
While the best laid plans have an outcome that yields them a different result
So if we all are the best as we are, and the best is the most we can be,
If there’s something to gain from our going insane it’s that we’re
Finally starting to see. Everything’s as it should be.

Do we go right along as we always do?