surprises – hannah ananas

Puccini

Turandot is a spectacular spectacle – Puccini certainly got it right and did it well with this one, y’all. I almost cried twice, and then did cry near the end, all because of the music – it was so amazing. Robert Wilson’s visionary directing was spectacular in and of itself, yes. It was so fun and cool and amazing. But the music itself held its own… it was satisfying and utterly fulfilling… and, boy darn, was it good… Just wow…

Thank you, Houston Grand Opera, for this spectacular performance. And thank you, God, for allowing me to witness it… in gratitude, I pray. Amen!

P.S. One of the main characters suddenly had to step out (I believe it was today), and so another member of the cast played her physical role, while Juliet from the current production of Romeo and Juliet stood on the side of the stage with a music stand and in a black dress and sang the part. “Like no other,” the creative director said in his pre-show announcement, and it truly was. It was amazing on all accounts. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Amen!

Post-a-day 2022

Rose Girls in Glass Vases

It was successful, by the way, the gift. When I presented it to him, he didn’t fully understand. It just looked like an odd, artsy, plant-y presentation of a rose-shaped folded piece of fabric. After the distractions of other sudden comments and conversations from passers-by departed, he finally continued opening up the rose-folded fabric… One guy commented enthusiastically, “It’s a scarf!” at which point I realized that no one had any idea what it actually was yet, and he needed to unfold it all the way. Finally, he got there, and he discovered that it was a Hawaiian shirt! And it was a very nice and pretty and purple Hawaiian shirt. He was delighted, huge smile and hug and everything. He showed it almost immediately to his friends, and they went wild, cheering. As I had said, he’d needed a Hawaiian shirt. 😛 Even though he enjoyed it greatly, he commented at one point that he thought his friends might be even more excited about it than he was – a major compliment on the present. I was thrilled and grateful that it had played out so well. My mom had done the folding and presentation setup of the shirt, cutting palm fronds and leafy, green things, and picking up moss clumps to put it all together in a beautiful presentation, like a fancy flower on display in a box. (Naturally, I never got a photo of it in good lighting, because I was so excited about gifting it…, but it is what it is, so here is the poorly lit photo I have of the “flower”.)

A rose, by any other name, might be a Hawaiian shirt…

Separately, my mom and I went to an Islamic Art Festival today. It was filled with luminous, beautiful, heart-filled art. So much heart and light and love all around that room today. I am grateful to have been able just to be present with it all. I am further grateful for the fact that just a tiny bit of it came home with me this evening, thanks to my mom.

However, there was one piece that caught my eye early on in the day: a medium-large, mostly white painting. (I know, a white canvas sounds impressive, but it absolutely was…) It had some gold foiling on it, but looked like an otherwise white , slightly textured painting (almost oil-like with the depth and textures), with script shaped to look a bit like a whirling dervish, a Sufi. I wanted to know what it said. But mostly so that I could be clear that it had been calling to me in particular…, because it felt for the first time in my life that I wanted to – **snoot-snoot** – ‘purchase an art piece for our personal home collection’. I know it may seem to be odd wording there, but that was what it was. Like the Sophie Kinsella book “Remember Me?”, how they collected art for their fancy “loft-style living” penthouse, I wanted to start my own real collection of art today. (**Note: In the book, she had gone from having missed a bonus by a one-week hire date at her new, low-paying job to, after a car accident and resulting amnesia, being five years older, married, in a high-paying leadership job at the company, driving a Mercedes, and living in an extremely posh penthouse in London along the Thames. So, the lifestyle was absolutely foreign to her, and their art collection had particularly blown her mind simply as a concept, let alone what the art pieces were and how much they had cost [loads and loads, obviously]. Her commentary upon discovering everything in her ‘new’ wealthy life and lifestyle was comical and relatable, and her story was quite inspiring in terms of pursuing lofty dreams in life… like having a posh art collection in ‘loft-style living’. Hashtag real-life goals, right?… Anyway, moving on…)

When we returned later to speak with the artist – she hadn’t yet arrived to the festival for the day when we first were there -, I began crying during her explanation of the words on the piece and why she had done what she had for it. I couldn’t explain myself except that I was overwhelmed, literally overflowing with water. And I couldn’t seem to stop for a while. The words she was sharing through that piece were exactly what have been my guiding light lately in life, it was no wonder I was so drawn to the piece. I hadn’t even noticed initially that they were words, the energy of it was so loud and so truly in line with where I am presently moving in life.

She could tell it was positive crying, I believe. The piece itself she had set for $500, with all of the proceeds going to a charity she likes and supports. The latter part was impressive in and of itself (including what the wonderful charity does), making me want to support the artist all the more (and, of course, making me cry a bit more in gratitude for the wonderful, heart-filled good that people are still pursuing and doing in this beautiful life). The former set the piece where I believed it belonged, in a ‘true art piece’ category. She went on to tell me that she would be more than happy to work with us… on other offers of price, or, even, on a print of the piece – she’d gladly work with us on any of the options, as she wants the piece to go somewhere where it will be loved and appreciated and wanted.

So, we have all of her information, and I will be discerning over the next several hours and couple days, and I will reach out to her to let her know where I stand with everything, likely tomorrow or Tuesday. My mom said to me that this was a perfect example of where she would love to be in a life where such a purchase could be an easy, “Yes,” and a, “And here’s another $500 to go with it.” But we don’t live that kind of life. Not right now, anyway. And that is perfect for right now. Regarding what to do about the piece, I would love to have it in my home for the rest of my life. And that is a lot of money for me at present. Sure, I may have money in the bank, but, until I have reliable higher income, that money is there to keep me functioning (safely and reliably and without mental stress) in life with food and housing and transportation, etc.

I want to honor the piece for what it is. And I must honor my current financial state, and trust that God will guide me appropriately forward.

When I saw the piece, when it reached out and called me initially, my experience, though I hadn’t had the words at the time, was one of slight paralysis as the idea settled within me that, ‘I want to see that every day of my life.’ I believe fully that we are exactly where we need to be, exactly when we need to be there. And we are given exactly what we need, exactly when we need it. This piece and this wonderful artist and woman showed up today on purpose – we all fulfilled needs all around. This discernment is here for me necessarily, and right now. God, please guide me clearly forward with this art piece. I trust in you wholly. Amen.

Post-a-day 2021

Out of nowhere

…I taught dance this weekend. It was utterly ridiculous in circumstance – 11 girls at noon on a Saturday, in the middle of their celebrating a bachelorette party weekend, and in an airbnb house that kind of looks like a drug house from the outside. I had met two of them at the rodeo, and I had offered to show them for free how to two-step (since they’re interns, and interns typically have minimal money), when they had asked where to learn it. I genuinely began the lesson by asking with what level of intoxication I was dealing, and they loved it. (Surprisingly, it was rather low, but they had just had a lazy start to the day, I guess, because mimosas were definitely happening.) By the end of it all, I was clear that it wasn’t about how well they all danced, but that they loved what they were now doing, thanks to me. And, to be fair, a good handful of them could actually two-step (and some even polka) decently as lead and follow by the end. And they could identify the difference between a two-step and a polka. Not bad for the middle of a bachelorette party weekend. 🙂

I really enjoyed it.

Post-a-day 2018

Get a handle

I broke my new (to me) car today. Okay, well, a part of it. The car was parked on a street whose sides really sloped downward – and I mean a lot. When I went to open the driver door, after unlocking it, the door opened just slightly, before my hand flew towards me, and the door slammed back shut. The handle had broken.

And so, at least until I find a bonding agent – aka glue – that will hold well enough to stick the broken underside of the driver handle into place – hey, I wonder if that’s the issue with the other door – , I’ll have to do what I did this afternoon and tonight, and enter my vehicle from the passenger front door, because now both doors on the driver side won’t open from the outside (but the back seat door came that way when I received the car, so that wasn’t my doing).

Add that to the duct tape, and I am an image in blue 2002.

I mean, talk about ghetto – I’m getting there faster than ever anticipated (which was never!). Haha.

Post-a-day 2018

La Traviata and the World Series

Tonight, I celebrated the Astros’ World Series win with a small group of people that included, but was not limited to, doctors, homosexuals, teachers, Romanians, and a temporary Houstonian, who is a godsend in the opera. I didn’t really know any of them – we all just love music, and opera specifically. At each intermission at the opera tonight, the screen typically reserved for the supertitles and announcements about Houston Grand Opera, displayed the score of the Astros-Dodgers game. During the curtain call, one of the leads showed the latest score on his hands, to relieve us all the worry. And, when a small group of us gathered for a ‘behind the music’ miniature interview with one of the performers, the game was discussed. The performer has only been in Houston a couple months, but he was as excited about the game as anyone else. And, when the official interview had ended, and we were all chatting, and the game ended, we all celebrated together like friends. And, in Houston, that is normal enough. And, I found the company to be so truly a representation of our town, that it made the win that much better. In Houston, just about anyone can talk to just about anyone. You look at groups of kids, and even people my age and up, and they’re often from all over the world, either directly so or by heritage. In Houston, we are diverse and we are loving. (This is person-to-person, not car-to-car, you see – people tend to forget that a car contains a person, so cars get treated way differently than people who are face-to-face.)

Anyway, I began to wonder if any of the players on the Astros team were actually from Houston. I’m not so sure any of them are from Houston. And, while that is a bit odd, seeing as Houston is celebrating their victory, it also is rather fitting. Houston is packed with people who are originally from it. People regularly come to Texas, and find themselves never wanting to leave (though, I know that this is my always the case). We are the most diverse city in the USA, and that can be observed not just walking the streets, but in looking at our baseball team. Those guys are from all over, just like the population of our city. I find it kind of cool, really.

Anyway, yay, Astros, and yay, for the fabulous operatic baritone that is George Petean!

Post-a-day 2017

A hug of love

Tonight, at an event, I came across a student whom I taught for a grand total of eight days, and whom I haven’t seen since those couple months ago. When she saw me, her delight was noticeable instantly, and her desire to hug me was almost palpable – she was almost shaking with the anticipation and desire, similar to a puppy wagging its tail as it waits desperately to be pet and loved on by its human. When she saw that I was okay with her hugging me, we hugged. It was a real hug, and not the common ‘meh’ version that feels like a required pleasantry instead of a genuine gesture of care for someone. She cared, and it was for me.

I almost began to tear up, but for the intense joy and ease that filled me and flowed out of me afterward. In that teaching job, I was incredibly myself with the students, and this was the kind of impact I left after only a single week. This impact, where a student can hardly wait to hug me upon sighting me, and declares fervently, “We miss you,” despite our having not seen one another in months, was clearly a powerful one. And I am grateful for the grace and strength I had to provide it in being myself. I was truly honored tonight.

Post-a-day 2017

More days-of-the-week underwear fun

Tonight, I put on my TUESDAY underwear after my shower. While I actually did believe today to be Tuesday at one point earlier on in the day, that was not my reason for doing this. I considered them for a few moments as I stood over my suitcase, and then reached down and grabbed them with intention. I’m not certain how to put it, really. It was, in part, a representation of my distaste for today’s events (and therefore today) and my rejection of today (in a sense), and, in part, my rejection of the standards of days-of-the-week underwear as a means of rebelling against something that feels to be beyond my control with my current experience of time and the specific days of this week. Also, things were much more hopeful on Tuesday. Tuesday was a good day this week and last.

Today was the bad one. Although, to be fair, a lot of good has come out of the ending section of today – lots of love, especially. When Snapchat (which I don’t even use) and the concern of looking good (someone else’s concern) knock you in the face, it’s really nice to have love show up and remind you that you are great, and that those ideas have no bearing on the situation.

Post-a-day 2017

But… those are mine – the things we do for love <3

Girls and bracelets. Seems like a rather simple topic, right? Just girls and bracelets. Nothing special. Today, however, they were both special.

It was my last day going by the school where I have been based this past year. A student had been in touch to find out this information, and so knew that I was going to be there today in the morning. When I arrived at my (well, it’s not my former desk, but I guess it must have still been mine, since the stuff all on it was for me) desk, I was surprised by a small and adorable (because Japan) pile of wrapped gifts. Each one had a different note and was from someone different, both teachers and students. They all surprised me, but the one that got me ready for tears was the one on a beautiful piece of Rapunzel Disney (C) paper, with “Love” tape to attach it to the pink bag. It read:

Dear Hannah
Present for you.

From Nono, Yuna

These were the two main trumpet players in the band at school, the two with whom I had spent bits of time here and there, just listening to them play, chatting with them, having lunch with them, taking photos with and of them, letting them paint me (yes, they painted my arms one day), giving them fun jazz (which they had never heard!) music to play, and also playing trumpet with them. Of course, I am going to miss these two dearly.

However, I never quite expected a present from them. Let alone the nice little Japanese mirror, charm, and coin purse (or maybe it’s for makeup, even). They’re designed to go with the whole yukata/kimono getup, and I had never found ones to go with mine. So it was essentially a perfect going-away present for me! And they had no idea. They were just being sweet and giving me something Japanese.

So, a short time later, they show up to the teachers’ room and ask for me. I rush over to them and shove them out of the teachers’ room in a hurry – no one else needs to be part of this little celebration-slash-goodbye ordeal that’s about to go down.

With the two are a handful of other girls from the band, too. I thank them eagerly (Is that right? Let me check… “eager, avid, keen, anxious, athirst mean moved by a strong and urgent desire or interest. eager implies ardor and enthusiasm and sometimes impatience at delay or restraint,” says merriam-webster.com, so I accept it as appropriate in this case.), and give hugs all around. Some embrace the american social norm, and others delight in it hesitantly, but they all hug me with joy and enthusiasm. I will miss these guys, runs through my head as we’re all chatting and being silly together, and I know my thought is right. I will miss them desperately, and I know they will miss me, too. The simple fact that my successor is not even musically inclined shows the unlikelihood of their finding a replacement-ish for me, and the fact that I am leaving Japan almost guarantees that I couldn’t even begin to find a sort of replacement for all of them.

As we are wrapping things up, so that they can go eat before they have to be back at band rehearsal (to which I had been listening earlier on in the morning, secretly), I notice yet again a comment directed at my shins-ankles-feet region. i couldn’t hear what was said, as it wasn’t said to me. Each time it happened, the comment was almost whispered to another girl, just quietly enough that I couldn’t quite hear. But I could see.

I wondered if they were finally noticing how I don’t shave my legs – I kind of gave up shaving… not sure where I’m going with that in life, but it seems to be the current situation. I am always happy to talk about almost anything with the girls, despite their often being incredibly shy about most things. So, as I usually do, I encourage the comment to come to the open.

Finally, someone gets the nerve enough to say it aloud, and I am surprised. It was not, as I thought, anything to do with my hairy legs (it is dirty blonde, after all, so it isn’t all too noticeable in the first place, but I imagine they’re all accustomed to mine already anyway, plus they seem to love the colors in all my various hairs (since they’re not just black, like Japanese people’s)). What was the comment regarding? My anklet.

“She… want… it,” was the oh-so-embarrasing phrase. And oh, what self-searching consideration I had to make all of a sudden – I was amazed at myself at my success in the matter.

And so, as we all hug once more (or twice more) and say our goodbyes, I watch with a huge smile and a chuckle, as three of the girls bounce off wearing my anklet and two bracelets, all of which I had made for myself a couple or few years ago, and all of which I absolutely love wearing. But, hey, as I told the girls, I made those myself, so I can get some more Mookaite and Jasper stones when I get back to Houston (I might even still have some, actually), and make myself some new versions of those same bracelets and the matching anklet. Plus, as much as those meant to me, it pales in comparison to how much each now (and likely for the rest of their lives) means to those girls. As they say in Japanese, one of them told me that it is her “precious treasure”. I’m not sure they could have been more grateful, even if I had made the bracelets for them specifically.

I still kind of can’t believe those girls got my bracelets and anklet off of me. But I also love how wonderful it felt to give away a part of myself to those who so greatly longed for a bit of it. It was more than just giving away something I had with me, because it was 1)something I valued and 2)something I made myself, for myself. It really was giving away a part of me. It kind of feels like I’ll be able to take care of them forever, in some small way. I like that.

Anyway, that was about ten minutes of today. A really, really good ten minutes. 🙂

Post-a-day 2017

Heart-ing Accents

I love accents.

Tonight, walking home from an incredible sprint to the train station, which was through the ridiculously cold weather (causing my throat, all the way down into my chest, to burn most of the way back home), in order for a friend to catch the last train home for the night, I called up a different friend of mine, just to check in and say a ten-minute “Hello.”

Now, I don’t have many acquaintances who are Australian, and I see and speak with them rather rarely. So, whenever I talk with this particular friend, who, naturally, is Australian, I am delighted with the mini surprises the accent provides me in conversation. I am accustomed to the British and Canadian and US English accents, and even the New Zealander accent. But that Australian one just drives me so goofy (Yes, I realize that is not a standard phrase, but let’s roll with it, shall we? Yes, let’s.), I get a rush of joy and giggles when it pops out, differentiating itself from the other accents to which I am accustomed.

I’m not sure how this love for accents developed, but I have a hunch it was in our societal view of foreign accents. For some reason, it is always the foreigner who is exotic and desirable above all others in a TV show or movie, or even book. Sure, they are different from our everyday, but they are just like loads of other people in their own home countries. (You know, this really doesn’t make much sense, where I have this heading…) So, yes, they are different and thereby exotic when they are here, and not when they are back in their home countries. But why must they be so portrayed as desirable, sexy? How did that get decided, I wonder? Just a wondering, I have…

Anyway, the point of all of this was that my friend has an Australian accent, which is a new thing for me (my first full-time Australian friend, you see), and it always surprises me when things end up being pronounced a different way than I had subconsciously expected, and it makes me smile and giggle with delight every time. So, thank you, God, for the cuteness and wonderfulness of various accents in our world. 🙂

I'm part of Post A Day 2016