will review Lighthouse Island on February 16th.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Me on the left, Janis DeLara on the right; she and Jose and I went to The Messiah that evening.

Finally the night of the cantata arrived and we all got through it and everybody liked it. The last two measures of O Holy Night — for altos — is impossible but we did it.

Friend Woody of Lennard Island Lighthouse (with whom I used to sing in a choir years ago) e-mails, “Oh the nerves, the director thinking it will never pull togather, the soloists disdainful of the back-up crowd, the people who are too deaf and too far gone in the larynx department to pull their weight and the interminable practices, but somehow manage to come through when it counts…”

And, I might add, the sopranos gossiping in  muted tones while the pianist drills everybody else on their parts  (I mean what do they have to worry about?) until finally the pianist slams out a big dissonant chord: “Sopranos shut up!” and the director says mildly, “Sopranos please hold it there…”

Our soloist Jim Boyd who is also the high wire man for the electric co-op (the guy who goes up in the thirty-foot bucket and fixes the transformers) is a stunning baritone and so saved the day, or night.

As Connie Willis, sci-fi/fantasy writer (The Winds Of Marble Arch) once wrote, “Everything I know about human nature I learned in choir”.

PHOTOS BY JEFF GEORGE, LENNARD ISLAND LIGHT STATION

Two stunning photos from Jeff George’s calendar, which I got in a christmas package. The first is a rough day at the Lennard Island landing, the second is ‘tideline during the herring spawn’. The North Pacific is full of endless variations and surprises and Jeff manages to capture every mood with his camera.

And to think I managed to get ashore on that landing — but it wasn’t that rough! I love these colors. The one of the herring spawn looks like some distant Celtic fairyland — the realm of the perilous Glamourie.

A NIGHT AT THE OPERA

Well, not exactly opera, it was the symphony.

Was invited to go with friends to the San Antonio Symphony; extremely talented and dynamic conductor, Sebastian Lang-Lessing whom you see above pinning the oboe with his Do As I Tell You stare. In reality a charming and open man.

First half was Rachmaninoff’s # 2, which was great, but then second half was Bruckner’s # 6 and I thought I would die of sleepiness, boredom and the overwhelming desire to get up and walk around or find the bar and another glass of champagne. Jose and Janis were also fighting to stay alert and look fascinated, we were on the 3rd row from the orchestra. They had friends in the violin section.

It was one of the last at the old Majestic Theater. which is lavish to the point of cartoonishness but I love it, just love it. those balconies in the Star Wars Alhambra style are actually balconies. 

If you’re up there you can go to sleep during the endless repetitions of Bruckner or go ‘Oh God’ to yourself and nobody will see/hear. They are building a new venue, the Tobin Center, opening fall 2014, which I dread. It looks bare and industrial and a bit claustrophobic compared to the gorgeous and overdone old Majestic.

Ah Well. A wonderful night with Janis and Jose and afterwards off to Mi Tierra for a late dinner and stories from Jose about old San Antonio, the San Antonio of his youth, and all the truly remarkable people he knew — like the man who made all the tiles (by hand) which floor the County Courthouse, and the tiles in Mi Tierra. A great night.

At present writing the difficult scene where Marcy gets hit by a falling window.

Harvest time, the rain has arrived this week with long slow drizzles. Just got the sequel in to my agent. It’s the old Ben Hur plot combined with the Captains Courageous plot. that same depressing world that Nadia found herself stuck in, only Alan Reavis is from the top one percent. It’s not so bad up there. Until he gets thrown out. But he is quick and smart and learns to survive in the streets; task — rescue his brother.

It went a lot faster beause the dystopia had already been created.

Theodore Roosevelt and friends. 1905. He apparently feared nothing. Not even reading great weighty books full of dense print when on hunting trips. Or even losing his eyeglasses. Or dirt.

One reviewer has compared Lighthouse Island to Terry Gilliam’s Brazil. I like it, I’ll go for it. Also the labels ‘retro-futurism’ and ‘sci-fi noir’.

I could watch Gilliam’s Time Bandits several times a week.

The endless city of Lighthouse Island. And the exclusive housing of the elite.

Actually the first photo is Mexico City and the second is a resort near the Dead Sea in Jordan. Searching through Bing images for what might be illustrations of the dystopian world of LI and now its sequel.