Posted by diajosette on Dec 23, 2009 in Uncategorized
I’m standing across from you
And dreaming of the things I do
I don’t speak, you don’t know me at all
For fear of what you might do
I say nothing but stare at you
And I’m dreaming
I’m trippin’ over you
Truth be told
My problems solved
You mean the world to be but you’ll never know
You could be cruel to me
While we’re risking the way that I see you
That I see you
That I see you
Conversations
Not me at all
I’m hesitating
Only to fall
And I’m waiting, I’m hating everyone
Could it be you fell for me?
And any possible similarity
If it’s all, how would I know?
You never knew me at all but I see you
But I see you
I’m standing across from you (But I see you)
I’ve dreamt alone, now the dreams won’t do (But I see you)
I’m standing across from you (But I see you)
I’ve dreamt alone, now the dreams won’t do (But I see you)
Truth be told, my problem solved
You mean the world to me
But you’ll never know
You could be cruel to me
While we’re risking the way that I see you
But I see you
I’m standing across from you (But I see you)
I’ve dreamt alone, now the dreams won’t do (But I see you)
Posted by diajosette on Dec 19, 2009 in Uncategorized
I haven’t posted in a while. I’ve been pretty busy. Arachnoid Cyst Awareness designed and sold holiday cards this year, and we also created some other Christmassy things for our zazzle shop http://zazzle.com/arachnoidcyst . Thank you to everyone who has been involved and contributed to our Arachnoid Cyst Awareness e-magazine. It means a lot, and your submissions are greatly appreciated.
I’ve been dealing with a lot health wise, but won’t bore you with the details. My brother Josh just had throat surgery yesterday, and he is recovering well.
My dog Pinocchio has been a handful lately, he goes from being obsessed with Figaro to being obsessed with Dezzymona, but I love him all the same. Look out for their Christmas special this year. I’ve taken talking dogs to a whole new level, and now it actually looks realistic. Hehe.
You may possibly see me in Philadelphia in the new year. I’m the one with leopard spotted cane. Look closely and you may see me walking into Fado on Locust street to get a brandy and coke (that is if it’s still there).
Happy Holidays Everyone!!!!!!
Thank you for all your well wishes. My new email is dia@diadesigns.com
Posted by diajosette on Sep 25, 2009 in Wynford Evans
I first met Wynford back in June of 2000. I was visiting a friend of mine who was studying voice with him. Wynford must have made a huge impression on me because almost a year and a half later, when I was fed up studying with voice coaches who didn’t know how to teach, I remembered Wynford. I began studying with him in January 2002 and was thrilled to finally have found the right teacher. His methods were easy for me to grasp, he reassured me when I was at my most apprehensive state and introduced me to the greatest composer in the world, Edward Elgar. I currently have hundreds of cassette tapes with our lessons recorded on them.
Wynford wasn’t just a voice teacher to me, he was my friend. When I was going through my own illness back in 2003 he always kept in touch and wanted to know about my health. He called me after every single one of my surgeries. I was standing at a precipice of giving up, and he saved me from what would have been a catastrophic mistake.
When I arrived back in England after my many surgeries and grueling hospital stays, I was relieved to see Wynford. I was at my lowest state, but he never gave up on me and never stopped encouraging me to keep on going.
I will never forget how he conducted me through the recording of my first CD, Five Songs in the summer of 2004. I wasn’t well at all physically and anyone could tell. Towards the end of the recording I was about to throw the towel in, but Wynford as his optimistic self told me, “You can do this, just look at me and I will get you through it.” And he did. But unfortunately over the next few years, even though I wanted to have the classical singing career we both worked so hard on me achieving, an endless amount of health problems occurred forcing me to put it aside and “get better”. By late 2007, I had become a recluse, but still Wynford would arrange lessons and suggest musical opportunities, again as his cheerful self. I can’t help but think now how I let him down. I wish I could have pulled myself together and just got on with it, but I never did.
Wynford and I had many great long chats since then, but about 6 months ago I stopped hearing from him. I assumed he went on a prolonged holiday in Spain and was happily playing golf, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. After many attempts at trying to get in touch, I found out that he was suffering from Pancreatic Cancer and had a few surgeries as well. So again, I was reminded how cruel life could be. Knowing what a vicious disease Cancer is, it was the last thing anyone would want a wonderful person such as Wynford to go through. I still haven’t got my head around it, and am devastated he had to spend his last 6 months suffering. Just the other day I wrote him saying, “Just keep listening to great music, that will get you through this.” At times like these that is all anyone can do– comfort yourself with music.
During these past two months the world has mourned the losses of many greats: Eunice Shriver, Ted Kennedy Sr, Patrick Swayze and now Wynford Evans.
I had a really long day. But won’t get into that. I’m kind of teary eyed right now. Before this whole cyst bull shi* I was a great singer (not to sound cocky), but that was going to be my career, and then I got sick. And it just seems ever since 2002 my body has slowly been dying. It gets depressing, it does. Tonight a friend of mine uploaded an old recital video from 1999, I was singing Rachmaninoff’s In the Silence of the Night. I loved Rachmaninoff, and so my voice teacher had arranged it for me to sing that song even though it was traditionally sung by a baritone. I’m a mezzo so, or I was, anyway, I just watched this video and I remember that night so well. You could even say I was really sick then too. You can see it all over my face how much pain I was in. And no one knew what was happening inside of my brain, I didn’t even know I had this thing growing there messing my body up like no body’s business. It’s just when you look back and see the potential you had, and see where you could have ended up, but then look at where you have ended up, and it is nowhere all because you got sick. It just gets too you sometimes. And tonight it is getting to me.
Posted by diajosette on Jul 3, 2009 in Uncategorized
I didn’t have enough write in votes last year to be officially nominated this year, but you can still vote for me by this method:
If you would like to vote for Cooking With Dia for the Veggie Awards 09′, click the picture below. It will take you to a voting form for all sorts of wonderful veggie things, when you come to “best blog” and “best website” (about 5 pages in) click on “other” and fill the box in with “http://cookingwithdia.com”
I would greatly appreciate any votes, consider it a bday present! :) You don’t need to fill in the entire form in order to vote for best blog or website, unless you want to be entered to win their prizes.
If you have never visited Cooking With Dia, the food blog is about comfort food recipes for restricted diets including: veganism, vegetarianism, the gluten free diet and the macrobiotic diet. I’m a vegan and a macrobiotic, and have a lot of fun blogging about my foodie ventures. I create the recipes, cook the food, style the plate and snap the picture. Voting closes July 31st, 2009.
You would know the secret of death. But how shall you find it unless you seek
it in the heart of life?
The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light.
If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life. For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.
In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;
And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring.
Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.
Your fear, of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honor.
Is the not joyful not Joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king?
Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?
For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?
Only the river of only when you drink from silence shall you indeed sing.
And when you have reached the mountaintop, then you shall begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.
I have been talking a lot about Pop’s Water Ice lately, mainly because once again I am living a water ice-less summer. I was reminded of something I had written last year for the I.E. and thought I would share it once more:
Rita’s Water Ice is branching out to Indianapolis. This is just the latest of 500 stores now open across 21 states. Rita’s is the most popular water ice distributor in the country, if not the world, but it’s crap! Why all the fuss?
I unfortunately had to settle for Rita’s water ice on those hot spring and summer days while attending Istinkalotta University–there was a store just across the street. I would watch students line up for the ‘more water than ice’ thing, day after day. Most of these people were from upstate Pennsylvania, so I would quietly giggle to myself thinking, “These idiots never had real water ice!”
One of the benefits of growing up in South Philadelphia was the multitude of water ice stands and stores available: Mom and Pops, Italiano’s, Fillipo’s Ice, That one place across the street from Dr. Steingard’s office and my personal favorite Pop’s. In my opinion and also many others, Pop’s Water Ice is the best it’s ever gonna get. The big difference between Rita’s and Pop’s is the 50 year age gap between them. Pop’s has been running since 1932 and Rita’s only from 1984, although the franchise didn’t pick up until the mid 1990s. Though Pop’s is technically a chain, their 3 stores don’t come anywhere near to the 900 Rita’s will have by the end of 2009.
I myself am guilty of going to big money corporations for grub once in a while, but at the same time I know the cappuccino in Starbucks can’t touch that served by coffee houses deep in the heart of Philadelphia’s Italian Market, for example, Anthony’s Italian Coffee. I know that the soggy shit given out by McDonald’s can’t compare to the Hamburger Royal served by Tony Luke’s. Which brings me to my point–Rita’s can open up in as many locations as they want, but they will always be missing one important factor, quality.
I am absolutely infuriated right now at an email I have received tonight from Susan Brady, Carnegie Hall’s Director of Development. Now I will cut and paste this letter on here so you can read what I have just read, the sentences highlighted in bold, were done so by Susan, not myself. Underneath her email is my take on it all.
————————————-
Dear Dia,
My name is Susan Brady, and I’m the Director of Development at Carnegie Hall.
I’m writing because a very important deadline is approaching: Carnegie Hall’s fiscal year ends on June 30. The major decisions that face this organization–decisions affecting our world-class musical programming, educational services that inspire thousands of students, and needed renovations to the Hall itself–will depend on what happens in these next four weeks.
Our Executive and Artistic Director, Clive Gillinson, recorded a brief video where he talks about where we stand–and about why Carnegie Hall means so much to everyone in the world who appreciates the best in music.
I know that you’ve enjoyed music at the Hall before, but if you’re like many of our supporters, you may never stop to think about what it means to the cultural life of this country–or what it takes to keep it up and running.
Please watch the video, then consider making a $50 donation to support Carnegie Hall:
I know how much this recession has affected all of our lives, and that we’re not the first organization to tell you that times are tough.
But times like these are also an opportunity to focus on what matters most–and I believe that music is indispensable to our lives.
As Clive says in the video, just because Carnegie Hall has been around for 118 years doesn’t mean it’ll be around forever. The support of people like you is instrumental to the success of this organization–past, present, and future.
You’ve experienced the power of Carnegie Hall–you’ve attended performances here, but you’ve never taken the next step by supporting this institution with a charitable donation.
Thank you so much for considering our request. Please watch Clive’s video and learn more about making a donation:
All the best,
Susan
Susan Brady
Director of Development
Carnegie Hall
—————————————-
Let me tell you why she keeps emailing me. I went to see a Deborah Voigt recital back in 2004. I had just had my eleventh brain surgery. Some friends of mine helped me pay for a box ticket because they knew how badly I wanted to see her perform. I had a rough year, and this was the first night I was spending outside of the medical world, outside of all of the drama…it was the first night I had to focus on something other than my brain troubles.
Ever since that night this woman Susan Brady has been hounding me with emails and phone calls. When I was living in New York, I would get a call once a week begging me for money. I tried to explain, that although I sat in a posh seat, I WASN’T POSH. Geez. I had medical bills coming out of my ass, and they thought I could afford to support Carnegie Hall? They were as vicious as Bill Collectors for student loans. They never let up until I moved.
So, her harsh words in the above email that talk about an obligated “next step of charitable donation”…to that I say, WHAT? Are you serious? The ticket prices are high, no one gets in for free. Carnegie Hall is not a non profit organization that depends solely on donations, they make an enormous profit! Why are we meant to take this next step out of obligation? I don’t understand. I do know that these are desperate times for everyone. In addition to that, music is the most important thing in my life, without it I would have dropped dead a long time ago, I have never denied the power of music in my life, but I will not sit back and be bullied into paying that “50 dollars” just because Carnegie is going under. Never have I once received a thank you for my ticket purchases, never once an apology for the tremendous amount of phone calls and emails in the past which demanded money. Why on earth would I respond to one of the most ignorant emails I have yet to receive, with a 50 dollar donation?
Come on! Be nice, and maybe people who have that kind of money will respond, but continue the hounding, and people will turn the other way.
Charcoal, the family cat, has gone to be with the other cat angels. He lived to be 15 years old.
Rewind those 15 years… I was just starting high school, as the lonely, awkward teenager I was. Our cat Charity had just run away, and after searching the South Philly streets for her as a family, we had given up after a month. There was a brief moment there, when my mom convinced me that neighbors a few blocks away had stolen her and fattened her up. I later figured it was nearly impossible for a cat to gain 10 pounds over night.
Almost instantly my mom came home with a cat named “Cassandra”. My first inclination was to change the poor thing’s name, but before I had the chance, she was returned because of a faulty eye. Don’t quote me on that. A few days later our next door neighbor came to our door with two male kittens: Charcoal and Smokey (much better names for cats), and in our house they stayed for the rest of their lives. Sad, kind of, the way I worded it, but we lived in a city! Alright?
Charcoal and Smokey tore up the house bit by bit. When they weren’t satisfied with 9 Lives tinned food, they tilted the kitchen trash can, foraging for chicken bones. I did try to explain that we only ate processed food, but they just never understood. Charcoal was always eating two portions–his and then Smokey’s. Smokey dealt with his hunger pangs by getting high on cat nip. Charcoal would glance over disapprovingly.
In the early years, Charcoal slept in a shoe box I had put a blanket in for him in my room, but then one day the box collapsed, and it was onto my brothers’ lair…
I eventually moved onto university, but kept in touch with Charcoal via telephone: “Hi Charcoal, I am pulling another all-nighter just for the hell of it. This time I mixed coffee granules with jolt.”“Meowwww”. Seriously. Charcoal talked on the phone with me for years, my brother Josh had trained him to meow every time the phone was put up to his face.
Sad to say my junior year of university Smokey dropped dead by the front door. The finger was pointed at a poisonous olive from a certain martini glass, but ya know how those Philly cops work–they don’t!
The case was dropped needless to say, but poor Charcoal felt the full impact of his brother suddenly disappearing. No one thought he would live another week, but he ended up surviving eight more years.
The last time I saw Charcoal was back in August 2006. I had just dropped in on the way back from my friend’s wedding, and spent an hour or so catching up with the family cat. He talked about how strange it was to suddenly have a 6 ft cardboard cut out of Spike from Buffy the Vampire Slayer hanging out in the dining room, and I of course agreed, as I felt I had been hallucinating. I have pictures to prove it.
I patted Charcoal on the back one last time before hopping in a cab to go home. Looking back I think I took him for granted, never realizing he would one day be gone.
Charcoal the cat has lived a very exciting, tumultuous and adventurous 15 years. We all will miss him dearly.
I first met Wynford back in June of 2000. I was visiting a friend of mine who was studying voice with him. Wynford must have made a huge impression on me because almost a year and a half later, when I was fed up studying with voice coaches who didn’t know how to teach, I remembered Wynford. I began studying with him in January 2002 and was thrilled to finally have found the right teacher. His methods were easy for me to grasp, he reassured me when I was at my most apprehensive state and introduced me to the greatest composer in the world, Edward Elgar. I currently have hundreds of cassette tapes with 
