Obama is a mulatto.


He is being referred to as a member of the black rase. But his father is black and his mother white. So, he is de facto as much black as he is white. Why is he then not referred to as a white president-elect?
Why is he not referred to as a mulatto president-elect, which he is?

It this not politically correct? If you find that the word is pejorative, offensive, demeaning or at best old-fashioned, biracial is also a term we can use to describe his race. But he certainly is not black.

7 is a magic number

A few years ago I did an audition for an opera academy. I was not accepted. They accepted some other tenor that now is not doing so well. But that’s beside the point and I really don’t care about him. What pissed me off all those years ago is that they could not recognize my talent or the possibilities of development, even thought the voice was not in a shape and for they (or I on the other hand) wanted. So I was not in… Which is not necessarely for the worse.

The years have passed and I have done my things. I always loved being on stage. It was obvious already when I was dancing. I love the attention of the people not so much that I could show off, but more in the sense of artistry.

A few days ago we had a run through of the opera that I’m doing now. Offenbach (btw: the director became a much nicer person, but if something goes wrong, it’s still my fault, ha-ha … But I have good colleague singers who tell him that it’s not). One of the colleagues invited also his "friend", who is the artistic director of the very same aforementioned academy. I was not particularly pleased also since we’re rehearsing without décor, costumes, make-up and with only piano accompaniment. So one really cannot get the best of the pictures about what we actually do. But the gentleman came anyway and I was surprisingly calm. I had nothing to prove. I just wanted to do the best of what we've been rehearsing all those weeks.

The run-through went smoothly, no big mistakes, and it’s becoming a nice comedy. On that subject: it was the first time we had audience and it was the first time that someone laughed to the jokes we did on stage. Some of them are really cool and are very funny indeed. But it became obvious that laughter is a very contagious state and that we started to smile with the audience. No really laugh, but it’s hard to keep a stone face of the character you’re playing while the whole room is laughing. Not to myself: do not laugh with them. It’s also this that makes them laugh.

After any kind of performance I just want to disappear. I don’t want to look people’s in the eyes because I don’t want them to feel obliged to say something to me. Most of all compliments. I hate compliment-fishers.

Anyway the director came to me and was full of compliments. I finally found ground under my feet, my voice is stable and centred, and mostly I’m a born actor. He was genuinely flabbergasted. I offered myself (yes I have learned a few tricks over the years) for his future productions (thinking it won’t come to anything anyway, but it would make me feel better) and he said he’ll definitely think of me.

After a while we got talking again and he said that he’s actually a tenor short for the next production of the Poulenc’s opera Dialogues des Carmelites (In my opinion it's one of the best operas. The story is absolutely shocking and the last scene is a killer read further down! The background of the opera is also a difficult one. The librettist was dying of cancer when he wrote the libretto and Poulenc's boyfriend was dying while he was composing this masterpiece. Needless to say all the nuns in the opera die and Poulenc’s boyfriend died shortly after the opera was finished ...).

So he suggested I would take one of the principal roles (certainly the principal male role) in the next production! Now it was ME who was flabbergasted!!! I went to see him the day after, still thinking he would have changed his mind (talking about self-confidence!)… But he didn’t so in September I start doing the Carmelites. Hurrah!

My first encounter with the opera was on the plane to Caracas.

The story is about a marquis, his son chevalier (me) and daughter Blanche. The year is 1789 in France, so not a good time for noble people. Blanche decides to enter into the service of God and becomes a member of the Carmelite order. The Terror regime finds them all guilty of treason and sentences them all to guillotine.

What I heard on the plane was the last scene, where they all slowly approach the scaffold and sing Salve Regina. When the first blade fell down and the first nun was decapitated I almost had a hart attack. The plane was flying over the dark ocean during the night, the lights in the plane were dimmed and only here and there one could hear distant talking or even whispering. And the fell the second blade. My heart stopped again. All those minutes untill the end of the opera, till the last of the Carmelites mounts the scaffold and if is of course Blanche, and till her soft singing is interrupted by the lethal guillotine, I was completely blown away by the music, the story and general situation. There came a silence and tears started to flow down my cheeks.

And now I will perform it. Absolutely surreal feeling of awe and respect.

It's been a week since we started the opera rehearsals. I took it VERY easy in the beginning of the week. We first had musical rehearsals and then on Monday we started with the directions (I still did not know thing by heart at that point, so some emergency memorising was in place). I think that most of directors are actually fuck-wits, pathetic men without their personal life and generally annoying people. This is also true for our director.

Since we've started there was not one single thing that would be to his liking. I am generally not a singer who would be compliment-hunting the whole time. I do however need to know if I do something OK and what would that be and what I need to change and make better. And not that I am bitched at the whole godamn time! What I hate above all is that I am told one day I should to something in a certain way and the next day get shit ‘cause I did it the way he told me a day before. Please, mister, make up your mind !

Why did I especially decided to write about today? After a week of extensive rehearsals, he actually said I said something well… IMAGINE! With quickly adding that I still need to work hard on the rest of the things.

I actually have to play 3 different roles, while still being one and the same person. A bit confusing... We only did 2 for the time being and I admit I could not really establish the difference between them. Today after some good thinking and after we’ve run through all 3 scenes I finally understood what I need to do. Apply different posture, different tone of voice, different gestures. Not only that I have to do them, but also how to do them. Am really happy. Tomorrow we do the scene where I have to dress up as a violent Spaniard (who speaks Slovenian, go figure) and I already have thought about how to portray this. We'll see said the blind man.

I really should not be too afraid in suggesting my own characters; afraid to be rejected. That the director will not like it. I finally think we CAN work together and make a good performance. And that’s what matters. People who pay to go and see opera are certainly not interested in the behind the scenes problems.

And there certainly are some problems: the director does not like ANY of the costumes that the costumier had made. NONE. Not the colours, the fabrics, the cuts… NOTHING. That I call bad organising. Poor lady. She’s so sweet. Ah let’s hope for the best, shall we?

I decided to post this post in English on both of my blogs (and it's just a bit more comfy for me).

I few days ago The Netherlands was shocked by a horrible deed. The whole thing came to the media attention when the Dutch authorities arrested four men in a sex-crime investigation in the northern city of Groningen. Now read this (!):

They were having a private gay sex party (gang bang). Which is among gay "culture" not so uncommon. However, three of the men were suspected of drugging male victims and abusing them during this party. Not only are the three HIV-positive and they had unsafe sex with the until still unknown number of other man. What they did is, they withdrew their own infected blood and mixed it into a deadly cocktail and injected it into the other wretched men!

The motive to do this was the 'kick' and the feeling that unsafe sex is 'pure'! WTF???

Prosecution spokesman Paul Heidanus said Thursday that the two who confessed would face charges of rape and "premeditated severe assault," which carries a maximum sentence of 16 years in prison. He said they would not be charged with attempted murder "because of a Supreme Court ruling that found AIDS should no longer be seen as an inevitably fatal disease, but rather a chronic illness."

"The victims said they had had been made helpless or unconscious and then abused," a police statement said. "They had involuntary and unsafe sex with one or more of the suspects."

All of the victims said they believed they had been infected with HIV as a result.

What I don't understand is in general the whole gang bang sex, but people are different and who am I to judge other people's life style.
Second thing is: if you go to a bareback party like this you know that you can get infected, 'cause you have sex with the men you don't know and therefore do not know whether they are safe or not. And some sick people get a kick out of that. But again: it's their life and if they want to fuck and get terminally ill as a result of it I don't care. And also: if you have sex with HIV-positive person you don't necessarily 100% certain get the virus. So it's a kind of a Russian roulette. Only with sex rather then a gun.
What I don't get is that you deliberately infect other people and enjoy it. And that you do not get life sentence for it!

Needless to say I was utterly and completely shocked when I read this news.

A few days ago I got a call.

It was a harpist. She plays arpa doppia, lirone and other interesting old instruments.

And she said: I'd like to do a concert with you. I really like how you sing and perform.
Wow, magnificent.
I say: Perfect, no problem, I'd love that.
She: Do you have time on 20th July.
I am thinking what I have and what not. I know I have some opera rehealsals.
Then she continues: 2008.
Me: What? Hahaha, sure I have!

That's that then. We met already and talked about the repertoire. We'll perform on he Wold harp Congress in Amsterdam 2008.

I love having concerts!

The pregnant Swiss darling, Milady and I had a concert on Sunday. It was a nice chappel close to Leiden. And it went very nicely indeed. Apart from the fact that I kept forgeting the goddamn text and sang pseudo-German in a song that I've been singing already for a very long time. But it's typically me. (a note to myself): It is high time I change that and start preparing more thoroughly. Starting now with Britten's wonderful Cradle Song... I have to sing it tomorrow and though I've been doing it for the last month and a half, that I've recorded it, I still doubt with some of the words.

Anyway, what I loved about the concert was, that after it was all done and over, and we were sitting in the changing room, the organizer came, visibly pleased with what we did. He then gave us 4,50€ in change. Ok.... hmmmm He said that a lady in the audience liked the concert very much and decided to give us a tip! How sweet! That never happened to me... The tip is not big, considering it was the 3 of us, but it is the mere gesture that is so rewarding. We split the money.

Today is May 8th. A day when Germany capitulated. In 1945 that is. I read this today and found it really funny:

Why did Britain not become fascist between the wars? The obvious reason is that the British temperament is inhospitable of fascism. Fascism calls for ardour and common purpose, whereas the British are by nature disgruntled, unhopeful, individualistic and suspicious of ideas.
They do not like being organized, and they have a keen sense of the ridiculous, which is lethal to fascism.
One man rule has never attracted them. As early as 1649 they were obliged to chop Charles I's had off to bring this point to his attention.

John Carey

I knew it.

I knew that recording is going to be a horrible experience. Well it was not THAT dreadful, it's just that one always wants to do one's best. Which is the worst thing one can actually do.

We had from 10:30 to 17:00 to record whatever we want. I've never been in a studio before though I have sang in very dry places. Which was not the worst thing. It's that tinny microphone, that little devil that records all the flaws and all the little imperfections. It scared the shit out of me. And then I wanted to do my best. Argh....

We still managed to record 10 songs. Which is quite something. And Milady was just the best sport. I had a drama fit. I believe only appropriate when one is in a recording studio and not all is going well... ;)

The CD is not (that) bad. It's not what I thought it would be. Oh well, cannot have it all, ah? Next time it's going to be perfect! Just marvelous....

The goddamn NS!


Today was one of the rare days that I actually came to the train station on time. Not only on time, I was 5 minutes early! Can you imagine!? Usually I make an Ato Boldon act and run to the train.


I sit pretty on the train, already reading "Metro", when the man on the speakers says: this train will not got any further, there were computer problems between Utrecht and Amsterdam. WTF!?!

So we all get off. No one really knows what the devil is going on.
And I really need to be in Amsterdam before 12 o'clock.

So I go and ask. They say: oh yes the problem is solved, get the train at 11:35. Fine.

Back to the platform 5. There's train to Nijmegen. The board on the platform changes to Amsterdam Centraal. We all board the train. As soon as I sit down the man on the speakers says: this is NOT the train to Amsterdam. FUCK!! So we all get of the train again.

Finally, to make a very long story short I came to my destination one hour to late. Which (if I don't count the time) cost me E30!

Will the glorious NS pay for that? Of course not. Sometimes I really ahve the feeling I live in a 3rd world country!

One of Sneferu's pyramids: the Bent pyramid. He built the first big pyramids.

How do you entertain a bored pharoah?


Sail a boatload of young women dressed in fishing nets down the Nile and tell him to go catch a fish.




An inscription on a slip of papyrus from the magician Djadjamankh to the paroah Sneferu (2600 BC), believed to be the oldest joke in the world, discovered by the British Museum's Egyptology department.

Coffee

I stoped drinking coffee at a certain point in my life, cause I thought I'm gonna gave a heart-attack. well it turned out that I was just stresses and my heart was telling that to me in a very alarming fashion. Fair enough. But what a goddamn drama queen, a?

Anyway, yesterday, reading my book I came across this wonderful passage:

Forty years ago, the Persian Shah Tahmasp, who was the archenemy of the Ottomans as well at the world's greatest patron-king of the art of painting, began to grow senile and lost his enthusiasm for wine, music, poetry and painting; futhermore, he quit drinking coffee, and naturally, his brain stoped working. [...]
One day when he had grown even older, he was possesed by jinn, had nevrous fit, and begging God's forgivness, completely swore off, wine, handsome young boys, and painting, which is proof enough that after this great shah lost his taste for coffee, he also lost his mind.

Orhan Pamuk: My name is Red

So I've been back for a looong time. And the problem with double-blogging is, that once you've shared some thoughts and put some energy into one blog, you really cannot be asked to write the very same thing on the other blog.

And that's preciselly what happened to me: I've put all our experiences and the wonderful trip with the pictures on my Slovenian blog, and feel strange translating it into the English one. For what is it, there are at least some pics there... I promisse, I will keep the English blog running with the Dutch news... ;)

Anyway, the trip was amazing! Everything was much more than we expected - the principle is: the less you expect the bigger the surprise! And it's exactly what happened. We loved Egypt, the culture, the food, people and country. We will definitely go back.

Also a very big BRAVO for the agency: Niletravel. We will definitely use their services again. Highly recommended.

Tomorrow we go home. What is home? Utrecht? Ljubljana? Slovenia is where my parents live. Utrecht is where my life is. Am still undecided. Don't want to decide just yet. I don't have to really...

Well, the new year has begun. I wonder what it will really bring.


There are things I really need to change! It's weird for me to think about New year's resolutions, cause I've never done that. I always saw the passing from one year to another in a very natural and non-complicated way. Yesterday is 2006 and today is 2007. So what.

But this year I feel the change. Is bizarre to explain the feeling. But I have a feeling I have to do things this year, otherwise it will become to late. I will miss things in my life. Things I will later regret.
Perhaps it’s just the fact I’m getting older, heh heh.

Anyway, we’re beginning the 2007 with a splash. We’re off to Egypt tomorrow!! Cairo, the dessert and oasis. I’ve been fascinated by Egyptian art ever since I was a kid. The whole mystery with the building of the pyramids, the whole splendid culture that ceased to exist, the hieroglyphs, which I find a fascinating writing, always aroused a lot of my interest. I was fascinated by Cleopatra and her beauty. Of course to me it was the beauty of Elizabeth Tayor in that epic portrayal of this famous Egyptian Queen. btw we watched the film a few days ago - 4 hours of actual film and another 2 hours of a documentary. Did not know it is the 2nd most expensive film ever made.

We’ll now it’s time to see all that!! It’ll be our first time in Africa. Hope the weather will be nice. And I can bargain. I'm so looking forward! Hurrah!

Another thing: Slovenia joined the Euro countries. Congratulation!

Well guys and gals, I guess I’ll post something when I come back from Africa. Take it easy! Big kiss.

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODY!

Have a great 2007!

I wish you a lot of:

1. health
2. love
3. happiness
4. laughter
5. friendship
6. success
7. spare time
8. crazy adventures
9. beautiful sunsets
10. sweet kisses

Honestly, all the best!

My sister is pregnant! I'm so happy! Yippi!!!

I've known for a while, but in the beginning there are always - or can be, complications. So I did not want to really put it out there. Now things seem to be going well. For the Slovenian speakers, you can read her interesting blogg here:

freycha.blogspot.com

I am going to be an uncle. UNCLE! Don't really know what that actually means and entitles... But I wanna be the greatest uncle ever. And Cmoko the other greatest uncle ever!! We wanna take the child to holidays and buy him all the expensive gifts, just to annoy the parents, while we spoil the child completely. Heh heh!

I hope I can be around enough. It's a difficult relationship when one is very far away. I guess I'll just have to make it up for when I'm not there.

But do I want a child? Do we want to have a child. Always a difficult question when it comes to gay couples. I believe I do and Cmoko also. At the moment we're to busy getting our lives sorted out, busy with our careers. And then? Will I be too old. Obviously we would adopt. But I don't want a child to have a grand-father for his father.

There's another question: gay people cannot have children. Especially not men. So are we forsed to completely renounce these natural feelings just because two men cannot conceive a child? Is it the doing of a society? Or do gays just love themselves, their money and the whole gay (in the original sense of the word) lifestyle?

When I was a kid I always wanted a child so that someone would continue the tradition in which I was brought up. That someone would continue my line. That I would not leave this world forgotten. Is that bad? I reckon it's really quite natural (and I really mean natural). We are made to procreate so that we continue the species. It's really quite selfish. Well, we're doing something for the race, not just us personally.

So perhaps these thought are completely legitimate. But they are surely not enought a reason to have a baby. The child ought to be a crown of a realtionship. Should be the product of love. Should be wanted and loved. Should be the most unselfish act of your lives!

I love my sister and am so happy for her! Go girl! You deserve the happines you have. You are going to be the greatest mum! Big kiss!!

After living together since August, Cmoko and I invited a lot of people to come around and celebrate this important step. At the same time we did our birthday party - we have our birthdays only two days apart. I find that really cute!

We lit all the candles in the apartment, so that there was not artificial light. By this I mean electricity. It was really nice and a lot of people came. We had fun till 5 o'clock in the morning. Not a wild party but a relaxed one. So no throwing ups and destroying of the furniture. Well I suppose we're a bit over that teenage "oh how cool, let's get drunk" parties. Strangely, no drugs either. Which only confirms, when the company is right one does not need intoxicating substances.

We got a lot of presents and it was really flattering to hear the comments about us and our lives together. Mostly from the people that are single. But that's the way it is, isn't it? You always see something you yourself don't have. And the happiness of someone else always seems to be just a bit more perfect than your own.

And just because of that I decided to really enjoy my happiness with Cmoko the next day. I could not stop holding him, hugging him and kissing him. When I got up in the morning he was still sleeping. Well, he usually does, the lazy sod... I watched him for a long time. And then took that photo of him. As I write this he's still in bed. Probably in the same pose... hehe... Love you, miško!

I love winter! I think it's one of my favourite seasons if not THE favourite. I just love it when the weather becomes colder and bitter. Of course there are also things I don't like about winter, but there are things I don't like in any of the seasons.

I remember the days when we went to Krvavec, where my family owns a house. We would escape the foggy vale and lift over the white milky veil into the realm of the sun and glistening snow. The realm of the untouchable mountain peaks, wide views and infinite horizons. The cold was incredible and you could feel it in the nostrils. The coldness would sting a bit. And the nose would become red in a matter of seconds. And then the most obvious proof of the monstrous coldness: the creaking of the snow under your boots. The colder it would be – more creaky the sound under the shoes. I absolutely adore that feeling. It’s a dry coldness and does not hurt as much as the horrid humid and muggy cold of the cities.

I always wondered what is it that makes the image of winter so special. The colours are different the images of the places you know are changed.
It was only in the last week that I realized: the sun is so much lower on the vault. Compared to the summer the light comes on a much more direct was and under a bigger angle. The shadows become much longer and the vision a bit more curtained. It gives the nature an intriguing sense of mysteriousness and attraction.

I miss snow. I miss the terrible cold. I miss going to Krvavec with Cmoko, coming to the house, where there’s -5 degrees. We have to light the fire and unpack. To make the things warmer very fast we would have sex or just cuddle for a long time. Then eat and watch TV for a long time. Sleep a bit as well. Funny how clean winter mountain air makes you sleepy and tired at first. I would go skiing the next day, Cmoko does not ski. And he would cook…

I miss my Slovenia. I must stop thinking about past. Must realize that all I ever wanted is here by my side. Which makes me happy. Nostalgia is a dangerous bad habit. December does this to me…

I was surfing about the net this morning. Mostly blogs. And news, surely. I came across a lot of gay blogs. And most of them - 97% - only post pictures of more or less naked men and some even real pornographic material. Most of the verbal posts in these blogs are mildly said: shit.
Then there are some perfect ones, with great entries concerning the old evergreen stuff: love, life and universe.


What I wonder is: do gay people really have nothing else to talk about but cocks, muscles, arses and who they've fucked is who is still on the list?? Because usually when I do come across some of these gay "communities" these seem to be the only conversation topics. Ever. So why would I expect that the blogs these poor souls have would be any different?
My concern is: do they have nothing else to talk about? Are they intellectually so inferior all they can do is search for hot pics and repost them? Perhaps that is not the case at all and men and their body parts are the only thing they think about. Their sole purpose of living. Seeing other man's nipples, arse cheeks and dicks… Try to seduce them, and if not jerk off later in the privacy of their bedroom or public toilet. And then move to the next “victim”. To satisfy the next sexual urge and getting more and more frustrated.

Or is it that people just want to see sex? On the television, in the cinema, read in books and magazines, watch on internet. And they find that great. If everything else is crap there is a perfect solution: just throw in some sex and nudity and success is procured. I even saw a review of an opera performance (!) where the main role was sang by a tenor who was on stage completely naked, save a calf skin over his right shoulder. The Royal Opera's new production of Wagner's Das Rheingold features an opening scene with nearly nude Rhinemaidens, wearing only blue pubic wigs (!) and long hair. So sex and nudity also in the most strict and rigid of the art forms. To attract new audiences? Why would be exposing tits and cocks on operatic stage be such a draw for younger listeners? They surely get more from seeing a peep-show.

And then we have the famous rugby players. Years ago they’ve decided to make a calendar of the players – probably just the most sexy ones, almost nude. Needless to say the women and gays went nuts. All those gods au naturel! And so they are called Dieux de Stade. Only this year, some of them went the full monty. Some of them I’ve chosen for this blog. Well decide for your self… I still think: less is more. And: fantasy makes wonders…

Here I am again. I was in one of my favourite countrier: FRANCE! I went there on business to one of my favourite cities: VERSAILLES! Well favourite only because of the glorious chateaux. One of the greatest architectual and human masterpieces of the world.

I love going to France. People are nice, the coutry, even Paris smells so nice, and the people know how to live their life. Even if they are poor or not so fortunate in life, they seem to be happy. It's a terrible generalization and it is entirely possible that I just idealize the French and their culture. Which might have something to do that I grew up reading about the pinacle of their culture: Louis XIV and Versailles. Listening to, strangely enough, Bach.

Altar at the Chapelle Royale

Whilst being there I had a chance to go the the concert in the Chapelle Royale in the castle of Versailles. It was great being there and being a part of the audience in a place which one normaly just sees with 1000 othre turists as one of the visitors of the museum. Exciting!!

Anyway this is my photo story of the comming back home.


I left Versailles by train, the station called Montreuile.


When you take a train to Versailles from Gare St. Lazar - therefore Rove Droite, it means that you'll be traveling slightly above the city and this gives you a perect oportunity to see the whole Paris and see how big the Eiffel tower actually is. Remarcable. And it's still here since 1889. They wanted to destroy it after the World's Fair. It stands as the biggest building in Paris -320m and on the right hand side you can see the second tallest building - Tour Montparnasse with 210m. Impressive 7,300 tons of iron!


A typical Parisian house with the balconies - this one on Rue de Rome (where I went shopping for books and music):


From Gare St. Lazar I took a fabulous Paris metro to Gare du Nord:
e

There I took a train back home. A known red TGV train called Thalys:


The first stop of the train. The photo says all ;)


Well the rest of the trip was a bit of a bore. Train stops, train travel. And as soon as we came to the Lowlands it started to rain. Typical. Anyway, when I came to my hometown I forgot to take a pic for you. I was just anoyed by everything and could not wait to come back home where Cmoko was waiting and I could not wait to hug him for a long time and press my kiss-hungry lips to his warm mouth. Which is exactly what happened. And now we're just off to bed :P