the intricacies of a ranting mind

When Pavarotti died, I was in my living room drinking coffee and I choked on it. We knew it was a matter of hours, but the shock wore all of Italy down and caused havoc in my neighbourhood. I heard his name mentioned at the post office, at the market, in church, at work.

What Big Luciano has given to music, despite his tantrums and controversial lifestyle, is inestimable. And last night BBC decided to honour his memory by showing the Three Tenors' concert in Rome.

Needless to say that with Calaf's aria in Turandot, by now his trademark, he gave us a sheer heart attack and had us shedding tears in our spumante, doubtlessly topping all our Best of the Best charts (his throne had temporarily been threatened only by Di Stefano, because we're shamefully attracted to retro style glamour).

Was Pavarotti the voice of the century? The debate has just begun. But for us, who lived through those mourning days and wept with Mirella Freni, his is the ultimate earth-shattering experience.

Here's to you, Luciano, and to your echo.

Catarí', Catarí'...
pecché mm''e ddice sti pparole amare?!
Pecché mme parle e 'o core mme turmiente Catarí'?!
Nun te scurdá ca t'aggio dato 'o core, Catarí'...
Nun te scurdá...
Catarí'...
Catarí', che vène a dicere
stu pparlá ca mme dá spáseme?
Tu nun ce pienze a stu dulore mio?!
Tu nun ce pienze, tu nun te ne cure...

Core, core 'ngrato...
T'hê pigliato 'a vita mia!
Tutto è passato...
e nun ce pienze cchiù.

(lyrics of 'Core 'ngrato' Cardillo-Cordiferro)

Dear all,

If anyone reads this, we are desperately looking for 2 people to put together a team of 4 to do the Oxfam trailwalk in July 2008 or to support a good cause by donating.
As I'm sure most of you know, the challenge is to trek 100 km in 30 hours, having raised a minimum of 1,650 quid/team in order to participate (it costs £150/ team to get in before 1st of Feb 2008). The money will go to Oxfam and the Gurkha Welfare Trust to help eradicate poverty in the world. This will be a new challenge for our humble legs and for our fighting spirit.

We can do this together!
Let us know

The LONDON trekkers

Back from a stay in the hospital which had my musings over life amplify to unbelievable rate (no, am not a hypochondriac), a poignant question imposes itself on most of the hours I now spend awake during the night. A question which has been tormenting many since day 1 of creation, so not so original again, but hey, it's mine to ask:

where do all things go when they go?

to further illustrate my meaning to you: according to the song, they come back someday.

i took a trip back in time and was shocked.

i bet 9 out of 10 people i used to know AND remember now, do not know who I am.
sad but life? hmmm
by the way, i did go down and under. am not a survivor

Anyone else who's thinking of organising LONDON's most fab gig ever?

Who'd you include (inspiration from Guardian's weird Best Albums Ever list aside)?
I'd die a happy woman to see Bruce Springsteen (king is back!) duetting with Leonard Cohen with Andrea Bocelli as backing vocals, accompanied by London's ONLY Philharmonic Orchestra.
I'd also have Roberto Alagna selling last minute tickets at the door as part of his retrainig for a job.

Whaddaya say? Who's on your list? Mail me
diane

Dear all,

welcome to an open debate about the state of the world, mental sanity and anything else which can stir up the last crumb of passion hidden in the depths of a mind confused by the speed and irreverisibility of our societies' non-evolution.

feel free to linger!

(this is a test)