Ensemble Lucidarium

After lots of dance class stuff (ow, ow ow ow) I went to see a concert of Renaissance-era Italian Jewish music that was just utterly fabulous. I will spare you absurdist nattering about the charisma of the male vocalist and will instead subject you merely to the following translation of one of the pieces performed:

You sleep whilst I wake, wasting my steps. As I twist and turn about your walls. You sleep, while my pain could wake the stones: The moon darkens with pity. You sleep, but not these tired eyes, To whom sleep never comes: Because all flees from my thoughts. Save your image, which destroys me.

You sleep, whilst I keep guard against the winds and the storm. Upon the marbled stone of your doorstep. You sleep, I wake, and with bitter tone, Call upon pity, which for me means death. You sleep whilst I wake in great tornment, Finding no-one to comfort my suffering. You sleep, well rested and without care, While my eyes refuse to close.

why I am not doing acting work this week

I'm simply not willing to do background on summer exteriors tomorrow night. The high during the day is supposed to be 22. ARE YOU FUCKING HIGH?

It's like reason #90459035 most actors would rather be whores.