"Un ballo in maschera" and me

So today began with a weird story: a guy advising me to seek occasional sex, at 8am. It let me deeply shocked - because it seems that, if you push something inside the bottom of a woman, then what is on the top of his head will come out - i.e. she will forget of her obsessive love. It's not like that, I suppose.

But instead of laughing I let myself being caught in the trap of obsession and pain and, albeit handling it decently, I could not be free until 12 o'clock.

Then I took a bath, had some trickpeas pasta with fresh tomato sauce and get ready for an informational interview with an officer of the UK's Ministry of Finance. Very nice chat, the guy seemed a full-of-humour gangster and nearly offered me a job - I had fun. I also got some watercolor to add colour to my drawings. I felt like liberated, I had wished colours for so long.

Art is the best expression of suffering and is therapeutic - this is also why (and for cathartic reasons, too) I went and watched Un Ballo in Maschera by Verdi at the Royal Opera House in London tonight.

The plot is very very easy to anticipate, and this is the main fault of the whole work, which is instead meant to be a tragic-irony display. The music is joyful, cheerful, never really dramatic - the real hero is the woman, who operates deeds and foresee or guess the future, but bound herself to non-action due o societal-imposed boudaries or restrictions (or example, Amelia refuses to reveal his husband's intention to murder for reason of "marital loyalty",albeit the designated victim is her own lover and the rler of the country). Ad men take the part of the coward ones (Riccardo abandons Amelia in troubles face to her husband after having seduced her, thus acting as a real jerk; he again opts for love over friendship and then changes his mind; Amelia's husband wants to revenge his scorn for their adultery against her, then against him, then repents when it is too late; --- gulp!) - but men command.

They can dispose of women's life, and can shout them to obey.

The music is humorous, and full of the rose side of life - a sort of "la vie en rose" in opera. Is also filled with irony, light irony which breaches into tragic irony as the character begin and continue not communicate effectively, not to trust each other any more. Anger, mistrust, bad communication are the roots of all tragedy. I know that tragedy is more "interesting" than peace, but this is valid whilst we are at the theaterm and not in our own private, emotion life. I cried because I saw myself - miscommunicating and at best seeing the trouth when it is far too late. Goodnight.