obviously.... There's the woman who is in choir just for the purest fun of singing. Her simplistic bliss infectious. Another is trying to dirgedly lead others in her section to the Path of Right Notes. The second-in-command is haughtily bored, while the littlest chorister in front closes her eyes in obvious self-rapture. There are those who are COMPLETELY clueless (tenors consist the majority of this group), and those who wish they were. A leader tries, in vain, to show his tiny 2-man section a glimmer of a hope of an idea of what is going on. The blind girl rolls her non-existent eyes at the mistakes her trapeze artist comrade leads her into, getting more frustrated at every misjudged leap. Her face, now frozen because of so much scowling, will make her laugh later. Now however? ...the spicy Latina Grama in the first row, though, I think has finally come to a musical catharsis, where everything now makes sense. The leader behind her smiles pontifically, at least outwardly inatt...
One morning, natural as the air she unfolded the limbs that threaded through velvet lowlands under a hush crying moon. Arms that once wrung soured water into careless dirt lifted themselves brown in the white heat of noon. She swelled her shoulders narrowed by half shade tenement cells and from a cavern that drank a million suns, a voice that roamed all the Gehennas of earth and spirit rode out on a sweet wind and she was singing. ~Maxine Clair