Letter To Cheryl.

I ran across this letter today. I wrote this and emailed it to one of my old professors the day I found out she died. She loved to email people. When I was a her student, I'd open my email box only to find about 40-50 emails from her all written within a couple of hours of the first one. She passed away in July of 2004. I still miss her.


Dear Cheryl,

I don't even know what to say right now.
I think of my reaction the minute after I found out you
were gone.

In those 60 seconds, years of memories came flooding
back; leaving me overwhelmed with a strange mix of
grief and joy. Grief because we have lost so much in
losing you; Joy because of the profound impact you had
on our diamond in the desert, Estrella Mountain
Community College.

In my two years at EMCC, I’m sure I took just about
every class the college offered in Theatre and
Communication. Being in the Leo Club and Masque and
Gavel, I saw you almost daily. But almost daily, I let
opportunities to say how much you were appreciated slip
right by.

How could we have known that you would touch us so
deeply? How could we have known that you were
connected to the very core of this college community?
Cheryl, you were its heart. No matter how crazy you
drove some of us-myself included…with your lack of
structure and organization. Which brings me to your
office. Jenn Rooks and I once dubbed it “The Black
Hole.” I was always so afraid of walking in there, so,
I never did. I would always linger at the doorway and
stop there. At five foot nothing, I had visions of
being buried underneath files, puppets, pictures,
children’s books, extra pairs of glasses and more than
a few syllabi. I just never understood how someone
could be so disorganized. I missed the point.

But I heard that another student caught it. It was
relayed to me that you were organized in a different
way. Your heart was organized. The students came
first and you never forgot that. You made sure that
we learned to open our minds to endless possibilities.
You showed us how to express ourselves. You showed us
how to laugh. Now I get it.

In your classes, laughter, sweet laughter, nourished us
inside and out. Stories abounded, trust exercises were
practiced, diversity and cultural awareness became part
of the beauty of theatre and the world; all of this
mixed in with unconventional teaching methods certainly
got everyone’s attention. You started the Children’s
Hour and got the community involved. I count that
event as one of my favorites, and was truly among my
fondest memories of EMCC. I can still see the
wide-eyed wonder on the faces of those children while
we told them stories, opened their minds and unlocked
their imaginations


On Friday, after talking to my priest about you,
Cheryl, he asked me:
“What is the one thing that Cheryl taught you that you
will carry with you for the rest of your life?”

Well, as any actor knows, there is one method of acting
called the Stanislavski Method. We discussed this
quite a bit when you worked with my acting style.
Looking back, Cheryl, what you actually taught me was
not Stanislavski, but what I call “The Bradshaw
Method.” To sum it up: You taught me to live my life
passionately…with my whole self. In that passion,
there is veritas, truth. Without that truth, whether
you are storytelling, acting, or living life…the
audience knows that you are faking. So now,
Stanislavski is out the door and Bradshaw has taken his
place.

So, Cheryl, today, I must thank you. For all of your
quirks; your goofiness; your "interesting" ways of
teaching; your warmth; your heart which seemed to know
no bounds when it came to understanding, acceptance and
compassion; for the example you have set for all of us
to follow; for your zest and passion for living, in
spite of what cards you may have been dealt; for all of
this and more, which will remain unspoken in my heart
and memory, simply because the words will not come, and
even if they could escape my lips, it would all sound
trite and insufficient; for all of this, Cheryl, my
friend and teacher, I thank you. May you find rest. May
you find peace. I love you.

EMCC will not be the same without you.

“Now cracks a noble heart.--Good night, sweet friend,
And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!” –Horatio
(Hamlet, V, ii.)

Forever your humble student,
Melissa

Bored!

Part II, Max grows tired of his kingdom.

Here's another set of lyrics I wrote for the musical version of WTWTA.
See Previous Post


I’m bored! There’s nothing to do…(Max grins)
Hey You and You!
I order you to march in place!
Now…you must make a funny face!

I want you to clean your room!
And do use that big broom!
(Max watches them do these things)

You’ll have no supper and go to bed!
Don’t ask me why! ‘Cause I said!

Now here I am alone,
With nothing but my throne…
And I think I’m unhappy…
And want to be-

Oh so far, far away
I know there is a place
Waiting for me, an embrace
In that place so far away…

I’ll sail and sail till the day is done
Beyond the setting sun
And the rolling sea
Where some one waits for me…

I'll Find A Place

A VERY long time ago I was the lyricist for a musical version of Maurice Sendak's classic children's book, Where The Wild Things Are. (The theatre company I worked for secured the rights for this musical...to be one of the last companies to do so before a movie version was to be made...)

I wrote the lyrics while studying abroad in Rome in November of 2001. This was my first paying writing job! I actually had a contract and everything! I sold my work to a theatre company in 2001. The theatre company has since closed. I have no idea who currently owns my lyrics. BUT I did find them in an old email; I am posting them here for you to ready anyway...I'll have them up until I'm told to take them down. :)


In this scene Max has been punished and sent to his room. He talks of running away and finding a "new place." The scene slowly changes...vines grow, and Max begins to sail away...


I'll Find A Place
Lyrics by: Melissa C. G. Alvarez

I'll find a place so far away
Where I can thump, crash, bump, and play
Where I have never been but long to be...

There, it is! I can see...
past the towering trees
with bright green leaves
Across the roaring sea that will take me

To find a place so far away
Where I can thump, crash, bump, and play
Where I have never been but long to be...

I'll sail away-away from here
across the days, the weeks, the months...
For a Year!
and that roaring sea will lead me...

To find a place so far away
Where I can thump, crash, bump, and play
Where I have never been but long to be...

There's no rules, no moms, no bed.
There's only fun, 'cause I said.
In that place that's real far...
(sees sign)
Where the Wild Things Are?

Two.

Midnight moon glistens
Casting light on still water
Serene scene calms me

Breathe
contented sigh
letting go of it all now
hoping
for the best.

The Haunting.

I’m left holding
Fragmented thoughts
Disintegrating dreams
Of yesteryear.
My dreams don’t fit
The mold
Of the life I made
My dreams don’t
Match
The life we live.

I ponder the roads
I could have traveled
And where they may have led
Had I chosen differently,
Would I still be right here?
Would I be the same?
I don’t know.

I catch a glance at my reflection
in the bedroom mirror.
My hair is grayer
The lines around my eyes—canyons.
The voice I have
sounds so different than
the one I had years before.
This one
speaks so softly
And catches
When I think of the past.

My heart begins its aching
My body longs
for the joy of song
The joy of performances
That echo from long ago

While vacuuming
I hear the melodies in my mind
Brahms, Britten, Verdi, Orff
I try scrubbing the floors
and think of
acting on a stage
While doing dishes
I catch myself mouthing lines
Sartre, Moliere, Shakespeare, Wilson, Durang

While folding clothes my fingertips caress the textures of each cloth
Sketches of costumes, make-up, lighting grids, props
pop into my head
The joy of creating something
Out of nothingness.
The memories fade out.
(Standby--Blackout--Go.)
It begins to fade to black
fade
Into nothingness
gone.

And I’m left alone
With my thoughts.

Silence.

A quiet home
In a strange place
Isolated.

What do I do now?
What do I do now?
I think of the things I sacrificed
A part of myself
A part of my life
to show I cared.
I left my dreams behind.
I lost them somehow.
Maybe I never really had them.
I feel like a stranger
In my own body.
In my own home.
I don’t remember me
I don’t remember anything.
I grasp for any hint
For any clue
That will lead to
A vocation
A passion
An outlet
Something.
Anything.
What is it that
Is in me to do?
The things I miss most
I’ll never have again.
Even if I knew how to get it all back
I don’t know if
I would even dare try.
I’m scared and I’m tired
I’m getting much older.

Where do I even begin?

Mantilla (Bunuelos)

Mantilla

Fragile vintage lace

Smells of grandma's perfumed hair

In church on Sunday.


Recipe: Bunuelos (Thin and Crispy Mexican Pancakes)

Bunuelos are very thin and crispy. They are quite delicate and remind me of a delicate lace mantilla. This is similar to my grandmother's recipe, but not quite the same...she won't let me share the family secrets. :) (Adapted from Elena's Famous Mexican and Spanish Recipes, Elena Zelayeta, 66th printing, 1965.)

Makes 2-3 dozen Bunuelos.

3 c. sifted flour
1 tbsp. sugar
1 tbsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
4 eggs
1 c. milk
1/4 c. butter, melted
1/2 c. water
1 tsp. Vanilla

Sift all dry ingredients together. Break eggs into dry ingredients. add milk and butter. Beat mixture well. Add as much water as needed to make a dough that can be handled without being too sticky.

Knead dough well and roll into balls the size of walnuts. Rub each ball with a little oil (canola will do) to prevent them from sticking to one another. Cover the dough balls with a cloth and let alone for 20 minutes. Lightly flour a board or your counter top and roll each dough ball into a VERY thin large round (use your hands if you need to do so). Let stand 5 minutes, then fry them in hot oil until golden brown in color. Drain on a paper towel or brown paper.

You may serve them with a little powdered sugar or some honey. I like mine freshly made with a bit of honey drizzled on top. You may also sprinkle with some cinnamon.

Salsa (Melissa's Spicy Salsa)

Salsa

Heaven on a chip

I bit a jalapeno

Ah, the blissful burn.



SPICY Salsa:
4 small dried chiles (pico de pajaro)
1/2 medium onion diced
1 tsp garlic chopped
1 medium can of diced tomatoes
1 small can of tomato sauce.

Cut off ends (tops) off of chiles. Discard tops.
toast chiles in a small pan then cool momentarily.

***IF YOU DO NOT LIKE VERY HOT SALSA...REMOVE THE SEEDS FROM THE CHILES BEFORE YOU PUT THEM INTO THE FOOD PROCESSOR!!! Seeds=more heat. Pico de Pajaro chiles rank at about a 7-8 on a heat scale of 1-10...don't say I didn't warn you.****

Put toasted chiles into a blender or food processor.

Add onion, chopped garlic, diced tomatoes (15oz can), and small can of tomato sauce.
Blend/process the heck out of it. Add salt and pepper to taste.

This is a simple smooth salsa; not chunky like pico de gallo.


If you'd like a chunky salsa, you can mix this salsa with more diced tomatoes (either canned or fresh), some cilantro, jalapenos or other chiles and some lime juice.