The Singer with a Glove

I can remember with such clarity and vividness the exact moment when I knew for certain that music would be my life’s work. As a young and highly impressionable child, I was first exposed to opera though a rather unconventional medium, an art museum of all places. During those incredibly hot and brooding New Orlean’s summer days, my mother would take me and my brother on long walks across city park to the Museum of Art. Inside, I would stare in sheer astonishment at the incredible collection of paintings and relics from times long passed. One painting caught my attention in such a way, that I could hardly turn my gaze away from it. Edgar Degas’, The singer with a glove, was the most wonderful thing I had ever seen — the expression on the singer’s face, the fierce boa around her neck, and her totally unapologetic stance made me wonder who was this person that could have so much freedom to express themselves in such a confident way. This painting taught me to be fearless in my art, and to do it with joy and perhaps a slight bit of dramatic splendor.