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 October. 2004
Excerpt from the Liner Notes of Wesla's New Album "In My Life"
These notes are being written in the fall of 2004, very shortly after completion of all production work on the album
they accompany. For me, this fall also marks completion of 36 years of living in San Francisco.
Where did all that time go? And even though this year isn't one of the traditionally significant ones, noting the end
of a decade or a quarter century or the like, it strikes me as being as good a time as any to reflect on my life and
career so far. "In My Life" is a song held dearly in my heart ever since first hearing it — which happens to have
been not very long before my entry into this city -- and it seems an inevitably choice as the title of this recording.
It speaks of life's changes, both the good and the ones that don't seem so positive, and thus it recalls for me how
I felt when I first arrived on that September day in 1968. I knew absolutely no one. Sure, I'd visited for a few days
a decade and a half before as a very young girl on a vacation trip with my family, but I had not been back since.
My loneliness in those first few weeks was overwhelming. For several days in a row there was no one to speak to
except for an occasional polite hello. (At least the hellos were friendly on my part; I wasn't too sure about the quality
of the responses.) I remember flashing on the possibility that this might well be what very old age was like, when
everyone close to you has died or gone away — not a cheery thought. But that period of extreme anxiety only
seemed endless; it actually didn't last very long. Classes soon began at San Francisco State, and I quickly made
friends in the music and drama departments. Friends always lead to more of the same, and over the years I"ve been
blessed with so very many. When I recall that initial emptiness and compare it to my life today, filled with literally
hundreds of people so dear to me, I can only smile. These are the life lessons that offer hope in the midst of despair,
along with the knowledge that the changes that will come cannot be known to us in advance. And yes, it is all there
in that wonderful song.
Nevertheless, I had known since that first trip in the early Fifties that somehow I'd get back and hopefully make a
life for myself here. Now, when people comment on how much change I must have seen in San Francisco in almost
four decades, I must agree the city has indeed altered a great deal. But San Francisco has also had a hand in
reshaping me — and on the whole I think it hasn't changed nearly as much as I have....
Wesla Whitfield
Full Liner Notes Here
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GREENSILL WEBSITE ANNOUNCEMENT
www.mikegreensill.com
Y'know, many of the rocks in the new rock garden are from places other than Mt. Shasta site.
I thought it would be fun to share their backgrounds in an upcoming essay titled 'About the Rocks Themselves'
with fairly complete documentation including photos.
And it's because of ideas just like these that Greensill is now launching his own website.
It is cooler, hipper and less strange than mine -- but so is he! Visit it soon.
Thanks
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March Notes From the Garden |
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What sight is more pathetic than a neglected winter garden? I've found the answer:
a newly cleared and planted winter garden.
Today was the day of reckoning, and it only took me six hours to accomplish what most anyone else could have done in about ten minutes.
Saddest of all, the end result 'looks' as though someone only spent five minutes!
Oh well, I have great faith in time's magic regarding such things as 'creeping thyme' and seeds planted in flower pouches.
A new focal point in the back garden is the rock garden.
These aren't just any rocks, oh no. Greensill and I captured them ourselves last summer on our trip north, and these were along side a road within sight of the majestic Mt. Shasta.
They've been highly decorative on the front deck,
and at last they're being relocated to the spot I've always intended for them.
At the moment they look like....well, like a pile of rocks.
But that's where the magic of time thing comes in.
I'm planning for the creeping thyme to creep over them and the nasturtium and cala lilies among them to glamorize the entire area eventually. I've also added a castor bean plant (yes, I do know that all parts of this plant are highly toxic), jacaranda shoots and three of those big, blue spiky things -- all started from seed!
The fun part of that is no matter how scraggly or troublesome the plants are, they always fill me with pride -- sorta like kids!
March, 2004 |
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| Mike capturing the Rocks |
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Former Home of The Rocks |
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August 12th. 2003
Oh wow -- coming back home is always the best part of being away.
Two and a half weeks in St. Louis at the MUNY
was exhausting and terrific.
Best of all I've made it back just in time to see the
sunflowers start to bloom -- they waited for me!
Everything else has continued to blossom and grow like crazy,
and the garden is glorious.
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I'm sure Bloody Mary never had anything
this grand -- even on Bali Ha'i.
Here's a picture of her from the production -
great addition to the back of her chair!
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REVIEWS
St. Louis Post-Dispatch -------
"Wesla Whitfield plays List's shrewd mother, Bloody Mary. Best known as a cabaret singer,
Whitfield gives a smart performance that includes an eerie, restrained reading of 'Bali Ha'i."
STL Today --------
"As regular Muny-goers may recall, Whitfield uses a wheelchair. Fitted out with rattan wheel covers
and a tiki-type face on the back, it makes an eye-catching prop."
KMOX 1120 Radio --------
"Wesla Whitfield as Bloody Mary is against type casting, but sings and acts the role beautifully in a
gentler and authentic fashion."
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July 4th. 2003
News From the Garden:
After many hours of digging through the 14 year accumulated compost (translate: trash) heap in an obscure corner of the back garden, transformation nears completion into a shady grotto!
Ferns, elephant ears and black bamboo are all beginning to flourish in their new boxes, and an enormous sum of money has gone to purchase bricks for a truly lovely patio floor.
With any luck this will be a chilled but cozy spot in which to while away idle moments, and at least we'll have a swell view from Greensill's piano desk.
He spends ever so much time there writing arrangements, and a soothing panoramic vista helps during the tense times when the next idea just won't come or the computer has once again crashed under the mighty force of the 'Finale' program. |
The marigolds planted last year have reseeded themselves exactly everywhere and are blooming their fool heads off among the nearly blossomed iris and the slow but sure narcissus of too many varieties to count. And the bees keep inventing new ones!
This year's crowning glory, however is the amazing 'bag o' strawberries' which provide at least one and sometimes two
wonderfully sweet fruits per day. Yes, it would be nice to have an entire bowlful all at once, but the fact that they've grown at all more than makes up for their non-profuseness.
I hope your garden is giving you as much pleasure as mine is to me. It took many years to arrive at a spot where I could have
one at all, and this one thrills me! |
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April 15th. 2003
the silent "i"
You may have noticed that there seem to be different spellings of my name - with and without that ‘i’.
Here’s the thing: for fifty-one years my name has been spelled ‘Weslia’ but it is pronounced ‘Wesla’.
Imagine the confusion that has caused!
My mom named me after a school chum and for years explained that was how to spell and pronounce it.
That always sounded suspicious, and I began to have big doubts when I found Wesla in a book of
suggested baby names (it means ‘from the west meadow’ just as a point of interest).
But the real turning point came when I met the woman after whom I had been named, and she doesn’t
have that ‘i’.
So I’ve had mine surgically removed - freedom. I’m now free to fill out forms and make new friends
and order things over the telephone all without causing seemingly endless confusion and chaos.
I am woman - hear me roar, or something.
So here’s the deal: I’d really like to have my name spelled and pronounced, Wesla.
My mom did say she was sorry, so I’m sure she wouldn’t mind either.
Thanks
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