Friday, February 28, 2014

Seasonal transition

God, it's beautiful out today!  (Could hear birds singing outside my window again this morning.  Been a long time.)  Feels like spring, and the cherry trees are starting to bloom, but snow is a possibility again this weekend.  A tease, really, probably just up north.  Winter and spring duking it out for dominance.  Winter will win for the weekend, temporarily.

The day I wrote about the immune-system, I found a woman who wrote about RA and I wrote to her.  She sent me an e-book today.  I was thinking about it when I woke up and later found the email.  I am so grateful.  I've seen a lot of this info in bits and pieces before, but it's good to have it all in one place.  I don't drink enough water, and I take too many anti-inflammatories (which probably make things worse because they can damage your gut lining, make it more permeable which in turn can cause more food insensitivities.)  Didn't realize how prevalent corn was, don't think I'm allergic to it, but might eliminate it for a while anyway, just to see if I feel better without it (four pages of stuff that it's in.) The best I've ever felt (except I was always hungry) was the six weeks I was on a (very strict) elimination diet.  My doctors kept me on it for so long and I was so desperate for food, that the testing of eliminated food didn't go as planned, so I never did figure anything out.  It's more typical to eliminate food for a couple of weeks.  (This was long before I got sick, I just had allergies.)  But I felt great.

We did more visualization work last night, based on the text.  I have a hard time with it, I have to force myself to think of something else to get off the initial image...anyway, that led to some interesting places (a frog wearing a crown.)  But I saw the character I'm trying to communicate with, as a little boy, and I was so overwhelmed with love for him.  And that helps with how even though he did things I would see as bad in later life, why I still continued to love that boy, and believe in the fire burning inside.  Maybe, even if only once, someone believed each of us was the most lovely thing they ever encountered.  Someone loved you, and everyone else you come in contact with.  And that love is still there, somewhere inside.  You are still loved.

Thursday, February 27, 2014

Flawless

All these ads and articles about "flawless" skin keep popping up...why does my skin need to be flawless?  As humans, we're not, and unless I'm modeling for something, why?  "Flaws" make us interesting, distinguishable. Sure, if I have big, dark circles under my eyes or a giant zit and I have an interview, I might do something about that, but in general, it's just another way to make us feel inadequate and create a market for a "fault" we can now "correct."  Sure, being told I'm beautiful/flawless (looking-by someone who doesn't know me; I tend to think of that as "pretty" and "beauty" as related more to entire person) is nice, but I'd actually rather be appreciated for kindness, intelligence, courage, problem-solving, fearlessness, willingness to try, compassion, or listening and really hearing you, because that would have the added bonus of knowing that you (general) took the time to pay attention, time to see me as a person, and not just what's on the surface.  (The person who said I looked beautiful recently knows me fairly well, and I certainly wasn't "flawless.")

For some reason, the perceived urgency of it struck me as particularly ludicrous this week.  There's a time for it, sure, but it just feels like one more pressure of some superficial quality women (and to a growing extent, men) are supposed to take on, in addition to every other thing that's been added lately.  I don't have a problem of wanting to look nice, or "put-together" or wearing make-up, (or whether or not you shave) I mean if you have to for your work, then you do.  Or if you enjoy it, doing it for yourself.  Or if you don't care either way and do it because it's part of a relationship give-and-take.  I don't even have a problem with adults that want plastic surgery (if it's what they want, and not to fulfill someone else's expectation of who they should be.) It's just the outside pressure to be some "ideal" image, the fact that the "ideal" is unattainable and the bombardment with it can make you question your worth (and for superficial reasons) when you are already enough.  And if it feels too much like a chore, might not be the best use of your energy.

On a different tangent, I've only read about 60 pages of "The Culture of Fear" book, but I'm now hyper-skeptical of everything I read.  I already knew there was an angle, but I'm seeing it everywhere...and laws that get passed for problems that don't actually exist (on emotional votes) while proposed laws dealing with real issues that need to get dealt with die in committee.  It looks like you care, but if you cared, you'd work to prevent the problems in the first place...only that doesn't make for a good photo-op.  Cynical.

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Free day (Well, evening)

Woke up to sunlight.  Filtering through the trees and leaving streaks of light on the patio.  It makes my heart feel lighter, I hadn't realized how heavy it was.  My calendar is empty, first evening in over a week.  And tomorrow we have 40-minute appointments instead of 5 hours of class, so might actually be able to make it back to choir rehearsal.  We have a lot of new music to learn, and I like choral singing.

Found out that if I can work out the availability, I might be able to intern and get part of my tuition covered, and if not that, at least adjust the payment plan so that I can finish the program (we had a schedule change that would have changed when I had to pay in full, make it earlier than I had budgeted for.)

Changed my secret for Emily Sparks, it explains her (assumed) behavior better than one of my other ones.  Woke up with a headache, might be related to wine (only 2 glasses over the course of five hours-worked at another fundraising event last night) or my back, or my sinuses.  Feeling excited that I can get around to doing laundry tonight, but that energy might actually be related to the effect of the sunlight.

By the time I get off of work, it's clouding over, but light out until 6 pm(!)  Come home from running errands to find yet another toilet backed-up.  Our plungers all suck.  Can't get it unclogged, give up after 20 minutes and slippers backwashed with toilet water.  Toss slippers.  Bleach floor.  Shower.  Wash laundry.  Sulk.  Does make the prospect of moving a little more appealing, though. (Remaining bathroom is missing doorknob.)

Eating pudding now, and watching Inspector Lewis.  Still sulking.

Monday, February 24, 2014

Workshop

Was looking at my calendar earlier today and realized I had an audition workshop tonight, had thought it was on a Wednesday.  Missed choir again, we have a concert coming up, too.  It was for musical theatre, but since I'm just starting out, I figured any advice I could get would be useful.  And it's not completely out of the question: I'm not going to be a principle, but I could be in the ensemble.  I do need more voice lessons, and dance, but...

Anyway, the advice was generally helpful.  (Casting Director and Music Director) First impressions matter, from when you step out of your car through the actual audition to the time you get back into your car, assume people are watching.  It's not just about the actual audition: how you carry yourself, how you treat other people matters.  Professionalism (which is true in a job interview as well.)  Walking on and off the stage for the audition.  Choice of material: know it backward and forward, be able to make adjustments (that the auditors can see), choosing appropriate material for showcasing you, and also as related to what the season is you are auditioning for.  Sell them a ticket with your audition.  Give it your best.  Be prepared.  Never stop training: voice, singing, dancing, movement, acting.  Audition as much as you can.  Give your best shot to whatever it is you are asked to do: sometimes they are looking for who you are and how you take direction, work with others.  In callbacks, it's yours to lose.

I need to look into this "book" thing.  The Casting Director gave us a copy of his notes, including all the types of music/songs you should have.  Is it the whole song in the book, or just the 16-bar section?  They also showed us copies of what to do and not do in head shots and resumes.  (And yes, it's okay to call them if you haven't heard back either yes or no, to let the casting director know you are still interested.)  It's also okay to invite them to your shows.  Even if they don't come (they get asked to see a lot of shows) it puts you on their radar.  And they might come.

A lot of these workshops are free.  I feel like it's generous on their part, but from their perspective, they want us to succeed.  They like doing these because it's not a secret, the more people that know these things before auditions, the better.  It pulls everybody up.

Finally returned my library book, and was wandering around looking to see if they had a copy of "the Second Sex," (referenced in one of my monologues/plays, need to read it), they didn't, but picked up a book called "The Culture of Fear" by Barry Glassner about how we are afraid of the wrong things, while avoiding fixing the things we could change that could ameliorate a lot of the problems in the first place.  We tend to focus on the wrong end of the dog.  Good read so far.  Reading it on the bus rides.

Wow

I had an epiphany on the bus this morning, that the secrets you give a character affect how that character carries herself and interacts with others.  We did a long (2+ hour) improv as our Spoon River characters last night, and one of the things we were asked to do is come up with a secret, and then come up with a second secret and share the second one with another character.  I had originally thought of her (Emily Sparks) in a particular light, but when I interacted with others, she was different than how I imagined her when I read it.  Anyway, this morning I realized that difference came out of the secret. (Useful for me to know.  I was expecting her character to come out for me from her carriage or voice or clothes.)  Still, it makes sense, secrets would affect point-of-view, and that in turn would affect how you approach someone else.  ("Of course," sounds nicer than "duh."  Liberating just the same.)

I had a second epiphany last night from a throw-away, joking comment a friend said, and then another weird misunderstanding (not a bad one.)  Something that's been bothering me for the past year suddenly lifted off of my shoulders...it really shouldn't have made any difference, but it flipped a switch in my perception of myself and how that relates to someone else.  Can't explain it, only can say that where nothing else had been able to make a difference, that comment suddenly woke me up. (Well, and earlier in the day, I suddenly, unintentionally, did an empathy exercise on them (the one I've been stuck on), and looked at their actions/statements/reactions from that point-of-view, and it removed all the anger and frustration and alienation I was feeling.)  It's all just gone now.  I'm free.  Crazy.

I hope it lasts.

Saturday, February 22, 2014

Saturday

Dad's surgery sounds like it went well.  It's snowing up north, hopefully he will be able to get home alright tomorrow.  All hell has broken out in Venezuela.  More info on Ukraine, and even if the country does split into an east and a west, I hope the opposition parties can agree on more than the desire to oust Yanukovych.  I pray for an end to bloodshed and for a time where all people feel heard; for a peaceful agreement for all concerned and that democracy is upheld.

I spent most of my day at a Day of Rememberance Commemoration for the signing of executive order 9066 (Feb. 19, 1942) ordering the forced removal, exclusion and incarceration of over 110,000 Japanese Americans during WWII.  This one honored the life and courage of Gordon Hirabayashi, who resisted the curfew, and the internment camps and was sentenced to prison 2x (correction from what I previously had written.)  Those convictions were vacated in 1987, and he died in January of 2012.  He later received the Presidential Medal of  Freedom in May of 2012.  He resisted both on moral grounds (his religeous beliefs, he was a Quaker, and a conscientious objector) and as quoted to Ronald Takaki, "As an American citizen, I wanted to uphold the principles of the Constitution, and the curfew and evacuation orders which singled out a group on the basis of ethnicity violated them.  It was not acceptable to be less than a full citizen in a white man's country."  He was a college senior when he chose to resist.

He turned himself in to the FBI, and after he was found guilty of failing to obey the curfew and the exclusion orders, he was sentenced to a federal prison in Tuscon, Arizona.  As there was no way to transport him there due to all money being directed to the war effort, he hitch-hiked to the prison.   He believed in this country and the Constitution and was willing to challenge laws that went against it.  All of his papers, letters, diaries, and the Medal of Freedom were donated to the University of Washington's Special Collections in the Pacific Northwest Collection.  I'm hoping to read some of them.  It's an inspiring thing to know what one believes in so fully and to base your life on those principles.

I first learned of him last fall after I went to the Bruce Lee event, and have been bumping up against references enough that I thought I should learn more.  It is an anecdote to all the stories of doing what some outside force is telling you to do.  To know what the price of your stance is, and to willingly pay it for the betterment of all is a courageous act.  It gives me hope amidst all the turmoil in the world: a quiet truth.
Mural of Gordon Hirabayashi/L Herlevi, Oct 2013
 

Friday, February 21, 2014

Happy

Woke up at 5 am to notice my computer was flashing at me, turned it off and fell back asleep.  Had a weird theatre-performance dream, lots of people, the performers mixed in the seats with the audience, and somehow I never had a seat, nor knew where I was supposed to be.  There were people I didn't  recognize, not from our class, performing; I guess we needed extra people?  I wasn't in any of the first part, and kept being told I was in someone else's seat, so kept having to move.  Then I was in the aisle, and my clothing got tangled up with someone else's, a woman, and she looked at a necklace I was wearing, and admired it and said it was for "womb" protection (it was green, and there were flat beads that looked like coiled-up snakes, it was actually a beautiful necklace) I responded, but I can't remember what I said ("I need that" maybe?)  Then it was intermission, and I couldn't figure out where I was supposed to be, and then I was trying to eat this massive thing of ice cream and I couldn't figure out what to do with it, and someone else walked over with a similar thing and then it was funny.  Also, very heavy, there were ornaments attached to it like a Christmas tree.  I was kinda' left out in the dream, and couldn't figure anything out, still, woke up exceptionally happy (and late, it was after 7 am.)

Shit.  And then I'm looking on facebook, and I see a post from my former sister-in-law that my Dad got rushed to the hospital Wednesday night.  I'm glad I saw the post, but I can't get ahold of anyone.  The first time I tried to call, the call went into some weird "number is not responding" place, and then dialed again and finally got the answering machine.  In limbo.

My sister got back to me, he's staying an extra night in the hospital, maybe something not working in the top part of his heart?  Inexplicably, they were going to release him...I guess they botched the tests, so have to re-do them.

Went for a walk during lunch, originally to take pictures of the trees that were in bloom, but decided to go visit the frogs.  Four came over to the glass while I stood by, perhaps it was time for lunch?  Still no word, which I'm hoping is good news.  A friend wrote me to say he thought that particular hospital had the best cardiac unit in the area, so good to know that, too.  Okay, probably not a heart attack though blood pressure is all over the map.

Still, keeping my fingers crossed.  Just about too late to catch a bus up north.  I have to work tonight until 10 pm, but my brother thinks they will send him home later today, so, still waiting to hear.

Thursday, February 20, 2014

More future twists

Just realized my shirt had been on backward for the last two hours and no one said anything.  Good for a laugh on my end at least.  Had some bad news earlier in the day and being in class made me completely forget about it, I'm just completely present.  And the time went by fast, she said we'd get out early, but it's already past 11 pm.

Found out that the ETI (can't recall what that stands for) which is our program's equivalent to the second year of a master's program in acting, will probably be offered next year.  Unclear about the future after that point.  It would be the follow-up to the work we are doing this year, only it'll be a wider recruitment than just us (and there are three years of Meisner students who haven't had a second year of training.)  There will be an application and audition process.  Tempted to apply now, when I thought about it before, it seemed impossible to do without a sugar daddy of some sort to cover rent and everything else.  It's 33 hours/week, which is difficult to work around.  (3x the intensity of what we are doing now, but includes: voice, movement, Alexander Technique, stage combat, Shakespeare, scene work, etc.)  I still don't have any idea of how I would swing it, but this year has worked out, so maybe...I can always decline if I get in and trying to survive without a full-time job seems impossible.  'Cos even if I had some help with tuition, I still need to pay rent, medical, food, etc.  But there aren't a lot of intensive (acting) training programs that want you if you are older.  I'm not old, and I don't feel old, but I'm also not in my 20's.

Need to come up with a letter to my scene partner (because I wrote to him, and we both talk about it.)  And my coach asked I wanted to meet this weekend, but I haven't done enough work on the monologues to meet again, still it was a kick in the pants to start doing more.  I think I will opt to not stay on the audition wait-list, it's only $15 for printing fees, and even if you don't get an audition spot, your resume/head-shot will go into the packets the auditors get (general auditions), but I just don't have time to go in for the head-shot in the near future.  My days are filled with work, volunteering and rehearsing.  I guess I should call and set the appointment...that would be something active.  And look for a new place to live.

Downer

Woke up thinking about the human immune system, and if it's true that much of it exists in the gut, then how do you bring it back into some form of balance after a course of antibiotics knocks it out of whack?  I read yesterday that we have over one trillion "other" organisms that live in, or on us; most in symbiotic relationship.  And each individual's biota is unique to them.  A typical pro-biotic replaces only a handful of those.  Before my immune-system went crazy, I was on two hard-core antibiotics for a hand infection.  It might be coincidental, but since then, the things my body won't tolerate have increased, and I've been almost continually in pain, though the degree fluctuates.  Today it's bad.  I feel like it's worth exploring, not just for me.  Don't get me wrong, the drugs are a godsend, but not a cure.  They slow down progression, but don't heal the underlying issue.  Maybe that's impossible, but maybe it's not.  Anyway, feel a bit in a fog today.

Was also up half the night listening to reports of clashes and protests (Ukraine, Nigeria, CAR, Thailand, Venezuela, Syria, Iraq) and crack-downs on democracy (journalists in Egypt.)  Woke up disheartened as well.  All this violence.  Violence within ourselves, against ourselves (auto-immunity, self-loathing, whatever) and violence against one another (whether warranted or not.)  Were people truly able to live with tolerance for one another or did it only seem that way because one side was repressing the other into submission and silence?  Will humans ever be able to live side-by-side, accepting the ambiguity of the other, accepting the inherent uncertainty of ever finding absolute truths, of tolerating beliefs that are different than our own instead of needing to kill the other belief/believer so that we can be certain we are right?  It's been our (human) history to kill, to control by force.  It's also been our shared history to come to solutions without force (political transitions in Estonia, Lithuania, Latvia, Portugal, Czech Republic, S. Africa, and the Papacy come to mind in recent years.)  Things get so unbalanced, they need to reset, is the only means for this bloodshed?  Is that the sacrifice for balance?  And even if that does settle it for now, how do you rebuild societies, community after so much hostility?  How do neighbors ever trust one another again after taking sides against each other?  How do we live with uneasy peace?  Is our only option endless retaliation or can we choose differently?  Is peace a real option?  At the risk of being simplistic, under the circumstances, what's the most radical act?  To love? To share? To listen? To attempt to understand the other individual, the other point of view?  To decide for the majority good, softening the blow to the opposition, even it's not in your best interest?  (These have been done in the past, are we too divided to pursue them now?)

There are good things happening in the world, this just seems to be dominating right now.

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Late, long week

Got an email tonight (thankfully) reminding me that I am working tomorrow night (and Friday.)  So, every night I don't have class, I'm working.  Ugh. Tonight was fun, we had to sing again, and I forgot the lyrics to a song I know pretty well, and we have to have a song and an object either Thursday or Sunday...I lost track, for the Spoon River character.  I wore a fairly constrictive skirt and then had to crawl across the floor trying to find my partner and then wrestle him off a filthy mattress (I was blindfolded.  There were obstacles.)  I only mention the latter because I'm trying to convince myself that I really need to take a shower tonight.  We all had over-the-top physical actions we had to do in order to figure out the one thing the character wants.  I have ideas for the object, but not for the song.  The song just has to get us in the door, so to speak.  Another means to prepare for the first moment, to get you on the stage.  Now I feel itchy.

It's all fun, but I feel short on time to get prepared.  And I'm always nervous before class, I like to have a lot of downtime before class starts: know that I'm not rushed, that I'm there on time.  On Sundays I usually leave 2-3 hours before class starts, otherwise, I just pace around the house.  It might be partly the introversion.  Almost finished with the book: "Quiet. The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking," by Susan Cain.  It's due back, but because there are so many holds, I can't recheck it out; trying to finish it.  She talks about people needing to recharge, especially when you stretch past your normal limits, even if you love what you are doing, it can still be draining.  Makes all my need for solitude, for walking being my favorite part of my day, and for needing to be in nature make sense.  And I'm grateful to realize that I'm not the only one that needs those things.   I love singing and performing and being around people, but I really need to retreat and be alone afterwards.  (When I was in Finland, I was like a caged dog, because there was no time to be alone.  I could feel myself snap.)  And reading that a lot of other people also need that, is a sorta' reassurance and permission that I can take that for myself.

At least need to wash my feet.  Ciao.

Monday, February 17, 2014

Too much sleep

I really need to write stuff down.  I felt loved last night, but also the feedback was helpful, and I'd like to remember it, I'll need to figure out how to get back to it.  Also, I've been feeling kinda' superficial, and that I really haven't done anything at all, but maybe I really did wrestle with deep shit over the past year (years, but a lot last year) and maybe that does make a difference even if I can't always tell.  (And I really can't remember now.)  I remember struggling, wrestling, fighting to figure out what I believed was true, as opposed to what anyone around me believed, what I was told was true, when I was younger...and I've revisited it many times.  Things like faith, and God, and spirituality, and what the point of living is, or existence.  What holds me back from life?  And out of 7 billion people, how can it possibly matter that I'm here?  I'd like to believe that it does, but I don't have an answer.

And also as I get older, because it stands out more, learning to let myself follow my own path when most people around me follow a different one (societal hoops we are supposed to all jump through to be "normal.")  And learning not to judge other people's choices, but also realizing that I'm judging myself much harsher on those things than any of the people close to me are.  (That doesn't mean I have less or more worth as a human being, just means our values are different.)  And now finding a community of people that are choosing similar paths outside of the mainstream. There's nothing wrong with the mainstream, it's just never been where I was heading.  I tried, but felt empty.  (Kept trying to go to grad school, but kept burning out, balking.  There's a lot about medicine I'd like to know, because I think it would make me useful in the world, but I can't do med school.)  The things you pursue need to have meaning for you, at your core, when no one else is looking, but you.

I went to the Market and people watched and tried to finish a library book earlier, but the whole time I was thinking I wanted to sleep, so I came home and took a nap.  Need to work on Spoon River stuff, too.  Don't completely understand it, but that's no excuse not to do something.  We need one item of rehearsal clothing for tomorrow.  Have no idea what I have that she would wear.  Modest.  Constricting.  And in her one chance to come back and get something off of her chest, what would that be and to whom would she say it?

Sunday, February 16, 2014

Scratchy

Did my mirror tonight, which was also a huge weight off of my shoulders.  Ended up singing: Bobby Mcgee, Defying Gravity, Dreaming is Free and a song a friend of mine wrote when we were in college, also, lots of low growling and my throat is raw from a combination of those.  Someone said I was fearless and someone else said something about there not being any artifice.  And something about "joy?"  There wasn't enough of a break between the two of us to write it all down to remember, and now my notes seem cryptic.  (And I was embodied and present, so why can't I do that in my exercises?  At least I know I am capable.  Just need to find the mechanism, or I suppose the permission and commitment to let myself be that when I am doing scene work with someone else.  This felt simpler.  And the feeding of circumstances/coaching, helped to embody the actions.)

I didn't cry at the end, and I was concerned about that, that I hadn't broke.  I asked about it during our dinner break and she said I broke plenty during the course of the exercise.  (I did however cry, unexpectedly, during Spoon River work, when my partner read.  Someone answering you over time and space; someone heard you; it mattered to them that you lived, though you didn't ever know it when you lived, because we don't always tell each other things that matter.  It's the characters, but it's true in life as well.)

Been just torrential rain coming down for the past six hours.  Need to do something for my throat.

Saturday, February 15, 2014

Rain, lots of rain

Suddenly feel very free.  Had my coaching session earlier.  Did not get "up on it's feet" but we did cut both monologues to under 50 seconds with a good thru-line for both and emotional changes.  There is a similarity between them because on a continuum of drama to comedy, they both are closer to a center line.  Will have to make the women distinct enough, they have different backgrounds and points of view.  I'll keep looking, but I like these two women.  She (the coach) talked about how they are different and also said something interesting about how we all have to teach other people how to love us, which is as much true for life as it is for these characters, and perhaps that's why these "love" stories are written over and over again, and why we keep watching them.

I also feel excited, like I know that I want to find a way to continue to do this, two to three times a week for the foreseeable future.  And that requires finding a way to keep my expenses down, and a way to make more money than I do now.  And having any sort of certainty frightens me, as if just saying it will jinx it.  (Talked to a couple of the housemates about the possibility of leasing the house and also have started looking at ads of what other housing is available.  Not sure what I will do.)  And then I found a great monologue in the collection I wasn't very hot on, and a play I want to stage.  I have time, but will start looking into how to make that happen.

It was pouring after the coaching.  I went downstairs and had lunch, hoping it would let up.  Staring out the window at the rain, thinking of falling asleep in the sun and wondering what changed after that point.  Unwanted thoughts.  Writing.  The waitress came by and complimented my handwriting.  Brought coffee.  Still the rain fell.  It was time to leave.  Walking to the bus, the first person I encountered, red-rimmed eyes, always breaking my heart and I'm left feeling ineffectual.  The second, brushing his teeth, beer in the other hand.  The third filing her nails, slightly out of the rain.  Publicly private moments because that's what the option is right now.

The bus is packed, smelling of Windex.  It gives me a headache.  It inches along northbound in heavy traffic.  Home again and I need to sing more.  I think I have enough songs, but I've been assured that I will forget when the time comes to sing them.  Hopefully, I have enough buried in my memory that something will come out automatically, lord knows I have enough song lyrics occupying my brain.  Hopefully, I have the willpower to force them out "on voice."  There are only seven mirrors left to go.  I imagine we will all be done with ours by Thursday.

Are we half-way through now?  I've lost track of time.

Thursday, February 13, 2014

Always something

Crap.  Just found out the owners of our house want to rent out the whole house by May 1.  Possibly, we can all agree to keep the house as a group, but will need to talk about it.  It would be slightly more expensive than it is now, but cheaper than rents around town which seem to be running $700 + utilities for room in a shared house.  Which is crazy, since wages haven't really increased all that much for most people, and you have to share a bathroom and a kitchen.  I can't pay $800 in rent.  And most of my housemates are working at low-wage jobs.  Greed.  Not just landlords, but the housing market in general.  News reports always use it as a barometer of the economy, but if wages haven't gone up, who exactly can afford $500,000 for a two-bedroom fixer upper?  I remember seeing a house right before the crash selling for almost $300,000.  The sellers said it was a deal, it was uninhabitable: it had to be completely rewired, and it was falling apart.  Houses and properties will just be sold off to foreign investors (like a lot of the world, actually) and we won't own the soil in our native land anymore, and will have no say in what's done with it.  It's crazy, but hey, make a quick buck today, screw future generations, and all is good, yeah?  Rant of the day.

Some classmates said they'd help me move if it comes to that.  I'll look around.  Did last exercise tonight, went surprisingly well.  I was nervous I'd prepared it wrong because the heart of it wasn't another person, but rather something I wanted (to open a hostel w/a restaurant attached to it.)  And we were ex-lovers, I had left for a dream job in another city, thinking she'd follow, but she didn't and got on with her life.  I got homesick and missed the kid, so moved back.  My secret was that she had just co-signed a loan for me for the space...not only was it a dream, it was also forgiveness.  Now onto using all this with scene-work.

No mirror work tonight.  Mirror work is one person standing across the room from everyone else, facing them, the group is the mirror to whatever the individual does.  Situations are fed to you, and you become them, and everyone else mirrors you until the end.  The purpose is to break through the masks we all have to survive in the world, and to realize how it felt when you were able to do that.

The moon was gorgeous as it rose. First time I saw it, the Cascades were shrounded in billowing clouds, and it was peaking up above those.  Then I saw it again as I crossed by the fountain at Seattle Center.  I kept asking people if they'd seen it.  As I walked around I want to point it out to everyone who is looking down at the ground or at a phone.  Only Robin said she had. 

The world is a beautiful place.  Look up and notice.

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Thaw

Looked in a mirror right before I left the house and realize that my face had broken out.  Nothing I could really do about it.  Later at work, a friend walked up to me out of the blue to tell me she thought I looked beautiful.  It was touching, how often do you get told that?  (It's like the two classmates who said they didn't really notice my forehead dent, it looks like a canyon to me.  We are too self-conscious about what we deem are our physical flaws.  Other people view us in a kinder light.)

The flora seems undeterred by the recent freezing spell and snow: pushing out leaves and buds and flowers now.  Hellebores are in full bloom.  Crocus, too, though they were out before the cold snap.  Stopped by my garden on my way to a mason bee workshop, and had purple broccoli and what might be collards going all out.  Might attempt hosting mason bees this spring if I can find a spot with enough flowering plants for them, they are only active mid-March to late May and eat only pollen.  Tiny things, I wouldn't have recognized them in the wild if I had not seen them up close.  You can rent a kit and return it in the fall, I'll probably do that.

Decided on a monologue (but I'll bring all three) and figured out a couple more songs that I could sing, so need to memorize the monologue and work up the guts to volunteer to do my mirror exercise tomorrow.  I think half the class has gone at this point...I don't want to go last.  I also suspect that while the prospect is still scary, if less than it was initially, it will also be liberating.  I don't know any opera nor can I think of a jazz standard I know (sung by a woman.)  I suppose I could do, These are a Few of My Favorite Things, if I had to; pretty much a jazz standard at this point.  There are at least three other parts that terrify me...the speech and the initial mirror being the main two: my thoughts tend to be scattered, and what if I don't have any impulses?  I do worry too much.  What will be, will be.  None of that will change in the next two weeks, and I'll have to go sooner or later anyway.

Peace.  Have a song and a monologue to learn.

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Why not?

Need to: take up more space in all ways.  And figure out how to tap into the emotion.  I had thought I had some, but it all came flooding out after the exercise, and I needed it before I walked in; the set up was certainly strong enough.  I need to give myself permission to be on the stage.  Also, I think I should volunteer to do my mirror exercise Thursday or Sunday, as I really need to get over this self-consciousness when singing in front of people.  It's sorta' ironic how much space I can take up at home and whenever I travel anywhere, and also how much I was singing out last night, but then again, I wasn't singing a solo.  Why am I being so timid?  I have a right to be there, I've been working with the same group for 5 months.  It's not the introversion.  I have a right to exist, to take up space, to be in the room, to be on the stage...and they are giving it to me...what's holding me back from accepting that?  From owning it?

Really enjoy working with my partner.

Monologue.

Monday, February 10, 2014

Monday

Just sang a concert with the Finnish Choir.  We sang "courting/marriage" songs.  We had scheduled this last fall.  It went well, especially considering that we just switched directors and hadn't sung these songs much since the summer.  People told me afterward that they enjoyed it.  We only had accompaniment on two of the songs (one piano, one accordion.)  We sang Tuljak toward the end, I hope between the four of us (sopranos), the fast part came out, I know I missed a lot of it.  Someone told me that they appreciated that I looked like I was enjoying myself...I do.  I was watching the video from Finland, it's possible I move around a little much when I sing...but they are dance songs (polkas and waltzes.)  I remembered this morning that I had had some tiffs with people on tour, and we still speak to each other, so I guess I have a few more than my family (related to what I wrote yesterday.)

And for the record, I have not maliciously spoken about anyone in the ensemble (nor the choir) behind their backs.  I am capable of being malicious, I'm not a saint, but I have not done it.  Here, I generally only speak of my own personal growth, struggles and frustrations (exceptions being show reflections, which have at times been opinionated.)  (I worked with someone once, artistically, who would regularly go on rants to all of us, thinking someone in the group had been trying to undermine him, but it was always so vague.  I always ended up feeling guilty.  Feeling accused of something.  Feeling like I needed to apologize to clear the air, even though I never had persecuted him in any way-I don't think anyone in that group had.  He was brilliant, but I was always uneasy around him because of it.  He was never direct, we were always walking on eggshells.  And that was destructive to that ensemble: simmering unspoken accusations, creating mistrust.  All of us being punished for an unspoken wrong.)  I know it's hard to be direct, but that has to come first, in both directions, ie, if you're gonna accuse someone, you should ask them about it, and clear it there first.  Otherwise the vagueness really does breed mistrust.  And you can't be fully open artistically without fully being able to trust that it's safe.  Lack of specificity leaves me feeling accused and less open.

From highs of the concert to lows when I got home.  I spent a half-hour digging through the garbage to try to make space for actual garbage...someone filled the can up with clothing (I'll deal with it later, for now I bagged it up and put it in the entryway; H&M will give you credit for it.)  The problem is, the people I live with seem to only think about themselves, right now, and I always have to clean up after them because they a) live with other people; b) live with other people that might need to use the same space in five minutes.  (I get some money off rent, not really enough, to make sure the house is functioning, so not an option to ignore it.  And doesn't seem to work to keep mentioning it. I just feel like I'm nagging.)  It would be fine if you lived alone, but doesn't work in a group, you have to consider a bigger picture, it creates too much tension if you never do that, ie, people fighting over dirty dishes left in the sink for days or weeks. Ugh.  Haven't built an exercise around that, though I've tried once or twice.  ("Live and let live" is nice in theory, but too much chaos in a living situation becomes a health and a general safety issue.  And I don't want to be held responsible for someone else's damage to the rental house.  It's more than the garbage.)

I've finally scheduled my coaching session.  Have gotten one of the plays down to three possible monologues...I know, just pick one, the world won't end when I do.  And I need to memorize it.  Have not chosen a contrasting piece, but she said to bring something even if I'm not particularly excited about it.  (I don't have a situation for my second half of class tomorrow yet.  Have the first half.  I just emailed my partner about the relationship.)  Still need to get a haircut and schedule the photo session...free time is not something I have much of.  At least I have the resume, she wanted me to bring both. 

Time feels like it's flying by.  The concert was fun, but I'm glad I can check that off the list.  And we have a couple more coming up soon: Kalevala Day and a spring concert.  The other choir is singing in German now, so need to figure out how to pronounce that, too.  Not enough sleep, gonna be a long day.

Sunday, February 9, 2014

After class

Am an emotional wreck.  Trying to sing songs I've sung before an can't get through them...seeing if I remember to breath and relax my chest if I can make it all the way through.  It's the music that's wrecking me, I was fine before I started singing.

After class.  Connections between point A and point B too convoluted.  I sorta' knew it'd be a problem walking into it tonight as it was a circumstance I came up with for last Tuesday and I no longer felt connected to it.  No comments on what happened between us, so I guess nothing did.  I don't know what to do with that.  She later said I needed to figure out who I can fight with...maybe family, everyone else has consequences...the ex with the records and I are on okay terms, but for the most part, I can't seem to be able to speak my mind to anyone (except family) and they stay.  I have a friend I can argue with, but it's different, we never blow up on each other, it's never personal.  And the co-dependant trait has me taking responsibility for everything before I let myself blame anyone else (that, and all the messages out there that say I need to take responsibility for my life and everything in it. That you're not supposed to blame anyone for anything.  That you/I need to figure out your/my role in the situation and own up to it...really messes with the mind.  Suppression.)

Anyway, hopefully, Tuesday's will go well.  The chair work was good, I felt like we read each other, and not just the obvious things.  It's nice to get the chair work in before class, then when the exercise comes up, we're still connected.  Hard to do on a weeknight, as I get there right before class starts, because I have to leave from work.

I get home and I look at a picture from childhood and it's like the floodgates that won't open in class break free and I start crying.  I guess it's direct and simple, but when I try to do that in the hallway, nothing works.  I feel like I'm trying to force emotion.  I still haven't figured out what to do before walking on stage/set/whatever...I'm trying to use stuff from class, but I'm no closer to it than I was 8 months ago.  I feel rushed.  I feel self-conscious.  I feel like I missed a memo somewhere that everyone else got...I don't know how to do this (the person B, the one that enters second.  If the action is set up well for person A, I can do that one.)  My emotions and imagination feel like a stubborn child.  So, how do I speak to that child?  I should make one of these last two scenarios happy.  (It's really cold in here, like someone left a window wide open.)

On another bright side, people brought food into class, Spanish and Irish.  The Irish bread was good, and the other temporarily tamed my never ending (somewhat inexplicable) homesickness for Spain.

Peace.

Snowy Saturday Night

Finally got the snow I was waiting for.  Left the house at 1 pm to make a 2 pm showing of A Great Wilderness playing at the Rep, barely made it.  It was sunny and cold.  Stayed for the talk-back after.  (Had mixed feelings based on comments regarding show prior to seeing it.  Chose this performance because there was a post-play discussion.  Originally was watching it with those criticisms in mind, but then thought about it from the discussion.  It was powerful...I'll probably write more later, because I wrote alot about it earlier in a journal.)  It was the third world premiere this season (Bo-Nita and The Hound of the Baskervilles being the other two.)

Later, I was sitting in Dick's Drive-In waiting for it to be time to go to a movie across the street at SIFF (Seattle International Film Festival) Cinema and writing, and finally walked outside and was surprised that it was snowing.  Didn't seem like it would stick, but by the time the movie was over, it had.  There's 1/2" to 1" at my house already.

The film was the documentary Walking the Camino at 7 pm, which also had a Q&A.  I pretty much just needed it for my soul.  The filmmaker did a wonderful job with capturing emotional experiences, the doubts, the injuries, the community, and the hardships of doing it.  Before the film played she asked how many people had walked it, and then how many wanted to.  Most people raised their hands for the latter.  After the film was over, she asked again, and less hands went up.  It's a tough thing to do, but it was the most meaningful/important decision I've ever made.  (And I miss Spain.)  Taking Meisner this year might be the second.  Both experiences have been that profound and life-changing.

Anyway, no busses came through the tunnel going my way for over an hour-and-a-half.  (I left the theatre just before 9 pm, and didn't catch a bus northbound until 10:47.)  I eventually walked up to the street and caught one.  Someone originally thought it was because the busses needed to chain up, but then said it was because people had abandoned cars or something.  The bus I finally caught didn't seem to have any issues and was on schedule.  My toes were freezing.  Wore the wrong shoes for snow.  Pretty though.
9 pm, Feb 8/L Herlevi 2014


10:20 ish, Feb 8/L Herlevi 2014

Saturday, February 8, 2014

Dream about "clown"

Still not snowing.  Had a bunch of weird dreams about Meisner (invading all parts of my life now), last one involved being jealous of someone and realizing that I should just start calling it out and wanting for us to walk into class and go, but then realized we weren't scheduled for that day, and then later, that we weren't actually partners.  Still I wanted to run with it, because I was tapping a strong vein of emotion (more than jealousy) and I wanted to see where it would go.  It felt really alive and free.  Woke up happy, I guess because I'd hit an intensity of emotion I hadn't been able to, and even if it was at odds with who I might want to admit I am, I wanted it to be witnessed.  And why do I get mad if someone acts where I didn't?  Gets credit for an idea I had but sat on?  Time to act baby, instead of always waiting, thinking the opportunity will still be there way in the future.

Also had a dream about a clown routine, an idea for one.  The clown was polling passersbys and writing the results on a white board, but I wasn't sure what question the clown should be asking and I was asking for advice on that.  And the answer she kept giving me was to ask me the question, "What does it mean to 'wander lonely as a cloud'?"  Wordsworth (I wandered lonely as a cloud.)  Imagery of the poem fitting for the dream, and star-gazing, somehow.  Feel like I'm back in my college romantic poetry class.  I didn't think that answered the question I had, but maybe it does.  What does it mean, and how does that relate to the clown?  What does the clown do next?

This clown needs to learn lyrics.  Ciao.

(A blue jay just started hollering outside my window until I opened the blinds and looked at it.  Guess I should get up, it is after 9.)

Friday, February 7, 2014

Always Waiting for Snow

Snow everywhere but here.  Late in the day, a 30% chance appears back in the forecast.  But as the sky darkens I can see the moon and the stars.  It's not snow, but it's pretty.

For every nine works-in-progress performances I go see, I'd really like to see one show that knocks it out of the park.  I enjoy seeing the process of artistic vision being birthed, and I'm glad it's happening, and there is a lot of talent here.  But I'd also like to see more work where all that talent comes together in a unified vision of what they are trying to present: artistic director, tech director, sound/light/set designers, costumer, stage manager, writer, and actors sitting down and saying this is the story we want to tell with this show.  And working through all the permutations and experiments of rehearsal, and right before (or during) tech week agreeing again what that story is (even if it's changed since the beginning) and eliminating elements that distract from that, weakening the narrative whether that be gratuitous words, movement, sound, nudity, visual, whatever isn't needed to tell the actual story, and egos contained within the bigger picture rather than being able to distract from the common story.  It does happen.  A pleasure and an exhilaration.  When it happens, I get fired up for art.  For three hours and $50/ticket, I wish it would happen more.  Everything that happens on that stage when the audience is there, in the service of the narrative that you want to present.  You know, I'm rooting for you anyway (generic "you"), but I like having my socks knocked off.

I think most people who go see the work are on your side, we want you to succeed.  Let yourself.

Thursday, February 6, 2014

How does one conjure "joy"?

Where is "joy" on the spectrum of emotions?  It was suggested I go for joy on one of these last exercises.  (I need to reverse one of these last three as well, go as far down the road as possible, and then reverse the outcome...not sure which one I'll do that with.  I have one exercise and one emotional state in my mind for Sunday, but neither of them are "joyful," at the moment.  They could both be tweaked.  Lord knows I've changed these all until I walk through the door.)  I've tried "celebrating/joy" before, but have not landed it.  I feel like it's quiet, quieter than triumph, deeper than happy. Is it the fleeting sense or the constant one?  Is it the moment when you witness beauty, or when you realize you've won?  In my head, joy feels private, but I think I need to expand my thoughts on that.  A tendency isn't the last word, or the truth even, just a habit formed over time.  Habits can be re-examined.  Broken.  Liberated.

If "happy" is a state of mind, an outlook on life, a choice on one's point-of-view, and "triumph" is allowing yourself to acknowledge a win, even small gains toward something you really want (and the result of allowing yourself to want and commit to something to an end point also the result of an active choice), than "joy" is an unexpected gift, momentary, a fleeting response.  Yeah...how do I conjure that and make it distinct?  Eh...challenges are a good thing.

Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Quiet

The last couple of nights I've dreamt of snow and then was surprised that there wasn't any falling from the sky when I woke up.  Low 20's, before the wind-chill, bright blue skies.  People camped out for the Seahawks parade.  Contained chaos.  Very quiet elsewhere.

Still trying to pin down monologues, and need to set an appointment for photos.  About to go into our last exercise for the year in class.  I still have a make-up, since we didn't get to ours last night.  And we got our Spoon River Anthology characters.  I'll have to find her fire.  I'm feeling wishy-washy about her (Emily Sparks), but I did put her on every list I made when I tried to choose, so there must've been something I liked there.  I'm just at that point where I feel limited by having made a choice; I go through this with everything...it's one of my walls.  Looking longingly at all the choices that are currently closed off to me so I can commit fully to one, right now.  It's only ever superficial until you commit.  There's no depth when you constantly look over your shoulder at what you could've had.  (Grass is greener...etc.)

Also trying to meditate (again).  I'd like to do it at night, but I always just fall asleep.  It's such a pleasant state of being (floaty, half-waken, stress-free), that when I meditate in the morning, I have a hard time making myself leave that state and get out of the house on time.  I don't actually know what I'm doing, trying to make it up.

Need to have someone work on my back, shoulder blade is completely locked up.  Been that way for a couple of weeks, but waiting to pay down my deductible.  Not a pleasant state of being.

Cheers.

Monday, February 3, 2014

It's a gift, really

The moon, as it set tonight, was a massive orange sliver, dropping heavily toward the skyline.  It's cold.  Really cold in the tunnel.  Had to wait awhile for my bus.  In the front, sports talk.  Next to me, a woman who needed to rant about bus service cuts; she was right in a lot of things, but stuck on a loop of thought and not really listening to anyone...I just wanted to get home.  I tried to look out the window and focus on seeing the moon.

Went to a show, on the theatre pass.  I dozed off during the first act, again, because the person in front of me blocked my view of most of the stage, it makes it really hard for me to pay attention.  I have no idea what happened in the first act.  I was awake for the entire second act, it was staged more forward and everyone was standing, so I could see them.  Sad but true.  (It was my fault for sitting where I did.)  I stayed awake for the entirety of  "Reading to Vegetables," but probably dozed a little during the clown show.  It's not that I'm bored.  Just hard for me to sit for any length of time and stay awake.  (Except on an airplane, I can fall asleep anywhere but on an airplane.)

When I was younger I tried out for the local community musicals, got in a couple (non-singing roles.)  At the time, I thought I did it because all of my friends were doing it.  Then in college, I did theatre because I wanted to get over my fear of public speaking, and I wanted friends.  It helped with the latter, if not the former.  But I think I've been continually drawn to it because I want to perform.  Because I've always wanted to perform, I just never felt like I could fully admit it, commit to that idea of myself.  I had to make excuses to let myself do it.  I'm trying to let myself committ to that now.  But aside from the glamour of movie stars and tabloids, it's a strange thing to choose.  A difficult thing to do, in how much you have to give of yourself.  People say of artists (or others) who are "successful" and kill themselves that they had so much fortune, and how selfish they are, but no amount of money will ever be able to chase any lurking demons away.  I guess you have to face them down and somehow heal yourself, or they will always haunt you, and sometimes you lose.  The drugs, the fame, the money...they don't fill in the holes, remove the pain, they just cover it up, it's still there when you are alone and facing yourself.  These people, in those moments, are the same as anyone else.  Broken like everyone else.  Maybe more so, willingly exploring, as they do (for us), the darkest and brightest corners of our humanity, and shining a light there for the briefest of moments.  Holding our hands so we are less afraid to look there, in ourselves.  We are a little less alone, a little less alienated when we bear witness to it, and on some level we are healed, we find a little bit of redemption in the shared experience.  Maybe we should just say, "thank you."

Sunday, February 2, 2014

Sunday

Class was early because of the football game (GO HAWKS!)  Was gonna go out, but sat around with my housemate and watched the game with him.  (That was ridiculous.)  I was covered in green body paint (well, arms and neck) and really wanted to wash it off so as to not stain any more clothes.  Washed it off during halftime. (Fantasy was getting the part of Elphaba in Wicked in London; was gonna dress up and go sing Defying Gravity to the person I realized had been supporting me all along.)  The body paint was for class, not the game.

My task went better, I was committed to doing it, kept doing it, had a vein, made a commitment, knew who it was pinned on...so, that worked.  She didn't say much though, only commented that it was something I wanted and committed to...not sure how it went overall (she spent more time talking to my partners, there were three in the exercise.)  I like having three people (it's usually just two), it actually helps me to relax my focus and when I do that, I pick up more of what's going on.  Also, I did follow impulses early on, my first partner gave me something which made me cry in gratitude, and that was genuine.  I do need to figure out how to make the connection work with only two people.

I was in a crappy mood most of the day, not sure why.  Wanted to walk out of class, but refrained.  I'm fine now.  And suddenly find myself with free time.

RIP Philip Seymour Hoffman, a gifted actor.  Chased by the demons of addiction.  Far too young.

Saturday, February 1, 2014

Saturday night

The sliver of the waxing moon dropped below the horizon hours ago.  The stars are out and the sky is clear, and it's cold.  Coming into another cold snap, not like the rest of the country, but it's been a mild winter here so far.  The trees have begun to push energy up and out into the formation of buds and leaves.  There were stinging nettles at the market this morning.  The man said two weeks early, but the peak of it is usually April.  We're barely a month into winter.

Went to my first clown performance tonight.  It's such a different experience from "dramatic theatre" that I think I need to see more.  I'm aware of that from the performance side of things, since I've studied both forms, but it's interesting to watch: very physical, lots of breaking of the fourth wall and interacting with the audience.  The physical is lovely.

Went thriftstore shopping earlier, trying to find something for class.  No luck really, so will have to make that work into the exercise.  Tried on this cool victorian blouse, but it had a large hole in the elbow: it was 150 years old, fit, too.  Changed who I'm landing my exercise on.  Not the fear voice, just that while walking, I realized I was getting support from somewhere I wasn't expecting...anyway, I'm doing the same exercise/task, but changing the tone.

(Someone's phone alarm is vibrating on my ceiling, I might go mad.)

Accidently erased all of my camera memory earlier today: that's one way of letting go.
Be Happy, Feb 1/L Herlevi 2014