Sunday, August 30, 2015

Deadlines should be good for something

...but I still don't like anything I've written.

Missed the bus coming home from a party tonight, went to the grocery store, half hoping to run into friends that live in the area, but ended up buying chili and a baguette and going out to catch a different bus, and then walking the rest of the way home.  The wind blowing, somehow sounding soft tonight.  Broken branches and leaves scatter the ground.  I think the trees might like the wind, an opportunity to shake off dead weight.  As one stuck in the same place, the same aspect, how else could you get this done?

This writing thing has gotten to the point that I wake up, shoot straight up in bed, and scream (or a more silent version of that...I have housemates.)

I must've fallen back asleep this morning.  And this is my amusing anecdote of the day.  I dreamt a bunch of my friends were in a show, and I was wondering why I hadn't heard about the audition.  (In waking life, I have seen three of my friends' shows over the past week.)  The stage manager eventually walked up to me, took my right arm by the wrist and the elbow, looked me in the face, and said, "This is your lucky day."  Then I woke up.  Half-hoping my arm would feel better (not really), or that I'd have a story idea (nope.)  And actually, I don't even know what it meant in the context of the dream, since I woke up at that point.  Anyway...I went to a party later in the afternoon, for real.  I know that the person in the dream and the person whose party it was know each other, not sure how well; I've only met dream person a few times, at events that we both worked at.  Out of the whole city, and a decent-sized theatre scene, he was one of ten people at the party when I got there.  Thought about mentioning it, but didn't:  1) Wasn't sure he'd remember me; 2) it's an odd thing to tell someone.  I did tell the host after he'd left.  The host thought the other one probably would've found it amusing.  Still don't know why it's my "lucky day."

Wrote a story this morning that has nothing to do with this other thing (and went for a walk later to look at the aftermath of the wind.)  Someone had posted a video and it reminded me of the encounter I'd had with a bull, on my first trip to Spain.  Anyway, I wrote a story about that.  I remember I'd written home about it at the time, and my mom wrote back saying it was probably because of my red bandana.  (My parents said the same thing about me when I used to get singled out for extra searches in airports; it happened a lot.  On one trip, both my aunt and my sister-in-law were also searched, and they don't look remotely anarchistic.  So, I don't think it's the bandana.)  I may have been wearing orange pants on the occasion with the bull, maybe that upset him.  He basically wouldn't let me pass by, we're talking head down and braying.  Eventually, after about ten minutes of our standoff, this Spanish man came along and I asked if I could walk with him explaining about the bull, he agreed.  And of course when we got near the bull it just stood there grazing as if nothing had happened at all, seemingly pleased with his mark on my journey, making me look as if I was overreacting, but at least I finally got past. (It reminded me of a Gary Larson cartoon.)

Well, I've got a couple of hours to try to write.

Saturday, August 29, 2015

Stormy

The storm turned out to be more of a wind event than rain.  Currently under a bubble of blue sky, and managed to get around the lake this morning, rain threatening, but not manifesting, until I'd already gotten back in the front door, and even then, not heavy nor lasting long.  But it is quite windy.  Picked up after I'd started walking, tree debris airborne, everywhere.  Part of a big-leaf maple broke off the trunk and fell across at least one lane of Aurora.  I neither saw nor heard it fall, but I think it had been recent as someone was up on the road trying to call it in, and someone else had gone up to direct the traffic around it.  Later, I heard a crack and saw another large (dead) part of a tree fall on a hillside above some parked cars.  Overall, lots of willow and maple branches falling.  The first wind in a long while, so lots of leaves and branches the trees are ready to let go of, especially with the drought on top of everything else.  And it's quite warm, which is also unusual for a windstorm here.

We've had a few power surges, nothing major.  I want to go to the store (and I need to go pay for the food I got yesterday, the machines were malfunctioning, so they said to come back and pay), but every time I think to go, I hear something crack outside.  

I did some writing, but still waiting to hit some vein of inspiration.  Still just slogging through it.  I need to have something soon, today if possible.  I've asked some of my former classmates if they would meet with me to listen and offer feedback, and some said, "yes," so I need to have something to present.  (Gave myself a real deadline.)

I hate asking for things, I tend to avoid it.  Have had to ask major favors lately (still have a huge one that I haven't asked yet).  It's good practice for me to do it, we all need something at some point, it's just easier to give than to receive, or to admit I need anything.

Peace.

Wednesday, August 26, 2015

Lucky

I have a lot of generous people in my life.  My heart is bursting.

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Just, write

The remedy for writer's block is to write, and the block to writing is perfectionism.  That which rears it's ugly head once (well, most of the time) again.  The idea that whatever I present has to be flawless because there is an audience and they have paid money to be there...or even just because there is actually an audience.  But it's also a process, a place to try out material and see what sticks.  And if I don't start writing I won't get there at all, which is all well and good to say, but it's just talk until I put it down on paper.  Sigh.  Have now gone completely sideways with this.  An idea I jotted down years ago, before I even had email.  (If it stays in the same vein, that'll make sense.)

I see there's a workshop in self-producing this fall, maybe I can get this written in time to apply for that, though I'm giving myself a deadline of tomorrow.  I need to have other eyes and ears on it, someone outside of my own head.  And I need something written, even a very rough draft, before I ask people to give feedback.

Went for a walk the other night, around the lake, hoping to see part of the sunset. Somehow missed that, and it was getting dark.  Walked as far as the shell house.  During daylight, each light is surrounded by what looks like old cobwebs.  When the lights switch on at dusk, you can see these are great colonies of spiders.  Lots and lots of spiders, of every size.  Running up and down the highways of silk, up and down the walls and roll-up doors.  A whole other city that hides during the day, and takes over at night.  Thousands of spiders.  Another woman stopped to look and commented that they were smart, building the webs around the lights in such a way to funnel insects into them.  A clever hunting strategy.  It's fascinating to see, and yet I still involuntarily shuddered when I got too close, overcome with the heebie-jeebies at the thought of accidentally walking into part of the web that I couldn't see, and having it stick to me, being covered suddenly in spiders.  It still makes me shudder.

Sunday, August 23, 2015

Sunday morning

Sat outside on the steps, the coolness of the morning lingering, listening to the sound of church bells calling someone to worship.  Sometimes a voice calls out from up the street, sometimes a car goes by, once a crow cawed, but otherwise, quiet.  The air has been hazy since yesterday morning, the winds shifting this way, carrying the smoke from all of the fires burning.  All the childhood places, burning.  Burning out of control.

Got up early-ish to finally roast the tomatoes (I picked half of them before we had the rain storm), threw those in the oven, and started going through the produce drawers.  Found some onions that needed salvaging, peeled off the outer layer, and sliced the sweet one thinly and tossed onto the pan with the tomatoes, then a few cloves of garlic and salt for good measure.  In the end it didn't amount to much, and since it was paste-like, I ended up adding it all to the soup instead of freezing it.  I peeled the skin off after roasting, all my tomatoes have very thick skin this year, not sure if it's the weather or the variety.

This is the soup, so I can find it again (and I never really measure anything.)

Two ears of corn, kernels cut off and reserved, cobs broken in half and tossed in a pot with enough water to cover by maybe a half inch.  Bay leaf and a few slices of dried mushroom I had sitting around; poured the tomato liquid from the roasting pan into it as well.  Covered and let simmer.  Chopped what remained of the small, red onion fine, chopped half of a padrón pepper fine, small celery rib (fine), and a clove of garlic.  Browned the onion and garlic in about a Tbsp of butter and a little olive oil, added the remainder of vegetables once the onion had softened.  Salvaged a zucchini (by salvage I mean other things had started to melt in the produce bags) by rinsing and then peeling for good measure.  Chopped about the same size as the corn kernels, threw that in the pan.  Added a pinch of saffron, salt, pepper, and a bit of pimentón  When it had cooked for about 10 minutes, decided I might as well add the tomato, onions, garlic from the oven.  Stirred and let it dry out a little.  Removed the bay leaf, cobs, and mushroom bits from the broth, added the vegetables.  Simmered to reduce it some.  Tasted pretty good at that point.  Added probably 1/4 lb of the salmon (the thick, west coast type of smoked salmon) and probably 2 Tbsp of fresh dill.  Let simmer.  Added cream at the last minute because I had some I needed to use.  Turned out pretty good.

If I were to make it again, I'd add something like fennel (fronds, bulb, seeds, pernod?) to it, and omit the cream.  But it's fine.  Now only another 1/2 lb to use up.  When I went to the library to pick up a hold yesterday, there was this tome of a French cookbook on the counter, so I checked that out as well, and lugged it home.  The recipes seemed doable, not overly complicated.  Might make rillettes with some of the salmon (like a fancier version of tuna salad, omitting the mayo.)  I was told I might have two weeks before it went bad, but I'd like to use it up sooner, generally don't do well with old food.

Still need to write, but at least I did something with my morning, can not say that much lately.  Need to go meet someone from the buy-nothing group to loan her a Spanish phrase book for her Camino.

And write.

Saturday, August 22, 2015

and feeling like I'm losing my mind

Really need to get a handle on: health, finances, getting rid of stuff, and writing this thing (at least sending in a draft.)  All of these are keeping me up at night.  Also, I probably need to take a week off or so: I need a vacation, I'm not really functioning at this point.

Thursday.  The drone of leaf blowers, street cleaners, and lawnmowers provide the morning soundtrack. At work it's been so quiet and at a constant temperature, that I'm always somewhat taken by surprise when I walk outside and it's hot and noisy.  It's like coming out of a cocoon. Woke up late, after 7 am when I looked at the clock, jumped and stumbled, not quite fully awake.  Another round of explosive fireworks last night, after 11 pm, not as many or as random as the previous night, but enough to make my heart jump as I was falling asleep.  And a beetle had gotten in and was whizzing past my face, smacking into things, and then occasionally landing on me, causing me to yelp because I hadn't figured out what it was yet.  The smells through the open window more of gasoline than grass, but the coolness is welcome as is the an unexpected mist, reminding me of the days before we had to go back to school when I was a kid: the heat of the summer, succumbing to drizzle and gray on the last days, until the sun returned when we had to be back in class.  Cool mornings, hot, buzzy afternoons.  Dread and excitement rolled into one, wondering what the year would bring, would you fit in anywhere?  From all of this, and from not eating enough, I've been really tired.

Dreamt about a drone spraying pesticides everywhere.  Dreamt about spiders and webs everywhere, and trying to get past them.

Other than that, been a week of random gifts.  Last Saturday, while walking around the lake, I passed through some sorta' fair and got a free peach, threw my name in for a drawing, then went on my way and forgot about it.  On Monday, I received notice that I had won a gift basket.  Very random assortment of items: pound of Middle Fork Coffee, two Theo chocolate bars, a bottle of hot sauce, a bag of pumpkin seeds, two bags of snack mix, an energy bar, a jar of peanut butter, spice mix for vegetables, and a citronella candle.  It came in something called a "blessing basket," probably my favorite part of it.  Then on Wednesday, I went to this volunteer party for the Ballard Seafood Fest (which I served beer at) and the final invite said something about a "gift."  I was going for the food, and figured the gift would be a t-shirt or something.  Nope: gift was a full, smoked salmon.  Remarkably generous.  Need to figure out what to do with it, need to use it soon as it had thawed out by the time I got home.  Bagged it up, and gave some to my roommate.  (I would've anyway, but she gave me a washcloth because mine has disappeared.  Not sure why.)  Will make corn/salmon chowder from at least some, but there's plenty left after that.

Then today, I went to this free workshop on not wasting food (so preserving, but also how to use things you might have an abundance off, as well as things like carrot tops, radish tops, chard stems, etc.)  The main presenter made a berry pie, and then we made "meat" balls out of greens (which were really good), pickled apples, pickled hot peppers, and talked about other preservation methods.  When we filled out the evals at the end, we each also got the choice of a book (I took one on drying food, since that's what I'm most likely to do.  Canning still makes me nervous, so I'd want to take a class, and the other book was recipes for freezing.  I've only ever made refrigerator pickles before, they were good.  I'm a fairly adventurous eater, and cooker, but preserving makes me nervous because if you do it wrong, you can get really sick.)  We also got a food-related item: canning jars, canning tools, a mandoline, or molds for freezing things.  I took the jars, I've been needing some.  Had earlier been given a mandoline as a door prize, I've been wanting one for some reason, though I can't remember why at the moment.

All of my tomatoes seem to have ripened at once; someone recommended roasting them in the oven until slightly charred, then cooling, and freezing them.  Good idea.  Someone else said that she roasted them in the oven for 6 hours with a sweet onion and hot peppers (at 200 F), then blended it into a sauce.  Might try that as well.

And then a sweet moment of my week was yesterday, I was going out back to put something in the compost, and I must have made a yelping sound when I encountered a spiderweb/spider across the walkway.  A different housemate was out smoking and asked why.  I told him it was a spider, and went to find a stick or something to move the web out of the way.  He walked over and moved it for me.  I didn't need him to do it, but it was a really nice gesture.

Oh, and an even kinder offering was my friend that took the time to shoot head shots for me last Saturday because I had an audition I wanted to do.  I liked the way a lot of them turned out.

Tuesday, August 18, 2015

Feeling liberated

Well, count that one as a win for nerves.  Monologue barely in my head when I walked into the audition, and I was so shaky.  Had to restart.  Also, situation not particularly helped by the fact that I decided to go with a new monologue this morning.  Been working on it all day, but not really enough time to do it justice.  Still have been having a hard time finding material in my age range (monologue-wise, been finding plays/scenes, but the women characters in them don't have any long bits of text, so you have to piece them together.)  The one I've worked on the most, also pieced together from dialogue, is from the play I just auditioned for, so didn't want to use it; it could go either way, I suppose, but prefer not to risk it.  At any rate, I can work on it more and use it in the future.  I do like it.  (Well, both of them.)

Took the day off to get ready, get the head shot printed, the resume updated (which of course, after I'd already gotten back home, I realized the formatting had moved, which looked bad.  But didn't have time to fix it.)  Currently feel rather free (the stress of the audition being over), but have to get back to the writing now.  Don't know if it's too late to turn it in, but good practice, nonetheless.  Wish I'd taken off the rest of the week, it's slow at work, and I need to use up vacation time, plus it's a really nice time of year to be on vacation.

I should eat.

Sunday, August 16, 2015

Sunday, maybe onto something

Waiting to hear back from someone regarding a "buy nothing" group offering.  Finally got around to posting some items yesterday.  No one took me up on the books, but the other two items were claimed.  Came across more leaky batteries in a box...I really need to keep up on these things.  Guess I'll bag the box and contents and get rid of them.

Itching to get to the park, to be outside.  It's my perfect (late summer) day.  Bright sunny, some clouds (not many), slight breeze, temperature somewhere in the 70's, so a break from all the 90's.  People relaxed.  The smell of cut grass (from the one yard that still has some.)

After talking to my housemate regarding the thing I'm trying to write, went ahead and went all out in a diatribe, she commented I might as well go there and then I can edit it later (or at least get it out of my system.)  Tried to figure out who exactly it is I think I'm writing for that I need to censor myself.  Why so much self-censorship?  I don't want to use a diatribe, but why am I not letting myself say it, even under the conditions where no one else will see it?  Timidity.  And Fear.  Anyway, by the time I got around to writing, it'd lost steam.  With the second free-write I hit upon a useful line of thought.  I might run with that on a third, or go with something else; I have it, so I can always come back to it.  Taking a short break...came home to check email, and to work on the monologue.  Fingers crossed that I will have a head shot in time, a friend shot some of me yesterday, but I haven't seen them yet.  Trying to make myself ask for things.  Trying to risk "no."

Had a surprising change of heart about someone yesterday.  Out of the blue.  We'd had a falling out several years ago.  Saw that person today, probably could've talked to them if I'd had the guts...certainly wanted to, but the intimidation factor is the stronger of the two at the moment.  I think they are open, I was the one pushing back.  (I'd felt like I'd been thrown under the bus on a project we worked on, and I was kinda' done with it.  Wasn't sure I could trust them anymore.  The change of heart in part, is that I decided I will try.)

Back to the work.

Friday, August 14, 2015

Finally, real rain falls

Sometime around 4 am, the rain began to hit the roof, sounding like walking in the attic, the boards groaning under the pressure.  I got up to look out the window, and to close it; two people shouted and ran, one following the other, down the street.  No idea where they came from.  Didn't occur to me until much later that it was a little odd for 4 am.  A little bit of thunder, a little bit of lightning, and two quick bands of rain.  Again, by the time I left my house, the pavement was mostly dry.  Bands of rain running up either side of the Puget Sound Basin, but as of noon, none falling here, at least not enough to make a difference.

A little later, the sky darkens as the two bands converge, and thunder rolls in the distance.  The leaves outside my window begin to flick, one at a time, under the weight of large drops, like some sorta' sped up animation (or time-lapse sequence.) Lightning flashes through the window followed shortly by a long (but not loud) peal of thunder.  By 1:30, it's a deluge.  Finally enough to soak the ground, feels like it's been months since we've had that.  Between 1 1/2" - 2" by the time I got home.  We certainly needed it, but it was somewhat dramatic.  I think it's still raining.

I think I've placed myself in too tight of a box as to the specifics of what my idea was.  What I presented to the producer.  Gotta find myself an out; I've written a lot over the past week, not much of it useful.  Thankfully, I managed to find my syllabus from the Solo Performance class, I'm gonna work my way through the exercises and see what that generates.  I have to stay with the gist of the source material, but hopefully can get myself out of this block.  I'm giving myself a draft deadline of Sunday...plus I have an audition I need to prepare for.

Someone is cooking something that smells good.  I should make dinner.  We had a garden party scheduled for this evening, but I'm guessing it got cancelled.  Just as well, I don't need more distractions.

Wednesday, August 12, 2015

Always the hope

Well, that wasn't in the forecast.  Flashing lights and rumbling high in the sky, a lot of show, but when I walk out after it has passed, my shoes don't even get wet from the grass.  So, hit and miss, mostly miss here, on the rain.  (And this was a red blob on the radar...moved through very quickly.)  Yesterday went rather late in the evening to water and weed.  The garden grew dark quickly and I got pretty sketched out and almost ran out without putting the hose back.  Will need to go back and pick up the weeds (and the tomatoes are ripe.)

Just saw a notice for the show.  Really need to write this thing.  I have a beginning and an end, am trying not to be all melodramatic or cliche in the middle.  Having a hard time with it, because I'm not writing it from any personal experience, though perhaps I should.

Oh, the irony!

I'll eat my words regarding "Thelma & Louise," at least in part.  I found my beginning, and my voice for the thing I'm trying to write.

...and winding my way down many an unproductive road.  I should probably get some space to work for a couple of hours, soon.  It helps.

Monday, August 10, 2015

Ugh

All I can say is, "Writer's block."  Or at least the sense that I have nothing to say, or that I already said it all in the piece I wrote, and that's all I've got.  I don't know what to say.  I've got a month to come up with it, and have it memorized and blocked.  Sigh.  I can do this...I think.  Hmm.  I put myself in this position because I wanted to.  And I do.

Sunday, August 9, 2015

Not sure what I want to say

Oh god, it's almost 9 pm; I write to take a break from writing...deadlines and such.  A walk out the door, a whole new universe awakens.  Holes in the sky.  Impromptu band playing Holst by the lakeside.  Sharing a poem (my point of departure) with a stranger in a coffee shop leads to the idea of an intuitive choice to be good when present, so often drowned out by the static we find ourselves swimming in.  A million justifications for wrong action.  Truth in unexpected places.  Grateful for the depth of it all.  I still don't have ten minutes.  Untangling fishing wire, like thoughts, from of a tree, then touching my hand ever so lightly on a branch large enough to bear my weight, feeling the seemingly solid mass move in the breeze, like dancing, like breath.  The sun drops down, the golden hour.  Now in my room listening to the whole of "The Planets."  The air cooled quickly from the heat of the day.  Clouds formed like fairy wings out of nothingness, suddenly filling the sky where none were before.  I wish it would rain.

Birches, August 9/L Herlevi 2015

For dramatic effect, August 9/L Herlevi 2015

Friday, August 7, 2015

Pictures

Still trying to come up with ideas, stuck in a place of doubt, which keeps me from writing daily...which of course would help.  Met some friends at the Sculpture Park last night after work.  Previous night went to see this improv/music/spoken word even with the "Pianos in the Park."  People were encouraged to take the mic, musicians played under and with, poems turned into songs pretty much on the spot.  A few drops of rain finally began to fall after holding off all day (and the weather reports made it look like the chance was over by then.)  Then a few minutes later, deluge, and since I had a camera and wasn't wearing a waterproof jacket, I made my way home.  Drenched and shivering, but not complaining: we need the rain; the trail mostly deserted, people sheltering under the trees.  Only lasted 10-15 minutes (and apparently, did not make it as far as my garden, very dry when I eventually made it over to water.)  First picture is the sky after the rain stopped.  Next three are from the Sculpture Park.

After the Rain, August 5/L Herlevi 2015

Boats, August 6/L Herlevi 2015

Outward, August 6/L Herlevi 2015

"Echo", August 6/L Herlevi 2015

Sunday, August 2, 2015

Sunday

Emptied out the contents of my closet (the clothing part, anyway) onto my bed an hour before I had to leave the house.  The clothes I was definitely keeping were (rather neatly) hung back in the closet; the pile I was parting with were dropped off in a bin on my way to the bus stop; and I came home to the uncommitted still strewn across my bed...they are back in the closet for the time being, I would like to get some sleep.

Went and saw "Emboldened" again this afternoon, I was working front-of-house.  Stayed for a workshop after, wasn't sure what to expect, but there was food.  It ended up being writing, and acting exercises built around themes we threw out that we picked out from the play.  At one point we wrote about what music was inside us (writing prompts related to that), and most people wrote about music when they know they are on their right path, I wrote about the crashing cymbals, and by the end, came to the conclusion that when I hear those, it's because I'm not being true to myself; so, kinda' the opposite of many people, but useful to know.

As far as the show itself goes, it was good last week, but they killed it tonight.  If not my favorite show, it's certainly one of the top of the year so far, and giving "Live from the Last Night of My Life" a run for the money.  So good.  Plays one more show tomorrow night at Theatre Off Jackson.

Saw an overwhelming amount of art on Friday night ("Out of Sight" at King Street Station, an Artist Trust exhibit of the people who had won grants (I think), and while making my way to a bus stop, feet aching for some reason, I saw a sign for another show, so went and checked that out as well.)  Saturday, I mostly did nothing.

Inspired to think outside of the box, the whole joy of experiencing art for me.  There is more possibility than we imagine.