Tennessee Williams

Okay, so despite my trepidation, I went to the Tennessee Williams One Act Plays tonight at the UW (Professional Actors Training Program), it was one of two times I could go and there was a reception tonight. It was excellent. I wasn't moved emotionally, but I'm not sure that's the point. The acting was great. (I liked the show.)  It plays thru next Sunday http://www.meany.org/tickets/?prod=5851. There are only 6 students in that year, highly competitive program, I had hopes of applying in the future, I didn't realize how small the cohorts were. I might apply anyway, would be a learning experience (not yet, of course.) Think I'll read a book now.

Another cold

Seem to be catching a second cold on top of the lingering remnant of the one from last weekend. Curious. Not to be outdone by my immune system, I suppose. (It's the end of the quarter thing.)

Oh, bummer. I can't take the Shakespeare class, it's been withdrawn.

Finally faced up to all of my medical bills and put them all on payment plans. One less stressor hanging over my head.

And you know, you'd think the person selling you tickets would verify with you what you bought and that if you accidently bought the same ticket 2x, they'd ask if you meant to do that...in an ideal world, but not the one I've been living in. Sigh. Maybe he's underpaid. Or it's fate. Been a week like that.

Got an hour to kill, guess I'll go study.

The crows have started early

I should get up and see what they are up to. All the sensory tours went well but we only got to two scenes, ours and one more, so we won't do ours next week, which means we really need to work on our own and get this down. His needs/wants are pretty strong, mine change from moment to moment, and it was a big chunk of material last night and it went too fast for me to latch on to any of them. Scene partner said he'd work that with me this week, we can probably do that without rehearsal space, I'm feeling unanchored on stage. Do I want to believe there are other options besides abandonment, abuse and contempt? I think I do, but am I convinced that something better will never be in my cards because it never has been? He's trying to convince me that there are more options. He's definitely more the optimist.  I'm afraid to hope, afraid of change, I think. Afraid of his intensity.  Intensity=abuse in my past.

Video is done shooting. We need to figure out how to edit, how we want it sequenced and do voice-overs (which I'll need to write, but can't yet, because I don't know what we're using from Monday's shoot yet.) I read somewhere that people who are doing what they love always seem to have so much energy and get a lot done, and while that may be true, there is a point where even they have taken on too much to give their best to what they are doing, and I'm definitely beyond that point this quarter. Still have a quiz today, so I guess I'll leave now and try to get some studying in before class (three hours from now.) And gonna go see what Spot and company are up to (I suspect they may have gotten into the garbage, someone left the lid off.) Only 15 hours of social media break this time.

Nope, no garbage digging, they must've just been making a ruckus for the fun of it.

(And so, can I do the Shakespeare class without spreading myself too thin? It's only four weeks, but do I need a break? I feel like life goes by so fast and opportunities arrive and slip past and sometimes you don't get a second chance. But is this one I need? And Shakespeare runs into the intense clown class running into the performance class and then it's early September. By then I'll know if I'm doing Meisner or not. Besides applying, and being accepted, it would also require a scholarship for me to do it.)

Survived the last quiz. Video project and final to get through, then just the theatre class. Glad I got dropped from working on the conference, just wouldn't have been able to put enough effort into it.

17 hours

Well, made it 17 hours. One of the omelets for the sensory tour turned out, but I don't normally buy ham, and the ham I bought (for a western) is way too sweet, maybe salvageable with tabasco? Next time, only two eggs in the pan at a time, they are actually edible, just a lot of browning. I almost thought about ordering some and picking them up, but since we are also doing the video shoot today and since there are no restaurants near where I am, I just don't have the time. I hope it's good enough. (I suspect there are a few vegetarians in the class. And I considered making some vegetarian, but it wouldn't have been authentic to the world of the play.) Spot and company were going nuts outside the kitchen window the whole time I was cooking. Very loud cawing. Very early. I eventually fed them part of the overcooked omelet. That seemed to please them.

Things won't be any different today. Still need to cut back on how much I'm on these things. Wean myself away, give my heart a break. (What can I say? Emotions ARE irrational, even if I do sound like Mr. Spock.) Actually get some work done. Acts of kindness to myself. (Someone told me they were holding me in their thoughts over the cold, and it seems to mostly be over, which is nice. I had a cough for almost four months after the cold I had at Christmas. That ongoing throat pain seems to feel better today as well. I've kinda' learned to live with it, since I have to pay the old doctor bills before I acquire any new ones.  I haven't sung in a while, but would like to again.)

There were things that were supposed to be covered in previous acting classes, but weren't...so I feel a little behind on the learning curve, however, other parts are making a lot more sense to me, such as how to go about learning lines (which seems obvious now, but I'd never heard to learn them without any emotions attached.) I had heard that every response you make is a response to what your partner gives you, but that is beginning to be more than just words to me. I haven't even started on how she moves, which is part of who she is, but I'm still putting together her past, and there are still blanks, blanks that need to get filled (why'd she drop out of high school? who told her she didn't have what it takes to be an actress? why'd her mother leave? why were they poor?-she grew up during an economic boom.) Am still somewhat unclear on what exactly she wants, I feel she wants to get to know him better, but he keeps rushing the relationship ("I want to marry you") and she's trying to keep away from that conversation...I think wants/needs are supposed to be in the positive, so need to reframe it. Will also attempt to go see Tennessee Williams One Acts soon.

I check these things too much

Attempting to stay off all social media between now (well 5, on the email) and tomorrow morning. See if I can actually accomplish other things.

Traffic

Stuck in traffic. 10 minute bus commute took about an hour. Most of that inching about 20 blocks. Got off and walked. Really late for work. Had a 5-year recognition gift on my desk when I finally arrived, but no one says anything. It'll be a huge relief when I get to the other side of next Thursday, I'm so stressed out about all these projects and tests that I'm not thinking straight anymore. Now have a quiz on Friday as well, Ha! I know nothing anymore! Brain is blank. I spent 45 minutes going over my lines this morning, I think I kept falling asleep, I never did make it all the way through. So far the cold's been pretty mellow, but I seem to be losing my voice which is both amusing and unfortunate (timing-wise.)

Here's Chris Bell singing I am the cosmos http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kR594Kkxmzg, my first encounter with this song was on a cover single of I am the cosmos/Feel that the Posies did in the early 90's in between release of their own albums, Dear 23 and Frosting on the Beater. Chris died six months after this was released in 1978. (He was also in Big Star, the other main writer, a bit overshadowed by Alex Chilton.)

Traffic keeps making me think of this song: Aztec Camera, Spanish Horses http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4AtkJGx-M4c  a recent live version, stripped down to just Roddy and his guitar.

Logistics

Trying to find rehearsal space and filming space, and none seem to be available when we or the equipment are available. I seem to be carrying the brunt of all this (scheduling and expense.) Yea! Getting help now. And we can get a library room tonight, which, if hard to rehearse in, is at least, free. And the room on Thursday gives us more time to memorize script before filming, so that works out. We have to present the videos on next Wednesday and the final for that class is Thursday. So quickly has time passed. The other has four more weeks until performance. For this week we are supposed to do the sensory world of the play, and a restaurant would be good, but we haven't given enough thought to it before today, where it is, what the neighborhood is like, who goes there, noise levels, etc., I'm not sure we can pull it off by Thursday when we both work days and up until class starts. I kinda' feel like we might be copping out either way (restaurant or Frankie's apartment-their lives are in the restaurant, the play is in the apartment-so, experience of their lives or experience of the night of the encounter?) There's only so much I can carry on a crowded bus, and I have to also bring props for the video on the same day (because it's food, and I don't want it to spoil.) Whatever we do, everyone's getting blindfolded.

I know true things, but I don't want to believe them so I keep myself from remembering them, tell myself that I'm wrong. It's obvious, I'm not. Still, against all odds, I'm rooting for my "right mind" to be wrong for once.

Rainy

Rainy, rainy, rainy holiday.  Went and shot some outdoor stuff for the project. Hopefully, some of it is useful, we didn't always know what we were doing. Came home, took a nap, and woke up completely disoriented as to what day it was and if I was supposed to be somewhere. I do have a movie ticket for 8 pm, but I think I'll skip it, I have homework for both classes and it's two hours on top of the movie time with the bus commute. And I'll spare all the other movie goers my coughing and nose-blowing displays:) I'm also having a momentary aversion to going outside, or actually doing anything at all.  This is a picture of the sidewalk from earlier today. I will go now.

Memorial Day/L. Herlevi

 

 



Memorial Day

With gratitude to those who when asked, served their country, and died.

Home again, late

Was gonna write about how many amazing musicians are at Folklife, or about the man that bowed low on the street before asking what building had previously stood on the corner and when I said I didn't know he spoke of us all falling through time and then apologized for the poetic speech saying he was a little drunk. But then I went and watched the Big Star documentary and it kinda' wiped me out. http://www.bigstarstory.com/.  It's pretty heartbreaking. (And my throat is still in the road-rash phase of the cold.)

Here's a solo version of Thirteen, from you tube, it's from 1974, from a radio interview WLIR. It's just Alex Chilton. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UUV6XjNWRjo ealier in the interview he makes a comment about it being anachronistic, he's about 24 years old when he's singing this here, though I believe he wrote it when he was younger.

Sunday, holiday weekend

Now I have a cold. That started midday yesterday. I thought the season was over.

Yesterday felt like the world was standing there for me, waiting, with open arms.

Saturday-No Plans

On a day without plans, one can never tell where you will go. Went to the march, met a friend, ended up at Folklife http://www.nwfolklife.org/festival/, then tried to find somewhere to buy tickets to SIFF http://www.siff.net/. I sat on the curb outside the theatre thumbing through the guide trying to figure out if there was anything I wanted to see during any of my free time and while sitting there someone walked up to me and asked if I wanted a free ticket so I said yes. It was to a documentary called Harana which I think translates to Serenade, about a dying courtship ritual in the Philipines where a man would court a woman by showing up outside her window with his friends and play/sing love songs until her parents let them inside the house. It was enlightening, charming and beautiful. It was one of the producers that gave me the ticket, I thanked her again after the screening and she said I looked like I needed to see a movie. So I did get a free ticket afterall.

Is that my next destination? I don't know...my grandfather, whom I know almost nothing about except that he was born in the late 1800's, was a musician and served in the US military, was from the Philipines. Over the past year, I've been having these interesing Filipino encounters, first an oral historian, then six months later I randomly ate dinner with her sister at a Greek festival, and now this. Travel works for me that way: encounters build up until I go. It's just a seed that's been planted now.

Then I went back to Folklife, went and got coffee because it was cold, and wandered back through stopping to listen to what turned out to be my two favorite acts of the day: the Sweet Lowdown from Victoria, BC and Science from Seattle. Sweet Lowdown was two woman, banjo and guitar, Science was two men, both guitarists, who did a rockin' version of Eleanor Rigby. It began to rain, the air filled with the ozony raindrops-on-pavement smell. Started to leave again, but stopped to watched a juggling act and then stayed for part of a string-band's set. It was dark then, raining harder, wind picking up, half the audience dancing.  At the bus stop, a man asked me to waltz, I said I was uncoordinated (I am the woman who smacked her face into a doorjamb recently) so he handed me a button off of his jacket, and I jumped on the bus. Getting off the bus, someone made eye-contact and gave me the solidarity sign. I kinda' feel like I had been hibernating, (the cold, the lack of light?) and recently woke up and began ferociously gorging myself on life. When I looked at myself in the mirror when I got home, I was looking pretty scrappy.

Friday

The noise of the traffic is increasing. Still have headache but have to get up and go to class and work: we will shoot the video today. Hope we get the finalized scripts back beforehand. At least we have three hours in the room.  I should be more kind. I've been allowing my stress levels to let me be more vicious than I would normally be.

"You don't need to defend your choices, but if you feel compelled to do so, be careful not to devalue the choices of others in the process."  Just saw this somewhere. Ouch. I apologize for my previous viciousness, there is no good excuse for it.

Need to find a jelly donut for the video, seem to be in short supply. Might have to go with a chili dog.  It'll be such a relief when this project is finished.

Later. Well, we know what we don't know, which is a good start.  And we know how to work the camera. Definitely need the wireless mics for the other two, apparently, I talk loud now, must be all the acting classes. Will re-shoot on Tuesday or Wednesday. At least I don't have to eat the hot dog and donut again, combination a bit...nasty. That shot was good enough...still feeling a bit of the food poisoning:)  I'm gonna see if I can fit any film festival films in this weekend. I was holding out for a free ticket (they're out there. I've always managed to find one or a few in past years, Starbuck's used to give out vouchers, but they didn't this year, and I've randomly been emailed them as well) but I think I'll have to just fork out the dough for them, then I can see what I want, too.  Hyvää viikonloppua!

Daily reminders to let go.  Daily reminders that I have not.

Sick

Feeling like I mostly just want to stay in a fetal position today.  Woke up really sick. Thought maybe I was dehydrated, but now I don't know. My head is killing me and I can't even keep water down.  Slowly working through black tea and honey.  Feel awful. Have to leave for class at 5 ish. That's 5 hours away. Maybe I can split an anti-inflammatory in half, I only have the 800 milligram ones, which is too much. (They were for my hand inflammation.) At least it's not hot out and I'm not travelling, that would be worse.

Crawled out of bed at 4:30, chewed half of a motrin, ate a bit of cereal and caught a bus to class. I didn't even do a scene today since my scene partner is out of town. Got home at 11pm. I wish I had that much dedication to my other class, but I don't. Walking south toward the bus stop I could see the moon between the buildings ahead of me, 2nd ave, fairly west.  When I got off of the bus, much further north and east, the moon was to the east of me.  Threw me off, I'll have to look at a map, and see how the streets curve. Odd.

just call me cranky pants

Been so edgy. Then I get to rehearsal and two hours of clearing of my mind, which was a relief. The rehearsal went great for as early on as it is. Our instructor came in and it was fantastic having her there.  Since we had added text before and after, I had forgotten to remember what comes right before (how we got to where we are). And she pointed out the battle of wills where we are trying to convince each other of opposite things...anyway, it went in a completely different direction emotionally.  I started to cry (which totally raises the stakes for making my partner go for what he wants in spite of that) which actually caught me by surprise, and it was cool. I've had a hard time being on stage with genuine emotions, that was a first for me. (This is huge for me. I was afraid I couldn't get there.) I don't even know where that came from, only it makes sense as I'm talking about witnessing abuse and that I was abused (but he doesn't know that yet.) I am still thrilled to be working with her.  (I like my scene partner, too. We can disagree and bicker and still get along in the end.)  And yes, this is a comedy.

Disturbed

So, I've been reading reviews of the performance I went to. It's good to have context: the main person had himself shot earlier in the morning of the performance I saw (and I think, "what if the shooter had missed?!?" He was shot in the left shoulder.) and another performer had been buried for five hours (for multiple performances) which is certainly dedicated (and I'm not doubting he's a great actor, but even if he weren't how could you not be emotionally powerful after being buried for five hours?) but that's also really crazy. (Though I suppose illusionists have been doing similar stunts.) So, there is more context, but I'm neither a lover nor a hater of the performance, even though I will say that it still pisses me off, though not as much as Monday. It's taking method acting to the exteme. It's like having people pay to watch you get really close to killing yourself. The shooting was a reenactment (so not original and if we are honest, it's crazy) and all the performers had to abuse themselves in some way prior to the performance.  Someone used the word cultish, yeah that's very cultish. Where do ritual and torture meet?

This was performance art, avant garde, godless and offensive. There was the spitting of wine onto the "creatures" early on.  Most reviews thought this was a form of humiliation (which it might have been) but I took the spitting to be trying to be shamanic, which no one mentions, so maybe I'm wrong.  I was at the same performance as the reviewer who cried her eyes out at the final show.  I did not cry.(And I was kinda' eagerly waiting for he final act because people had been building it up so much. It didn't do anything for me, I don't know if it would've been different had I known about the buried alive thing, but I was kinda' disappointed. It didn't touch any emotional chord in me, I suppose it got buried for me in all the excess. In the end, it was overkill.) But then again, she witnessed him being shot earlier. Seriously, who does that? Way, way, way too extreme.  This is a really dangerous (though, I suppose nothing new) direction for performance to be pushing, creating a sense of one-up-manship.  (It's mentally unhealthy, I'm not buying the 911 catharis line. There are other ways to find that.)

I am going back and forth on keeping this published.

It's not a sin to be happy. It's not a weakness to believe in love. Illusion is a bandaid, a momentary fix, someday you will have to deal with all the stuff underneath.

Wednesday

Weather changed to cold and wet, like we went back to late autumn, skipping over the warm parts of the year, except for all the leaves and flowers. This should be good for trying to not get distracted, though lately, I am always distracted. Really need to buckle down. The last half of our script hasn't been written, and I had other studying to do last night for rehearsal tonight, so I haven't written it either. It doesn't need to be a lot, but we are filming on Friday, and it needs to be approved first, so. Will try to come up with something. Attempted to watch Prizzi's Honor last night (script reference) but I kept falling asleep, I think I got 3 hours sleep the night before. Need to get up and cook now, I have to leave the house within an hour.

Someone made the comment to me about "first-world whining, " last night. Made me think about perspective vs. guilt vs. letting yourself feel, want, have, be something. How many messages are out there that you can't do this, want that, be that, have that because other people are suffering, are unhappy, think you're stupid, it's immature, not cool enough, not normal enough, too nerdy, not good enough, not young enough, not old enough, etc..I'm not talking about criminal things, just basic things, like what you do with your life, pursue, like, love, etc. It's paralysing. It's a cage, and the voices, internalized. I'm just starting to break that, to stop listening, to want anything at all without listening to all the judgement. Wasted so many years unable to move or want, being told with every concern I had that they were not legitimate because someone else, somewhere else, was suffering, so how dare I have anything to complain about. (Does my life not matter? If so, why am I here? Both inside and outside my head it was, "can't can't can't can't can't.") It's no wonder so many people have a mid-life crisis, realizing they made choices based on other people's voices and never considered what they wanted or that they could want anything at all. (And perhaps all this is first-world whining as well.  Or is it common to humanity to want to matter, make a difference, love, feel alive?) And did my immune system begin to attack me because my inner turmoil had no outlet?

After class.  I can see my breath hanging in the air. My brain is empty of things I have learned recently. I need it to not be.

Song for dystopia

In all fairness, here's a song for dystopia: The Police, Synchronicity II

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s4l00qhq0To

I actually really like this song. They were the first live concert I ever went to, 1983, the Tacoma Dome. (This entire album is pretty dystopian.)

Thank you

Once again, in the face of suffering and loss, thank you to all the first responders, to the neighbors, friends, strangers, who step up to help. Thank you to all the volunteers from near and far that are willing to leave everything behind at a moments notice to go and help. To those that raise money, who put on or go to benefits, who raise awareness, who feed people, who donate blood, who listen, who comfort, who send love or prayers, who clean up the rumble, thank you. In all places of suffering, and despair and pain, thank you to those who bring hope and light and love and redemption.  There is suffering and pain in life, but there is also beauty and love and hope and friendship and things that make our time here more than just something to bear. So, thank you to everyone who does any of those things for restoring my faith in humanity (again).  Our better angels rise above the mud and filth of existence.

Figured out what bothered me

So, while battling it out with a black-raspberry bush I was trying to extract earlier tonight, I figured out why the performance bothered me so much. The middle section reminded me of Less Than Zero, which I've written about somewhere else, and which I've changed my mind about: I now wish I hadn't seen it. Anyway, toward the end, the Robert Downey, Jr. character is trying really hard to quit, but he owes his dealer a lot of money, so these guys are following him around trying to make him prostitute himself to pay off the debt and also pretty much forcing the drugs on him. It's a very creepy predator/prey relationship.  And the middle section of the performance reminded me of that. There was assault, but also the pushing of drugs on one another, sometimes seemingly against the pushed on's will. And that really creeps me out: I almost feel like the pushing of the drugs was a worse assault than the physical. Also, when the assault(s) happen, the other characters egg it on.  (It's a dim view of the worst of humanity.) And again I've written before that it reminds me of people I used to know, and when they suddenly started doing hard drugs. I feel a huge sense of loss and general icky-ness (for lack of a better term) with that.

Have to listen to something hopeful-Jason Mraz to counteract the nihilism
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aMaIBLusSAc

(When I listen to this song, I feel inexplicably super happy.)

Shakespeare

On a non-ranting note:), spoke to someone about taking his non-acting Shakespeare class this summer.  I'll have to see if I can swing it with work, use vacation time. I want to take a Shakespeare acting class next year, but this would be good for language and context beforehand. Plus I'm trying to study with as many different instructors as possible.

"Summer 2013 Four weeks, four genres: the histories, tragedies, comedies, and romances of William Shakespeare, their context, their quarrels, their legacies.The course is designed to expose readers of Shakespeare to the traditions of staging Shakespeare, to explore how productions have historically embraced, promoted, and challenged this supreme writer, to introduce this complex writer to artists of the theatre and to make these texts accessible for the daunted."-from the course description. Plus it's A-term...I am slightly insane, given how the rest of my summer is scheduled.  At least the days are long.

Spectacle

The spectacle and choreography were beautiful at times, and conceptually, it was interesting, but in the end I was unmoved, unchanged. Nihilism and hedonism are overrated, destroying the self in pursuit of what? Shock value (but it's not shocking, not in this age.) I did feel compassion, early, but it was fleeting, it left. It wasn't a waste of time, I certainly didn't hate it, but I feel kinda pissed off today (well, I guess that would be "moved" in a way.) Most people who are truly suffering would often choose to not be, given the choice. And yes, it is the flawed that makes beautiful, I agree with that. It reminds me of people in college dressing up like women for a joke or to see what that experience was like, when it was only playing, touching the surface. They could always take off the clothes (I'm refering to straight dudes).  Or kids with trust funds playing at "being poor" when  they know very well escape from self-imposed poverty is a phone call away.  Or dyeing your skin to see what racism feels like.  There are other ways of using the power you were born with.  You can have empathy without actually having experienced the same suffering as someone else.  In the end, only spectacle to say we are nothing, will be nothing, go to nothing. (And if that's true, aren't there already more powerful forces in the world preaching the same thing as they take as much as they can as fast as they can? And should art offer another view? I don't know, should it?)  Lovely spectacle, but empty. (At least for me. Perhaps I'm too shallow to "get it," or not pretentious enough, or both.  The latter is always a struggle, to fight against being the "us" in the know vs. the "them" who don't get it. It's insecure bs, and I'm guilty of it, but again, fighting it hard.  Think about it, if we can't even have a conversation where we are on the same page, share the insights, we're never gonna communicate, and what you hope to achieve will get lost in the widening chasm of us vs. them. We are all sharing the same space.)

And I suppose this is all a strange thing to say from someone studying acting/theatre, which is itself a form of spectacle, of playing at other to hopefully communicate something. Will have to reconcile that somehow, I guess. (Perhaps I woulda' been more receptive with narrative or context, even just a little. Or the brain-cell killing, could the performance have happened, been as meaningful without it? If I'm honest, that was probably my biggest barrier, I didn't see the point. I went in with an open mind, but with filters, like everyone else. I liked the first part alright, it had context for me.) I'm sick of watching people self-destruct. It happens too often. Maybe that was the point. And obviously, I don't currently believe in the futility of life, or of my own life.

And I'm not looking always for safe and happy, in spite of how it might seem. I don't know how barriers can be pushed, how do you say something that's been said before in a way to get people to pay attention and not muddy the message with excess? Or is the excess the message? I don't know the answer. At what point does oversaturation reach the point of ho-hum and make us numb in our actual lives and in our interactions with the world? This is just a general question, not about the performance.  Where is the edge that you skirt and how far can it be pushed before the message is lost? And what is the message, or does one still exist? What is there left to say, anyway?

I'm sorry. I seem to be ranting alot lately. Nihilism really gets my goat. What you consume affects what you produce.

In a way it's stupid for me to get upset about it. No one is pretending to be anything else than what they are or say they believe.

Background

Debussy's Clare de Lune is an interesting piece of music to write a play around. I'm not finding anything to grab onto, I'll have to listen again. Bach's Goldberg Variations is available at the library now, I didn't have time to go pick it up, that is at the beginning of the play. Guess since I'm not doing my finnish homework now, I could look up Hell's Kitchen in the 1980s.

Hmm. Well, it's quiet, good for 3 am, perhaps. The night dj plays it for them (us) when Johnny requests "the most beautiful music every made" for us, "on the eve of something that ought to last, and not self-destruct." (Terrance McNally, Frankie and Johnny in the Clare de Lune.")

The background noise of the idling cars sounded like rain. Had to run over and check, I just put my laundry outside to finish drying. The sun is still shining.

Ah, it was the neighborhood where actors lived. Close to the theatre district, and Strasberg's Actors Studio is there, and Studio 54 was also there. The downfall of the Irish mafia had just happened, and it was pre-gentrification. (1987.) I'm writing all this here because I need to find it again.

So, the first part of the night I had a new crush, that I had no desire or need to be reciprocated...now I have none.

Sunday's attempt at poetry

Robin's early song
trades in stars for rays of light
wake, oh wake, wake up

Saturday

All this body stuff, body work, movement class, clown class, etc, is to get more into my body and spend less time in my head. Even if I exercise, or walk, or hike alone, I'm in my head. It clears my thoughts, but doesn't necessarily put me in the present moment. In the classes (true for art and language for me), I have to be present. And if I'm talking to someone in person, I'm present. And when I watch live music, or sing (generally), or watch dance or take a class (in person) I'm present. And I suppose that's partially why I do it. Walking especially helps me to make connections between ideas that might seem disparate (like chemistry and design, or biomechanics and life), which is good, but I feel like if I want to do art, but especially performance art, I need the emotional honesty, the moment to moment connection, to be more accessible, and I've found that accessibility more readily through movement with other people present, if that makes sense. There's being present for others and being accountable to others and awareness of space in the moment...and when you're learning something new, there's a hyper-awareness, and presence.  In everyday life we need walls, we'd lose ourselves, be overwhelmed, get destroyed without them.  But in art, I think, in order to communicate, to connect, the walls have to fall.  I suppose there's an art to doing that without self-destructing (either artistically or otherwise)-and I suppose that's what all the practice and mentoring and teaching is for, finding the balancing point between preserving the self and connecting with the other. (And not letting the hype and the trappings or unnecessary, self-imposed suffering, (self-indulgently wallowing in misery or self-imposed poverty paraded loudly in everyone's face, pretension?) become more important than the art or our own humanity.)

Later. Was apparently feeling slightly morbid and melodramatic this morning. Went and had a massage, still a bit stiff though, and to the art exhibit. On the way home, stopped to get something to eat, man gave me a discount again, probably on purpose now. Off to study and find something to wear that's sparkly or pink or something, to the reception.

Later still, almost midnight, thankfully got a ride home, though I hope he made it back to campus and not Lake City. Yikes. Because it was catered, there really wasn't much to do except throw away cups and plates once the party started, and that was good because I tried a drink (which unfortunately coagulated-so fortunately, didn't end up getting served to anyone else) early, and got a bit trashed. I spent most of the evening talking with a donor couple about travel and then with one of the dancers. And then we only ended up breaking everything down, but not washing any dishes. Can't imagine how late it coulda' been. It's two hours later, I'm still feeling that, I didn't even drink the whole thing. Maybe I'll try to read the script again, until I fall asleep.

I'm tired

More phenomenal dancing, especially the swan from Swan Lake, Les Ballets Trockadero de Monte Carlo, tonight. (Comp ticket.) Bus home was thankfully on time, I'm exhausted and it's cold out. (And I brazenly wore a dress  to work today that is shorter than I remember...actually, not sure why I thought it fit when I tried it on. I've been meaning to sell it, but it seemed to fit acceptably better when I wore it with a belt this morning, which then made it shorter. Anyway, it was cold at the bus stop, is what I'm saying.) Helping with the reception for the donors and dancers tomorrow, and then going to another show on Sunday that runs late, and then I can hopefully get some sleep. The only late thing I have scheduled is class for the following week, unless I go to the Tennessee Williams One Act thing. Haven't decided, he's kinda' a (well-written) downer, but I feel like I should see some actual theatre, been mostly going to dance performances lately. Otherwise, promised to go to an art exhibit and I really need to get some weeding plus all the homework done this weekend.  I have now spent five minutes fighting with the drop down menu to log out of flickr. Annoying. I'd let out a scream, but I think someone might be sleeping, and smacking my head on the keyboard probably wouldn't help either.

The other show I enjoyed this week was the Dance MFA concert. Great work in that as well.

Fumbling

I do realize I'm a bit of a hypocrite, having had people do "interventions" on me a couple of times due to my lack of follow-thru, but ripping every part of my personality apart in the process (for my own good, of course.) And so I try to be hyper-aware of doing that to someone else, and the better part of me doesn't always win. But are the only options to stay silent and frustrated to remain in relationships (which aren't real then) or to speak your mind and burn the bridge and spend your life alone? There has to be a middle road, I'm fumbling my way to find that. And what I want sometimes, isn't possible. We all only have so much attention to give. It's not always possible to give more attention or time just because someone else wants it. I suppose that's just the reality, you have to choose where that goes, and even if everyone is clamouring for attention, it's not possible to give that to everyone. (But then again, why invite people into our lives, are we all at the point of just collecting each other?)

Ahh, the joy and struggle (big, big, big) of transformation. Keep on stumbling forward through the weeds. No point in going backwards, though. In this year, better to be pushed along where the tides want to go than to fight the flow and drown. It will all be for the better in the end, though, I am a bit sad for everything I have to let go of (mostly people.)

11:20 getting home from class

Apologies for ranting previously. Just got home from class, fell asleep a bit in the last scene...really need more than 5 hours a night of sleep for days on end (been waking up at 4 am lately.) Really need to rehearse soon as scene partner is gone for our next class. On the bright side, had a good talk with instructor (which is why it's after 11 pm now) and we got dialogue added on both ends of the script, which adds context and more for my character to work with. Maybe my pet crow will inspire a haiku. Finding the most uncomfortable place inside is in reference to doing personal clown work, which is also a way of getting deeper into a character (and physical comedy.) And I am taking a clown intensive this summer.  And that's the class that scares me.

Frustration

(I really need to eat breakfast more regularly.) My frustration levels were so high in class this morning that it took all of my will not to walk out mid-way. I've never walked out of a class before, and it woulda' been pretty melodramatic, so I'm glad I didn't do it. I was being passed over in class as far as being able to speak, both in the small group and the class as a whole. Finally, I spoke up and said that I wanted a turn to speak since I had been passed over (as if I wasn't sitting there.) There were only six of us in class. I was telling the student that sits at my desk when I'm not here about it. She gave me a granola bar for my brain:)

Now I'm still trying to contain myself from biting off some random person's head, and practicing human decency in spite of feeling like my head's gonna explode. Gonna be a really, really long day.  I can actually imagine being a cat furling and unfurling my claws. I haven't ever dealt with being treated as if I'm invisible or inconsequential very well. (This is by FAR the pointiest stone in my shoe. It is the thing that makes me the bat sh** crazy chick. I'm slowly getting better.) At least I managed to speak up for myself today, so actually, kudos to me. (Even a lack of a response is a response. Time to let go for good. What it ever was (flirting? possible friendship? acquaintance?) I don't know, but it's certainly nothing now. Please try not to hate me for wanting to know you. In the real world, I've generally treated you well and given you the benefit of  the doubt, so forgive my confusion of what I'm guilty of, or why I was suddenly no longer worth knowing.) And am now aware of my "most uncomfortable place." So that's a step up. (Am gonna need that later for class.) Something weak to be broken and fixed (quite long-standing. This last part isn't about class, just something whose time has come to face.)

And I've met a lot of really cool people I'd like be friends with this week, so then, non-kudos to me for not exchanging contact info. I'm flaky about that most of the time.

Thank God weird and loud noises along with stomping around are perfectly acceptable behaviors in my other class. Gotta love that. And thank God for the reprieve on the final script from Friday until Monday 'cos it wasn't realistically gonna get done tonight, since the other class runs late.

Doing work that matters

Oh, and it did record. I couldn't see the files earlier, good thing I recharged the battery and deleted the files before returning the camera. Shoulda' listened first, I suppose, to see if the mic worked.

Trudged around SODO last night to go to a party celebrating Co-ops. It was at a really cool warehouse that re-sells building materials. Need to go wander around there again with a camera. There are a lot of art spaces down there, they are easier to get to by transit than I had imagined, so also good to know. (I wouldn't want to wander around alone after dark though.) Another night to get fired-up and inspired about all the great work people are doing in the city and around the world. These ideas and actions so rarely make the news (same with the art) that unless you end up at an event where people talk about it, you'd never know. Meanwhile, we get to hear about some celebrity's clothing options, or if their baby bump is showing...you know, hooray for them, but in the big scheme of things, who cares? I realize it's a distraction, but there are real issues in the world, it would be helpful if people could see something being done to address them, and therefore have some hope, or at least a little less pessimism. We are not all alone in this world. (Off my highhorse now.)

I have a note about Jim Jarmusch on my desk, regarding what the connection is to Finland. (Night on Earth.)

Incidently, more than half of the people I mentioned the vertigo to have had it; most think it's the ear-rock/crystal thing.

Ooh, a quick start guide to the camera

Oh, ha, ha.  I guess there was an easier manual for the camera, I was trying to use the one someone downloaded from the internet when inside the camera bag there was a "quick" guide to using the camera.  Don't know about the mic's though.  The camera's due tomorrow, but better late than never.

Was somehow just reminded of Jim Jarmusch (a co-worker and I were talking about Finnish films, I don't think he's Finnish, though-conversations go all over the place), because of Night on Earth, and then Hal Hartley which reminds me of an actor I used to date, who loved both directors. He was into really "talky" films, I guess, more the Hal Hartley, I think that was his favorite director. Haven't thought about that in years, I might have to watch Jim Jarmusch films now. I wasn't into the latter, I think that was a source of tension between us. (He, the actor, also used to study at the school I'm at now. It takes me a long time to get around to things. We dated in the 90's. I probably still have the Meisner tapes he gave me. It was between thoughts of acting for me, late 80' and now.  He eventually moved to and disappeared into the black hole of Hollywood.)

Inspired just after 10 pm

inspired once again, by a roomful of people fired up and walking their talk. I wish I had more focus.

And I spoke to someone about one of the workshops I'm taking this summer, I'm in for one intense experience. (Actually, what she told me scared the pants off of me.) I'm not backing out, but I'll either be really liberated or a weeping pile of human flesh by the end of it.  May I not be too feint of heart (faint?) 36 hours of (emotionally intense) class in 3 weeks.

Art matters. Keep making it. Keep doing it. Keep sharing it.

Just shy of 6 am

It's Monday, the robin has been singing for a couple of hours now, but the traffic is increasing and it's getting harder to hear. There's a damp coolness from the rain in the air coming thru the open window. I need to buckle down and figure out how I'm gonna get all this work done this week, perhaps I need to use vacation time. The video project is a lot of work, especially since none of us have any experience, I don't have a clue how or where we do the editing. It replaces the speaking exam, but those were pretty simple and painless by comparison, walk in a room, attempt to converse for 5-10 minutes...done.

I like who I am when I'm with the other one, partially it's because the really early awkwardness is gone, and since once we were housemates (I've almost always lived in shared housing, I've had a lot of housemates), he already knows what I'm like when my guards are down, so I don't have to keep them up. I liked who I became when I was around the crush too, which might have something to do with why I imagine I like him. I'm still trying to separate all of that out, but I like him as a person as well.

Time to get on with the day. Darn, I just lost access to the bathroom.

Just tried to spray this perfume sample onto a kleenex so I could sniff it, but missed and hit my arm with a blast. It left an odd scent once I tried to wash it off, not entirely pleasant. For the past couple of days I keep having sparrows fly over to me as if they want something, or want attention. It's odd, but interesting.

After meeting with scene partner

And as far as the scene work goes: how would things play out different if Johnny is lying? What would he hope to gain? If he's just a player, she's already played him, there's nothing to get, she doesn't have any money. And is he slightly stalker-ish? Not in the scene, but later he says that even if the police were to come, he'd sneak back in...that's creepy, even if he's joking. And yet the play doesn't really seem creepy overall, but maybe I sympathize with him too much.

Need to test the recording equipment now. Just recording myself reading the script, two birds with one stone. I'm really unmotivated, tired of sending out missives into the void, still I continue. Someday I'll get over him, but that's still not today. (And the other one keeps calling at the last minute, even when I say I need more notice to make time. I'm not being coy, I'm busy. I don't have any free time for over a week after right now, and now I need to learn the camera equipment.  This has been going on for over a month. A non-date date.) And sh(oo)t, we HAVE to shoot the video at some point this week. Crap. It looked like it had recorded earlier but now isn't showing up. I can do it again, I just don't want someone else seeing my crappy line-reading.  I wonder if I go into the office if someone will show me basics of using the equipment? I find technical writing to not be very helpful to me, and manuals seems to make things harder than they actually are. Tell me how to turn it on and record, and what the settings are and how to play back, put the trouble-shooting in later, but it's always all thrown in together in the manuals, and I feel like I have to root around just to find really basic info. Oh, good, my classmate likes manuals.

Mother's Day in the US

Happy Mothers' Day to anyone who has ever mothered, been that place of comfort and love for any child (whatever the age). Not all family is blood related, and all love and nurturing matters. Thank you.

Vertigo

Gum, Post Alley-L. Herlevi

Wicked case of vertigo while at work yesterday, something that has never happened like that before. I've had it twice before, but I woke up with it both those times, had thought it might be the "rocks" in my ears (that's what a doctor thought the first time it happened), but a physical therapist friend pointed out that it could also be a pinched nerve or some upper back issue. Guess I'll get my ears checked and go get a massage (which hopefully doesn't make it temporarily worse.) I'm kinda afraid to go anywhere alone today. It gets pretty bad, I can't just lie down in the middle of the street if it happens again. Maybe I really should take up yoga...I'm supposed to test out video equipment this weekend and meet with my scene partner, and was gonna go check on my plants this morning. Hope they are still alive, I was planning on watering yesterday, but obviously didn't. A friend drove all the way from his home to pick me up and drop me at home so I didn't have to take a crowded bus, which was beyond nice, but I went to bed, and am just considering trying to walk around now. No dizziness as I sit here, but haven't tried to move my head or bend forward, yet. I can turn my head to the right without the room spinning now, so an improvement.

The bright side of the vertigo is that I probably needed to have some body work done, and I wouldn't have done it if I hadn't been forced to go. They have a nice sauna as well. And the most flattering mirror I have had the pleasure of standing half-dressed in front of. Oh, and because we just had a little heat wave since I put them in the ground, squash is actually doing quite well, but man, do I ever need to get back to the garden this week and do some serious weeding. Warm spell was good for EVERYTHING, and everything has shot up...especially the tenacious bindweed.


Happy (gorgeous, at least here) Friday!

Got an "A" on the test, surprisingly. He didn't knock off points for forgetting consonant gradation.  I've snuck my window open, until I'm told to close it.  The air is lovely, soft, slightly cool.

For clarification

Since I speak in metaphors, and since I might now be watched due to how this blog is being accessed: "elephant" is a metaphor for old, buried emotional issues; "theatre" really is about theatre, I'm taking acting classes; and talk about an "unrequited crush", is actually, sadly, about an unrequited crush who is barely aware that I'm alive. (And the haikus are my attempt to write poetry.) In case anyone was wondering, I hope that clears it up. No hidden messages.

Frankie and Johnny

So, our scene has fear, emotional vulnerability, tenderness and underlying sexual tension (or sexual energy), but no anger or volatility or hate in it, and therefore really hard to play as an improv...especially after watching all the explosive reactions in the previous scenes. We went last, and had a really short time. We'll have to go first next time, so we can get more feedback. (Also, people will have more energy to respond to it, it was almost 10 pm by the time we started.) I really want to learn from this process, and you have to have time to present the work. All the other scenes are essentially fights. Ours is someone trying to find love as a second chance, and someone terrified of that. We have seven more weeks to go.

Thursday, eclipse

Take care out in the world today. Breath. Stay centered. Be kind. Eclipse later today.

I walked outside to put some flowers in the compost, the air thick, clouds at ground level, but not too cool, and suddenly I'm itching to travel. The moment brought back Portugal, but I have no destination in mind, just the longing for movement, for the openness that travelling brings for me (for a lot of people), new experiences, new people, new insights.  I'm not travelling this year. I'm paying bills and studying and keeping up my end of things. My choice. I've travelled a lot in recent years (2- to 8-week trips), wonderful experiences, but I need to focus on other parts of my life, and I'm generally fine with that. But sometimes, I'm caught off guard with longing.

Walking back from the castle, March 2009 L. Herlevi

My poor brain

My brain has everything confused, haven't a clue how I did on the test. And it doesn't really matter, in the big picture, what the grade is, I just don't like getting bad grades. Would help if I could study more. Still really super distracted. Trying to deal with a lot of mental, emotional and physical baggage, and right now I don't feel like I have enough time to deal with any of it, and so am feeling unsettled and unfocused. (Organization has never been a strong point for me, but I feel more disorganized than usual...and that's saying alot.)

Tonight on the bus, everyone on electronic devises, one book, but not being read.

Tuesday

Mid-term tomorrow. We've missed so much class, and I've been so unfocused this quarter, I have very little memory of knowing any of this information. Have tickets to a music concert tonight, too. Even if I go, I'll study beforehand somewhere in the neighborhood. I'll get more studying done if I don't go home at any rate.

I'll have to get in all my garden volunteer hours in soon, too, I looked at my schedule yesterday and I have no free time from the middle of July until second week of September. Sometimes I'm a bit nuts, but opportunities arose and I took them. (Which is good, as my previous plans are not panning out.)

And when there is "pie in the sky" and "realistic" how do you negotiate between the two? How do you envision what is possible and not sell yourself short? There are the briefest of moments where windows open up to reach the "pie in the sky" and make them attainable, but once those have closed, are there ever second chances? Then again, this is the land of second chances.

The concert was the Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center, and even though I don't know squat about chamber music, I enjoyed it. The rest of the audience was enthusiastic as well. I somehow got on a mailing list at some point and was asked to volunteer for shows at the theatre, in exchange I get tickets, which is how I've ended up at these shows, and it's a good trade: I get to see performances I wouldn't otherwise, I couldn't afford to go to them, and I get exposed to a wide variety of artists. On the way home, most of the people sitting near me on the bus were reading actual, paper books. Back to studying, I think I have the verbs, now for everything else.

Slight change of plans

Okay. Just put myself on the ledge for the summer. Might leap and be in over my head, might leap and find out I actually can swim.  Life should scare you a bit (in a good way) sometimes. (I am practicing up to the point where I have to jump. It's not yet.)

Later on Sunday

Addendum to previous post.  There's also the pervasive myth of "talent." And the idea that one can give up on the work by using the excuse that other people have more "talent" than you, or that you don't have talent, when in truth, sure, there's talent, but there's also sweat and passion, and oftentimes the latter two can make up for the lack of the former. (Especially, if one takes talent for granted and doesn't do the work.)

And sure there are things you needed to start early (or have the body type): ballet lessons, gymnastics training, basketball, etc., but even late in life you could still be a weightlifter, a black-belt, a competitive marathoner, an archer, etc. And you could become a writer, a poet, a painter, a photographer, a sculptor, an actor, etc., at any age, body type and child-prodigy status not-withstanding. Daily, people reinvent their lives out of necessity or bravery.

Finding the will to fail

A musician I met on a train once suggested I read "Art and Fear" and it just came up again, so I'll keep looking in the used bookstores, or perhaps the library.  I made something for a bake sale later today and missed going to church, so am reading "Drops Like Stars" by Rob Bell.  He talks about suffering (here it is again, kinda' what I was talking about in the post I think I ended up deleting) and how that bonds us and is the means for growth. I still maintain that we can grow from deep joyful experiences as well. (I'm kinda' tired of suffering.) But he also talks about perfection vs. failure. Which is kinda' my problem, I often feel like things have to be perfect (like being born fully formed out of the head of Zeus) and it paralyzes me into inaction. Where what would be the more useful, productive course would be to try and fail, and yet I am terrified of failing, so I make excuses not to start (exception being cooking). I think I was already timid, and then so beat down when I was wrong when I was younger that I became afraid of trying. And I know I'm not that person anymore. And I know I can have encouragement if I ask for it, or seek out experiences where the other people are secure enough in themselves to offer it to others without feeling threatened by someone else's success. And I'm grateful for "teachers" that have come into my life and said basically, "Yeah, make a fool of yourself. Overdo it. Fail. It's okay. It's how you learn." I digress. The idea is that by trying and failing and then using the failure as an opportunity to grow, even if only in small increments, progress, growth occurs. Whereas if you think you need to be perfect from the get-go (and there is this pervasive myth and focus on that out in the background noise of the world) you don't learn anything.  How can you be perfect at something you have never done before (unless it's beginner's luck?) We really can't be. We see the bright moments (of others), but we rarely glimpse the hours of practice behind them, the sacrifices made to achieve them.  It's better just to start.  And make steps everyday, even if only centimeters forward.  Practice is committment.

Saturday, feeling at peace and therefore blank

The Saturday thoroughfares were empty near lunch. No traffic. Just the sound of  wind through the trees and the clinking of silverware as I walked passed the hopeful restaurants open for business, only no one there to buy lunch. Wafting incense of spices infusing in the oil. The first great weather of the season, and everyone's outside enjoying it. Somewhere else. At the beach. At the park. Watching the boats. But not here.

Morning walk

wire fence between us
sun rising greeting morning
shadows slap my eyes

I can hear my sister's bird outside my window, but do not see it when I look. (There is a type of bird that reminds me of her.  I often encounter them outside where I work.)  Got all the collective writing done last night and shared it with my scene partner, now need to do the individual stuff.

My insomnia seems to have switched to the 4 am hour, is that progress? (There aren't any radio shows I like at 4 am.) Oh, adding to the list: I now need new jeans, as well. (or if not new, a pair without holes.) On a side note, I remember doing everything I could think of to wear-in my first pair of Levi's 501s shrink-to-fits. I think they started to fade at about 6 months to a year (I've only had these for about 6 months). I wore them for 7(!) years, in the end they were cut-offs, and had paint stains from theatre, but they lasted a long, long time.

Back to friends

And friendship is underrated, especially by me in recent months. Reforming now. Good to know if you actually like the person, are compatible, without all the weirdness. (That goes for all of them. Admittedly, I've never been able to go back in the other direction. Will tend to stay as friends. Though maybe I will be different this time, not let the door shut completely.  And I would like to date, I'm just driving myself crazy.) Plus, there's way too much going on right now, I haven't even cooked in about a month, and I like cooking. Just haven't been home. I buy food, and don't eat it unless I take it to work. (Oh, and one of my housemates hates me now because I told him that he couldn't just take things in the kitchen and give them to Goodwill just because he didn't use them. That he couldn't give other people's things away. And that he needed to clean up after himself because his food mess was attracting ants onto the table. I might have not been particularly nice about it. He hasn't spoken to me in a over a month. We got along before, when I was more of a doormat. Anyway, it makes it uncomfortable to be in the kitchen.) There are 8 people living here.

The video project is a lot of work. :)

Have a very, very rare free Thursday evening, think I'll go check out art, and then find somewhere to park myself and bang out all this writing I need to do.  Was supposed to meet up with a friend tonight, but he hasn't gotten back to me, and I really need to write.

May 2

A mi abuela, feliz cumpleaños, donde quiera que estés.  She would have been 111 today. (And near the end of her life here, she spoke only in spanish.)  She was an interesting woman, but not the kind of grandmother that you bake cookies with or have read stories to you.  We are who we are. (She was, however, a fabulous cook.)


Celina at 105 in 2007. El Paso, TX.

Wednesday's bad haiku

Opportunity recedes
lost in accumulation
to be forgotten

Too many syllables. So I guess:

Opportunity
lost, in accumulation
too soon forgotten

Can punctuation be used in haikus?

Feeling blah

It's lovely out, finally warming up. It was chilly yesterday, I wasn't wearing enough clothing, didn't feel like standing and waiting for the bus, so walked 40 blocks home. Ended up missing meeting up with a friend. Planning would be good, it's always last minute. Feeling kinda' blah, trying to get rid of headache through drinking water, see if that actually works. I tend to take too many anti-inflammatories, so trying to cut back.  I relate all too well with this character in the play my scene is from. It's interesting, glad the playwright wrote it down.  I do find myself sympathizing too much with my scene partner's character though, but his behavior really would raise red flags.  The water seems to have gotten rid of the headache, a pleasant surprise.

Sometimes, it would be useful to have a cell phone. (Advantages not out-weighing disadvantages, yet. Maybe I'll look at it again, when I get my bills paid off.) A working camera would be good, too. (And new hiking boots (since I seem to be making a list now); blew them out last night.)