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.