Waiting

No birds outside my window this morning, however, a starling was singing it's heart out on the telephone pole above my bus stop: as with snow, I'll take what I can get, and where. (I like starlings, they sing with such abandon, throwing their entire beings into it, as if that's why they were here.)

Later, when dusk had settled in, the gray clouds were finally pushed to the edges of the horizon, leaving the glowing sky a wide open canopy. Waited for an hour and a half for my classmate to show to work on the chair exercises. No show. No answer to email. No call. Shit. We have to have three in by Sunday. I hope my other two show up. Maybe he thought it was tomorrow. Tried to work my way through the book. It bores the crap out of me. I can read it in small, small bits. I get what it's trying to say and I get why we are reading it, but it goes off on this lofty, esoteric crap about nothingness (which I get, I do)...it just gets a little pompous. Granted, I was already annoyed at being stood up, and using more than I should of my budget to sit there and wait, so that probably added to my distaste of the book. Luckily, it's short. The technical stuff interests me, the trying to explain it doesn't, that part where he's trying to intellectualize something he's being told not to think so hard about. The breath description, his failure at it, the tension in his body, his failure at progression in learning, all interesting.

I just read someone saying that trying to learn acting by reading a book, or learning golf by reading a book isn't the same as physically doing the thing: putting it in muscle memory. I intellectualize too much, out of laziness sometimes; too much effort to do the work. I guess I'm finally ready to get to work already; I don't want to read about his process, I want to hold the bow myself and learn to shoot it.

On the bright side, got the bathroom cleaned while I waited for my computer to boot up to write this. Think I'll go write, or try to figure out my schedule for the next month. Kinda' busy.

I thought a little more about it. Part of my annoyance stems from being kept as an observer, separated from the action by a window. He's only describing his experience, not really opening that up to anyone else. (And in general, I'm pretty sick of that stance.) I'm glad he found enlightenment if he did, but that's open to everyone, if they want it (and even a few that didn't want it, received it anyway) it's not a special "in" club. Being excluded by default is part of that stone in my shoe, not gonna kill me, but it pisses me off. Bringing a lot of my own baggage into that book, and moving in with it. Ha. And that little dagger twists just a bit more.

Hm. Didn't realize fruit flies lived this long.