Stuff

The rescheduled Ibsen rehearsal left me with more time to go over the whole scene, and for cooking.  I had been planning on going straight there, but a sudden rain storm, and then a break in the weather, helped to change my mind, and I went home first (after drinking coffee and going over my class/script notes.)  I had nothing waterproof, and I didn't want my script/notes to get soaked.  Checked email to verify the time only to find the rehearsal had been cancelled, otherwise, I would have just shown up.  Trying to work with everyone's schedule is like herding cats.  Now we will try for Wednesday, before class, and I'll be late, which is lame on my part, but there's a volunteer party for the exhibit I've been working at, and I'm broke, and we'll get fed.

There's a script description of Thea as being kinda' weak and timid ("quietly" "desperately"), but then there is subtext in what she says, and what she's done, and the idea that she's the character that represents "courage"...she embodies what Hedda might do (choose what she wants, i.e., Eilert, who has reformed himself, through Thea, and come back to town), but lacks the "courage" or will, to do.  She (Hedda) lacks the will to choose her own happiness, and chose safety, in marrying Tessman, instead.  Anyway, the script notes make Thea sound mousy and clueless, and yet she throws the first volley after entering the room by suggesting she go speak to Mr. Tessman, and it just keeps escalating.  And her acts of courage go against the idea of weak, she chose her own happiness, regardless of any scandal that will bring; she's the strongest character in the play, she's willing to lose everything.  Anyway...all this is to say, I still need to decide if I'm addressing my words to Eilert, as encouragement, or to Hedda, as a challenge.  Could go either way.  Just have to decide what I want.

Shakespeare seems like some far-off memory, we'll have had three weeks off by the time we're back together.   At least I know my lines.

Sibelius is in less than two weeks, and I was just reminded that I'm working a fundraiser this weekend, so I guess snowshoeing is out for now.  (Random, I know.  Got invited to go up to the mountains on Saturday.)

I was excitedly pointing out to everyone I had contact with last night, the full moon and Jupiter.  Will be even closer tonight, if it's clear.  After 9 pm, I believe.

Thursday

We ran through Ibsen last night, without a break.  Discussing subtext, and breaking the scenes down (only covered about 5-6 pages of text.)  It was great.  Before that, we'd talked about knowing the text backward and forward, and knowing your character and having made strong choices about them before walking into the room.  Being willing to defend your point-of-view (with text).  How good writing has no filler in it, every word is there for a reason.  How the "events" that happen in scene change the course of what happens next; about reversals, and gaps (where a character walks into the scene expecting one thing, and finds something else.)  The things that keep us all engaged (audience included), the specificity of choices, and why, because if you don't know why, neither will anyone else watching the performance.  Good stuff.  Love this class.  (And will get critiqued for acting next week, so scared about that, but it will make me better, so I just have to deal with it.)  Found myself getting jealous for Thea when I was watching Eilert and Hedda speak in code around her.

My back is killing me, and because it's heart awareness month or something, I keep worrying that I'm having a heart attack...probably a good thing I didn't go to med school, so easily influenced by stories.

Not really a day off

Acupuncture, then four hours of working on Ibsen, then running home to pick up music, and running back to Macbeth rehearsal, which ended early because apparently a sandwich at 11 am was no longer working for energy at 5:30 pm, and my scene partner was basically having to read my lines for me, since I could no longer remember them.  I memorized it a couple of weeks ago, but kinda' just blanking out by the end of rehearsal tonight.  Can't work well when you're hungry.  Can't even think straight when you are hungry.  Then a choir rehearsal I was talked into going to.  I haven't gone all winter because it conflicts with Shakespeare class, but didn't have class tonight.  We sang this piece five years ago, I only remember the last section.  It's twelve minutes, I think.  I'll have to look it up, they are performing it in less than three weeks.  Man, it's high.  (Sibelius, Oma Maa.)  I'm wiped out.

Sunday

Was gifted with a haircut yesterday, which I needed.  She cut a good foot of hair off, maybe more.  This is the shortest it's been since I cut out a really bad perm when I was in college.  (And for the record, I was ever hopeful I would suddenly be beautiful, but processing and my hair don't mix.  Thankfully, I finally learned my lesson at that point and stopped.)  It looks good, but I don't feel feminine, I identify that with long hair on me (and only on me, not judging anyone else on those standards.)  How do I redefine it, then, when I can no longer hide behind appearances?  And on another level, it's also liberating, to be seen for whatever I am, beyond that.

Walking in the grocery store this morning, to pick up some bread, I made the briefest of eye contact with a man.  Someone I used to know.  A long time ago.  You walking out, me walking in.  Took a moment to register.  Time wears us, changes us.  If there ever was a nemesis in my life, that'd be you; not a lover, not even a friend, just two people thrown together by fate, with extreme clashing of personalities.  Cruelty and insanity.  I would've been happy to never cross paths again.  You looked good.  So did I.  The best one could hope for.  For a while there, at the time, I was treading in the "bat shit crazy" territory, and you were cruel.  I don't blame you, I coulda' walked away.  By the time circumstances caused us to part, I had regained my mind.  Why you today?  "Happy Valentine's Day!" says the Universe, laughing.

A yellow light warmed the air just before nightfall, an otherwise dark and gloomy day.  Stopped by the garden on the way home from an urban hike.  Artichoke has happily recovered, and the collards are healthy looking.  Basically, trees at this point, about 3-4 years old, have not been able to remove them, the stems have become so thick and woody, the pruners wouldn't cut through them last year, and I didn't have an axe.  Have a patch of cilantro (that seems to have "girded it's loins"...something sorta' sturdy about it, against what weather, I'm not sure.  Been a mild winter, so much so, that nature seems to have decided that spring is here and has set out in blooms.)  And some beets are lingering, but most of the seeds I planted at the end of the growing season have failed to germinate.  Lots of bare soil.

And I don't hate Valentine's Day, but I still have a playlist of anti-love songs playing through my head. (The main one being "Valentine's Day is Over," by Billy Bragg.)

Happy Valentine's Day!

Wednesday

Ash Wednesday.  Got off at a later stop to look for a priest.  After joining in a circle for a reading and a prayer, two lines formed: one for the priest, and a second for a lay person, a woman.  In the end I stood in line for the woman, someone like me.  Walking to work after, I was reminded of volunteering to give communion, which I often do, but not usually the bread portion.  A young man stood in front of me and asked me to bless him.  I remember thinking, "Who am I to give anyone a blessing?"  But I did it.  Powerful and  humbling, like washing someone's feet.

And this act, a blessing of ashes, to mark the time, set it aside: for contemplation, for reevaluation, for thoughtfulness for what I have done how I have lived and what I might choose differently.  Every day an act of defiance to the things that stood in my way.  Things I put there, or things I passively let box up my life.  Every day an act of bravery.  To not procrastinate, to reach out, to forgive, to ask for forgiveness, to appreciate, to say it, to lift someone up, to be a fool.  To offer and to receive.

The predicted "late" rain, came early and washed everything clean again.

The film class also began today: exciting, and scary, and fun.  Very intense for the actors.  Have to be prepared.

And it's interesting that the majority of the actors are over 30; curious if that will affect the casting decisions and/or story decisions for final directing projects.

Sky and words

Got up to go look at the planetary alignment this morning, the lightening of the eastern sky already dimming the stars by a little after 6 am.  Saw maybe four (one was very dim) of the planets; the sky clear, and air warm enough to walk out in my pajamas with only a sweater thrown over. Told my housemate about it, and walked back out to show it to her; only a few minutes later, but most of the stars had faded.

The daylight grows each day in minutes, and in the course of the past month, it seems we've gained an hour on either end, each day's twilight lingering just a little bit longer as we head toward the equinox.  Last night the sky finally cloudless (and moonless) enough to see the stars.  Just before heading out the door this morning, I look out the window and a fog has settled in, filling in the empty spaces with bright clouds instead of the sun.  When did that happen?  Where did that come from?

We worked with accents last night; just picking an accent and running the monologues in it.  Really opened everyone up, even the way we moved, and how we phrased things.  And I realized it's not enough (for me, anyway) to speak it out loud, I need other humans in front of me, to focus, to give the words to someone.  We've been working with "antithesis" (a thought or word set against another for contrast), and I realize that mine are spread out across the piece, which is why I didn't think I had any.  Also, I rephrase similar ideas over again, but I think the meaning is slightly different...paraphrasing has helped in distinguishing those.  There are no throw-away words in dialogue/monologues, so why are you saying each one now?  You actually have to know the answer to that or it won't connect.

Working on the script analysis for three plays.  Guess once you slog through the first one and figure out what the questions mean, might as well do the others.  And I've started reading the Scottish play again...actually, it's pretty short.

It's like building a road map to get you through the scene.  You work through the script with the questions, and then realize, "oh, this is where we are going ('what do you want?'), and these are the steps (the action, 'what are you doing?') we take to get there."  Oh.  Talking about it with my scene partner helped as well.  Saying it out loud clarified it.  (And helped me get past that "perfectionist" tendency where I have to have the "right" answer before I can respond.  No, I have to have an answer, then try it, and if it doesn't work, try another one.  The world ain't gonna end if I make a mistake.)

(And I think if the performers have clarity of where they are going (the point of it all) and the steps between A and Z, the audience will more easily stay with you.)  (I say that from having seen a lot of shows and thinking about what kept me engaged, and what made me zone out...and understand, I go to the shows wanting to follow the performance, and be invested in what happens next.)

Tired

I have found, lately, that writing takes more energy than I have.  Saw two shows last week linking (in my mind, anyway) ideas of memory and identity, both on an individual level, and on a cultural level.  Currently lacking the energy to write coherently on this, but there is a spark there, so I will try.

I'm exhausted.  Find I can barely stay awake for the last 1/2 hour of class, though perhaps that's in part because we spend a lot of time sitting.  Film class starts in a week, meeting with my first group before then: we've been assigned scenes/roles already, so need to do work on that.  Dreamt about auditioning, woman in dream laughed at me and said I was not "getting a call back."  The best one can do is to do all the prep work and be ready to go.  We were shaping monologues last night (though, I didn't get to mine, so I'm a little behind now...I'm gonna have to have my roommate watch/listen, she did offer, between now and Monday) and talking about being specific vs. general, and that was one of the things the casting director said to me (and when you do something, do it!) when I worked up the nerve to ask her how I could improve as opposed to walking out with my tail between my legs and giving up (in the dream.)  You know everything you need to say, and then you say and experience it as if for the first time (every time.)  Discovery in the moment.  Anyway, reading Macbeth, and need to read Hedda Gabler again (read over the weekend, plus Twelfth Night) with script analysis, before I meet with my group.  I am excited to start that.  Meeting with my scene partner tonight.  (And we got to go over it in front of the class last night, so at least that one is a little further along.)

And I should list stuff to give away, go through the boxes again...I don't want to move them again.