Tuesday, Move Done

Well, when one's hand is finally forced...one does what needs to get done.  And in the end, it was only a car load of stuff, but been dreading it for a while.  Recycled three boxes worth.  Dumped everything into the living room so I had to deal with it.  Enjoyed looking through all the photos, and reading old letters, and even old college papers...I was more articulate than I remember.  Also, found some old Maria Irene Fornes' scripts from theatre class, do not remember being assigned those at all.  Surprised.  Anyway, it's all upstairs now, but somehow it's more organized than before, only I can't really get into my closet at the moment.  And at one point I was trying to play the drums, so that still has to be moved here; he's bringing the kick by tomorrow, but that's the end of it.

I feel grimy.  All the boxes have been in a damp basement for eight (!) years.  Many of the photos were sticking together, but otherwise didn't seem damaged in any way.  Got a surprising amount done today; I suppose I was focused because I had to be.

I took off today, went for a short walk in the morning: cold and gloomy.  Moody.  Reminded me of my first winter in Seattle.  Was living in a house in Wallingford, it was just before Christmas.  Used to walk into the U-District and sit on the floor of the aisles in B. Dalton (I think) it was, and read Dylan Thomas poems.  I remember it being cold and gray, and I was working at Toys R Us at South Center, swing shift, so my mornings were free.  I had just dropped out of college because I couldn't pay tuition, and I owed back tuition.  (I'd somehow talked the school into letting me stay one final quarter without actually paying for it, including room and board.  I was ballsy, because I didn't know what else to do.  They gave me almost a year to pay it back.)  Don't remember if it snowed that year; just cold and gray, like now.  I only stayed here for a few months, on April Fool's Day I was offered a job up in Bellingham that had free room and board for six months, so I took it.  (My life has changed several times on April Fool's Day; generally for the better.  That's why I remember it.)

Here's an attempt to capture the moodiness of the day.  Also, the Hellebores were in bloom; about two months early.

Heron, December 15/L Herlevi 2015

Moody, December 15/L Herlevi 2015

Greenlake, December 15/L Herlevi, 2015

Early Bloom, December 15/L Herlevi, 2015

Wednesday morning

My brain is parched and barren. The few, dry seeds rattling under the surface lie dormant. They are someone else's words waiting to grow and speak through me. Waiting for the right moment to flourish. Waiting for rain.

For better or worse, application has been sent. A bit of a relief to have it done.

Finito

Okay, so clown is over. For the final exercise, my partner and I ended up going last. I said to someone else, "how do you go after that?" (about the ones before. What is there left to do? It was like when I was a little kid, maybe four or five years old, I thought that I'd better hurry up and write songs because there are only so many notes, and everything will be done already. Well, there are an infinity of choices still to be made.) She said, "forget about it." I was imagining a story, my "as if", and it went alright. (I didn't tell my partner; that wasn't the point.) It was just a starting place for me to walk out, whatever happened after that was free to happen. I did enter and exit with same idea though. The exercise was: 1) entrance, 2) shift/change, 3) exit. I didn't know what would happen in the middle section, I just tried to connect with my exercise partner. I can share that without breaking any trust, it's a basic exercise. It was hard to keep it "clown" and not go into "acting." I was trying to stay connected to my partner, and "clown" would include the audience, "acting" not necessarily. And I think everything made sense for a moment. It was a very sweet (the improv, in general), but also a cummulative, way to end the class. (And it didn't involve shame or failure.) Incidently, in trying to juggle: clown, connection with audience, acting on impulse, energy levels, connection with partners, failing, etc...I haven't a clue who my clown is at this point but...the actress (as well as the person) is expanding. The options have grown exponentially...and that is worth every penny and every second spent here. (And what I wanted from the class.  Maybe I will make people laugh someday, but that wasn't the point for me.) And so yes, I'll reiterate the statement that this was one of the best decisions I've made for me.

It's over now

"We would all like to be part of; to create that theatre which we could participate in with pride, on which we could reflect with pride. To do so one must buy a ticket. The price of admission is choice. Choice to participate in the low, the uncertain, the unproved, the unheralded, to bring the truth of yourself to the stage, not the groomed, sure, "Talented", approved person you are portraying, not the researched, corseted, paint-by-numbers presentation without flaws, not the Great Actor, but yourself, as uncertain, as unprepared, as confused as any of us are." -David Mamet

I like these people, it was a privilege to spend the past eleven weeks with them. To show up every week and pay a witness to the work done in private, the work done apart from one another. It went well, for everyone. I want to see how far it can go. 17 days until clown class. 19 days until interviews. 23 days until we work together again. Counting down.  "To live truthfully under imaginary circumstances..." why should it matter, what difference does it make? Somehow it does though. Letting it all be open-ended, following the questions, the wants, out to wherever they lead, and trusting in the process. Trusting that where I am at this moment, is the right place for me to be.