Sunday

Checking Out the Scene, March 22/L Herlevi 2015

Just got home from one of the Ambassador Project shows at On the Boards, James Holt's Prelude and Untitled.  http://www.ontheboards.org/special-events/otb-ambassador-event-prelude-and-untitled The first was about a half-hour long wash of dissonant sound, produced by around 30 musicians.  I believe they met for the first time shortly before the performance.  There was no musical score (for the performers), instead, they all wore some form of headphones and each received their notes via their smart phone.  The musicians were spread throughout the lobby, the audience was encouraged to move around the space while the music played, most people did.

It reminded me of the sound of an orchestra tuning before a performance, in a good way (with a changing chord running through it.)  Got lost in it.  This would be a good soundtrack for either meditation, or writing, for me.  I found myself on the floor, almost under the piano, by the end of the first piece, and that felt like that perfect spot to listen to the second one (I ended up in the middle of the sound), piano, pizzicato strings, and percussive instruments.  A fantastic way to spend an hour on a Sunday.  Loved, loved, loved, loved, loved it.

Beautiful Toilet, March 22/L Herlevi 2015

Earlier in the afternoon, I went to a benefit performance of Leonard Bernstein's Mass.  I enjoyed it, though I wanted the choirs to be a little louder, they got lost under the sound of the orchestra and in the shape of the room.  I've never heard it live before.  (Photo is because when I asked if there was a bathroom, this one was pointed out to me with the added comment that it was "beautiful."  It is quite lovely.)

Be Here Now, March 22/L Herlevi 2015

Last night I went to this shorts program at Theatre off Jackson that was part of a solo festival.  They were quite good, as well.  Creative, interesting, physically, well done.  The last piece was a staged reading, and while the writing was good, and interesting, and the performer was good, I found myself wishing it were as performance ready as the others.  I'm all for staged readings, but was left wondering if there were not other short solo pieces that could have been performed in it's place.  C'est la vie.

At any rate, I found myself inspired to write, but also tired.  Had an idea as I got on the bus and thought I could wait to write it down until I got home:  Nope!  I've been so exhausted, that by the time the bus had gone a few blocks, I could no longer remember.  Still can't remember.

I'm trying to come up with another solo/duet piece (two-person?), plus something for the next clown showcase, which we need to both book and create 45 minutes of material for.  It will probably be in June, but that's still pretty soon.

I should sleep.

Long weekend is over

Had an unusually social Sunday (for me.)  Had been invited to this Finnish folk-music service last week, so went this morning, which turned into coffee with a couple of kantele (Finnish instrument) songs, which then led to a walk around the lake with one of the other choir members.  That was serendipitous, as I'd recently been thinking it might be nice to walk with someone else once in a while.  She also offered her thoughts on my job and school (several friends have recently.)  I was planning on going back to the lake to study Finnish or read a book in the shade somewhere, but came home and while waiting for the laundry, cleaned the living room and part of the kitchen. A little while later, one of my other housemates wanted to show me the kitchen: she'd cleaned the rest of it, getting all the pots and pans that had been sitting there, cleaned and off the counters.  It feels like it's been weeks.  There's something, I don't know, the opposite of tense?, about walking into a kitchen that's clean, a house that's clean.  Perhaps it's that since I was also cleaning, she felt like she could again, because all the responsibility wasn't falling on her to clean up after everyone else.  I know the feeling.

Then she, I and one of the men that lives in the attic with us, all played a type of dominoes on the main floor, waiting for the air upstairs to cool down a bit.  There's been a breeze blowing for a few hours now, but still too hot to sleep.

It's still Sunday

I really don't know what day it is: I just put the garbage out at the curb...it's the wrong day, I thought tomorrow was Tuesday. Day has felt like several different lives. Regretted, since I left the house, that I wasn't carrying a camera, but didn't have time to go back, I was already late. Walked through the sculpture park late in the afternoon, warm sun, warm air; hard shadows; empty chairs waiting for sitting in, the orange matching the surrounding trees; birches with bright shots of yellow amid the green; glowing rust against bright blue sky. Crowds looked out to the western horizon, watching boats and mountains, gulls spinning through the sky. Others climbed the roof of the temporary structure, I did that too, and when I had walked one way and back, walked up to class and after looking and re-checking the clock, realized I was still early, and not ten minutes late. Sat and watched a Croatian band play, enjoying watching the faces around me light up and sing along, words I didn't know; heartfelt memories, I didn't feel. My second day of dropping into someone else's culture.

And I don't think being truthful in the moment and calling what you are getting necessarily needs to be going for the jugglar just to get a reaction. In some ways, that's faking the tension, forcing the moment. At any rate, there is more than one form of tension on stage and in the world, going for the fight is the easy one, the easiest one. Right there at the surface for most of us. I shoulda' called it, called out the behavior, I only questioned the statement, and then bit back. I didn't go for the jugglar, 'cos while I was slightly hurt, for someone that hardly knows me, it can't be about me, even if they think it is: it's about them. You don't know me enough for me to believe it's about me. How's that for abstraction? Still it's true. We all have baggage, it's usually (not always) about that. We read ourselves on someone else instead of really being present with them, really seeing who it is that is in front of us. In polite reality, we stay on the surface, the safe place.  In this room, we have to strip it away. Still sometimes the intimacy of attention can be mistaken for love, or other strong feelings, but is that real outside the room?

Sunday

Finally went to church again, after probably 3 months. Then there was a picnic and I went to that. It rained, but had some good conversations with people. It's funny, when I wasn't going (partially because I couldn't sing anymore and partially because I was tired and not getting up on time) I ran into people I know from there (even though some of them no longer go, but I met them there) all over the place (and it's a relatively small congregation) at a dance concert, at Folklife, walking down the street, and other places...I saw more of them than anyone else I know, and it made me realize how much our lives intersect. I'm Lutheran, for the record, since second grade. Have struggled much (an understatement, a hard won relationship) with what I believe but decided to stay, I still struggle with it. I seriously thought about converting to Catholicism because of some powerful spiritual experiences I had, and because I like the ritual of it, but in the end chose not to because of a very smug (Catholic) encounter followed by a very welcoming stance (and openness and the ability to ask questions and the kindness) from my own church, and so internally, I recommitted to mine. The most I can say about it is that I believe in a loving God, and try to follow the teachings/examples of Christ, not Paul, just the Gospels. (As a woman I have a hard time with Paul. And Christ accepted everybody. He was love in the flesh, which for me seems like a good direction to move toward in life.)

Sunday's attempt at poetry

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