Weird head space

Searching for what to do with "dried green field peas" wondering if they are the same as "pigeon peas," starting to think, no, but related?  Ate pigeon peas as a kid, in rice dishes mostly (Puerto Rican.)  Finally getting the rice dust to flush out of my eye (from airborne dust at a performance, beautiful, that I went to last night.)  Got it there at the standing ovation (dust got to a good height), and then there was another 10 minutes or so of one dancer raking the rice in a circular pattern.  Meditative.  And then back outside into the noise of a building Friday night.  The performance was Cloud Gate Dance Theatre of Taiwan, Songs of the Wanderers.  Originally performed in 1994, a mixture of Buddhist story/eastern and Georgian chant/western, and 90 minutes of falling rice, or maybe 80.  One performer stands unmoving, at the front corner of the stage under a stream of pouring rice the entire time (until the raking part.)  It affected me the same way the throat singers did; I see them as similar, even though one was very active dance and the other musicians sitting in chairs: both spiritual in nature.  This one was a journey to search for enlightenment, which at it's core is universal.  Even if you don't adhere to a religious belief or practice, underneath the striving for the surface stuff, you are searching at some point.  For meaning.  For God.  For depth.  For purpose.  For love.

I went to the talk before the performance, and the speaker spoke briefly about how the choreographer doesn't like to tell you what the show's about, because he likes movement for movement's sake and even in a performance like this one, he wants each audience member to have their own interpretation.  Yes.  But still we have a sense of where this piece came from (kids playing in a sandbox in New York, Georgian chants, Siddhartha, etc.) and some backbone to the story.  I'm re-looking at my thoughts on that (that statement certainly stood out for me, and I'm going to an audience engagement workshop next weekend and they asked a similar question they want us to answer before the conference.)  Again, I don't want it spelled out for me (that also would get in the way of engagement; I wouldn't need to bring my own imagination to the performance), but I do want an entry point.  I want to know how to enter your world.  I want you to want me there to experience it because you created it to share with an audience and not just to perform it for the ticket price without any back and forth of experience or conversation (with my imagination.)  Yeah, you need to get paid, but that can't really be the main reason you choose to do art (also, doesn't pay well, overall, you would make more money doing something else, and probably be happier, if that was the main reason.  So, if you take that off the top, you want to share something with someone.  So, bring them into that.)

Need to get out and take clothes to H&M before the rainstorm's back, and get back into my character.  I was doing some writing as her before the performance last night, and I was starting to get an inkling of where she was coming from.  Can't articulate it yet, and it's a little disturbing to go into that head space.  But I need to have an action before tomorrow.  Have the text down most of the time now, meeting w/scene partner 2x before class, so hoping to flesh something out before class.  In a weird head space, need to get out into the world.  Ciao.

A tough nut to crack

Haven't cracked this character yet.  There's something about sexism and power, and she claims a false power: destroying someone else isn't an authentic power, it's only bringing someone else down to your level of lack.  She finds out in this scene that he doesn't know of her latest accusation to destroy him, but when he gets the phone call and tells him to take it and stays to watch what happens (this happens right after our scene ends.)  And yet continues to make demands.  Also can't tell if she's actually smart and playing dumb in order to entrap him, by writing down everything he says...and he tells her too much, or ?  She got into the school.  At times I feel she's trying to dumb everything down, but she's cagey, with a huge chip on her shoulder, taking every word and action out to the extreme meaning, using it to turn the tables and punish him.  Crying wolf...oh, then there's the very end of the play: maybe she's punishing him for not finding her worthy of seduction.  That's a thought.  We have less than two weeks 'til we present these.

Just had the most ridiculous, fortuitous timing on a work project that had a bunch of moving targets: every part fell into place right as the previous part was ending.  Weird and wonderful.  That was just...wow.  (It seemed like it was too complicated and then just fell into place in a way that couldn't have been planned out: space, painting, movers, meetings, furniture assembly and moving, cleaning...)

Finally home at a decent hour...at least I got to the laundry.  (And first page of dialogue memorized.)

For some reason, just remembered how much I liked the movie "Jesus of Montreal."  I was telling someone they should see it and almost started crying.  The unexpected (in his case, the role) changing your life.

Late home, the ground is wet, the air, ozony

Dirty and exhausted, but in a better mood than when I walked into the studio earlier in the evening.  Nice side effect is that my thigh doesn't have quite the giant knot in it anymore. We have to bring (clown) clothes on Thursday, I just don't know. I have a feeling about my walk, but if I changed it even a bit, it'd be a man, and that might be interesting, too. I need to tone it down, I can't actually see and walk this way, plus I think I'll end up with whiplash. And if I tone it down, that might change the clothes...dilemnas.

I was actually psyched to do my walk. When I was younger, until my mid-twenties, people were always commenting on the way I walked, that it was wrong, stood out in a not-so-good way. My mom says that I didn't learn how to walk until pretty late, and when I did, I walked on my toes (I also spoke in a british accent, who knows where that came from.) I had an aunt that called me twinkle toes, which I think was meant to mock me, and not used as a term of endearment. Anyway, at some point in my twenties, I said "fuck it!" and stopped paying attention, so of course, no one notices, or at least no one comments anymore. A childhood friend had actually told me that if I didn't look down at my feet so much, people may not notice, and you know, she was probably right. But I was shy, so I looked down a lot. (Shrug.) Also, my legs turn out in a permanent second position.

Anyway, I really wanted to blow it up. It was also kinda' fun that I had the limp from the sore quad in one leg. It's pretty ridiculous. George kept trying to get me to laugh, said it was more engaging when I did...how can I laugh continuously and not seem fake? He brought that up when we were "slapping" each other as well, to belly laugh instead of scream...so, I guess that's something I need to look into.

I think I mentioned that the movement class I took in the winter changed the way I walked and changed my center of gravity (which was my initial reason to take it, that and to get out of my head and into my body. My center of gravity was really high before.) I started rolling through my feet, not really sure what I did before, I still have to consciously think about it. Kinda' like the singing class extracted a vibrato I didn't know I had. I can't remember how to get back to it, as I took a long break from singing.

The interview for the 9-month intensive was tonight. Half of the answer is "yes." The ball is in my court. If I do it, I give up having a life for nine more months, but I'll have the tools inside me to move foward for whatever comes next. If I don't do it, I'll still take classes, but not at the same intensity, which I think I need at this stage. I need to figure out the money end of it and the leaving work early once-a-week for nine months. But I love doing this. I love doing this. (I may temporarily hate it on Thursday, but I love doing this.)

I think it's safe for me to let go for real now, and let myself love someone else.

17 hours

Well, made it 17 hours. One of the omelets for the sensory tour turned out, but I don't normally buy ham, and the ham I bought (for a western) is way too sweet, maybe salvageable with tabasco? Next time, only two eggs in the pan at a time, they are actually edible, just a lot of browning. I almost thought about ordering some and picking them up, but since we are also doing the video shoot today and since there are no restaurants near where I am, I just don't have the time. I hope it's good enough. (I suspect there are a few vegetarians in the class. And I considered making some vegetarian, but it wouldn't have been authentic to the world of the play.) Spot and company were going nuts outside the kitchen window the whole time I was cooking. Very loud cawing. Very early. I eventually fed them part of the overcooked omelet. That seemed to please them.

Things won't be any different today. Still need to cut back on how much I'm on these things. Wean myself away, give my heart a break. (What can I say? Emotions ARE irrational, even if I do sound like Mr. Spock.) Actually get some work done. Acts of kindness to myself. (Someone told me they were holding me in their thoughts over the cold, and it seems to mostly be over, which is nice. I had a cough for almost four months after the cold I had at Christmas. That ongoing throat pain seems to feel better today as well. I've kinda' learned to live with it, since I have to pay the old doctor bills before I acquire any new ones.  I haven't sung in a while, but would like to again.)

There were things that were supposed to be covered in previous acting classes, but weren't...so I feel a little behind on the learning curve, however, other parts are making a lot more sense to me, such as how to go about learning lines (which seems obvious now, but I'd never heard to learn them without any emotions attached.) I had heard that every response you make is a response to what your partner gives you, but that is beginning to be more than just words to me. I haven't even started on how she moves, which is part of who she is, but I'm still putting together her past, and there are still blanks, blanks that need to get filled (why'd she drop out of high school? who told her she didn't have what it takes to be an actress? why'd her mother leave? why were they poor?-she grew up during an economic boom.) Am still somewhat unclear on what exactly she wants, I feel she wants to get to know him better, but he keeps rushing the relationship ("I want to marry you") and she's trying to keep away from that conversation...I think wants/needs are supposed to be in the positive, so need to reframe it. Will also attempt to go see Tennessee Williams One Acts soon.

Feeling blah

It's lovely out, finally warming up. It was chilly yesterday, I wasn't wearing enough clothing, didn't feel like standing and waiting for the bus, so walked 40 blocks home. Ended up missing meeting up with a friend. Planning would be good, it's always last minute. Feeling kinda' blah, trying to get rid of headache through drinking water, see if that actually works. I tend to take too many anti-inflammatories, so trying to cut back.  I relate all too well with this character in the play my scene is from. It's interesting, glad the playwright wrote it down.  I do find myself sympathizing too much with my scene partner's character though, but his behavior really would raise red flags.  The water seems to have gotten rid of the headache, a pleasant surprise.

Sometimes, it would be useful to have a cell phone. (Advantages not out-weighing disadvantages, yet. Maybe I'll look at it again, when I get my bills paid off.) A working camera would be good, too. (And new hiking boots (since I seem to be making a list now); blew them out last night.)