One more down

Hmm.  Went from swooning over the way someone speaks, right into a lively discussion of pig intestines: afternoon mind travels quite serpentine.  (The trials of ordering food when you do not understand the language.  Or in the intestinal case, eating whatever happened to be served.  I'm not sure how talk of comedic plays got to pig parts though.  Some discussion of ramen, as well, in the middle.)

Waiting for the bus home, a long wait as there were service cuts for the quarter break, I noticed how much my breath hung in the air, as if the air itself were greedy for moisture: it lingered, drifted slowly back over me.  Barely had time to change before my ride to our last concert (Finnish) arrived, fog rolling in.  By the time we finished singing, you could barely see a block, so thick the fog.  Our last concert for the year, the other choir is singing three more times.  (Traffic was light, and we were early to the venue, which was good, gave me time to fix my shirt, I put it on inside-out: this dress is beautiful and it fits well, but definitely not a quick change kinda outfit.  A bit complicated to wear.)  Will see how long I can keep all of this up, I like it, but I suspect outside Meisner rehearsals might be increasing, and I can't do all of it.  At any rate, we sounded good tonight, what I could hear, and the people we sang for were appreciative.

When I could see the moon, it looked almost full (mysterious, shrouded in wispy clouds before the fog came between us)...is it?  I'll blame that and caffeine on my earlier gushiness of the day.  Or all the Meisner work.  I can't help it, I believe in the work.  If I came across as a fool, well then, I suppose that gives me leeway to continue to do so.  (Earlier facebook post regarding something I liked.  No, loved.)

Need to muster up the energy to change.  The dress, it's getting itchy.

Saturday

Woke up feeling like I'd been hit by a truck.  It's not the flu, did something I eat get contaminated with potatoes?  Did I do something I don't remember?  I hope so.  I don't want this to be a permanent change (it always could be.)  I have to get up to go buy cranberries to make sauce for the Finnish Christmas party/concert later today.  And I don't feel like moving.

Running out of that to try to get to the Theatre Anonymous show of "It's a Wonderful Life."  No, I'm not in it.  It's the one I'd wanted to audition for (you were to send in a resume/headshot and no one would know who was in the show except the director, you'd meet one-on-one with the director and then on the night of the show, tonight, you sit in the audience and say your first line from there and then go up on stage.  I didn't have a headshot, and I really shoulda' just had someone take a picture...oh, well.)  Anyway, I'm hoping they hold my ticket, I won't even be in the neighborhood until 10 minutes before the show starts, probably still wearing my Finnish dress.  Apparently, I know someone in the show, someone from the school I take classes at (because they are the only people who have that email address.)  There are at least three versions of "It's a Wonderful Life" going on this weekend, this one, one at Town Hall, and an improv version in the U-District.  I'm excited to see the show, and curious to see who I know in it, I think I know, but I could be wrong.

Went to an art installation last night, it was in a shell of a building in Belltown, that felt like a warehouse, dark and cold.  I thought I'd check it out for half hour but ended up wandering around for two.  It was called "hydrOsphere" by interstitial theatre, was loosely based around the theme of water.  I think there were thirteen installations.  My favorite two were Vrstva (Amy Popova and Rashelle McKee) a live movement/dance piece, where they moved very slowly in response to each other and throughout the space; and Sandbox of Life (Casey Scalf, Sensebellum) which involved a sandbox of white sand and a camera/computer/feedback/light above it creating these moving light patterns, that kinda' reminded be of a virus.  If you blocked the light by waving your hand over the sand, the light pattern would repopulate the bare sand in a crawling kinda' way.  It was fun to play with, and I like the repurposing of technology (it used a Microsoft Kinect.)

There was also this sound installation called "Space weather listening booth" by Nat Evans and John Teske.  It was down a staircase lit only by tea lights in a dark parking garage.   A voice in my head said, "No! Don't go down into the dark parking garage!"  But I didn't listen to it. There were some tea lights on the floor there as well, and a carpet with pillows.  It took a while for my eyes to adjust, but I realized no one was lurking in the dark corners (it's not a haunted house, afterall).  Several people came in after me, I think someone laid down on the carpet, but it was hard to tell.  I like the idea of it.  I want to work more with sound installations.  The building was really cold, I think it was actually warmer outside.  I can't imagine how cold it was last week in there.  Was gonna try to get to an opening in Greenwood, but just wandered around Westlake for a while, singing along to the piped in Christmas carols (Feliz Navidad, and the Mariah Carey song.)  On the way home, the man sitting next to me kept falling asleep on my shoulder.  I don't mind that much, but he was really heavy. (I think the woman on his other side was leaning on him as well, so I was probably feeling the weight of both.)

Maybe hot water would help.  I was gonna post a picture but all of the editing programs keep crashing.  Happy Saturday morning!

Early evening

Is the week over? Oh, well. Actually, ended up getting to concert early because I managed to catch an earlier bus to Bellevue. I lived there for two years, over 20 years ago. Places sound familiar, but I don't recognize anything, except the major landmarks that haven't changed. I had a car then, too. I drove a lot, knew my way around. It's pretty: very verdant, lots of trees. I thought about how many more options you have for places to live when you have a car.

The songs went okay. We had the accompanist today.  I told him later about how I feel his playing elevates the music and how I sometimes listen to the CD from Finland to hear he and the accordian player together. Finally put my money where my mouth is, even if it is gushy. He was gracious. Besides it's all true, I enjoy listening to him play. Had to run off, right after that. Managed to figure out where the bus stop was, it was pretty fast. Made it to rehearsal on time. We barely got through our scene once in that hour. At least we talked about transitions and were in agreement about things. I had my lines down more or less, but that was my worse run-through. I just am not connecting what I want with the words, and it's like I'm just reading them, and not in a particularly interesting or believable way. This is why I'm taking acting classes. I hope I improve before the show. It's bad.

I finally committed to a monologue. Now I'm cutting it. I tried to time it using a clock with a second hand. I think it's two minutes, three minutes wouldn't make sense. My nose is stuffed and so I read this bad, too. I'm not a good cold reader, thankfully, I don't think we will have to do that for the audition. I'm crossing my fingers. It's weird, I can cold read poetry ususally, but not text. I want to include an emotional transition. I need to do it for the play, so it will be good practice. I think I know where I need to start that now. We were playing the ending pretty subdued and then I was suddenly supposed to exit excited, but it needs to start earlier, it doesn't make sense to just suddenly be there. It needs to build. I'm liberated a page or so earlier and it needs transition from there. Also, the director told me I need to soften my face, but I don't think my face softens. I even tried thinking of cute babies and puppies while watching my face in the mirror...all I can think to do is to hold my face more tense earlier and then let it go "normal."

On the bus coming home, the air-conditioning was blasting, and my stomach felt like a fist because I hadn't eaten all day, and all I could think about was that I wanted to get off of the bus. We got stuck in traffic because a wire on one of the bridges had to be repaired. I almost got off and walked, but I was carrying my bag of winter clothes, my book of music, my performance clothes and shoes, and a full bottle of water. It was cumbersome. It would have been a long walk. I just put on a long-john shirt even though it was almost 80 degrees outside. I still have it on. And when I finally ate, I ate too much, too fast. Now I just want to nap. More work on this monologue first. Sorry, I lied about one post per day. (Everytime I audibly sigh, on purpose, I hear George laughing in my head, in a high-pitched, nervous, maniacal way.)

Saturday

The robin outside my window is singing it's morning song, must sing for rain, too: it's now just past noon. Have returned from the manure-moving work party, and now need to get ready for the last Finnish concert until late summer. Last with our director, as well. It's a spring party, Vappu Hippa, so happy and sad occasion. After today, I really need to get my throat healed, still hurts, even though the coughing has subsided considerably in the past couple of weeks. It feels a lot like when you need to cry and all the tension builds up in your throat, but you can't cry, for whatever reason. It doesn't help if I cry, but that's how it feels.

Oh, no. My sweater is not with the rest of my outfit (for the concert.) I hope I can find it! I don't remember seeing it since Finland.  Oh, good, just in the bottom of my closet, wrinkled, but existing in this city.

Well, that's over for now.  I was gonna go out tonight, but I stayed late to help clean the hall (since we were renting it) and I need to do laundry and catch up on my finnish homework anyway. Someone told me he liked my singing, which was nice to hear. I then came home and told my housemate that I appreciated him (because he takes responsibility, so I don't have to.) I think I embarrassed him, but, I rarely say it, and I think I should more often.  I was listening to our Finland CD earlier, and then someone played a slide-show of pictures from the trip at the party today, it made me a little sad not to be going back this summer. The tour was an "all stars aligning" moment in time, se oli ihanaa. I'm grateful that it happened at all, more so that I was able to be a part of it. It'll be good to be here, too.  Can't happen again, but new things will.

One down, one to go

I can hear tires on wet pavement, though I haven't bothered to look. Have to leave for rehearsal shortly. Have the massive Scandinavian choral concert at 3 pm, but our call is 1:30 pm. After today, one more rehearsal and one more concert next weekend and that commitment is done until late summer. I love going. I love being part of it, but I need a break, I've taken on too much lately.

Later. Concert was fun. We sat on the side facing the giant windows. I watched the weather change, sunbreaks to dark ominous clouds crossing the hill. The wind blew thru the newly leafed big-leaf maple tree. The branches contracted and constricted together like a lung, like breath. The Norwegian women's choral music had a mysterious quality, it reminded me of old film scores, like old Disney or the Wizard of Oz. In the mass choir's last song (we sang four songs together, then individual choirs, then three more songs together) we got lost at the beginning, eventually recovered, but it didn't quite go like it was rehearsed.  Later, at the bar, someone told the bartender that I was someone they could learn to like. This was based on my choice of beer. If only life were that simple.  Gonna try to make a dinner party now.

Peace

Maybe it really is that simple.

Back to zero

to an even keel, the place music I like takes me (always.) I've thrown the idea of "back to zero" around for a while, and tonight I decided it meant being present, so not worrying about anything, or thinking about anything except where I am right now.  And the Billy Bragg show was awesome.  He's funny, a great musician, and he gives a damn. And with both he and  the opening act, especially the opening act, who was a solo act, I thought about the need to sing. The drive to make music, the compulsion of having to sing. That it doesn't even matter what your voice sounds like (and his voice is fine) but more the need to communicate something in song. It's so beautiful. And the other reason I feel at zero, is that if I can love one person, I can also love someone else (I might not want to, but it can be done.) And now as it's late and I'm inexplicably super cold, I'm going to bed...no late night ramblings.

Morning

It smells so clean outside. The air thick with clouds, golden-white light from the sunrise breaking through, and now the sun. The air near the entryway insists on smelling like roses even though there aren't any there. I'm thinking about the rambling post, might put it back up.  It's something I think about quite a bit but because I wrote it in the middle of the night, it got a bit convoluted. Also, I've (obviously) been unfiltered since no one had been reading this.

Here's another older Billy Bragg song, from Workers Playtime, She's Got a New Spell:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w39CusifulI