Woke up to the sound of a firecracker being shot off in the alley, and a wicked dehydration headache. The heatwave has been back, and I'd forgotten to open my window earlier in the day, so the room (and house) were sweltering. Can't remember what I was dreaming about, but I thought of the "Great Gatsby" (because I finished it on Monday-one of the faster reads, he was a good writer, and it's short) and when I awoke I wondered why, on the day that everything happened, Gatsby says to Nick, about Daisy, that her voice is the sound of money? There is disdain, but he still somehow wants her, or what she represents, even though by the time he says it, his dreams of a life with her are already slipping away to nothing. (Though, I suppose it's the clinging of the desperate to an obsession his whole life had been built in service to.)
Was up writing in the middle of the night. Couldn't sleep. Seismic shifts in my head from a conversation, one line of it really. And you can't change the outcome of something that happened almost three decades ago. But I regret my own lack of self-love or self-worth that caused my own blindness at the time. But there were still things none of us said to each other, things we didn't know about each other, and who knows at the time, what will matter in the end? (And the sudden joy of remembering that someone made his life hard at the time, the joy now not because I wanted him to suffer, but more because she (because anyone) cared enough about me to defend me. That someone thought I was worth defending. And the core group of friends during those two years...I would choose them all again.)
I remember the last time I saw each of two friends from that era, right before I moved to finish college. One instance I've thought about a lot over the years, the other, I'd somehow forgotten. A close friend had come into where I was working (I was waiting tables) and asked me a favor, which I said I'd do, but I never saw him again, because we somehow lost touch. I remember having the impression that he had shrunk, that all the air of his life had been sucked out. I tried to hug him, but he pulled away. The other set of eyes disapproving, which I get, a new phase of life and all...to you, I hope you got yourself back.
To me, I've lived my life way too cautiously, worrying about the wrong things.
Showing posts with label connection. Show all posts
Showing posts with label connection. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 30, 2017
Sunday, June 22, 2014
Rambling (again) on Sunday
Mutual support and the ability to have a conversation where both people get heard...is that too much to want? Not very common. I do have it with some people, I appreciate them more and more everyday. I went to this one-act play festival (?) the other night, the first one had to do with everyone so into having an online life, that they didn't actually have a real one. Amusing and exaggerated, but not by that much. Who exactly are we trying to connect to, and what would happen if that connection became real, as in standing in front of us? Would we reject it? Is it a game? Is it wanting to feel like we matter somewhere (else, not where we are, not with who is in front of us)? I'm not immune, I am writing this.
I messed up a tendon in the back of my foot, inside, below the ankle. Can't figure out how to stretch it, would like to avoid snapping it. It doesn't "hurt" per se, but it feels like it needs to pop, and is uncomfortable.
One thing I do disagree with Mamet on, is he makes a statement about maybe the best way to encounter a play is to read it yourself (but then why would he choose to write a play as opposed to a short story or a novel? Something in him wants it performed.) Other people would say to toss out the first couple of readings. I find that doing character work, background work, improv, etc, while it can be intellectual, helps to find a deeper meaning in the text. Take "Riches," the play I just did work from, when we performed it on Tuesday, I think we got a lot deeper into it, and it was more meaningful to the audience, and I don't think we could've gotten there without character work, without finding deeper meaning in the text. I mean if you didn't need to do that work, you wouldn't need directors, you could just stand there and read it. When we first started working on it, it was a lot of surface meaning, there was humor and sarcasm...but it wasn't particularly meaningful. Ho hum, some middle-aged couple having an argument, so what? Why would anyone want to see a play about that? The audience connects with the work when they feel the human struggle, when they can see themselves in it. And the few reviews I could find of performances criticized Carolyn for being petty, and I don't think she is, but it can come across that way when you just read it. When she finally is able to ask for what she needs, she asks him to save her, "I need a great big kiss that says honey, I will do whatever it takes to keep you alive, including break up this marriage." (Lee Blessing, Riches.) That's not petty, that's human pain.
And it was the same with "Oleanna," as I've mentioned before, when I first read it, I sided with John. And perhaps that's what Mamet wanted, and that's the way the movie version played out. Carol was an unsympathetic character, you felt like she deserved what she got. But as I've mentioned before, when you start looking at the power structure, the privilege, she becomes the "hero," as much as there is one in this story. He's written like a victim on the surface, but all the rules have been in his favor his whole life, he gives some sob story, but he has no idea what everyone outside that structure, whom were not considered when the rules were written, struggle with everyday, just to: get work, get an education, get housing, get fair compensation, vote, not feel like you always have to have your guard up when you walk outside, etc (grow a thicker skin? Please, that's a temporary fix at best, allowing those who discriminate to get off without self-examination or empathy.) And you don't necessarily pick up on that when you read it. It took a lot for me to like her, but I did in the end, you have to at some level, empathize. And I had to look at myself and figure out why my sympathy immediately flowed in his direction. How much have I resigned myself to the way things stand, even as it doesn't really work in my favor, or for the majority now? The rules favor the very few and we justify it, saying they've somehow earned it, and the rest of us aren't playing the game right...we never will. It wasn't made for us.
Still, he writes great plays, and a lot of what he says in the essays ring true. He studied with Meisner for a while and then rejected it, I think. There's some healthiness in that, you take what you learn and make it work for you, keeping your own autonomy and not giving all your power to some guru. I don't think Meisner meant to be a guru, all the good teachers continually revise, there wasn't an ultimate teaching that would be the answer to end all answers. The work is fluid, and you take from it what you need, and what helps you to do more truthfully on stage, or in life.
He (Meisner) has kinda' ruined me. I watch performers all the time now for connection and truth...it's very distracting. Not saying I'm better, I'm sure if I saw a my own performance, I'd notice the same things. But I like it when they are so in the moment I get lost in them...it happens a lot. That's the holy grail.
I should go plant something.
I messed up a tendon in the back of my foot, inside, below the ankle. Can't figure out how to stretch it, would like to avoid snapping it. It doesn't "hurt" per se, but it feels like it needs to pop, and is uncomfortable.
One thing I do disagree with Mamet on, is he makes a statement about maybe the best way to encounter a play is to read it yourself (but then why would he choose to write a play as opposed to a short story or a novel? Something in him wants it performed.) Other people would say to toss out the first couple of readings. I find that doing character work, background work, improv, etc, while it can be intellectual, helps to find a deeper meaning in the text. Take "Riches," the play I just did work from, when we performed it on Tuesday, I think we got a lot deeper into it, and it was more meaningful to the audience, and I don't think we could've gotten there without character work, without finding deeper meaning in the text. I mean if you didn't need to do that work, you wouldn't need directors, you could just stand there and read it. When we first started working on it, it was a lot of surface meaning, there was humor and sarcasm...but it wasn't particularly meaningful. Ho hum, some middle-aged couple having an argument, so what? Why would anyone want to see a play about that? The audience connects with the work when they feel the human struggle, when they can see themselves in it. And the few reviews I could find of performances criticized Carolyn for being petty, and I don't think she is, but it can come across that way when you just read it. When she finally is able to ask for what she needs, she asks him to save her, "I need a great big kiss that says honey, I will do whatever it takes to keep you alive, including break up this marriage." (Lee Blessing, Riches.) That's not petty, that's human pain.
And it was the same with "Oleanna," as I've mentioned before, when I first read it, I sided with John. And perhaps that's what Mamet wanted, and that's the way the movie version played out. Carol was an unsympathetic character, you felt like she deserved what she got. But as I've mentioned before, when you start looking at the power structure, the privilege, she becomes the "hero," as much as there is one in this story. He's written like a victim on the surface, but all the rules have been in his favor his whole life, he gives some sob story, but he has no idea what everyone outside that structure, whom were not considered when the rules were written, struggle with everyday, just to: get work, get an education, get housing, get fair compensation, vote, not feel like you always have to have your guard up when you walk outside, etc (grow a thicker skin? Please, that's a temporary fix at best, allowing those who discriminate to get off without self-examination or empathy.) And you don't necessarily pick up on that when you read it. It took a lot for me to like her, but I did in the end, you have to at some level, empathize. And I had to look at myself and figure out why my sympathy immediately flowed in his direction. How much have I resigned myself to the way things stand, even as it doesn't really work in my favor, or for the majority now? The rules favor the very few and we justify it, saying they've somehow earned it, and the rest of us aren't playing the game right...we never will. It wasn't made for us.
Still, he writes great plays, and a lot of what he says in the essays ring true. He studied with Meisner for a while and then rejected it, I think. There's some healthiness in that, you take what you learn and make it work for you, keeping your own autonomy and not giving all your power to some guru. I don't think Meisner meant to be a guru, all the good teachers continually revise, there wasn't an ultimate teaching that would be the answer to end all answers. The work is fluid, and you take from it what you need, and what helps you to do more truthfully on stage, or in life.
He (Meisner) has kinda' ruined me. I watch performers all the time now for connection and truth...it's very distracting. Not saying I'm better, I'm sure if I saw a my own performance, I'd notice the same things. But I like it when they are so in the moment I get lost in them...it happens a lot. That's the holy grail.
I should go plant something.
Friday, August 9, 2013
Friday night, an act of habit in trying to find something to say
Went to one of the free shows tonight, ate dinner with friends there. It was warm, the falling light was a warm pinkish glow, the music was good, and there was a big, happy mass of humanity. Later there was an art show projected onto the fountain, but it wasn't quite dark enough for it when we were leaving. It'll play one more time. (It reminds me of when I was a kid and we'd go camping in the North Cascades and drive to Newhalem at dusk to walk the trails and look at the "colorful waterfalls," as we called them. They had pointed colored lights on the trails and the waterfalls. I still stop there if I'm in the vicinity. It's where the North Cascade Highway closes for the winter; on the west side.) I like how many people play in the fountain, getting soaked or just sit around on the edge and watch it, while music plays. They were letting the water blast out like a cannon in random sequence. It all makes me happy. Summers are why people live here. (January and February are gloomy, dark and rough, unless you ski and there's snow.)
Right now I'm finding it easier to connect without words, but need to integrate all this movement and clown stuff with someone else's words and directions and make it real for me. It'll be easier off book. Maybe it would help if I figured out what the story arc is without the words. I don't think we will work our scene tomorrow, but I should be ready anyway. We need to run it more, we have more blocking than most of the other scenes.
Meeting with a bunch of clowns on Sunday, but not sure what we are doing. We want to try to keep the momentum going. Something was definitely starting to happen, and you have to keep working, practicing. I've fallen off a lot of the Movement stuff, there are a few things I do most of the time, but I'm not practicing much of the balancing exercises anymore. I make excuses because I'm tired or my hand hurts, but those were true before and I practiced then anyway. I've fallen off almost all of the voice stuff, mostly because the ENT doc told me not to do anything. I'll try to remember this fall, or take the class again. I'm slightly braver.
Watching doors shut, slightly demoralized, but they weren't the right ones. They need to shut. In the book Art and Fear they comment on the idea that if you chase two rabbits, you catch neither. I don't even want to chase rabbits. I can't endlessly keep my options open, at some point I have to decide and act on that. Let it fail if it will, but if you never enter the battle, you might always be safe, but you never get to know what it is to win outright. I need to let myself win, or go down fightin'.
Right now I'm finding it easier to connect without words, but need to integrate all this movement and clown stuff with someone else's words and directions and make it real for me. It'll be easier off book. Maybe it would help if I figured out what the story arc is without the words. I don't think we will work our scene tomorrow, but I should be ready anyway. We need to run it more, we have more blocking than most of the other scenes.
Meeting with a bunch of clowns on Sunday, but not sure what we are doing. We want to try to keep the momentum going. Something was definitely starting to happen, and you have to keep working, practicing. I've fallen off a lot of the Movement stuff, there are a few things I do most of the time, but I'm not practicing much of the balancing exercises anymore. I make excuses because I'm tired or my hand hurts, but those were true before and I practiced then anyway. I've fallen off almost all of the voice stuff, mostly because the ENT doc told me not to do anything. I'll try to remember this fall, or take the class again. I'm slightly braver.
Watching doors shut, slightly demoralized, but they weren't the right ones. They need to shut. In the book Art and Fear they comment on the idea that if you chase two rabbits, you catch neither. I don't even want to chase rabbits. I can't endlessly keep my options open, at some point I have to decide and act on that. Let it fail if it will, but if you never enter the battle, you might always be safe, but you never get to know what it is to win outright. I need to let myself win, or go down fightin'.
Monday, July 8, 2013
Monday early-ish
So much social media writing throwing out missives hoping to be read or seen. Hoping if someone sees it, "likes" it, reads it, acknowledges it, then we have some validation. We have acknowledgment that we exist, either in general or from someone we imagine we are writing for. Hoping we are not alone in our way of thinking, acting. Hoping that whether we are or not (alone), we can still be understood, accepted. Perhaps not wanting to be the only one that knows what we know. (Not always, sometimes it's reporting on an event that needs to be known, but a lot of the time we want to be known. This isn't meant as a criticism, just as a compassionate acknowledgment. I don't think it's bad.) Great love to all of us, sending out our human feelers, trying to connect.
Still no birds singing the sun awake, though I did eventually hear a baby crow ask for food, probably from across the street. Gonna go cook something now. (For me, not for the crow, though there's always a chance it will be fed by me.)
I am still trying to let go of that one, but now I keep seeing men that look like him. I still think he's more beautiful than they are.
Happy Monday.
The one baby was SO loud! Crying and crying (lustily?) for one of the others to feed it. I was both laughing and cringing, it probably woke the whole neighborhood up, or at least my household. And then it hopped up on the neighbor's roof and stuck it's head in a pipe, don't think it cawed into that. Can you imagine waking up to that if it did?
Still no birds singing the sun awake, though I did eventually hear a baby crow ask for food, probably from across the street. Gonna go cook something now. (For me, not for the crow, though there's always a chance it will be fed by me.)
I am still trying to let go of that one, but now I keep seeing men that look like him. I still think he's more beautiful than they are.
Happy Monday.
The one baby was SO loud! Crying and crying (lustily?) for one of the others to feed it. I was both laughing and cringing, it probably woke the whole neighborhood up, or at least my household. And then it hopped up on the neighbor's roof and stuck it's head in a pipe, don't think it cawed into that. Can you imagine waking up to that if it did?
Thursday, April 18, 2013
Addendum
I love the moment where you connect with art, where everything aligns between the artist(s) and the audience and it gets under your skin and stays with you and transforms you. I hope to someday, at some point be a part of creating a moment like that.
On a related note, I'm excited about this class, it's already beyond what I knew I was looking for. I'm also incredibly exhausted so: Good night.
On a related note, I'm excited about this class, it's already beyond what I knew I was looking for. I'm also incredibly exhausted so: Good night.
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