Tuesday and decisions

The show was fun, in the end (Maggie Lee Showcase at the Pocket Theatre, part of Fringe Month.)  Not much of a house, at least as many performers as paying audience members, but I enjoyed watching everyone else.  I think there were four short plays and seven monologues, broken up into three sets.  I was in the last group.  Was so nervous before I had to go up, thought I'd forget everything, rush through, skip lines, freeze, shake, etc., but in the end, though I think I said a couple of wrong words ("fall" instead of "drop," etc.), it went alright.  People laughed a lot, it was probably the lightest of the monologues.  I think I'll keep it for auditioning, but I'd really like to work on it with a director.  I had toyed with the idea of looking at different audience members, but then nixed that after feedback from my scene class, but as it turned out, couldn't see anyway (because of the lights), so hopefully didn't let my eyes wander too much, an ongoing issue, though it's getting better.

The Chekhov scene is difficult, it's the opening scene of "The Cherry Orchard."  Why I say that is because the section we have, doesn't seem to have a "turn" in it (i.e., the characters do not change from the beginning to the end); and also, they aren't listening to each other, for the most part, they are just talking.  Will need to bring a strong action.  There is, however, plenty of humor in it, and the Lopakhin speech is loaded, pretty much sets up all the class changes of the era: the end of the gentry, and a rising up of a middle class.  I think of an innate desire to more than survive that drives people to do what it takes to thrive (or at least not go backward); you see this a lot in Jane Austen's stories (among others) and we tend to view those women as villains, but in the situation they've found themselves, they are working with what they have to get ahead (marriage), i.e, Lucy Steele, Isabella Thorpe, etc.  I see that in Dunyasha, and later in the play she bemoans that she can't go back to being a servant (she is a servant, and of the servant class, but has been pretending to be gentry, and getting away with it), and she has an offer of marriage, but it's less than what she wants, not who she wants, though she is keeping it as an option.  (Society is the villain; perhaps if social structure and laws governing rights were different, these women would still be villains, but they get a pass, from me.  Dickens, writing later, has real individual villains: the abusive headmasters, the Murdstones, Uriah Heep, etc., in addition to society playing that role.)

Have to decide if I'm gonna continue on in this group.  I'd like to, I find it immensely helpful: to be working on scenes, to get feedback, to be able to practice monologues for people, etc...just have to figure out the money situation, where I can cut expenses elsewhere.  I probably can, but it's pretty tight.  It's priority, right?  If I keep making the same choices, day after day, nothing will change, at least not something that I have agency in, toward my own good, my own future.  Outside, things I have little control over are constantly changing, but I'd like to act, and not just constantly wipe myself out by jumping here and there to react to changing circumstances, and never proceed in the general direction of where I say I want to end up.  Even if it's a little bit of progress, to move forward, and to see the destination ahead.

And I'm still trying to decide how I can take a vacation, in my head, sometimes I've already left.  It'll have been 5 years, but I still feel like a privileged ass sometimes for mentioning it, and yet, I can also feel myself festering for lack of travel.  I'll make it happen.

Back to earth, three hours into the workday, I realized I was wearing my shirt, backward, and inside-out.  It's fixed now.

And my friend is leaving town, moving to Philly, too expensive to be here.  Saw him last Friday for the last time, though, it's true we'd fallen out of touch, and so I appreciate his effort to say goodbye.  One friend I could talk about almost anything with (our conversations went everywhere, has been that way since we met, 17 years ago he reminded me, how is that possible?) and always feel safe there, could always be myself.  I find that's not the standard acceptable behavior.  He's spoiled me to everyone else.

Monday and it is not snowing here

Sunday.  Guess I should at least get up and go get coffee.  I need to go pay a bill, and am trying to decide where to do that.  The Weather Underground lists a snow alert between 3:15-4:15 pm today.  Rain in nine minutes.  (Actually, it started snowing around 1 pm, didn't stick.) Walked halfway around the lake, caught a bus Downtown to pay a bill, caught same bus back to original stop and resumed walking.  Promptly (and inexplicably) slipped on an icy sidewalk.  It had been above freezing all day, and there was no ice around it (and it was not visible in any way.)  Woman in front of me slipped as well, but I didn't actually see it.  She mentioned it after I slipped.

 I went out for a walk just before 9 am yesterday, and returned home from it as the sun was setting.  Took a detour to the zoo.  It was sunny and cold, so just not overly motivated to be cold again.
Also, have been inspired to begin "Don Quixote" at last, and have started it.  I like it, but I get all emotional about the idea, something about Spain, I guess.  The first time I went to Spain, it was the 400th anniversary of "Don Quixote," and there were public readings of it all over the place - billboards, tv, etc.  (Still reading Shakespeare, a variety of other books, finishing "David Copperfield," and writing.)  Pretty much all I did over the break was walk, and a little bit of cooking.  Never did sort through anything.  I find I have an amazing ability to do absolutely nothing at all.

And one new thing is Shakespeare; finally taking a class.  (And I'm day 4, no sugar - also, no alcohol, but not much temptation there.  I might drop wheat and dairy after my birthday.  I bought cheese on New Year's Eve, and I need to finish it.)  And still waiting to see if my application was received for the film class, always possible I sent it to the wrong address.

I'm out of practice.  I need a monologue.  Hit the ground running.

Wednesday

My one free evening this week, will rehearse.  Sometimes I feel like part of my brain was raptured and the rest of me returns to the scene of departure and wonders what I was doing and why I stopped in the middle of the process and wandered off.  Overloaded.

Wish I had the time and money to take another class along with this one, to complement the process.  I think I need to start getting up and doing physical theatre stuff when I wake up early, I'm too much in my head again and the reason I'm even doing this now is because of the physical work (both in biomechanics and singing) I did last winter that woke up the idea in me it's possible to find all the stuff I hadn't been able to access through my thoughts, in my body.  Even if I just start with fifteen minutes that's something.  I'm feeling so much resistance, and my center of gravity is creeping up.  It'll help.  (It's easier being responsible to someone, but I'll have to find some strong inner motivation to overcome my inherent inertia.)

I was reading Esper on the bus this morning and one of the exercises had me in tears, I was sitting in one of those side-facing seats, kept having to wipe my cheek, but kept reading.  Then I was trying to think about what I lost (for the scene) and that made me teary, will see if I can actually pull that into the rehearsal process.  Esper says something interesting about objectives, that it's like knowing where you are going, and you have that knowledge to guide you, but you don't need to keep thinking about it.  We haven't actually gotten to objectives yet, perhaps I should stop reading further.  Maybe I should buy it.

The freezing nights bring starry skies, fluffy birds, sparkly mornings.

Thursday

I was thinking this morning how the debriefing sessions remind me of Stanislavski's "An Actor Prepares," with his questions to his teacher. There's a newer version of it out now, because his teaching evolved over time, and what was being taught in the west no longer matched his teaching, and the newer translation is closer to his later philosophy (I think he went back to include the physical work.) I'll have to check it out again, I've always had a hard time getting through it, because I want to get to the practice itself...last time I skipped to the exercises in the back, and I think I want to revisit those since I now have people to work through them with. I think it lives at my local library branch.

Maybe some truths are momentary, but make such a strong impression that they guide our actions for years to follow, even long after their moment has passed. Maybe we need to revisit them and decide if they are true now, instead of following them without question in perpetuity.

Took another stab at the text for class. It's a little better in the middle. He talks about breath, about getting into a meditative state so that there is flow. And how in that state, your art and you become one and the same (I think, I get lost sometimes.) And how it's important to have mastered both the art and the process of getting to that state, so that you are ready for the inspiration when it comes and don't need to think about it. (He also mentions how difficult it is to stay in that state. How thoughts of completely unrelated things invade it and try to distract you.)  I always feel like I'm going to hyperventilate when I concentrate on breathing, and my nose gets sore: I have a lot of sinus issues. Obviously, something to work on. There is a definite appeal of getting to the point of flow and not over thinking everything; to get there, I need to do the work to the point that I don't need to think about it anymore. That's the point of studying, I suppose. The meditation is a practice to master outside of class, in hopes that in the future the two things will mesh, the responses will be in the moment and real. Sounds like it should be easy to do:) though it's not for me.

Sunday-for the practice of it

It took an hour-and-a-half to get home this afternoon. It took half-an-hour to get from Seattle Center to Downtown (should be about ten minutes), partially it was Hempfest traffic, and partially it was lots of confused people who weren't sure if they wanted to get on the bus, didn't know how to pay for bus, and were confused about transfers. The bus driver was in a good mood though. Mostly I wanted to get home because I wanted to change my clothes; my t-shirt smelt like fried squid (I know because I'm the one that cooked it) but I hadn't realized it when I grabbed it, and the rest of my outfit was partial clown. The bathrooms were being cleaned, there wasn't anywhere to change...it's kinda' cute, except the tights. When I got home the entire house smelt like old, fried fish. No gain there. It's been three weeks since class ended, felt really out of practice. I think we should meet more than once-a-month, (today was for something else) but it's hard to get the on-going committment: I know people are busy, have other priorities. It is fun though. Acting, too. In both you get to do things, express things, explore parts of yourself, or parts that have nothing to do with you...all things you generally don't get to do in everyday life. It feels so good to shout and to laugh like a maniac; to not hold my tongue, but not actually hurt someone, because it's not real. And there's joy in being a fool. (And there's that external permission I still need...and I'm still receiving it, from teachers, directors, and fellow travellers...I need a lot right now, I've been pretty out of my comfort zone all summer.)

Wow, it's almost 8 pm. Got a lot I still need to get done today, first being to find clothes that still smell clean.

Finding the will to fail

A musician I met on a train once suggested I read "Art and Fear" and it just came up again, so I'll keep looking in the used bookstores, or perhaps the library.  I made something for a bake sale later today and missed going to church, so am reading "Drops Like Stars" by Rob Bell.  He talks about suffering (here it is again, kinda' what I was talking about in the post I think I ended up deleting) and how that bonds us and is the means for growth. I still maintain that we can grow from deep joyful experiences as well. (I'm kinda' tired of suffering.) But he also talks about perfection vs. failure. Which is kinda' my problem, I often feel like things have to be perfect (like being born fully formed out of the head of Zeus) and it paralyzes me into inaction. Where what would be the more useful, productive course would be to try and fail, and yet I am terrified of failing, so I make excuses not to start (exception being cooking). I think I was already timid, and then so beat down when I was wrong when I was younger that I became afraid of trying. And I know I'm not that person anymore. And I know I can have encouragement if I ask for it, or seek out experiences where the other people are secure enough in themselves to offer it to others without feeling threatened by someone else's success. And I'm grateful for "teachers" that have come into my life and said basically, "Yeah, make a fool of yourself. Overdo it. Fail. It's okay. It's how you learn." I digress. The idea is that by trying and failing and then using the failure as an opportunity to grow, even if only in small increments, progress, growth occurs. Whereas if you think you need to be perfect from the get-go (and there is this pervasive myth and focus on that out in the background noise of the world) you don't learn anything.  How can you be perfect at something you have never done before (unless it's beginner's luck?) We really can't be. We see the bright moments (of others), but we rarely glimpse the hours of practice behind them, the sacrifices made to achieve them.  It's better just to start.  And make steps everyday, even if only centimeters forward.  Practice is committment.