Where things are

We are having a heatwave.  The attic is sweltering.  I've got 1/6 of my garden planted, I was going to do more today, but I have to figure out where to put all the trailing plants (squash, melon, cucumber...in the garden, my optimism remains intact), and decide if I want to grow anything else.  I started some seeds a few weeks back, but I didn't have anything to mark them with, so, I'll need to look up the leaves to see what's what (and at the seed packets to remember what I even planted.)

Hung out with some former Meisner classmates last night.  It was good, had some real conversations, people asked how I was, and I think they really meant it.  Anyway, late in the evening, I was laughing so hard I was crying (I had accidently rubbed sunscreen into my eyes, so that added to the watering).  I don't remember the last time I've laughed that hard...I don't remember the last time I really laughed much.  I haven't felt consistantly good in a long time, more a series of highs and lows, with short stints of an even keel (defined here as "good")...I like the even keel.  I want more of it.  I've been describing myself as "like an addict."  And it's not fulfilling for me.  I can't go on like this.  But how do I let go of something that doesn't exist?  Month after month without clarity. (And what was ever in it for him?)  At any rate, I need to take care of myself.  I haven't been.  I've been holding my breath, waiting for something external to be solid.  Maybe nothing ever is.

I have learned some things about myself, I've grown a lot and I'm grateful for that.  If anything, I've learned to appreciate myself more.  Love myself more.  (And I do love him, but that's not enough) and I am tired of being sad.  Tired of feeling invisible. Tired of aching, the lack of connection, the withholding, the feeling like a "duty."  (Feeling like time spent with me was something checked off a list because you had to.  Why then?  Asking me to be there, then pushing me away when I get there.  Saying you enjoy time with me, but acting as if you can't wait for me to leave.  Checking your phone, for the better offer that negates our time.)  Tired of thinking things will get better, of believing in "promises" (statements of intent?) and being disappointed in that when I trust in what was said, and it's suddenly pulled away (and that is my own fault, I know, but where are we without trust in what we say to one another?  How can you build any type of relationship without that basic grounding of trust?  Words are just sounds if they aren't true after you speak them.  Or  write them.  Without trust we're all adrift with every whim, without any direction or anchor.)  Tired of being last.  Tired of scraps (and how willingly I grab at them because something is better than nothing.  So also tired of my own lack of healthy boundaries.  Hearing about how good you've been to other people.  Other people are worth the good, and I get the bad because you've been hurt by someone else?)  Tired of vagueness, the non relationship.  Tired of not being worth honesty, feeling that it's not safe.  Tired of not being seen, not seen as having worth in me, the person in front of you.  Tired of secrecy, the squirrellyness.  Tired of my own insecurities.  Tired of poor communication (on both sides).  Tired of a lack of affection or warmth or genuine interest in me.  Tired of feeling dirty and untouchable.  Tired of settling for less than I want, and tired of believing that this is how life will always be, and that I should be happy for any attention at all, that mutuality is only for other people.  Tired of believing in a carrot that I follow into a future that will never happen.  Someday.  Was going to.  Next time.  We should.  In the future, a future that only exists in the words as they are spoken.  And maybe they are true in that moment, but they never become reality.  And I keep following them.  Believing them.  Until they dissolve back into the air.  And you're standing there saying it's time to go.

Wednesday

Need to go garden, have taken the whole week off, forecasted rain never seems to fall here, and haven't watered in over a week, plus it's getting overgrown.  Feeling queasy.  Not sure if it's lack of sleep or something sketchy I ate from a food truck over the weekend (not quite hot enough.)  Ugh.

We finally got around to shooting our film over the last couple of nights, and now I think we will have to re-shoot the whole thing as the actor who has been flakey, showed up to the first night's shoot, said, "See you tomorrow night!" as he departed, and then failed to show up last night.  We were all tired, I got home around 3:30 am after the first night.  He didn't even call, and the director tried to get ahold of him.  (Same actor that missed most of our run-thrus.)  I don't think we can even use the original footage as we'll have to get a new location, and he's obviously in a lot of it.  The director had to secure permits, hire security (for which I was grateful, lots of sketchy action on the periphery of the filming; and so many rodents!), rent a vehicle, and find crew...it's just lame to not show up, and not at least call or something.  And if he had missed the first night, at least we could've brought on another actor, and could've used the footage.  Money, and time.  The screening is in a week.  I don't think we'll shoot tonight, though, so can get some sleep.  (I have an inability to sleep past 8 am.)  I don't know what we're gonna do.  We quit a little after 2 am this morning.  Waiting to see what the plan is now.

We are half-way through the physical-theatre class.  I'm moving more intentionally in general.  What I'm picking up this year is that 1) you are never the most important person on stage; 2) it's all about being your best within the group, but contributing to the whole picture is what matters, it's not about "being interesting" and standing out, but about an awareness of the stage and what is needed.

It was mentioned that this training in the States is useful for working in the group, as our culture is very individualistic.  It raises awareness of what is going on around you, to offer what is needed, and not just trying to "make something happen."  (Which goes back to the idea of a production being about the story, and how the acting, directing, staging, lighting, sound, costume, props, etc., should all be in harmony and in agreement as to what that story is, not for any one element to draw attention to itself as if to say, "Look at me!  Look how clever I am!")  While that might serve the ego, it doesn't serve the story.  You serve the bigger picture, even if it doesn't serve you immediately.  Not everything is about you.  It's reading and feeling for the other.  There is a bigger world out there, sometimes what's best for the most isn't what's best for you, but you choose it anyway, because it serves a greater good, even if it doesn't give you exactly what you want.

(I guess he fell asleep, and we don't have to re-shoot the whole thing, which is a relief.  I like him, I just want him to show up.  Fingers crossed everyone shows up to the make-up shoot.)

Tired

I have found, lately, that writing takes more energy than I have.  Saw two shows last week linking (in my mind, anyway) ideas of memory and identity, both on an individual level, and on a cultural level.  Currently lacking the energy to write coherently on this, but there is a spark there, so I will try.

I'm exhausted.  Find I can barely stay awake for the last 1/2 hour of class, though perhaps that's in part because we spend a lot of time sitting.  Film class starts in a week, meeting with my first group before then: we've been assigned scenes/roles already, so need to do work on that.  Dreamt about auditioning, woman in dream laughed at me and said I was not "getting a call back."  The best one can do is to do all the prep work and be ready to go.  We were shaping monologues last night (though, I didn't get to mine, so I'm a little behind now...I'm gonna have to have my roommate watch/listen, she did offer, between now and Monday) and talking about being specific vs. general, and that was one of the things the casting director said to me (and when you do something, do it!) when I worked up the nerve to ask her how I could improve as opposed to walking out with my tail between my legs and giving up (in the dream.)  You know everything you need to say, and then you say and experience it as if for the first time (every time.)  Discovery in the moment.  Anyway, reading Macbeth, and need to read Hedda Gabler again (read over the weekend, plus Twelfth Night) with script analysis, before I meet with my group.  I am excited to start that.  Meeting with my scene partner tonight.  (And we got to go over it in front of the class last night, so at least that one is a little further along.)

And I should list stuff to give away, go through the boxes again...I don't want to move them again.

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.

Tired

Exhausted.  Closing in on the end of a stretch of over-scheduled days (singing tonight and tomorrow night for Sibelius-related events.)  Fortuitously came across a book on Russian culture during the 20th century, discussing the intersection of politics and art.  My new bus read, along with a volume of short plays by Chekhov.

Walked half-way to Ballard after work yesterday.  Was going to a show at 7:30 and had the time.  Sunny afternoon, walk might have added to tiredness.  Writing sometimes feels like it takes more energy than I have to give it.  Pictures are from yesterday.

Patch of light, March 12/L Herlevi 2015

New Grass, March 12/L Herlevi 2015

Bridge, March 12/L Herlevi 2015

Almost equal weight, March 12/L Herlevi 2015

Middle of the week

Woke up (late) from a dream where someone told me they had been wrong about me (poisoned by someone else's words, sounds like a Jane Austen story) and things seemed to be going well and later in the dream, the last I saw of him, he was chasing after my sister arguing with her about what exactly the blood test was...was it the most accurate one (was it a "metabolic panel?" He asked that.  I really did have a blood draw yesterday, but not that one.)  A petty argument, but he cared enough to chase after her.  Sucks.  Just a dream.  Everything finally going in one direction, until it suddenly changes.  (Took notes for Meisner work though, because it's useful, though perhaps only depressing, not quite "life altering.")  Or maybe I just actually need that blood test?  Hmmm.

Was kinda' bummed out when I woke up, though couldn't dwell on it because I was late, and the birds were singing outside, and the sky was light, and I managed to catch the bus in the nick of time, and the sun was rising over the buildings and lighting the cherry trees as I passed through...so, I'm fine again.  A million reasons to let go, but still go back to the neutral set point of yes.  And I will let go eventually, only not today.  And then there is this:

The love you receive will be among your greatest treasures. This is just one more of many reasons why you ought not to waste your time in a relationship that is not reciprocal enough to meet your needs.

(It's from Holiday Mathis, Capricorn.  I like them because they make me think, not because they predict anything.)  And then it's raining again, rain predicted for days.

I didn't upload any pictures last night.  Went to a discussion on art and community and what's working, what's not, what we'd like to see more/less of, etc.  It was a good discussion, a lot of time spent on color-blind casting, and I brought up the building the audience for that, and any work outside of the "norm."  I guess I'll look in the archived message boards for what has been discussed before.  People are starting to look more familiar to me, and several people said they thought I'd been in theatre a while and that I seemed really confident.  I mention that because 1) I don't hear that that much; 2) on my way there I was reading a book about introvert leadership; and 3) aside from the catering and taking classes, well and singing, I've only really been actively involved in anything since January.  Guess it was a good night.  But I fell asleep on the bus on the way home (barely 9 pm) and was too exhausted to do anything but sleep when I got home.

Saturday, waking up

Didn't actually have the chance to take a break until 2 pm yesterday, I walked to get food.  By the time I walked back I was exhausted and freezing, the last two hours crept by.  Napped a little on the bus, but needed to go to the store, felt whiny walking the last ten blocks.  It's the type of exhaustion you feel in the chest.  Crawled into bed around 6, attempted to sleep for about 13 hours, actually slept a good deal of it, though none of it solid.  Weird thoughts.  Weirder dreams, in one I discovered a couple of fish, I didn't know I had, they were alive, but I hadn't taken care of them in ages (years, it seemed.)  There were other people around, I tried to play it off, but I was panicking inside.  What have I been forgetting to nurture (for years?)  Or is it just an anxiety dream, like having to take a math final in a class you never bothered to go to?  Anyway, I'm not sick, just tired.  I get this every couple of years. (Although, I did wake up at 4 am, and I walked to work, because I like snow...maybe it's run-of-the-mill tired.)

Had the thought this morning that I need to make some external life change, to support all the internal ones, so that all the internal shifting that I've been doing all year is not in vain, that I don't just fall back into the same ruts I was in. The mere suggestion of this (even by me) causes alarms to go off in me, still, I want to be the one to make that decision and not have it pushed on me from outside.  I don't know what that would be, I do know I don't want to start this process again.  The mean voice in me says, "yeah, what'd you really do this year?"  Some other part says, "you put yourself on the ledge of where you thought you could go over and over and over again,"...all good things, but emotionally and psychically, exhausting.  Internally, been a very intense year (right now it's not, so easy to forget), externally, you probably wouldn't be able to tell, except, I think I feel more brave than I have in a long time.  I'm not sure what happened during the early part of the century, but I lost a courage I used to have (really, the ability to hold a conviction strongly), and I'm glad to feel it returning. (It's the steady chipping away of tiny pieces of you, undetectable, but constant, and years later you realize there's a hole, a part of you that you let go because it seemed so minor every time it happened: the keeping the peace at all costs, the being liked, the trying to fit in, whatever it was...you can lose you that way.  Not suggesting to always be contrary, just not to lose yourself.)

I should get out of the house. 

Happy Solstice! (Days getting lighter minute by minute now, in the N. Hemisphere.  Something worth celebrating.)

Tired

Been in need of a nap since 9 am. Going to finally take one now; missed choir rehearsal, but got most of my reading done this afternoon.

My doctor, who only gets to say this to me because she's been my doctor for a while and is also a singer, said that I need to start speaking at a higher pitch. She's right of course. How do I begin to do that? I don't want to do it, though it would be better for my throat. In a voice class I took last autumn, my natural resonance was at a higher pitch than how I regularly speak. I know I lowered my pitch in my late teens or early twenties because I wanted to be taken more seriously. I'm not a large person, and I'm female and I was living in a very male-dominated universe, and had always been mocked for looking young and being "girly," (ironically, mostly by girls.) So, there is a lot wrapped up in it. The thing is though, my natural singing pitch is "C" and above (on the treble clef.) It actually is pretty uncomfortable to sing alto. I think my speaking voice is around an "F" or a "G." That's not particularly uncomfortable, but not my natural tone. It would be easier to move away and change it, everyone I know is used to this pitch. I'll have to do it gradually. She suggested I practice the pitch change through singing the words. Maybe I could make my clown speak there until I get used to it? I probably need to go see someone, a speech therapist or a vocal coach. I'm really self-conscious about it. It's physically healthier in the long run, and probably emotionally healthier as well, but emotionally and physically difficult to change.

Saturday

They did have rush tickets so I went to We Won't Pay! We Won't Pay! by Dario Fo, a political farce. I was really tired last night and unfortunately dozed off toward the end (what else is new?) which is unfortunate, there must've been some sorta' resolution. I'll have to read a translation, probably can't get ahold of the translation for this show (it's originally Italian.) I should probably read him anyway. This is over the top, vocally, physically (Adam Standley as State Trooper et al, really stands out, fabulous-especially in the ensemble work with Tracy Michelle Hughes and Kylee Rousellot when they are trying to get his body in the closet-fantastic choreography on that), makes you laugh while driving in nails, of the absurdity and corruption in life. I had looked at the festival listings previously (this was a repertory festival, with all four shows running simultaneously throughout the summer, it closes this weekend) but hadn't had the time nor the money to go earlier. All the shows are thought-provoking: Lysistrata-Aristophnes (a play within a play set in Afghanistan); Trouble in Mind-Alice Childress (race representation in the American Theatre); Stu for Silverton - Peter Duchan/Breedlove (a musical based on the town of Silverton, Oregon, it's transgendered mayor, Stu Rasmussen and the community that stood up for him); and then We Won't Pay! We Won't Pay! (workers losing their jobs from downsizing and the factory closing and trying to live on nothing, while the price of everything increases everyday.) I might try to see if I can get another rush ticket for a show today or tomorrow.

Woke up with another wicked headache, waiting for it to subside a bit. Might be dust or something. I don't know, have had them all week. Maybe I'll clean this weekend as well. Ugh, 600 milligrams of ibuprofen, not making a dent in the headache, though it helped with the wrist pain.

We never did find the right bonfire, we wandered, shuffling across the sand from fire to fire, ending up back where we began, standing outside a building, watching the moon sink lower and lower in the sky until the light reached all the way across the bay. Leaving then, with my bag of marshmallows and chocolate. I'll have to make something with the marshmallows, I've already eaten some of the chocolate (salted almond, dark chocolate.) It was good.

Tired

I probably only got 2-3 hours of sleep last night, woke up at 4 am and couldn't fall back to sleep, though I tried. I'm hardly functioning at all. We finished our initial read-thru early, and then were working on narrative together and I was saying random words to my scene partner as I tried to discuss it with her. My brain came up with semi-related words which my mouth spoke, but they weren't the right ones. All the kissing pretty much has to start happening now.  He (the director) says that we just need to do it. There is no trick. I suppose it's better to get comfortable with it before the public performance. She has to kiss (a man) in her other scene, too. They worked that one tonight. The performance is in about five weeks.

I went to the dentist before class. No sore throat, yet. Hopefully, that was just a fluke. One thing I like about him, is we have similar taste in music. So, when I'm feeling "aauugh! I have a new sensitive spot that the metal probe just found." I also can go to, "ooh, I really like that song." Works for me. Apparently, you can't really numb the lower teeth without numbing the entire lower jaw on that side, so I'll have to find another way to deal with it. (I get novocaine for part of my upper gum-line, makes it so much easier for the hygienist if I'm not jerking around in the chair in anticipation of pain.) The dentist is also nice, and I don't have to go back for a while.

I notice the seagulls near work try to drop down and blend in with the students eating lunch outside, as if to sneak up and grab some food when no one is looking. It would work better if they didn't start squawking. Sometimes people can be pretty oblivious, but the squawks are so loud, you take notice. And yes, I did stay awake just to say that. I have to get up early so I can drop off my rent in the morning, too. Buenas noches.

After 11 pm, still warm out

There is a slight breeze, it rustles the leaves of the pin oaks as I walk past, sounding like running water. I can barely feel it touch my skin, but the sound somehow makes me feel a little cooler. The moon is rising, less than full now, bright, but not so much that I can't see the stars. Not a cloud in the sky.

Happy. Not elated, just happy. That's how I felt at the end of tonight. Perhaps glad to be done with my turn, perhaps in the shared experience of failing. It was universally painful, but we all got up and did it anyway.  I am attempting to deliver what I am asked, and it is often more than I knew I was capable of giving. Still, I need to live more at the higher levels of energy...it's the stoicism again, and thinking too much. I ended up having to use almost every joke I had looked up, none done particularly well, they all flopped...still, I am happy. I hope I am truthful, if not as joyfully playful as others can be.

I'm tired and dirty and hungry. The busses were crowded. There was a baseball game that let out around the same time, though I only had to stand for about 1/3 of the way.  Four more clown sessions. The other class begins tomorrow night.

Devouring tacos

while I  write this. My physical energy level (on a scale of 0-7) would be about a "2," at least, on the last ten blocks home. I walked the last mile or so because I'm so sore that I wanted to try to work some of the lactic acid out of my legs. It'll be worse on Tuesday, which is when I have to go back to class. It's four hours of physical work. The bottoms of my feet are black from the floor, plus at one point I was rolling around on it, so I really need to shower and not just fall over and go to sleep.

Happy. I feel good. I've been pretty centered all weekend for whatever reason (but I'll take it) and that might have helped. It was a nice easing into the work as well, and all the other students seem pretty cool. He seems fair. I know it will get tougher, in fact he said it will get deeper by the third class (Thursday). He mentioned the need to hit the wall again and again until you break through it. I'll have to figure out what that is for me still. I thought I knew at one point, but am not so sure now. Comedy or funny is in the failure and the common experience, or to quote Woody Allen: "Comedy is tragedy plus time."

Realization, about twelve blocks from home: as far as impulse goes, I have them and don't follow through either because I'm 1) being polite; 2) trying not to step on anyone else's toes; or 3) holding back from what I really want for fear of being seen as being too pushy (even when I've known I've earned something, I don't take it.) Lifelong pattern. Would like to break it. I not only sell myself short, I also sell the "sparring" partner short by not giving them my all and not having them push to their limits as well. Sure, there is a time for holding back, but that's not ALL the time.

Attended a travel blessing (for other people) on my way home. I love the idea of being blessed, being accompanied at the onset of a journey. The last time I went on pilgrimage, I received a blessing around day 10 or something, right before that leg of my trip ended. I wasn't expecting it at that point and I was the only pilgrim. We were the two hospitaleros, some people from town, the lone priest and me. I'm sure that I cried, I felt really loved (by strangers, no less.) Anyway, these people, mostly teenagers, are leaving for Africa tomorrow to work at a school and to learn about the culture.

"Be Safe and Well
Peace, Love, Courage"

Traditional farewell (Egyptian, I think) for those leaving on a pilgrimage. May it be life-changing in a good way.

Sometimes the only thing you can do to counteract all the hate, is to put more love into the world, and to continue to work for the betterment of all. It's not by mistake that we are here. Wake up, become who you are meant to be.

I'm tired

More phenomenal dancing, especially the swan from Swan Lake, Les Ballets Trockadero de Monte Carlo, tonight. (Comp ticket.) Bus home was thankfully on time, I'm exhausted and it's cold out. (And I brazenly wore a dress  to work today that is shorter than I remember...actually, not sure why I thought it fit when I tried it on. I've been meaning to sell it, but it seemed to fit acceptably better when I wore it with a belt this morning, which then made it shorter. Anyway, it was cold at the bus stop, is what I'm saying.) Helping with the reception for the donors and dancers tomorrow, and then going to another show on Sunday that runs late, and then I can hopefully get some sleep. The only late thing I have scheduled is class for the following week, unless I go to the Tennessee Williams One Act thing. Haven't decided, he's kinda' a (well-written) downer, but I feel like I should see some actual theatre, been mostly going to dance performances lately. Otherwise, promised to go to an art exhibit and I really need to get some weeding plus all the homework done this weekend.  I have now spent five minutes fighting with the drop down menu to log out of flickr. Annoying. I'd let out a scream, but I think someone might be sleeping, and smacking my head on the keyboard probably wouldn't help either.

The other show I enjoyed this week was the Dance MFA concert. Great work in that as well.