Pictures

Later, went to this studio series called "The Incubator Series" at Freehold in Belltown.  Tonight was program A (two programs each weekend, for two weekends total).  It was fun.  If I had the time, I'd go see it again.  I recycled my program, I guess I can ask someone what the last piece was called.

Didn't really want to come home, but did.  Got rid of the carpet pieces, luckily they were scraps, so I could remove them.

The light after work tonight was glorious.  Again, I think it has to do with clouds.  Makes me swoon.  More so in the first picture.  These are the same trees in both shots.

Swoon-worthy light/L Herlevi 2014

Afternoon trees/L Herlevi 2014

Residue

Yesterday, the song that came into my head as I was re-reading Act II was The Winner Takes it All by ABBA.  This morning, I awoke from a dream that must've been a combination of all the scenes from last night, crowded with people, someone trying to keep me from leaving.  The residue of dreams lingers all day.  Looking at a piece of paper, the sound of hail, the ringing of a phone, triggers the same feeling.

Started reading "The Importance of Being Ernest," after work and then came home and the other woman that lives here was moving out, so now I'm stressed out again.  And cleaning.  And getting rid of stuff.  I really need to call the landlord, check on the monthly utilities (we aren't paying them currently) to see how much it would be to take the whole house for a year, I'll look elsewhere, too.  Just want to keep my options open.  If I didn't have the arm injury, I would be slightly less stressed about moving.  I can't bear weight on it, which means I'll have to get a lot of help to move.

Here are a couple pictures of the cherry trees in bloom, taken right before hail fell.

March 19/L Herlevi 2014

 

Trees/L Herlevi 2014

Maybe laughing too much

I don't know if it's a form of hiding behavior or just that with different people you will have a different working energy, but there are two people I've been working with that I just laugh the whole friggin' time. And I sometimes feel kinda' bad about it, but it's what comes up.  Maybe we are avoiding things; or maybe we just need to laugh...and being able to laugh that much, regularly, is fairly recent for me (since Portugal).  There are a couple people that I usually end up crying with as well, they hit something routinely.  Every time I work with them (both the laughing and the crying) I have the same sorta' reactions. Will have to move beyond those things though, I imagine.

I ran into a friend on the bus yesterday, she asked why I was putting myself through all of this, I answered that I wanted to act.  But also, I think for most things that you want to do, it takes work or practice to get better at them; there's often a struggle as part of the learning process.  I do want to perform, but even if I never do (again), I'll be freer for all the work.

I think my trees are gone now.  On Monday, the arms were all removed, just the bare trunks remained.  I haven't been back since.

Home on Sunday

Class was at 9 am this morning. Still feeling resistance; feeling ungrounded. It's showing up in not letting my partner in, not taking them in, so I more urgently need to find a way to get out of my head more and into my body. It's interesting that the center of gravity affects whether I'm present in my body or only with my mind. I spend a lot of time thinking and relating logically. I need to let my heart and my gut into the action as well. We came up with a charter for the rest of the duration, defining how we will be together, what we bring, what we expect from ourselves and each other. It's liberating to have the parameters; it makes it all safer; defines what's the ground, where are the edges. For me, it makes me feel emotionally freer, still a problem for me, but freer. I don't always know what I'm feeling, but maybe that's because I'm trying to find the words in my head, and they don't live there. Worth a thought.

Earlier this week, someone posted an essay on Facebook about how someone wanted to be lovers with everyone they met without that being a sexually intimate thing. I find that whole idea liberating as well. I'll have to find it again, reread it. The impression it left with me was being really present with everyone you encountered, and getting to know people as well. And then I thought, yeah, not rushing into something because there's some unspoken idea out there that there's a "timeline" and you are "supposed" to jump through some freaking hoop by some arbitrary moment, probably decided by an advice columnist in a men's magazine, and universally adopted across the board. It's your body. It's your emotional life. You should really decide between the two of you what works, instead of having unexpressed expectations. I digress.

Went to a play after class, not quite sure how I feel about it yet. I have the annoying thing going on where someone else's opinion colors my experience in that I wonder if they would like it, and what they think about it, and if I'm some rube for my "uninformed" opinion. This is happening alot, it's irritating me. I want to get the insecure snootiness out of my head, and get back to liking things because I like them, or don't, as the case may be. It's like a giant eye watching me and judging me. Not really happening, I know this, constantly think about it just the same. Really needs to close and shut up already.

Here are the trees I love. 


Beloved Trees/L. Herlevi 2013

Last days of flaming glory

Oh. Lots of robins this morning. A sky full of robins. Gorging themselves on the fruit of the ash tree. Flocking with the starlings, the voices of both filling the air with song.

My favorite trees are scheduled for removal at any moment. The thought of it rips my soul in two. I get attached to old trees. They stand there waiting for an execution, flaming red against blue sky, wrapped in prayer flags and tokens of love people have left there. "Replacement trees will planted when project is done." One generic life does not "replace" a specific, beloved one. I get too attached to life. Generics can never replace a specific, beloved one.

A couple better photos

Here are some birch trees I passed by on the very long and scenic route home today. I needed some wildlife and forest time. It took me more than two hours to get home this way. (These are taken with the old, point-and-shoot digital camera.)

Birch trees, late afternoon/L. Herlevi 2013

And a mama mallard and very tall baby that walked up out of the canal and came up to me. I think something might have been wrong with the female, she was making squeaky noises at me and her feathers were kinda' a mess, like something had gotten on them. It used to be a landfill, so it's a little toxic, still. She walked the baby to the ditch on the other side of the road, it went into the water, but she remained standing in the road.


Ducks/L. Herlevi 2013

Ducks/L Herlevi 2013

Friday, early

It's 5:55 am. The rain was pounding against the window earlier, I should turn on the light, trying to type in the dark. I've been feeling a little blank lately, not down, just not much to say, yet I try to keep the writing practice, both here and on paper.

Here's a poem (well, I think it's actually part of a much longer poem) by Elizabeth Barrett Browning. (I think it's from Aurora Leigh, but I can't remember.):

Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God;
And only [she] who sees, takes off [her] shoe;
The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.

-Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Now that's it's spring the whole earth has errupted in leaf, and flower and song and life.
Hyvää perjantaina! (Happy Friday.)

The rain had stopped by the time I left, and I did walk.  The cherry trees have now dropped most of their petals with help from the wind. The ground is covered in them, looking like the scene after a blow-out party or parade. The petals swirl in the eddies of the wind like pink snowflakes, pile up in drifts like dirty snow. The bricks are slippery. The party has passed.  Crap, sometimes I am an emotional moron. (And I mean that in the most affectionate way.) I suppose that really was a date. (Sometimes hard to tell when both people are vague and non-committal about the whole thing.)

Happy Weekend

I feel odd.

Here's a picture for the day, magnolias in the Quad, my cherry tree pictures weren't as good, too far away.

Magnolia tree/L. Herlevi 2013

Also, a song. In honor of Billy Bragg playing the Neptune later this week. It's not really a video, mostly just a picture of one of the Oasis guys. But I like this version of the song, the hollowness of the room.  Accident Waiting to Happen. It reminds me of driving across the Franklin Mountains between El Paso and Las Cruces with my aunt and uncle a long time ago. They had found an old Billy Bragg tape somewhere and we played it in the car, because it reminded them of when my sister had visited them in England in the early 90's. I haven't heard his music lately, I used to listen to him a lot in the late 80's and early 90's. I listened to Workers Playtime alot, it had all the "love" songs on it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aCCnNqyrgmI

Gonna go see if I need a benedryl.

Trying to purge stuff. Got rid of a box, then took two large bags of clothing to a Goodwill drop-off. Walked 40 blocks home. The sun was warm, the air slightly cool, smelling clean of balsa and rockrose. I love late afternoon when the sun begins to slant toward the horizon. My favorite time of day.

night, but not Friday

The flocks of geese across the street call to each other in the dark. Earlier I went to see a photo exhibition and when I got off the bus it had begun to hail. After I left the gallery, I walked 20 minutes in the rain to the library to return an overdue book, in hopes of snow.  It snowed a little, now and again. I barely made it back to rehearsal in time. There were only two sopranos tonight so I was trying to sing loud and practicing air-moving techniques from the voice class.  And though I definitely have more vibrato, and, I think, more volume, my voice itself is shot. I sound like a boy going through puberty when I speak, however, my throat isn't sore. Still, I guess I understand why the ENT doc said not to sing (or shout, or whisper.) I'll take a break again after Easter, but I love the Good Friday music and I really want to sing it. The other choir only has two more concerts until late summer.  Both of those are in April.  And even though the cherry trees are only beginning to bloom, people are showing up to take pictures of and with them, and climbing them, and standing in them while conducting everyday conversations. I love them all year, but they definitely stand a bit taller now.