Raccoons, but no shooting stars

Tired. The air was still warm when we got out of rehearsal, but there was a low-hanging coolness that smelled of the sea. It even managed to work it's way into the tunnel. I caught the third bus because I missed the first and the second was late and doesn't go close enough at this hour. Even though my bus was 10 minutes behind that one, it caught up because it didn't have to pick anyone up.

I looked for shooting stars as I walked home. Saw the Big Dipper, it's one of three constellations I can identify, the other two being the Little Dipper and Orion, but no shooting stars. As I got closer to home, I saw two mid-sized raccoons lumping their way across the busy street, moving toward my house. I like them, from a distance.

We worked our scene tonight. It's longer and has a lot more blocking than I thought. It was very hot: the play takes place in winter and we had winter clothing on, and the rehearsal space was hot. Two of my shirts were soaked. I really need to get my lines down, it was hard to block holding a script. We need to be off-book by next rehearsal. The kissing is not my biggest issue, I have other things I need to work on that will be harder, but the physical training is proving helpful, it's good that they overlapped.

Also, need to talk to more people about the Meisner year. I don't have a good sense of what exactly it offers (compared to other training), if it's what I need, and what the actual time committment is. And with the latter, I am willing to give up the rest of my life for the next nine months, but I want to know I'm getting the training that's right for me at this time, that will move me forward. (The things I will give up are important to me-such as singing, and I barely see anyone outside of work or school now.) I question this because doing more clown and improv might be more helpful for me, it's what has helped me this year. Although, I need to work on speaking, and there are other aspects of working with text that I managed to not get that other people have, and my director has to explain to me what he's talking about. (The curriculum needs to be more uniform overall.) I spoke briefly with someone that dropped out of Meisner, he made me concerned about outside committment requirements, but again, I need to talk to more people. I'm less than 99% sure now.  I remember now that in every course evaluation I filled out over the past year I added that they should offer clown again. Still don't remember why.

I'm hungry, and I'm somehow craving tartar sauce with dill in it...must be the picture of a fish I just saw.

I got a notice from the library that I got the book back. The same book. The next day.

Here's a link to Star Sign by Teenage Fanclub (sounds a bit wonky)http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xw49UgKoZnQ

Tuesday evening, reading

Listening to the radio, attempting to write updates on the other neglected blogs. Afterwork, I went to MOD Pizza and read another hundred pages of David Copperfield before returning it, past due, to the library. It was almost 90 degrees but with a pleasant breeze when I left work. I was sitting on the patio area and was visited by a wasp/hornet-type creature. It really wanted my pizza. I tossed it a piece of meat in hopes of it leaving  me alone, and eventually it began to gnaw off bits of that and fly off, to return and do it again. Kinda' interesting. I generally prefer it when they don't bite me.

The sun was a warm, low-slanted glow. A tannish dog with a long face, lay on the sidewalk, tied to a bike rack, waiting to be returned to. It's mouth open in a panting smile, the hairs on it's lower jaw a bright halo in the early evening light.  Walking home, I turned to see a man chase a car and stand in traffic, oblivious to the cars around him, and then passed block party after block party, remembering it was the block party night across the city. My neighborhood never seems to do one, but I could have gone to the one near work, I got a notice about it, but I forgot, plus I didn't have anything to bring.

I was starting to get a headache by the time I left work. I drank water and beer (not the brightest choice) and I still have the headache, but because of the beer, I'm waiting to take anything for it. I suspect I'm dehydrated.  Now, I'm much more into the book, and will have to wait. (I get lost in the writing, it helps me to stop my involuntary (completely involuntary) swooning over him, whom my brain is determined to no longer be into, but apparently my heart isn't listening. The thing is, nothing will come of it, but it's not ego-based for me, whereas with a lot of the other men I meet, not all, it's more about I like that they like me. With him, I just like him. And I like that about me. So, maybe it's all about me. Shrug.)  Maybe I'll get the book again in-between quarters. The show is the weekend after Labor Day, I also have my audition for the scholarship that week. I need to write my application and work on a monologue. They say it should be something I love, but I don't know enough to really love any. I just haven't read enough, lately. I read alot of plays when I was in my early 20's, but that was awhile ago, and I'm not sure I loved any of those anyway, plus I'm older. I guess I'll look this week. I'd rather have one ready than pull something together at the last minute. Plus the application, ahhh, how will this change my life? How will this move me forward? Yeah, need to digest that one. More script work now. It's later than I thought.

Too much empty garden space

Parts of the bottom of my feet feel raw and hot from the shoes I had on earlier, I didn't even walk much in them. I actually went barefoot for awhile, in the grass. I was thinking it's funny that I have a different standard for things when I travel, including hiking, than I do when I'm in my hometown. I'm completely aware of the switch in thinking, but I still make the distinction. I will walk barefoot more when I travel; I will use barely clean silverware (meaning not actually cleaned); I will eat stuff I've been carrying around all day (that should have been refrigerated); my levels of what I consider "sanitary" go out the window. I'm not sure why. Anyway, I was thinking that I hardly ever walk around barefoot  here, and almost always do when I travel...there is the factor that it feels good on sore feet to be barefoot, and when I travel, I often have sore feet. I walk alot.

Went to water, not sure if the beans are gonna make it. The rain last week helped, but only a couple have sprouted, and something ate most of those leaves off. Half my garden is bare, I really need to get something to grow, it's hard to even find seeds in the stores, they say it's too late in the season to start from seeds. I ate an almost ripe tomato, because I never get them. It was good, a little bit sour, but good. One of the plants has some sorta' wilt, I picked off those "branches" and am hoping it's slow to spread. I have six tomato plants and one jalepeño, which is also miraculously producing. I need to look up what these tomatoes are supposed to look like when ripe 'cos I have no idea. I always buy the weird ones.  I have an affinity for unusual plant cultivars, and they are less likely to get pilferred.  I'll give them away anyway (I probably can't eat them anymore), but I want to pick them. I want to have the experience seeing something I grew ripen. Plants grow in spite of me. The only things I've actually gotten to grow well are: artichokes, cauliflower (don't understand that one-should be difficult, but grows for me), and turban squash (it was beautiful)...oh, and parsley.

Dang! That's actually a blister, and my clown skirt smell like unpleasant laundry detergent. No, I have never washed it, I wore so much under it, I didn't think it mattered, and I spent all my quarters washing dark clothes. Time to memorize lines, I think. I hope the spider I just lifted out of the bathtub doesn't pay me a visit. It momentarily meandered off in a different direction.  I know they're here, but I prefer not to see them in my room.

Monday-the world is resting

Forty minutes late for work this morning. I missed the regular bus as I was between stops when it passed by, and then all the others came at the same time, which was late. Apparently, an intersection was blocked and everything was re-routed, and then people weren't sure if they wanted to get on the bus or not, at most of the stops. An odd, slow commute. I probably coulda' walked almost as fast.  I need to get myself out the door earlier.

For the record, I'm not burned out now, that was before. I'm trying to navigate through and find a balance in my life now so that I don't fall into that pattern of overextending and losing myself again.  Not a good place to be, and it took a long time to realize that there was another choice, or choices. There were things I knew, but over the weekend I feel like I got a cosmic smack on the side of my head. It was the accumulation of recent experiences and reading and some podcast stuff I listened to...I hope it sticks. A whole new round of letting go, if only that got easier.

The branches are shaking hard on just one of the trees outside, as if it were being blasted by a very directional breeze, and one lone, sooty-colored bird plopping itself down from branch to branch that I can't get a good glimpse of . And now the shaking has suddenly stopped. Curious. Earlier I thought it was a perfect August morning, the light, the air temperature, the stillness; the holding of one moment a little bit longer before diving headlong into the next thing: the final burst of life and then the dormancy of winter.

Sunday

Both of the choirs are singing again this month. The Finnish choir's event coincides with a long play rehearsal day so I can't go, but I might go to the (singing) rehearsal anyway. I like singing with them, and it's been a few months since we've met. I know we have a meeting coming up about our future (we don't have a director anymore), but I want to sing. I like singing, and I need to use the language.  Everything is mixed up in my head, I try to come up with the transalation for something and I think of a word, but can't remember what language the word is in. The joys of remembering several languages only partially. I can make the other choir's event, that's in a couple of weeks, doesn't conflict with anything.

The pain in my arm is finally calming down. If it was at a 6 or 7 yesterday, it's closer to a 1 now, and that's good, 'cos it's usually worse first thing in the morning. I took the medicine yesterday. I hate having to, it freaks me out, but it does help with the ability to function and my magical thinking does not. Still, I want to heal the underlying physical issues that make it worse, the medicine only manages the symptoms, it's not a cure. One of my massage therapists was telling me about a woman that works with diet, but I keep forgetting her name. It's a fairly radical change. I find for me, those work better if I have someone looking over my shoulder, I'm not good at making major changes on my own. It's why I'm always taking classes, I learn more when I'm accountable to someone else. I don't have a lot of self-discipline. It's also why I write everyday, and make myself meditate, even if it's boring (sorry!). I'm trying to stay in the habit of doing it. If I stop, I'll just keep making excuses of why not I don't need to do it today, or ever.

And I realize it's a two-way street: I need to stop being in the background of my own life; if I want support or attention, I need to mention it. (There will be people who don't need to be reminded of that, but plenty that do, so might as well get used to mentioning it. Yeah, it's hard.) I've seen that switch even with my family, the support surprised me. It wasn't that they didn't want to give it, and only take it from me, it's that they might not have realized I needed it. Funny how that works. And Capricorns are said to come across as self-sufficient when we really need support and attention, and frivolity, I might add. I thought I was being selfish, and yet, they were genuinely happy for me. Proud of me. (And George, clown class, mentioned the need to accept what you've earned, to take it and not deflect it or walk away before accepting it. And you know, when you've lived your life with the belief that, you know I'm not sure how to word this, maybe that your life is to be in service of others, it's hard to let yourself take the attention, 'cos it's not supposed to be about you. It's a weird message.  You know, it has to be about you at some level, or you just burn out.  And I burned out.)

Wondering about ability to love

I've been trying to figure out my own motivations for falling so hard for someone who very well might not be able to love back. Sometimes I feel like he's trying so hard to appear as someone lovable and that all those impulses might really be there, but sometimes it seems he really can't be bothered to sincerely care about other people. It's an interesting dichotomy, or is everyone like that, and I just haven't noticed before? I sincerely hope for him, that he can find and return whatever it is he's looking for. That he can believe he deserves it for real.  Anyway, I've been trying to break my own patterns of falling for men I won't have to commit to, because they will never commit to me. What am I so afraid of? How did we all end up so damaged, and what was the inner resiliency of the people who didn't? I've been working on it this year.

And in thinking that I often fall for men who can't or don't want to (same result in the end) love me, I remembered that much earlier in life, I did love someone (okay, more than one) without any fatal flaws (red flags.) The flaws he had then were nothing that were intolerable, more quirks that could be lived around. I, on the other hand, had plenty of fatal flaws at the time, which is partially why it didn't work out. But even in the state of my most basket-case existence, I was able to choose someone pretty darn centered and healthy (and he hadn't had an easy life either, but he had a good disposition somehow.) (And during the same period of time, I had a friend that loved me fiercely without any strings attached. I don't think I've been loved that much by anyone else in my entire life. I certainly needed it then. I've often thought it was a shame I didn't feel any physical attraction...we made a good team. He loved me as a human being, it wasn't a physical relationship. I loved him, too, though not romantically.) So, I am capable of it, what happened in the intervening years that made me so ambivalent?

And yet, I do think I have the capacity to love, but I now want someone who wants to know me, it can't be all one-sided. I can't be expected to exist only to adore him, without a return in sentiment.  I know it sounds silly, but why would I fall for someone who barely can be bothered to take an interest in me? That I became so elated if he paid any attention...screw it, I want more than that now. I'm interesting, too.  And as I said earlier, I'm not begging anymore.  I mean that this time. I don't want that life. I know this is really personal, but only a couple of people read it, and you've already read all the other personal stuff. The rest are spam hits.

(I think there might be a bunch of clowns outside my house, for real. Seafair.) I will try to have better sentence structure from here on out. I'm capable of that, too.

Need groceries

But I don't feel like going right now. I just want to say that it's funny that I'm way more concerned about my breath kissing a girl than I ever am kissing a guy...what's up with that? It might be because I know I will kiss her, because it's in the script, whereas when I'm on a date with a guy, I don't necessarily know that I will. It's interesting. I was like, "oh, shit. I shouldn't have had coffee."

And for the record, ain't no glamour in making art. Lots of repetition of scales, dance moves, lines spoken, lines drawn, pots thrown, film developed, cleaning of brushes, interviews and drafts and rewrites, etc. Maybe a brief interlude to burn or shine, and then back to the grind or to waiting for it to be your turn. (And the pay is lousy, for the amount of work done.) It's like any other job. But you do it because you have to. Something inside would rather die than not do it. And if you have to do it, there are moments where some part of you is fully alive like it is in no other moment. So you plod on.

Three hours until rehearsal

Barely got any of the script memorized, I don't know if we will work on our scene today or not, it's the last one, but we will probably all be in the room for the whole six hours. I thought I heard birds singing a little while ago, but when I opened my window, there was only silence. Some geese had flown over in the distance, and a baby crow cawed across the street once or twice, and then a truck rattled past, but no robins or sparrows are singing here now.

There are these free late afternoon (live music) shows on Friday nights in August at Seattle Center. I was gonna go last night, but thought it would be better if I worked on memorizing my lines, plus I'm still really tired and I wanted a nap. I ended up reading about half of Art and Fear, and then came home to take a nap, but didn't get back up until now. I've got three hours. There's not really alot of text, the script is kinda' cluttered with so much stage direction that it's hard to find the lines. I've actually crossed most of it out. I want to get the lines down though, so I can work on the changes, figure out what I want moment to moment (I think we decided there were 20 beats.) I'm not sure what I want overall, I must want something. The lines feel reactionary, not assertive. The play is about love, in a general sense, so that would be a big overriding theme, but not specific in the scene.  I know I just said I wasn't going to discuss the show, but all this is so general to any process, it's not specific about this rehearsal and show.

I need to journal too, to figure out more about my character. I can't hold a pen right now, which is why I'm typing, my hand is really bad this morning: swollen, painful, has been most of the week. I need to find a doctor I can work on this food intolerance thing with. There have to be foods that don't freak out my immune system. I think I know what set this off, but I don't know how to heal it. I know it's possible, but I want to find someone that knows what they are doing, that regularly works with this. The regular doctors only offer drugs, which work on the symptoms, but that's not exactly the same as being healed.

Rainy Friday

I just got my lunch for free because the computer system to pay wasn't working correctly. I am grateful.

And while I'm still open if he were to decide to love me, I'm off of my knees (finally.) I'm not waiting anymore.

And now that we are into the rehearsal process, I'm not going to talk about the show anymore, unless it's vaguely about my own emotional process.

Finito

Okay, so clown is over. For the final exercise, my partner and I ended up going last. I said to someone else, "how do you go after that?" (about the ones before. What is there left to do? It was like when I was a little kid, maybe four or five years old, I thought that I'd better hurry up and write songs because there are only so many notes, and everything will be done already. Well, there are an infinity of choices still to be made.) She said, "forget about it." I was imagining a story, my "as if", and it went alright. (I didn't tell my partner; that wasn't the point.) It was just a starting place for me to walk out, whatever happened after that was free to happen. I did enter and exit with same idea though. The exercise was: 1) entrance, 2) shift/change, 3) exit. I didn't know what would happen in the middle section, I just tried to connect with my exercise partner. I can share that without breaking any trust, it's a basic exercise. It was hard to keep it "clown" and not go into "acting." I was trying to stay connected to my partner, and "clown" would include the audience, "acting" not necessarily. And I think everything made sense for a moment. It was a very sweet (the improv, in general), but also a cummulative, way to end the class. (And it didn't involve shame or failure.) Incidently, in trying to juggle: clown, connection with audience, acting on impulse, energy levels, connection with partners, failing, etc...I haven't a clue who my clown is at this point but...the actress (as well as the person) is expanding. The options have grown exponentially...and that is worth every penny and every second spent here. (And what I wanted from the class.  Maybe I will make people laugh someday, but that wasn't the point for me.) And so yes, I'll reiterate the statement that this was one of the best decisions I've made for me.