There's a bird I've never heard before (or hadn't been paying attention to) that I now hear around town; still haven't managed to see what it is (one long swoop of a note, five, fast, staccato notes, then one long note held out. I think I could draw it better than explain it.) The birds sometimes all chatter at once, and sometimes, one voice at a time, in succession. The robin is almost always the first, and the loudest, when the sky has only considered lightening. Then it all stops for about an hour. Curious. I can hear one bird now (plus a little bit of background chatter), a mournful one, it's at a distance and the freeway is so loud this morning, it drowns out almost all other sounds. The sky was blue, gold-tinged clouds floating below, when I first woke up, now it's more bright gray, puffs of cool air dropping in through the window, hitting my skin, reminding me I'm alive...maybe it will rain
Need to pack for rehearsal. Happy Tuesday.
Later, walking into work: silence. Almost no one around. No traffic. No wind. Just quiet.
I really should get this ulcer thing checked out...feel like someone's trying to punch their way out of my rib cage. Sigh. (Okay, I did make an appointment, so I'm doing something, not just whining about it.) Also, working on a Plan B for the education thing, conservatory training looks iffy at this point, or scaled back. I just found a class that would have been part of it, with space available, but I'm a day late on turning in the paperwork (because I've been in limbo with seeing if this training would be possible); waiting to hear back if they will still let me in. Always worth asking.
Maybe I should come up with a Plan C....bureaucracy, fees, red tape. Sigh. Need to keep the practice up over the summer.
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Sunday, June 8, 2014
Off on a tangent
Then again, maybe it's not the artists' faults if they just follow what's become a standard form. Shrug. We are not alone in that, look at resumes and cv's and academic journal articles. (Sure, I suppose there should be some standard, but why is it that one? And once you know it, why can't you bend it?) The last of these gets my biggest scorn, if they made them readable (i.e., didn't throw in a bunch on unnecessary, and I might add, at this point, meaningless, words-nothing wrong with the format itself) the average person might actually wade through and read them. And if we could go to the source for the information, we might be better off and more informed than having to have the science (or whatever) translated and dumbed down for us by someone who probably has a bias or a word limit. Seriously, think about that. Sure some of the formulas might be difficult to understand, but the general concepts, the hypothesis, the findings and the possible implications should be readable, but as it is, they tend to get buried in unnecessary verbiage. Every time you go through a translation/re-interpretation, you lose content. Was it important? Maybe, maybe not, but someone else just made that decision for you. (This is similar to an issue I have with not teaching handwriting; our country's founding documents are handwritten. The average citizen should be able to read these for themself.) (John Oliver made a joke about how boring talking about Net Neutrality was, and that's true for a lot of policy and science. It doesn't need to be, but it often is. We get too bored to pay attention, and then decisions are made that affect our lives, for better or for worse.)
I might be done now. I'm not as articulate as I'd like to be, still I think it's important.
Here's a profile shot of a cute goat for putting up with me. (There are birds nesting right outside my window, in the roofline, I can see a blur of flight and hear the chirps as I write this.)
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| Picture of a goat, May/L Herlevi 2014 |
More on that, again
I don't suppose it's fair to expect that every performance is trying to make a deeper connection with the audience, maybe they just want to be entertaining or to look good or to put on a good show. While I don't suspect that's necessarily true here across the board, I'm also aware that I'm projecting my wants and expectations of those being met onto the performers, for what it's worth. For me, art is a way of exploring our common humanity, and getting at truths that aren't always attainable through rational means, and it does a fantastic job of that, but that doesn't mean that everyone else has to feel the same way.
And the thing about the programs, I know there's not a whole lot of room, and I realize you want to give a little background about the artists, but sometimes programs (in general) can feel like you are trying to sell the audience on you, telling us what you've accomplished and convincing us that you are worthy of our time and money...but we've already bought the ticket by the time we see the program. (It sometimes feels like the highlights of a resume, like you are applying for a job with us...one you've already got.) You already have us...invite us into the work you are presenting, more than a title. Some of these bio pages offer nothing at all about what the current work is. Tell me: what is it, what inspired it, why are you doing it now? Doesn't have to be long, give me something, anything. I want to be there with you, I want to like you. It's like they say about auditions, the auditors are on your side, they want you to succeed. And you have...give me an intro to the story...then tell it the way you do best, through dance, movement, song, narrative text, whatever.
I'm done now.
And the thing about the programs, I know there's not a whole lot of room, and I realize you want to give a little background about the artists, but sometimes programs (in general) can feel like you are trying to sell the audience on you, telling us what you've accomplished and convincing us that you are worthy of our time and money...but we've already bought the ticket by the time we see the program. (It sometimes feels like the highlights of a resume, like you are applying for a job with us...one you've already got.) You already have us...invite us into the work you are presenting, more than a title. Some of these bio pages offer nothing at all about what the current work is. Tell me: what is it, what inspired it, why are you doing it now? Doesn't have to be long, give me something, anything. I want to be there with you, I want to like you. It's like they say about auditions, the auditors are on your side, they want you to succeed. And you have...give me an intro to the story...then tell it the way you do best, through dance, movement, song, narrative text, whatever.
I'm done now.
I suppose it's Sunday now
Can finally open the window again, now that the wasps have gone to bed; waited a couple of hours for the wasp that came in the wide open window to re-find it and exit. I said it must be a metaphor for continually banging your head against a dead-end wall when there's another answer open to you, immediately after which, it miraculously found it's way out. Interesting. (Only one of the windows has a screen and it helps to cool it down to open both. It's hot up here.)
Went to the mainstage show at NW New Works, weekend one, tonight. It was good, but I liked the studio set better. Tonight was interesting, the choreography and dancing were ridiculous (-ly good), but I think I prefer to have some narrative and last night had more, and I just connected more to the performances. I suppose the difference was that tonight I was watching a spectacle, and last night I was invited in to the story. Granted, the venue last night was much more intimate. (And I just really like storytelling.) Also, there's only so much static/distortion/flickering/flashing lights I can handle in a night, and it seems like everyone is doing that now, so it kinda' loses it's effectiveness, and just irritates me. And there was a lot of that tonight. All the pieces were good on there own, but maybe the line-up coulda' had a strongly narrative piece thrown into the mix (or a blurb in the program-thank you ilvs strauss for yours-about background for any of the work. I'm not familiar with any of these performers, so didn't have any "in" into the work. But still, nice to look at, even if that's only a superficial appreciation.) Yes, there was a singing piece that had a little narrative, but it wasn't enough. My favorite was the first one, although at some point, it felt like two pieces, there was a little disconnect, but I liked the movement especially when two dancers would separate off from the rest and do a back-and-forth tumbling/dancing thing, keeping one constantly evolving point of connection between them, plus the choreography was super tight. (The Pendleton House, From the Middle to the Edge.)
It was good, I'm glad I went. Glad it was a sold out house, too, so the performers got seen. I appreciate the work and that they are all putting something new out in the world.
Let's see if the internet connection lasts long enough to let me sign out. :)
Went to the mainstage show at NW New Works, weekend one, tonight. It was good, but I liked the studio set better. Tonight was interesting, the choreography and dancing were ridiculous (-ly good), but I think I prefer to have some narrative and last night had more, and I just connected more to the performances. I suppose the difference was that tonight I was watching a spectacle, and last night I was invited in to the story. Granted, the venue last night was much more intimate. (And I just really like storytelling.) Also, there's only so much static/distortion/flickering/flashing lights I can handle in a night, and it seems like everyone is doing that now, so it kinda' loses it's effectiveness, and just irritates me. And there was a lot of that tonight. All the pieces were good on there own, but maybe the line-up coulda' had a strongly narrative piece thrown into the mix (or a blurb in the program-thank you ilvs strauss for yours-about background for any of the work. I'm not familiar with any of these performers, so didn't have any "in" into the work. But still, nice to look at, even if that's only a superficial appreciation.) Yes, there was a singing piece that had a little narrative, but it wasn't enough. My favorite was the first one, although at some point, it felt like two pieces, there was a little disconnect, but I liked the movement especially when two dancers would separate off from the rest and do a back-and-forth tumbling/dancing thing, keeping one constantly evolving point of connection between them, plus the choreography was super tight. (The Pendleton House, From the Middle to the Edge.)
It was good, I'm glad I went. Glad it was a sold out house, too, so the performers got seen. I appreciate the work and that they are all putting something new out in the world.
Let's see if the internet connection lasts long enough to let me sign out. :)
Saturday, June 7, 2014
Raw
I feel raw, like people are digging into me. I want to recoil and crawl into myself, but I can't. More people have been nice than irritated at me, but the barbs stick, why is that?
Went for a walk, warm sun, ducklings progressing into ducks, settling in to take a nap. All eleven having survived to this point, the whole family is curled up on the ramp when I pass them on my way back from lunch. The scent of roses rises in the heat, their colors drawing me in like a five-year old to a candy shop. In the woods, the herons' nests are quiet, the light dappled, the air cool. Over near the greenhouses the giant agave plant readies itself to bloom for the first time in 25 years. Looks prehistoric. Nearby, passion flowers send forth flowers and scarlet runner beans climb, briefly reminding me that I should plant something.
After, I'm a little calmer, but still irritated (had a stupid tiff with my roommate's boyfriend, who is the extra person living with us; irritated that he was bossing me around.)
Later. Went to a book reading/signing (Wendy Perron, dancer/choreographer, writer-though I'm not in the dance world, I saw a notice for it, and can relate to what she was saying, in general) at On the Boards. After, went for a walk. Passing by the little woodland in front of The Rep, I saw a bird dart into the trees and admired it's flight, wondering what it was. Turned out to be a cedar waxwing; a (very) small flock was flying around (I counted three). Surprised by their presence in so urban a setting. Walked back to OtB for the first night of the Northwest New Works Festival (studio), actually loved the whole thing. ilvs strauss was pretty wonderful, and I wanted Sarah Rudinoff's piece to be longer because I enjoyed listening to her talk. Would like to see it again, an over-generous pour of bourbon, combined with lighting and music choice, made me pass out for part of one of the four pieces, and I'd like to see it...I won't drink (it was probably more the music, though.) Might be sold out, it's a small venue. I'm excited to see the rest of the series.
Need to do more character work, in the meantime. It's late and I have to get up early, ciao.
Can't seem to load pictures, internet hasn't been working right, is not working now. It would've been of a turtle, and other random stuff.
Went for a walk, warm sun, ducklings progressing into ducks, settling in to take a nap. All eleven having survived to this point, the whole family is curled up on the ramp when I pass them on my way back from lunch. The scent of roses rises in the heat, their colors drawing me in like a five-year old to a candy shop. In the woods, the herons' nests are quiet, the light dappled, the air cool. Over near the greenhouses the giant agave plant readies itself to bloom for the first time in 25 years. Looks prehistoric. Nearby, passion flowers send forth flowers and scarlet runner beans climb, briefly reminding me that I should plant something.
After, I'm a little calmer, but still irritated (had a stupid tiff with my roommate's boyfriend, who is the extra person living with us; irritated that he was bossing me around.)
Later. Went to a book reading/signing (Wendy Perron, dancer/choreographer, writer-though I'm not in the dance world, I saw a notice for it, and can relate to what she was saying, in general) at On the Boards. After, went for a walk. Passing by the little woodland in front of The Rep, I saw a bird dart into the trees and admired it's flight, wondering what it was. Turned out to be a cedar waxwing; a (very) small flock was flying around (I counted three). Surprised by their presence in so urban a setting. Walked back to OtB for the first night of the Northwest New Works Festival (studio), actually loved the whole thing. ilvs strauss was pretty wonderful, and I wanted Sarah Rudinoff's piece to be longer because I enjoyed listening to her talk. Would like to see it again, an over-generous pour of bourbon, combined with lighting and music choice, made me pass out for part of one of the four pieces, and I'd like to see it...I won't drink (it was probably more the music, though.) Might be sold out, it's a small venue. I'm excited to see the rest of the series.
Need to do more character work, in the meantime. It's late and I have to get up early, ciao.
Can't seem to load pictures, internet hasn't been working right, is not working now. It would've been of a turtle, and other random stuff.
Thursday, June 5, 2014
Holy
Almost 10 pm, and someone has just finished mowing the lawn. Walking home after rehearsal, and after stopping to water the garden, the sky was candy aquamarine; the wide expanse of pavement, warm; the air quickly chilling as the sky darkened with each block I walked. Closer to home, I passed through a wall of swirling insects. I stopped to try to fathom the beginning and end of them: 15 feet up, at least 15 feet wide, and I could see more under the street lamps further off.
Earlier in the day someone had written about a place that he said gave him chills and brought him to tears to even think about. I thought as I walked (and have thought before) that even if you don't believe in the supernatural, that all we have is the material world and this life, we give places meaning and then make them holy not through any supernatural means but by our attention to them. By our visiting them. By walking the paths. By bringing all that we are along on the journey: our hopes, fears, wishes, dreams, loves, secrets, pain, devotion, blood, sweat, and tears. Our presence gives them meaning. The continual expression of our humanity, all of it, makes it holy. And I don't think these places have to particularly have religious meaning, nor do I think you need to be religious or spiritual to be moved. And these places change people, regardless of why they thought they went. And if that's true, and we give and take from those places through our mere presence, then our lives become a part of it, and we carry a little spark of it inside of us when we depart.
Passing through the insects has made me itchy, so I shall depart.
Earlier in the day someone had written about a place that he said gave him chills and brought him to tears to even think about. I thought as I walked (and have thought before) that even if you don't believe in the supernatural, that all we have is the material world and this life, we give places meaning and then make them holy not through any supernatural means but by our attention to them. By our visiting them. By walking the paths. By bringing all that we are along on the journey: our hopes, fears, wishes, dreams, loves, secrets, pain, devotion, blood, sweat, and tears. Our presence gives them meaning. The continual expression of our humanity, all of it, makes it holy. And I don't think these places have to particularly have religious meaning, nor do I think you need to be religious or spiritual to be moved. And these places change people, regardless of why they thought they went. And if that's true, and we give and take from those places through our mere presence, then our lives become a part of it, and we carry a little spark of it inside of us when we depart.
Passing through the insects has made me itchy, so I shall depart.
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
Less
Well, that's done. I was second in line for auditions tonight, think it went better than my last one. Glad it's over, one of my friends said that after I walked out, that was the most relaxed she'd ever seen me. Now I can just focus on the work for class: we need to block and get the fight stuff down, and I still need to figure out my "as if" and how I get to crying. I can do it more easily now, but not quite on cue. I didn't think I'd get anything out of the character private moment last night, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized I had found. All these exercises, getting into the character sideways, help to make the written word three-dimensional and breathing. Less than two weeks to go. At least we can play with it more now that we are off book.
I should probably get a second job.
It's early and I'm free. Cheers.
I should probably get a second job.
It's early and I'm free. Cheers.
Monday, June 2, 2014
Picture(s) of the day
In the same part of the sky as that dove-like (or dragon, if you prefer) cloud was last summer. Reminded me of an angel (breaking free from this mortal coil.) The only cloud in that part of the sky again.
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| Angel-like, June 2/L Herlevi 2014 |
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| Full view of western sky, June 2/L Herlevi 2014 |
Monday
Walking the line of finding the parallel to my own experience where I don't drag myself into a cavern and get lost there...the whole point of this form of acting prep is to not do that. Not always clear on the division. I think it's a seed (truth) of something real, something you/I care about blown out way beyond that point: fantasy. It's an in. How did I get in before? Is it like the wardrobe entrance to Narnia, where you can never go back in the same way? This question wrote a lot of books. I know it's kinesthetic for me...why am I trying to get there through my head?
I'm not afraid anymore (well, not so much that my first reaction is to shut my eyes and run in the opposite direction), my weekends of late seem to find me facing an accumulation of doubts, kept at bay during the week, but raining down on me when I have a chance to stop for a minute. I'm ready to face whatever is there, if anything is, if it wasn't a mirage. And if it was, at least it opened up window for light to shine in, and to re examine things. I didn't write everything down (journal), but there was a willingness to walk away which hadn't been there before, and that's worth exploring. There was more than one answer, and I was fine with that. I don't want to use those as an excuse to avoid my first choice, but it takes the pressure off of what I think I want...I still want to know, but it can be what it is, and not some "answer to end all answers." There is nothing to prove, and nothing to save.
And gratitude for all the lights that shine in our world (for however long or brief) and make the days brighter; and gratitude that I was lucky enough to be touched by any of them, in any way. They've strengthened my faith in humanity and in the belief that all of our lives (the way our lives touch others) matter.
I'm not afraid anymore (well, not so much that my first reaction is to shut my eyes and run in the opposite direction), my weekends of late seem to find me facing an accumulation of doubts, kept at bay during the week, but raining down on me when I have a chance to stop for a minute. I'm ready to face whatever is there, if anything is, if it wasn't a mirage. And if it was, at least it opened up window for light to shine in, and to re examine things. I didn't write everything down (journal), but there was a willingness to walk away which hadn't been there before, and that's worth exploring. There was more than one answer, and I was fine with that. I don't want to use those as an excuse to avoid my first choice, but it takes the pressure off of what I think I want...I still want to know, but it can be what it is, and not some "answer to end all answers." There is nothing to prove, and nothing to save.
And gratitude for all the lights that shine in our world (for however long or brief) and make the days brighter; and gratitude that I was lucky enough to be touched by any of them, in any way. They've strengthened my faith in humanity and in the belief that all of our lives (the way our lives touch others) matter.
Sunday, June 1, 2014
Is ambivalence an enemy?
Not much to say. Searching for the thing in me, an unmet need (real or perceived) that would make me go beyond logic, to be completely irrational. Have not found it. Was not there today. I think I can start from where I was a week ago, but I need to drop over the edge. Where is the place where there is nothing left to lose? Logically, I understand what's going on, but logical is not where these people are at. And they need to be saved by each other. Two weeks. I feel so far away from finding the truth and living that right now. More homework...it needs to break open. Shatter.
And the fact that we always seem to get shorted on time makes me wonder if I should bother doing the audition. It's happened with a couple of instructors (certainly not all.) Is this just hopeless? Because we are performing these though, I'll get it as close to show-able as possible. Maybe it seems that I'm not taking it seriously, but I am. I care.
Still feeling pretty ambivalent...do I just think now that I don't want what I did (for so, so long) because it's a possibility? I don't know that I should walk away just because I'm afraid of what it might mean to stop wanting and actually have. I tell myself that I did follow thru and go to Spain after talking about it forever. And on the balance of it all, that turned out to be one of the best things I ever did. It's only fear of the unknown that makes me think I no longer care. Maybe I know what I need. Maybe the things I want are the right ones.
Back to theatre stuff. Looking forward to a week-or-two off.
And the fact that we always seem to get shorted on time makes me wonder if I should bother doing the audition. It's happened with a couple of instructors (certainly not all.) Is this just hopeless? Because we are performing these though, I'll get it as close to show-able as possible. Maybe it seems that I'm not taking it seriously, but I am. I care.
Still feeling pretty ambivalent...do I just think now that I don't want what I did (for so, so long) because it's a possibility? I don't know that I should walk away just because I'm afraid of what it might mean to stop wanting and actually have. I tell myself that I did follow thru and go to Spain after talking about it forever. And on the balance of it all, that turned out to be one of the best things I ever did. It's only fear of the unknown that makes me think I no longer care. Maybe I know what I need. Maybe the things I want are the right ones.
Back to theatre stuff. Looking forward to a week-or-two off.
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