Monday

My stomach is killing me.  Been hurting since Friday, keep hoping it'll get better on it's own, I'm not worried, it just hurts.  (Like someone tied a knot in my gut and then started pulling on it.)

Learned a trick for hitting high notes, and that is that instead of thinking "high" (which can pinch your throat), think about throwing the sound to the floor.  Makes a huge difference...how have I never heard this before?  Better volume, too.

We have a concert next week and then we might be done for the year, I'm pushing for a couple more rehearsals, to look at Oma Maa, see if it's feasible to sing it next fall.  I really want to sing it, but we might not have enough rehearsals to get it down.  Will free up Mondays though.

Still haven't decided if I'll take a class this spring.  Leaning heavily to the intensive in the summer, which will be most of June.  Would like to do a scene study class, too, because I haven't done scene (or much partner) work in a while.  Have a spark of an idea for another solo piece (possibly two), but nothing for the clown showcase.  I need to move, too, I tend to generate more ideas through movement than thinking.  (Move, write, and speak, move, write, and speak.)

And find a director.

(Good) Friday

Time passes so fast.  Looking at a picture, seems recent, but it was already six months ago, a warmish October afternoon, sun glaring on the water, birds aggressively begging for bread, a boy cautiously peering down toward them, no bread in hand, the birds tense and ready to spring at the slightest offering.

Tonight, the moon so bright, soon an eclipse, though I don't know how visible here.

Earlier, sang at Good Friday service, probably my favorite service all year.  (Mostly) music I love, the one I haven't liked has been growing on me, I've tried to find things to like about it.  It's supposed to be meditative, and the words are beautiful, it's just very long.  We also sing a chant as the lights go completely out, and sing "Were You There" from the balcony, acapella, in the dark.  There are many moments of total silence.  My favorite piece of music to sing, Ave Verum Corpus, is sung on Good Friday.  Overall, I think it's seven readings (from arrest to crucifixion) and nine pieces of music, lights go off after each section, and everyone leaves in the dark.

And in all that contemplation and somberness, I had a clown moment.  I came home to get my music and change into black clothing, and ran out the door to catch a bus.  I did take my jacket off while we rehearsed.  One of the other sopranos fixed my tag that was sticking out.  But right before the service, I was trying to put a tissue in my pocket, and I couldn't locate a pocket.  And I thought, "Weird, I could swear this dress had pockets."  I made a joke about putting it on backward or inside-out, and the women on either side of me, said that it wasn't either.  When I got home, I looked at the dress in the mirror, trying to figure out why I couldn't find the pockets.  I even lifted it up to look underneath...no pockets on the sides.  Then I looked in the mirror again, and realized I somehow managed to put the dress on sideways...how is that even possible?  The straps were somehow still crossing in the back and one over each shoulder.  At least I haven't completely lost my mind, there are pockets, just happened to be at the front and the back tonight.  Been a bit spacey today.

Been reading Small Victories, by Anne Lamott, and It's Not You, by Sara Eckel.  Both, in a way, dealing with forgiveness and acceptance.  The latter seeming like irreverent dating advice, but in the end, refuting that idea that if you are single you must have some glaring fault you have to fix first.  And it is refreshing to hear once again, that you don't have to be perfect first.  No one is.  Those people who are not single, are also not perfect.  Not that you can't change if you want, but how many times have you heard "You're not ready." "You're too independent." "You need to love yourself more." "You're too needy." "You need to work on yourself." etc.  No more than anyone else.  You are good enough already.  You are as much worthy of love as anyone else.  And then Lamott dealing with forgiveness, especially self-forgiveness.  For all the bad choices that you made; for loving too much, or not enough; for silence, for lack of silence; for treating yourself poorly; for playing the martyr; for trying to solve everything; for walking away or for staying; for loving those who treated you badly, and running away from those who didn't; for wanting things you couldn't have; for holding out hope; for anything else: you don't have to pay penance forever, crawling on your knees through the desert.  You can get up now, and live.  It's enough. (You've done enough.  You are enough.)

Storm or no

Was kinda hoping for a thunder storm, but looks like that's no longer in the forecast.  Just chillier than yesterday, and lots of clouds building up.

A friend handed me an envelope with a check in it, to help me buy a phone, because I haven't had one in the past year.  (I've had other bills, and I didn't want to pay $60/month for something I hardly ever use.  My land-line was $35.)  I opened it at home, it's enough to actually buy a phone.  She had earlier told me about a low-cost option for service, but I still needed to come up with the money for a phone.  She's a generous person, but still...surprisingly, I don't know.  She's no more wealthy than I.  Remarkably humbling and remarkably touched.

Going to a forum on housing affordability later tonight.  That'll be it's own form of a storm.  Not sure what can be solved exactly...but for the first time in my life since I turned 20, I probably need a co-signer to rent.  I work full time.  I make more than minimum wage.  That's just sad.

Keep having ideas slip through my mind both for clown and for solo work, but they slip back out.  Scheduling conflicts too, there's an intensive training I want to do while I have the opportunity, but it conflicts with the show, a class, and a mandatory meeting for another show I'm applying for.  Need to find a director as well.  (I create better in an ensemble, even if it's solo work I create, so I'm trying to keep that avenue open.  I need to move to create, get out of my own head.)  And for some reason I'm in some tunnel-vision mode, even though I've done all the things I needed to get through already, it just hasn't registered that I can relax.  (Or maybe it's just the general tension floating around that has me high-strung.  Not looking forward to the housing meeting, but it's important.)

This is from last Friday, the petals were blowing around.

March 27/L Herlevi 2015

Spoke too soon on the weather.  All the lights just went off and came back with a high, tinkling click, all in succession.  Think we heard thunder.  Just in time for the evening commute.

The forum/panel was good overall, well-heeled.  The moderator, Sanjay Bhatt, handled it well, and two of the panelists,  Nela Richardson and David Rolf, brought in the issues of the disappearance of middle-income jobs, how we have now the highly-paid specialist/technical jobs, and the low-paying service jobs that serve them.  How most job growth has been in the low-wage category; how we need a more equitable distribution of services (grocery stores, stores, good schools, entertainment venues, restaurants, etc) and mixed housing throughout all neighborhoods; how those minimum wage increases pour money back into the local economy, if still never allowing the earner to own a home, perhaps they can afford their own apartment, have a little bit of dignity.

There was a lot of talk about building housing for earners in the $40-60,000 range (middle-class), but nothing for those who make above poverty, but less than $40,000, people who are paying more than 40% of income for rent. (Some people are at 70%.)  Housing was replaced in Holly Park, and now Yesler Terrace (formerly serving low-income tenants), to provide housing for people in the $40-$60,000 range...where do the lower income people go?  That's still not being answered, and that's where  many of your service economy workers find themselves.  Who does the service work when those who did it can no longer afford to live here?

Friday

It is so difficult to change habits.  There must be a strong enough trigger to cause the change.  Back to mindlessly drinking coffee...and I don't even like the taste that much.  It feels special or something.  I have changed other habits, foods I no longer eat (just not the ones I'm currently trying to test, I don't eat potatoes or orange juice, the latter makes me ill to even think about, so that's helpful.  And I've had to give up things like falafel in most places because it's fried in the same oil as potatoes.)  It was easier when I was younger, and I'm not sure why that is.  I feel for anyone trying to stick to a diet or break an addiction.  I came across an article recently that discussed using community, connection to help break addiction.  Felt helpful and promising.  At any rate, I have more immediate issues to deal with, and maybe in the process, things will improve.  There's probably an interrelationship between them all. (And I might have gotten overzealous with the supplements.)

Someone asked about what to do in the face of mindless suffering (yesterday was a bad news day), and I was thinking of something else someone had posted about appreciating people in your life today not because they might be gone tomorrow, but because they are here today, or something to that effect.  Practice more patience?  Be kinder?  Love more?  Listen?  Just a thought.  (We'd probably all appreciate being on the receiving end, no?)

Pictures of yesterday.  The rabbit is cute, but should have been taken to a shelter rather than released into the park.  One, it's cruel and irresponsible, and two, the city just spent a lot of money humanely removing the rabbits from the park (they are feral, and they were causing a lot of damage from burrowing...including under the highway.)  Beef of the day, especially since it's almost Easter.  I think the rabbit was recently released, pretty healthy looking and tame.  It deserves better than to be left to fend for itself against traffic, dogs, and birds of prey.  I hope someone catches it and keeps it.  It's adorable.

Released pet, March 26/L Herlevi 2015

Working, March 26/L Herlevi 2015

Light on Red-flowering Currant, March 26/2015

Validation is nice

A friend was telling me she (and another mutual friend) were at the Sibelius concert.  She said we sounded good (both with the symphony and out in the lobby.)  Nice validation, you don't always get feedback, I do a lot of choral singing, I don't do it for the validation, but you know...it's nice to get it anyway.  (Also, most of the time, you haven't a clue what you sound like as a whole; in most rooms, you can't hear it.  When we sang in the lobby, I ended up way out on the end, and couldn't really hear any of the other parts.  I always enjoy when we move around in rehearsal either changing places, or once one of the directors had as all walk around the room and sing, both practices enabling the ability to hear the mix of all the voices.)  And sometimes this singing-creation-writing-performance-art thing, feels like existing in a vacuum; it's not just ego, we all need feedback and encouragement now and again.  I need it.

Went to this playwright group's reading of new short works (excerpts) last night.  All took place in a movie theatre.  Good writing, good acting.  (My favorite was the first one, where two people meet in a movie theatre because the man tells the woman that she is wearing his ex-friend's dress.  By the end you don't know if this is really the first time they are meeting, or if they are starting their relationship over.  That was a nice twist.  I think that was by Stephanie Timm.  The two other writers that presented work were Frank Basloe and Emily Conbere, I enjoyed all of it.)  It was closer to an actual performance than a staged reading; the actors sat in the theatre seats (rather than behind a stand), and though they were holding scripts, they interacted with one another, and looked up most of the time. (Not always the case.)  Took forever to get home.  Traffic had been backed up all afternoon, and the buses were still off schedule.  The bus I ended up eventually catching was 25 minutes late, but that worked for me (I thought it was early.)  Traffic was bad this morning as well.  Took 40 minutes to get to work. (Usually, it's about 15.)  Traffic wasn't moving much, and then there was an unannounced reroute.  Apparently, a road is closed.

Have a wicked headache, seems to be going around today.

More water pictures...still attracted to reflections.  Oh, and a duck.

Tree, March 25/L Herlevi 2015

Sky, March 25/L Herlevi 2015

Proud, March 25/L Herlevi 2015

More Clouds, March 25/L Herlevi 2015

Weather

A few shots from late afternoon, yesterday.  Insomnia.  I should just get up and write, it's almost 5 am.

Untitled, March 23/L Herlevi 2015

Corner of Light, March 23/L Herlevi 2015

Tree Angel, March 23/L Herlevi 2015

Untitled, March 23/L Herlevi 2015

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.

One

Batteries died yesterday, but still, this is the only picture from yesterday or today that excites me much.  The light and the camera weren't getting along, not sure why.  (And don't need any dental work after all, which is good; he just told me to stop grinding my teeth before I get a fracture.)  Looked up housing options, and there's really not much better than what I've got, so I'll probably stay one more year, after that, I don't know.  Different city?  Don't know.  Feeling somewhat disillusioned, it was a day of extremes (maybe it's the eve-of-the-full-moon-equinox-eclipse...or something.)

Here's the shot I like best of the bunch.  From today.

March 19/L Herlevi 2015

Wide awake during the eclipse, tried to stream it online, but didn't feel like joining the site with this computer. 

So, so awake.

No trees (here) today

In general, I'm solidly in the camp that says that you should not use your performance/acting as a form of catharsis.  And the thing I wrote about happened six years ago, sure there was a little rawness, but not in a bad way, I didn't think.  The piece kinda' wrote itself.  That said, I've been spending a lot of time (confronting would be too strong of a term) contemplating the dynamic of tyrants in my head, from wherever they have come from, and how I wasted so much of my time trying to be good enough to gain their approval, or at least avoid their wrath (which will never happen, it's an impossible task, especially since they became so embedded in my thoughts that they don't belong to anyone in particular anymore.)  And the thing is, even if it was never directed at me (with some of the sources of the voices, it was) I never fully trusted, I always thought there could be a sudden turning on me (hence, the cowering dog analogy).  And the wariness always seems to be present, even when there is no reason for it, i.e., whomever I'm around doesn't have that tendency.  Most people in my life do not have that tendency, and yet I am still drawn to those that do, as if, if I can find that magic key, everything will fall into place.  Chasing unicorns.  It won't.  (There have been both good and bad landlords, teachers, bosses, critiques, friends, etc.)  And one of the reasons it surprised me, was that I have confronted several of the sources in real life, I'd thought that was enough.  It gave me a backbone, but it didn't neutralize what was already there.

At any rate, since I wrote it, I've been finding a lot of information on dealing with it.  Even when it's been buried, it's no way to live.  I'm ready for the dynamic to change.

It was raining when I went to look at the trees.  Earlier, I had gone for a walk to see what the birds were up to.  There weren't very many (mostly N. Shovelers), but I did see one of those white-bellied swallows (or maybe it's a swift?) Might be a migratory bird.  Mostly, I took pictures of the asphalt.

Asphalt, March 17/L Herlevi 2015

Asphalt with spot, March 17/L Herlevi 2015

I have a dentist appointment in the morning.  I think I might have a chipped tooth or a cavity.  Ugh.  It will feel better if I stop avoiding it.

Late

Around three inches of rain over the weekend, depending on where you were.  Spent Sunday evening attempting to get places, missing buses, getting soaked, glad to finally be able to get home again, and dry.  It's raining again, now.  I fell asleep when I got home and am now wide awake.  The geese were calling out to each other a little while ago, but have quieted down.  Traffic and rain.  (Or my brain wanted to hear it, perhaps.  The ground mostly dry in the morning.  And I missed the Northern Lights again.)

Here are some pictures from earlier today.

Trees, March 16/L Herlevi 2015

Bicycle, March 16/L Herlevi 2015

Two Trees, March 16/L Herlevi 2015

Branches, March 16/L Herlevi 2015