Thursday

Venting out my frustration with shoes hurting my feet helped me to remember that in previous pairs of hiking boots, I laced them different.  So, trying that.  Feels like someone is sticking a knife in my foot, all shoes hurt now.  Hurts to be barefoot, too.  Irritated a nerve, I guess.  (Have had this problem before, though, different part of foot.)  I have time to break them in, but I want this pair to work, so that I can move on to other things.

Fingers crossed that I got into a Fringe show next month.  Tentative.  Working on a new scene, playing a 13 year-old that just found out she's pregnant.  (Loretta Lynn, "Coal Miner's Daughter.")  Had a bit of an epiphany as to her mindset when I woke up this morning.  Need to write it down before I forget.  When I read the first half of the screenplay, I'm just filled with sadness, thinking about her family, and a headstrong teenager who believes, "I know what is good for me, I know what I want, how no one else has ever felt this way before, and how I know what I'm doing.  You're old you don't understand."  Though, I wonder why her parents didn't protest more.  Her family loved her, fiercely, but didn't put up much of a barrier to her marrying Doo.  And she was wrong about what she thought she knew.  And he complains that she's not good at anything, but...yeah, man, she was basically still a child when he decided to marry her, what do you expect?

Anyway, still have a lot of work to do.   He always asks, "What is this scene about?"  And again, it's not about the obvious thing on the surface, it's not about the literal words.  What does each character want?  And how are they using the language to get it?  And why is this scene in the script, how does it serve the story?  Need to go over this more with my scene partner.  We went through it pretty fast in class.  I know where it turns, but it's not internal, yet.

Got a bunch of scripts I need to read (for monologues), plus the Fringe thing.  And yet, last night sat around and watched youtube videos about the medieval world.  Have started reading, Uta Hagen's, "A Challenge for the Actor,"  it's not the one suggested, "Respect for Acting," (which I also have), but I came across it in a used bookstore last week.  And I need to find something to wear for head shots.  And just remembered I have two singing gigs next Saturday.  Really need to keep a better calendar.

You gotta show up everyday and do the work you say you want to do.  And it's easy to make excuses not to do it.  Or think, "I'll do it later."  Later comes along, and there's always something easier to do in the moment.  What are the barriers, what are the internal conflicts that keep me from showing up?

And then, "on paper" some things don't make sense, and it should be, "move along, nothing to see here," and yet...I've stopped anyway.

Tunnel vision

Feel like I'm treading water, and have been for a while.  Never seem to even know what day it is anymore.  And I feel out of touch with people, even though, I've had more "real" conversations with people in the past week than I have in a long while (ran into someone I'd had a fallen out of touch with, outside a grocery store, and we sat and talked for almost two hours, for one, but not the only).  I think I'm trying to block out all the negativity that's in the media, and flooding my inbox.

And then there's the film class, which is the highlight of my week, and one of the best decisions I've made in a while.  The genuine support for us to be successful is somewhat staggering, can't remember the last time I've had that, if ever.  (Maybe in elementary school or junior high?)  And it's practical, i.e., I asked for monologue ideas, and he sent me 20-30.  And the feedback is helpful, and said in a way I can hear it and accept it and do something about it.  Again, it's practical, so, useful.

We filmed our scenes last night.  Went better than it felt, but I didn't do enough beat work, and I should've gone with my first instincts...but, something to work on going forward.  (I enjoyed working with my scene partner.)  We are getting new scenes/partners for next week.  And I need to start reading the scripts the monologues are from, and book a head-shot session, or at least make contact.  The photographer I had been hoping to work with just stopped doing them, so I'll have to choose someone else.

The Meisner group has ended for the time being, mostly it was just the two of us showing up.  Fine with me, I was starting to have an aversion to it, which initially I put down to my usual anxiety, but since I don't feel that for the film class, maybe it was real.

Saw the show the actor gave me the discount code to, "A Winter's Tale" at Seattle Shakespeare.  All-around pretty stellar, great cast, great choreography (especially the fighting), and everyone had a solid grasp on the language.  Would recommend.  (We went out for a drink before I had to go to the Meisner group.  He seems cool, I made an ass of myself, though, nervous and talking too much.)

Woke up early to go to a "grand opening" of a Bartell's in the ID on Saturday.  Didn't get there in time (still, somehow made it out of the house before I ever seem to on a weekday.)  They were giving away gift cards to the first 200 people.  Apparently, those went really fast, one was for $500.  Heard they would be doing some other give away at 10 am, and wandered around and ate ice cream, and then had coffee, since they sell both (along with growlers of beer) at that location.  Didn't buy beer.  Chatted with other people hanging around.  Got my box of things, and left.  The wind had kicked up, blowing through a construction site, the air full of swirling bits of insulation that had ripped free.

Found myself at the waterfall park in Pioneer Square.  Have only ever been there three times.  The first was in the late 80's, I'd moved to Bellingham, but had driven back to contest a parking ticket.  I remember my father saying that it was hardly worth the gas money, and I said something about "the principle of the thing."  They almost always dropped or halved the amount if you bothered to show up.  Anyway, was just gonna walk through, but found myself mesmerized by the sound of the water crashing down.  Stood there for 20 minutes, suddenly felt emotional, and tried to stay with it, but couldn't place where it was coming from.

Walked to Occidental park, people were setting up for a block party.  Someone had left a big sign of apology of flaunting privilege, and kicking the downtrodden out, and making life harder.  While I was reading that, someone shouted to me, offering me breakfast because someone was serving breakfast to the people in Pioneer Square.  It was one of the men I had been talking to in Bartell's.  I declined, but I thought the offer was sweet.

Haven't figured it out yet

I have no idea why this scene is in the screenplay, which might be why we got it:  a challenge.  There's a power shift happening, where, basically, Thelma didn't have any, or didn't exercise any, and Louise had been making decisions, calling the shots, but then once Thelma had JD, and then committed the armed-robbery (and found she was good at it), things started to shift.  She made decisions, and acted on them.  Right before this scene, the reason Louise won't go through Texas is revealed, both as a realization to Thelma, and the FBI/cop get the file.  (It can also be thought that if she had been willing to go through Texas, they might have escaped.  So, this carried more weight for her than escaping.)  After this scene, Louise is on the phone with the detective, and Thelma reaches over and ends the call, which to me, is when the power completely shifts over.  She wouldn't have had the idea or nerve to do that before.

The scene we're working on is about beef jerky and Wild Turkey, and a reiteration of why they didn't got to the police in the first place...except, it's not about that.  Them just words.  Something else is going on, but I haven't figured that out.  Because, with the exception of Thelma saying, "Thank you," to Louise, on the surface, it's the only scene which doesn't drive the plot forward.  Also, Thelma comes across as subservient, and given what has just happened, that doesn't make sense.  And we're first up tonight.

All this, digging into human nature, trying to feel what someone else feels, or thinks, is fun.

The What If

And then there is the existential angst that came up from class (and life, in general) this week, of "Do I want my life to change?"  Because if I act on the things I've been asked to, it will.  What then?  What do I want?  I need to take those first steps anyway, and I do have a choice.  Doing nothing is a choice, but that's not really working.  Yeah?  Yeah.

Stories

My sleep schedule is messed up, to put it mildly.  At any rate, I fell asleep early, then woke up some time during the 1 o'clock hour and decided I needed to re-read the screenplay, and also, try to format it to fit on fewer pages, so that I could print it and make notes on it.  That took until after 4 am, and I fell back asleep and then woke up from a dream ("Thelma and Louise" was somehow entwined in the dream) and sat straight up and said, "Oh, God, it's almost 8."  I was supposed to be somewhere at 8:30.  I did make it.  More of the interview project I'm working on, and I had to be on camera today, so I felt like I wanted to wash my hair.  It went well.  At least one person I wanted to keep interviewing, on tangential subjects, but didn't have the time.

This project is more targeted than the one I still want: I want to hear about people's lives, oral histories while they are still alive.  All of which stems from going to a lot of memorial services and realizing how little we really know the people in our lives.  How we only know them at the stage of life where we interact, but they have this whole other history that made them who they are.  Part of it is that I feel we are all so quick to judge one another, especially people we've never met, as if we have some authority, and we know so little about anyone.  But knowing someone takes effort.  Putting a label on someone, or a whole group of someones, is easier, because then we have a box where we "understand" and can move onto the next thing.  I get it, we're busy, have other things to do.  But we're also complicated, we want someone to be all bad or all good, but none of us are that.  Anyway, I''m not asking those questions (much) right now, I'm supposed to be following a script (for editing purposes), but some people want to go off script, and some people I want to go off-script with.  And it all might be cut, but at least I got to have the conversation with them once.  (I'm conducting the interviews, for most of it.)

As far as the screenplay goes, I am liking the story more.  And since I had the option to choose, I chose Thelma because she's the one I'd be least likely to be cast as, so it's more of a challenge.  I think we all have the seeds of the characters within us, it's a matter of accessing it.  And what I have of her in me, is repressed, so...it'll be a challenge.  I like the characters, it's just the whole "women have to be saints, or sinners" thing, that they had to die to win.  I do get why that happens in the story.  For Thelma, once she was "free" going back to her old life wasn't an option.  It was more of the larger options for women that bothered me.

I've also heard that the original ending didn't have them die, but at some point in the process it was decided that that was the ending that was called for.  And escape doesn't make sense, not in the context of the rest of the story.

Anyway, got a lot of work to do.  And I need to read another play, and deal with groceries/cooking.  And god, is it gorgeous out today.  (I can take ol' Bill to the park, but I'm waiting for laundry.)

Of all the scripts in the world

Ha! I was assigned "Thelma and Louise."  That's an ironic form of awesome.

Back to Life

Back to doing more acting (formalized) training after a mostly stagnant (black hole of a) summer.  Makes me excited about life again.  The idea came up from two others tonight, and for me last week in the Meisner group:  "Why is some past failure keeping us stuck?"  That super-introverted, terrified, 12-year old who was unprepared to give a speech, and just stood there and stared back at her classmates doesn't have to define me...and yet, always comes back to this.  And I tell myself that I didn't actually know how to write a speech, it's not like we were given any instructions on how to step-by-step create one...I don't know, maybe I missed that year, or class or whatever, but I didn't know how to start.  At least I know it's a trigger.  Telling myself I can learn, using logic on it, doesn't exercise the ghost.

And the thing is, you can learn.  You can break it down to the bones and build it back up.  That's what Meisner was for (as far as acting goes.)  (And on that note, I need to find my notes on working with text, since we have to prep a scene/character before next week.)  And getting over all this, this being in front of people, this saying something, was why I started taking acting classes in college, though deep down, perhaps I always wanted to be an actor, a performer, I just didn't think I had the talent.  I probably didn't.  (And talent can also be a burden, what if you are naturally good at something, so you don't try something outside that realm that you might like, or if you don't want to pursue the talent, but feel a pressure to, because, "Oh, but you're so gifted!")  But again, it's more about learning how to work, and then doing the work, and showing up and failing, and learning, and showing up and failing, and learning, and growing, and getting better, than it is about innate talent.

And yet our culture has a bias against failure; the whole idea that failure makes you "a loser."  And we live in fear of being seen as a loser.  How many times have we held back because of that fear?  The fear of incompetence, of being found out, of being judged.  Most of us won't know we can be good at something we've never done before, or that if we do the work, that we can get good at it.  At some point, you just give it a shot.  And lately, I find myself cowering, guarded, holding back.  I wasn't always like this.  I was once more gutsy, cared less about being judged and found lacking.  Someone has said they've finally learned to cut the negative voices out of their life, to only be with those that challenge you to be better, or that lift you up.  Although that's harder to do when you've internalized the voice, let it hold a seat of power without questioning its right be be there.

Just a matter of doing the work, to eventually prove that voice, that memory wrong.  Wrong about defining me.  Wrong about defeating me before I even start.  Wrong to make up excuses and live in fear.

Oh, and we're all supposed to go out and get ourselves an agent by the end of the eight weeks.  Which means, I have to stop making excuses and cough up the money for head-shots.  Stop making excuses.

Monday

Trains, planes, and automobiles...or something like that, throw in an Uber, a taxi, and one of those rental bikes, and I'd be covered.  Had an appointment for my ankle "popping" this morning, and just missed the bus that went direct, so ran across the street, caught a bus to the light rail, light rail to Cap Hill, and trolley to the stop nearest the doctor's office.  Only about a minute late.  Have an ankle brace I need to wear for a month, and stabilizing/balancing exercises.  Have the option of getting new orthodics, but he said the old ones are holding up pretty well, so might not.  It probably wouldn't get worse, but I'm planning a trek in the spring, and I want to be as well as possible.  I don't feel like the brace actually supports my ankle all that much.  I have seven months to get it together.  Yeah, it's pretty much Spain, again, at this point.  Already there in my head.  I don't know why I get dates, but I do, had no intention of ever going again, until a couple weeks ago.  Will probably do the Pyrenees crossing, if the weather is good, and not sure after that.  Probably only taking 3 weeks (I'll have 8 weeks of vacation by that point, because I never take it, but it's not reasonable to take that much time off of work.)

Worked at 14/48 all day Saturday (food stuff), another friend drove me to a bus stop after the first run, it was at a park, no where near any buses.  And it was late.  This actor whose work I like introduced himself to me, and he's in a show and asked for me email so he could send me a discount code.  (I said something about really liking his work, and wanting to see him in something else.  I was basically gushing, like an idiot, but I'd been talking to someone else about it, and then he showed up, so why not?)  Not a big deal if he doesn't, I wrote on a scrap of paper, and if he even finds it later, he'll probably wonder why he has it, and what it was.

My sister is in town, staying with a friend, until she can move into her new place later this week.  Saw her yesterday, we wandered around in the ravine.  I wanted to walk to the far end, as I hadn't been there in a while.  I guess it was a long while (although 3 years max), there is now a forest along the stream...didn't recognize it at all, it's like a different park.

The singing gig went well.  The acoustics in the museum were wonderful...the kinda' place where you can hear your own voice come back at you, and it sounds good.  We got stuck in traffic driving down, so my ride decided to avoid the freeway coming back and we caught the Southworth ferry.  I'd never been either to Gig Harbor or Southworth before, so it was sorta' like a vacation.  At least I got out of town.  And the ferry was cool, since it has two stops, they load the cars facing different directions, some of which drove forward and then turned around, and some of which backed onto the ferry.  They must do that on other multi-stop ferries, but I'd never noticed it before.  Gig Harbor is beautiful, and it was a lot cooler out there, than in the city.  That was the hottest day of the summer.  I think both the choirs start up again for real after Labor Day.

Enjoying the free evenings, those are going away soon.

Just heard Gene Wilder died, man, I loved him...there was something lovely, kind, and (as someone else pointed out) sadistic, about the old school comedic actors that you really don't see anymore.  There was a sting and a truth, but it was never vicious.  RIP.

Sunday night

There's a cool breeze blowing through the window.  When I walked to the store at 9:30, it was already dark.  Still warm, but much cooler than yesterday, overcast, and when I'd gotten off the bus earlier, trying to rain a little.  I was wishing that would happen, but it stopped.

Walking to the bus stop after Meisner, I decided to walk a block further than usual, before turning.  There was commotion in front of me, at the door of a restaurant, some form of altercation, with two people storming off.  When I passed the entrance, a woman was saying something and I turned to look, and the people who had left, had shoved a tall, and heavy, planter in front of the door, blocking anyone else from exiting.  I walked over to try to move it, but it's heavy.  A man who works there, somehow squeezed out and tried to chase them, yelling at them for a confrontation, the woman kept asking him to stop.  By this point, two other people had turned around and joined in to help move the planter.  I don't know what happened, from the bits of conversation, and the fact that the man from the restaurant was trying to chase them, I'm guessing they also didn't pay.  At any rate, the other two managed to move the planter, and I continued on toward my bus.

Only two of us showed up.  We did a lot of warm-ups, which I don't do enough of.  Sometimes they seem frivolous in my head (they aren't), and I don't always know what to do on my own.  I asked him if he had any good vocal warm-ups, so we did those (and he gave me a name of someone.)  And then we did the "I feel," exercise, one round of chair work, and another acting exercise that I've done a lot, but for some reason, at the end of my turn, I was wondering why we do it in acting, and by the end of his turn I had my answer.  (Blind sensory experience.)

Some things I want to remember:  why do I need permission?  I feel like I'm waiting for it.  It's okay to take up space (and that means the right to be heard, the right to be on stage, the right to speak my mind, the right to have ideas, etc., not necessarily just physical space.)  It's all about connection and imagination, and I don't need approval first (and why is this an issue?)  Let myself be seen (and look at the other person.  An observation.)  Acting is being truthful, and it's important to let the guard down, the guard you mostly have to have up in everyday life.

And all of this is why regular practice is good.

Enjoying what breeze I can get

Something Like Summer, August 11/L Herlevi 2016

The hot breeze is better than no breeze, though I did have to re-drop one of my window blinds, as the breeze was not strong enough to overcome the heat from the late afternoon sunlight still streaming in.  On the whole though, slightly more pleasant than yesterday.  This being the hottest day of the year thus far.

 Took a detour on the way home, via grocery store, iced coffee stop, the lake.  The lake is packed, people strewn across the sand, paddleboards/boats plying the water; can't remember last time I witnessed that (back in the 80's?  I rarely go to the beach.)  And then I remember that we're coming into the last hurrah of summer, since schools are already gearing up to start, two more weeks.  When I was in high school, we'd already have started sports practices by now, at least unofficially (ran x-country.)  And at the lake, the earlier treatment has worked to keep the toxic algae at bay, so the water is cleaner; over the past few summers, it would've been pretty smelly and soup-like by now.

Tomorrow, the choir has a singing engagement mid-day, out on the Peninsula.  I mentioned it would be in the 90's, but wasn't able to persuade anyone to not wear the traditional costumes, which are heavy and wool.  There will be air-conditioning in the building, but still, 90 degrees, in a heavy wool dress won't be a lot of fun.  Will have to stay hydrated, I guess.  I've taken to carrying water on stage already, my throat gets really dry from all the high singing.  And our set is 30-35 minutes.

Last week, went to a free, outside, dance performance.  I sorta' saw two of the groups, but the crowds were much greater than the organizers were expecting (someone mentioned to me that they usually get 800 or so people, and it was in the 1,000's) so it was hard to see the groups in the more enclosed spaces.  A lovely evening to be out, so watched the sailboats chase each other across the water, marauding hoards about to make landfall (in my imagination), and walked down to the beach to sit for a while, watch the sunset.  On the way to the bus stop, saw a tv in a bar showing the Olympics (gymanstics), so stopped in and ate tacos.  As it got darker, went to catch my bus.  Had a bit of a wait, so sat on a bench and looked at the pictures in my camera.  A succession of people sat beside me, the last of which was breathing heavily.  When I glanced over, he had a lighter in his hand and started smoking something (no idea what it was.)  He saw me looking at him, and offered it to me, I declined, but there was something rather considerate in the offer.  His breathing calmed down, and whatever it was, it didn't make him agitated in any way, so I stayed.

Saturday, made it out to the "Out of Sight" art exhibit at the King Street Station.  Only open on weekends, through the end of the month.  It's up on the top floor, second year.  I love the space.  I love that there are huge works of art that can be site specific.  And I'm saddened to hear that the current plans for the space are for offices.  Seems like a shame to me (and I guess I should go to the next public hearing).  Artists have lost a lot of space in the city, whether that be from buildings being torn down or converted to office/condo/overpriced apartments, etc., that I hate to see this space have the same fate.  There is a lot of vacant office space, not a lot of vacant space for artists to work (especially photographers, where the high ceilings and natural light are more of a factor.)

Stopped by the Seattle Yukon Museum.  Haven't been there in ages.  They run a 25 minute film on Seattle and the Gold Rush.  I was slightly amused to notice there were more people in that theatre than in some movies I've gone to (30 or so?)

Reminded me of a long (dormant, as of late) fascination I've had with the Yukon Territory.  I should probably go soon.  I decided earlier in the week that I'll take a vacation in April of next year.  Will give me a few months to save.  Spain or Quebec, depends on airfare, and I can stay longer in Spain for the same amount of money as Quebec.  So, no Yukon, yet (and I want to go there in the winter.)  That'll be about five years since I've taken a vacation.  Right now, I have tuition coming due, so have to figure that one out.

Too hot now, to remain in the attic.  And my skin is burning: seemed to have become an insect magnet.