OK FINE! God, I feel like screaming both exasperatedly and joyously. There's been so much bottled up energy inside of me, a fire kindled by a girl, and I want to let it all out. I want her to be the recipient, but ALAS, not yet. Not ever. Not ever like I expect it. My expectations will be shattered, I'll be shattered. That's what I predict. And YET, is that not expectation? I crave her, I want her. I want ease with her. Impossible, with this mindset. How fascinating and infuriating that it's come to this again. Thoughts of her consume me. Self pity for why am I not good enough. Not enough. For her. She cares for me, though. She wants me, to some degree. We mutually have a fantasy of togetherness, and that is a dangerous thing. Hope. Ah, hope. You torment. I want to manipulate the fates, I want to LOCK IT DOWN with her. Right now. I want to say, HEY! I want you with me. Please come to me. I want to fully bare my soul to you, and see if that intimacy can be shared between us. If not, fine. But at least we will KNOW! Does that trick ever work? There's a knowing in me that she's not the one. And she's actively burning lessons into me regardless. As they all have. I feel foolish for being so consumed. I feel closed-off from much of the rest of life because I'm waiting, waiting, waiting. Hoping, hoping, hoping. Imagining, fantasizing, praying. It's desperate. And I cannot unleash all of this onto her, it would drive her away. But, curiously, when we're engaged in one another, talking, sharing, this need in me goes away. Ease comes in, because I'm getting her attention. Is that the reason? Because I'm getting a piece of her inner self. She's showing me a piece of her inner self. And that's exactly what I want, and what I crave. It may only be given though, it cannot necessarily be requested. For her, a passing fancy. For me, a burning fantasy. Dangerous, each. Or not! There's this feeling that if I only knew. If I only knew what she thought, what she wanted from me, what she wants for herself, I'd be free. I don't think it's totally true. And I've been here before, wondering what "she" is thinking, and how to place myself into the "what she is thinking about" slot in her brain. Is there anything in her that wants to sort this out, like I do?
THAT is a good question. THAT seems a worthwhile question to ask. Is there anything in you that wants to see what there is between you and me? And how do we do that? We get to decide how. A plan, of sorts. Maybe. I want a week. Together in some cabin or some house. With our own lives to tend to, or not, but our main goal is feeling each other out. Nurturing, caressing the thing that's between us. Poking at it, coming together physically to get that out of the way, ease my obsession. Will it? Maybe, maybe not. It will, at least temporarily. And maybe that temporary space holds lessons that could sustain for longer. I'm tired of doing the math: Ok, she is listening to this song, so that means she might be feeling this, so I should text her something about this, so I should mention this, and I shouldn't mention this, or if I drink before I talk to her I can more honestly flow and not mind so much that she doesn't reflect back to me the energy I crave, as in the serious longing, the inquisitive flirtation, the want to nuzzle, nestle. I don't like trying to figure her out. It's not going to be possible.
If I let this go,
as I should
as I should.
Will it make me better?
Will it make me good?
My need for simplicity may soon eclipse my desire for fulfillment from her. My desire for intimacy from her. Logic: "She's just some girl, what's the big deal." Heart: "She's magic. She's fascinating. She's pretty." Dick: "Her skin, her curves, her smell." God, I'd love to squirm in this thrashing confusion WITH her instead of solo.
Sunday, September 30, 2018
Saturday, April 7, 2018
Buzzin
This is a coffee-fueled post. That's a disclaimer to my future self. This current self has a sense of jittery clarity, and GOD have I wanted a sense of clarity for a long time.
I just feel like the life I've been living, my actions, are purposefully holding me back. Coffee is the perfect example. I reach for quick highs (coffee, sex, fried food, facebook, facebook, dates, youtube, flirting, Tinder, facebook, netflix, beer, booze) and do not allow myself to be bored or unstimulated. I wonder if that has made me less able to be stimulated by normal amazing life.
Traditional wisdom tells me that these are tactics to avoid facing reality. FACING REALITY seems harsh. What's there to face? What huge earth-shattering drama is there? NOTHING! My life is good. The stage is set for success. I've got talent, I've got humor, I've got friends, I've got love, I've got food. A high school Social Studies teacher once, when advising us it's stupid not to study for a test, said "See your foot? SHOOT IT!" What an image. Literally shooting your foot before taking a step.
Sex obsession is a real thing for me. A lot of the time it has echoes of a younger me, dreaming and fantasizing about having sex for the first time, of being with someone who wants me, loves me, craves me. Sexual energy is life force is CREATIVITIY! If I'm giving SO much energy to sex, it might be diminishing my creative juices!
It is SO clear with facebook and the internet in general that it's been designed to keep me distracted. The thing that gets my attention is the thing that makes money. A contented, entertained, person will not create. Not create a problem, not create a solution, not create a work of art. Perhaps not to its full potential anyway. YET pouring myself into creativity alone (i.e. big, huge projects I've tried to will into existence) leaves me burnt out. BUT I am not doing myself true favors by drinking, chasing sex, etc.
I flashed an image of myself going sober and celibate for a small period of time, seeing what happens. There's nothing to lose. It is self imposed, so it's different from societally imposed (i.e. Thou Shalt Not Have Sex). Perhaps I'd have a greater capacity to take life as it comes, not feel this ANXIOUS PRESSURE I've been feeling lately. I seek to relieve that pressure SOMETIMES with alcohol, coffee, etc. Or just generally AVOIDING myself. Will that anxiety lessen without minus substances and plus physical activity? Almost certainly.
I want to go into the summer with a clear mind and open heart. Much of my actions have maintained a stasis. Definitely swimming, but never fully diving. Not sure what that means. I want to LIKE myself more. I want to TRUST myself more. I want to "look myself in the eye in the mirror" and love myself more. I want to sleep sounder. I want to avoid less. And when I DO avoid, I want to notice and accept and NOT JUDGE IT.
That is, truly, the big big key. Judgement. I set goals (give up coffee, write more, don't waste time) when I notice I'm doing it, the FIRST instinct is to feel bad about myself. Then I want to avoid that feeling, so I quickly flip on the radio or go to a dating site, and soon I'm engrossed in something and not feeling bad about my self. What a cycle! I drive a lot these days ("Why are you driving so much, get a bike, take public transit, you told yourself you'd walk more even if you drove a lot, you're not doing it, plus your car is a mess, of course your car is a mess, you can't clean it, not to mention it's falling apart, but of course you won't fix it, even though it might break down, you should be doing all you possibly can to make sure your car is in good shape, then you could even sell it because you are broke, of course, because you don't handle your money, but why should you? money doesn't matter, and you've got enough to survive most of the time, and what does survival even mean, you're not on the street, even if you had zero dollars, you would have options, there are people without options, give them your stupid money, you don't need it, you have a car, give them rides, create a company that gives rides to people, what else are you doing with your time, you're supposed to be an artist and you are not truly making art, you are barely committed to "art," you have all the time in the world, but look at you, you are choosing to waste it...........").
It all comes. Some days it won't stop, but it doesn't feel crippling. It feels like background noise. At times, it does feel paralyzing. I freeze sometimes. I may be moving, may be acting like it's fine, but inside there is an anxious, jumpy, stuck feeling.
Who are you really?
Are you showing that to your friends?
Are you showing that to the world?
Are you showing that to yourself?
I just feel like the life I've been living, my actions, are purposefully holding me back. Coffee is the perfect example. I reach for quick highs (coffee, sex, fried food, facebook, facebook, dates, youtube, flirting, Tinder, facebook, netflix, beer, booze) and do not allow myself to be bored or unstimulated. I wonder if that has made me less able to be stimulated by normal amazing life.
Traditional wisdom tells me that these are tactics to avoid facing reality. FACING REALITY seems harsh. What's there to face? What huge earth-shattering drama is there? NOTHING! My life is good. The stage is set for success. I've got talent, I've got humor, I've got friends, I've got love, I've got food. A high school Social Studies teacher once, when advising us it's stupid not to study for a test, said "See your foot? SHOOT IT!" What an image. Literally shooting your foot before taking a step.
Sex obsession is a real thing for me. A lot of the time it has echoes of a younger me, dreaming and fantasizing about having sex for the first time, of being with someone who wants me, loves me, craves me. Sexual energy is life force is CREATIVITIY! If I'm giving SO much energy to sex, it might be diminishing my creative juices!
It is SO clear with facebook and the internet in general that it's been designed to keep me distracted. The thing that gets my attention is the thing that makes money. A contented, entertained, person will not create. Not create a problem, not create a solution, not create a work of art. Perhaps not to its full potential anyway. YET pouring myself into creativity alone (i.e. big, huge projects I've tried to will into existence) leaves me burnt out. BUT I am not doing myself true favors by drinking, chasing sex, etc.
I flashed an image of myself going sober and celibate for a small period of time, seeing what happens. There's nothing to lose. It is self imposed, so it's different from societally imposed (i.e. Thou Shalt Not Have Sex). Perhaps I'd have a greater capacity to take life as it comes, not feel this ANXIOUS PRESSURE I've been feeling lately. I seek to relieve that pressure SOMETIMES with alcohol, coffee, etc. Or just generally AVOIDING myself. Will that anxiety lessen without minus substances and plus physical activity? Almost certainly.
I want to go into the summer with a clear mind and open heart. Much of my actions have maintained a stasis. Definitely swimming, but never fully diving. Not sure what that means. I want to LIKE myself more. I want to TRUST myself more. I want to "look myself in the eye in the mirror" and love myself more. I want to sleep sounder. I want to avoid less. And when I DO avoid, I want to notice and accept and NOT JUDGE IT.
That is, truly, the big big key. Judgement. I set goals (give up coffee, write more, don't waste time) when I notice I'm doing it, the FIRST instinct is to feel bad about myself. Then I want to avoid that feeling, so I quickly flip on the radio or go to a dating site, and soon I'm engrossed in something and not feeling bad about my self. What a cycle! I drive a lot these days ("Why are you driving so much, get a bike, take public transit, you told yourself you'd walk more even if you drove a lot, you're not doing it, plus your car is a mess, of course your car is a mess, you can't clean it, not to mention it's falling apart, but of course you won't fix it, even though it might break down, you should be doing all you possibly can to make sure your car is in good shape, then you could even sell it because you are broke, of course, because you don't handle your money, but why should you? money doesn't matter, and you've got enough to survive most of the time, and what does survival even mean, you're not on the street, even if you had zero dollars, you would have options, there are people without options, give them your stupid money, you don't need it, you have a car, give them rides, create a company that gives rides to people, what else are you doing with your time, you're supposed to be an artist and you are not truly making art, you are barely committed to "art," you have all the time in the world, but look at you, you are choosing to waste it...........").
It all comes. Some days it won't stop, but it doesn't feel crippling. It feels like background noise. At times, it does feel paralyzing. I freeze sometimes. I may be moving, may be acting like it's fine, but inside there is an anxious, jumpy, stuck feeling.
Who are you really?
Are you showing that to your friends?
Are you showing that to the world?
Are you showing that to yourself?
Tuesday, January 9, 2018
Come Alive
What up, 2018!(?) I've been pondering what makes me come alive, trying to steer myself in the direction of things that tend to light me up. This past year it's felt really fucking hard to identify the things that light me up. More frighteningly, it's felt easier to live a complacent lifestyle. I can feel my age for the first time. It FEELS like I'm not 22 anymore. I truly feel like I lost a few years there, that they slipped by somehow, without feeling significant. I think that just sort of happens as we get older, but also, FUCK that. I've been acting as if I've only got a few good years left on this earth. If that's true, and I haven't done that BIG FUCKING HUGE FANTASTICAL AMAZING THING, then I will have died a failure. Died a nobody. Died a person who was beloved by friends and family, and REALLY wanted to make special things.... but ultimately didn't.
ALL OF THAT is not true. My BRAIN nudges me toward that though, as a reality. It is bizarre and... well... it just IS. What it is. It is what it is. No reason to judge, I suppose, but WHY would my brain go there?? So, when I say I'm feeling my age, I mean, my body is less responsive. I go up stairs two-at-a-time like always and there's less spring in my step. It means I need to ACTIVELY do things to maintain my body. Stretch. Yoga. Weight lifting. Running.
ALL OF THAT is not true. My BRAIN nudges me toward that though, as a reality. It is bizarre and... well... it just IS. What it is. It is what it is. No reason to judge, I suppose, but WHY would my brain go there?? So, when I say I'm feeling my age, I mean, my body is less responsive. I go up stairs two-at-a-time like always and there's less spring in my step. It means I need to ACTIVELY do things to maintain my body. Stretch. Yoga. Weight lifting. Running.
Hugh Jackman is a hero of mine. Part of me knows I could be just like him. I could have his body. Not his EXACT body, but close. I don't gain weight. STUPID high metabolism. But if it became my focus, my body would allow me to push it. To gain muscle. To get bigger, stronger. More than that, I want FLEXIBILITY. And have not been working for it. Still want it. OK, I went off on a beautiful little tangent there.
Here are some things that light me up.
1. Musical Theater Moments. Musical Spectacle Moments. Music Video Moments. I watched "The Greatest Showman" twice, and I love sequences with sweeping camera, ensemble dancing, and a full-on presentation. It LIGHTS ME UP to witness a song come to a crescendo, coupled with visuals. Like when I was working on my "Dustbowl Dance" music video... the whole thing culminated in one slow motion walk across a drawbridge.
2. Hugs. Physical affection has been lacking for me, because there aren't as many people around whom it is appropriate. In college, everybody hugged each other. I hug family members. I hug friends I haven't seen for a while. In a dance class in high school, everyone hugged everyone after every class. Now I'm being told, that makes some people uncomfortable. Maybe. I crave it. Truly crave that connection. A good hug lifts me, tugs the burdens off my shoulders for a moment, and I want it to be less rare. It just fucking vanished somehow.
3. Shakespeare. It's still true, after all these years, that I love interpreting Shakespeare. It is FASCINATING to me to present TRUTH in seemingly archaic language. It's SUCH a worthy challenge to me. And I think that extends out into a vision of SHAKESPEARE done in ways that feel more and more accessible. Like, a Romeo and Juliet that takes place on a bus.
4. Intimate connection. Sharing myself with others, intimately. My fears, hopes, dreams. Talking to Matt on the phone when we've both got nowhere else to be. Holding Christina and just enjoying the energy between us. I've gotten wires crossed there... "is this someone I want to marry and be with forever??".... NO! No no no no no no no no no no no no no no. HOWEVER, this is someone I truly hope to be intimately connected to forever.
5. Listening to "The Greatest Showman." Listening to "Hamilton." There's a part of me that is IN that world, still & always.
6. Singing a gentle song, powerfully. Letting it shine through me.
7. Tig Nataro, Sarah Silverman, Dave Chapelle.... comedians working at the top of their game.
8. MYSTERIOUS podcasts. Worlds I can dive into by listening to stories about the people who live in them.
THERE YOU GO! There's a few. Fucking fuck everything else.
Thursday, May 11, 2017
And tonight, everything's okay.
For some reason, or for no reason, tonight everything's okay. I feel lonely but not alone. Rather, the other way around. Nothing needs to be better. Life can just be tonight. I put a lot of pressure on life to straighten out and make more sense. But life does not care about me. It is indifferent. Life will always flow, will always grow, regardless of my will. "Life finds a way" (Thanks Jeff Goldblum).
I can just allow it. Slip into its stream and let it shape me. Tonight in the car I wqs listening to Christian radio. It seems for Christians, they have that notion, but use "God" or "Jesus" as their touchstones. I silently beg the universe for blazes of inspiration that will carry me to greater heights of fulfillment and clarity. A voice in my head says "Ain't no inspiration gonna come, you gotta work. You gotta earn it." I'm tired of my words, like corrals trying to put sensible boundaries around life. Life's quieter, subtler than words. A woman laughed in the hall just now. Laughing sounds like dancing, like jumping.
Today I reflected on unity. Community. Common unity. Hm. Uni-ty. One-something. One from many? Etymology is great. I thought of the notion of "my people" and finding a tribe. Maybe I just need to stop looking. I thought of those weeks in the woods, with others, making something frivolous together. But it was validated and backed by guests and ticket sales and money.
A big sigh came in just now. As my thoughts said "but what about now? What about THE PROJECT you are angstily toiling at." Big sigh. Because it feels hard. It feels not right. It feels like if it were right it would be less hard. Yet with Ry, talking, sharing excitement at the possibility of something new, something wondrous, something magical, something unifying, it's exciting. There is a crack of light. Of purpose?
And yet, life, and its begging of me to slow down and let go and give and love. And live. Can these two things coexist? The ease of true life and the push of new life?
Dance, great mystery, dance. The native people call god Great Mystery, or something like that. I like the notion that Mystery itself is worshipful.
My computer died. These are tools. As I compare new options for computers, something in me knows the computer swallows my time. I will get a typewriter. Why not? Wow. The notion that a thing sits stationary (stationary, ha!) and awaits my typing. Awaits words. Hmm.
Tonight, everything is exactly ok. I am warm and safe, my loved ones (god willing) are warm and safe. They're sad and happy. They're laughing, they're lonely. They're questioning, they're content. They're tired, they're wired. They're worried, they're certain. They're here, they're gone. They're ok. Please let them be as ok as me.
I can just allow it. Slip into its stream and let it shape me. Tonight in the car I wqs listening to Christian radio. It seems for Christians, they have that notion, but use "God" or "Jesus" as their touchstones. I silently beg the universe for blazes of inspiration that will carry me to greater heights of fulfillment and clarity. A voice in my head says "Ain't no inspiration gonna come, you gotta work. You gotta earn it." I'm tired of my words, like corrals trying to put sensible boundaries around life. Life's quieter, subtler than words. A woman laughed in the hall just now. Laughing sounds like dancing, like jumping.
Today I reflected on unity. Community. Common unity. Hm. Uni-ty. One-something. One from many? Etymology is great. I thought of the notion of "my people" and finding a tribe. Maybe I just need to stop looking. I thought of those weeks in the woods, with others, making something frivolous together. But it was validated and backed by guests and ticket sales and money.
A big sigh came in just now. As my thoughts said "but what about now? What about THE PROJECT you are angstily toiling at." Big sigh. Because it feels hard. It feels not right. It feels like if it were right it would be less hard. Yet with Ry, talking, sharing excitement at the possibility of something new, something wondrous, something magical, something unifying, it's exciting. There is a crack of light. Of purpose?
And yet, life, and its begging of me to slow down and let go and give and love. And live. Can these two things coexist? The ease of true life and the push of new life?
Dance, great mystery, dance. The native people call god Great Mystery, or something like that. I like the notion that Mystery itself is worshipful.
My computer died. These are tools. As I compare new options for computers, something in me knows the computer swallows my time. I will get a typewriter. Why not? Wow. The notion that a thing sits stationary (stationary, ha!) and awaits my typing. Awaits words. Hmm.
Tonight, everything is exactly ok. I am warm and safe, my loved ones (god willing) are warm and safe. They're sad and happy. They're laughing, they're lonely. They're questioning, they're content. They're tired, they're wired. They're worried, they're certain. They're here, they're gone. They're ok. Please let them be as ok as me.
Thursday, June 23, 2016
Sadly beautiful/beautifully sad.
Sadly beautiful and beautifully sad. That was the story I just read. A man chronicling the rise and fall, life and death, of a marriage. It hit me profoundly. I've been living a hollow life for a while here. Punctuated by bursts of light, rays of love. I think of past relationships. I refuse to believe that they were meant to end in sadness, and that that sadness drowns out the joy. Like a song I wrote:
"Cry your tears, go on and cry them.
Don't fight your fears, you can't deny them.
Yes there is pain, but you'll be smiling.
And the sun will shine again.
You can't have one without the other
Yes there is joy in sorrow, brother.
It only hurts because you loved her.
And that was something real"
GOD there's actual twinges of pain in my head and right ear. Ear infection? Fever? Annoying. The human body is a jerk. Sometimes. But is beautiful. Mine seeks to tell me truths, give me input. I don't always care for his advice. He freaks out when I'm about to audition or perform or do an open mic. I say, "you're fine. There are no bears. There are no predators." He freaks out when I consider loving someone who is not easy for me to love. "It's ok. There are no bears." I appreciate its input. There's wisdom there, sure. I note it and move on.
I've lost touch with my Actor-Self, but remain content in thinking that he's never far away, and is always taking it all in and learning. The Craft of acting needs some work in me, but I think I needed a little hard-earned life experience. That phase feels like it's drawing to a close though, as I crave performance more.
I just feel so struck by that man's writings. I feel a brotherhood with him. He's a parallel universe me. Why have I always felt so connected to the sorrow of love? I love those moments in musicals, the bittersweet, the happy-sad, but ultimately OK.
Today, I saw Finding Dory and cried. I'm not surprised. And, not for the first time, I thought, I want to be a part of that kind of storytelling, that kind of work, that kind of creation. I always think, "Man, they are operating on some OTHER level. Their insights into humanity." It's not the predictable, comfortable of a movie. It is SO well done. They just dig in deeper, and tell their story more efficiently.
My Love Story. My Life Story. It's happening. I think of the women I've loved, who have loved me, and it's not a Capital (capitol?) L LOVE that I experience. It need not be. Love is love is love is love is love. It's an unending current, not an "I FOUND IT!" event. It comes, it goes, it never dies. I wonder at my crossing-wires between Love and Lust. And that Love seems easier to feel in the throes of passion, much of the time. That's ok. I'm alive. Even if now at this moment I'm a little hazy.
Today I am grateful for:
- Pizza. Its existence brings me such incredible joy. I could live without it, but right now, I am so happy for it.
- Pixar and the ability to cry at missing my family.
- Self-awareness. Even when I'm not nailing it, it's always just a little there.
"Cry your tears, go on and cry them.
Don't fight your fears, you can't deny them.
Yes there is pain, but you'll be smiling.
And the sun will shine again.
You can't have one without the other
Yes there is joy in sorrow, brother.
It only hurts because you loved her.
And that was something real"
GOD there's actual twinges of pain in my head and right ear. Ear infection? Fever? Annoying. The human body is a jerk. Sometimes. But is beautiful. Mine seeks to tell me truths, give me input. I don't always care for his advice. He freaks out when I'm about to audition or perform or do an open mic. I say, "you're fine. There are no bears. There are no predators." He freaks out when I consider loving someone who is not easy for me to love. "It's ok. There are no bears." I appreciate its input. There's wisdom there, sure. I note it and move on.
I've lost touch with my Actor-Self, but remain content in thinking that he's never far away, and is always taking it all in and learning. The Craft of acting needs some work in me, but I think I needed a little hard-earned life experience. That phase feels like it's drawing to a close though, as I crave performance more.
I just feel so struck by that man's writings. I feel a brotherhood with him. He's a parallel universe me. Why have I always felt so connected to the sorrow of love? I love those moments in musicals, the bittersweet, the happy-sad, but ultimately OK.
Today, I saw Finding Dory and cried. I'm not surprised. And, not for the first time, I thought, I want to be a part of that kind of storytelling, that kind of work, that kind of creation. I always think, "Man, they are operating on some OTHER level. Their insights into humanity." It's not the predictable, comfortable of a movie. It is SO well done. They just dig in deeper, and tell their story more efficiently.
My Love Story. My Life Story. It's happening. I think of the women I've loved, who have loved me, and it's not a Capital (capitol?) L LOVE that I experience. It need not be. Love is love is love is love is love. It's an unending current, not an "I FOUND IT!" event. It comes, it goes, it never dies. I wonder at my crossing-wires between Love and Lust. And that Love seems easier to feel in the throes of passion, much of the time. That's ok. I'm alive. Even if now at this moment I'm a little hazy.
Today I am grateful for:
- Pizza. Its existence brings me such incredible joy. I could live without it, but right now, I am so happy for it.
- Pixar and the ability to cry at missing my family.
- Self-awareness. Even when I'm not nailing it, it's always just a little there.
Wednesday, January 13, 2016
Couchsurfing Palace
An Artist's Haven.
I feel closer to the undercurrent energy of my "truer" self thrumming beneath the surface. This is a reminder. This is the version of me that I'm seeking to have more constant contact with. It is my base.
What does it feel like? It feels like whole foods, energy from the earth. It is quiet, still. It is not frenetic, though I put myself in a frenzy to find it. All day I've been driving while glancing at my phone. Distracted driving. Distracted from the boredom of a long highway. Not wishing to engage with the present. Eating sugar, driving fast, finding entertaining things to listen to.
This house is well put-together, it's got straight lines, and feels warm and inviting. I'm in Omaha, Nebraska staying in the guest bedroom of a man who hosts couch surfing folks. He's given me a greater gift than he knows. He's given me peace. From this place I can create.
I need to make for myself a haven. A clean place. In a clean town. Clean foods. Clean friends. Clean thoughts. Pure. Simple. I remember now those revelations. I want to live a full life, not a cobbled together actor's experience. Not borrowing space. Living. Not borrowing a job for a while. Living. Not borrowing a character for a while, living that character. Expanding that character. Breathing into that character. My mind butts up against the forms of theater that have come, that leave me discouraged. A show. A one-man show. A musical. In a black box theater. In a proscenium. With seats. What ELSE is there?
Improv in Chicago was exciting. The space was amazing, spacious, and the show was inspiring. It was an all-woman improv.
I just keep thinking... I don't want a cobbled together actor's life. I want a real life. I want to be an actor... but somehow more. I want to create for a living. I want to wield the magic wand. I want to conduct the magic orchestra. And I want the players to be supported. I want them to be at home with me in their creations. Not jittery because they could be fired at any time. Not looking over their shoulders at each other, thinking competitive thoughts. I want them... I want ME to feel a luxurious, supported atmosphere. A space that is well cared for. That is loved. That is more than just a typical theater. A facility that includes a vocal recording studio. A YMCA for actors. An OMEGA for actors.
Jake created this. He did this. He did it. He gave himself the gift of a community of unity. A family.
Thanks to God. For this space. For this kindness given to me by my host. For this exchange of company for a bed. Goodnight.
I feel closer to the undercurrent energy of my "truer" self thrumming beneath the surface. This is a reminder. This is the version of me that I'm seeking to have more constant contact with. It is my base.
What does it feel like? It feels like whole foods, energy from the earth. It is quiet, still. It is not frenetic, though I put myself in a frenzy to find it. All day I've been driving while glancing at my phone. Distracted driving. Distracted from the boredom of a long highway. Not wishing to engage with the present. Eating sugar, driving fast, finding entertaining things to listen to.
This house is well put-together, it's got straight lines, and feels warm and inviting. I'm in Omaha, Nebraska staying in the guest bedroom of a man who hosts couch surfing folks. He's given me a greater gift than he knows. He's given me peace. From this place I can create.
I need to make for myself a haven. A clean place. In a clean town. Clean foods. Clean friends. Clean thoughts. Pure. Simple. I remember now those revelations. I want to live a full life, not a cobbled together actor's experience. Not borrowing space. Living. Not borrowing a job for a while. Living. Not borrowing a character for a while, living that character. Expanding that character. Breathing into that character. My mind butts up against the forms of theater that have come, that leave me discouraged. A show. A one-man show. A musical. In a black box theater. In a proscenium. With seats. What ELSE is there?
Improv in Chicago was exciting. The space was amazing, spacious, and the show was inspiring. It was an all-woman improv.
I just keep thinking... I don't want a cobbled together actor's life. I want a real life. I want to be an actor... but somehow more. I want to create for a living. I want to wield the magic wand. I want to conduct the magic orchestra. And I want the players to be supported. I want them to be at home with me in their creations. Not jittery because they could be fired at any time. Not looking over their shoulders at each other, thinking competitive thoughts. I want them... I want ME to feel a luxurious, supported atmosphere. A space that is well cared for. That is loved. That is more than just a typical theater. A facility that includes a vocal recording studio. A YMCA for actors. An OMEGA for actors.
Jake created this. He did this. He did it. He gave himself the gift of a community of unity. A family.
Thanks to God. For this space. For this kindness given to me by my host. For this exchange of company for a bed. Goodnight.
Wednesday, December 9, 2015
Moving and Shaking
The time is nearly upon me. I am going to soon uproot myself, my life. I am moving to a place I've never been.
But let's look a little deeper. What is it for? It's not the place I'm moving to. It's a place inside of me I'm allowing to move in. I want to stand in a field. In the field of my bliss. What does it look like? What does it FEEL like?
It is a world separate from the actor's grind. It is outside. Is it the Renaissance Festival? That distilled magic, yes. I am very good at acting through a character in an interactive way. Of staying in character, being larger than life, bringing out joy in people. I watched a video of 1000 people playing "Learn to Fly" by the Foo Fighters. That many people united in a common artistic thing, in an outdoor arena, is near to the heart of it.
I feel frustrated by my lack of clear vision. What does this thing I want to do look like? Is it like Kneehigh, where I'm an artistic director?
Heart, stay open. It's out there somewhere. It will awaken something in HERE somewhere. Inside me.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
But let's look a little deeper. What is it for? It's not the place I'm moving to. It's a place inside of me I'm allowing to move in. I want to stand in a field. In the field of my bliss. What does it look like? What does it FEEL like?
It is a world separate from the actor's grind. It is outside. Is it the Renaissance Festival? That distilled magic, yes. I am very good at acting through a character in an interactive way. Of staying in character, being larger than life, bringing out joy in people. I watched a video of 1000 people playing "Learn to Fly" by the Foo Fighters. That many people united in a common artistic thing, in an outdoor arena, is near to the heart of it.
I feel frustrated by my lack of clear vision. What does this thing I want to do look like? Is it like Kneehigh, where I'm an artistic director?
Heart, stay open. It's out there somewhere. It will awaken something in HERE somewhere. Inside me.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
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