Time is weird

Today is Kevin Biggerstaff's birthday, and it is also Sergei Nosov's birthday.

Twenty years ago, in 1990, in the Spring, I went to Russia for the first time, and had my mind blown.

I know that Kevin is in San Francisco. I assume that Sergei is in Moscow, but I haven't had contact with him since somewhere around 2004.

Post Script: Last night (or, that is, early this morning) while writing this blog entry, when I couldn't sleep, my cat jumped up on the bed and was purring on me. All at once I noticed that she had a flea crawling on her muzzle. In my effort to capture the flea, I somehow tore my index fingernail down past the quick and my computer went sliding off my lap square onto the floor. Both my computer and my fingernail survived, though the left hand shift key fell off, and my finger is band-aided up like a mini-mummy. The flea, I'm proud to say, did not survive.

Fruity Bunny

Well shut my mouth, it's chilly again this evening.

Health Care Reform is supposedly passing in Congress as we speak.

Today a theatre friend sent me one of those fancy fruit baskets that looks like a flower arrangement. What a nice gift, complete with chocolate-covered pineapple bunnies.

I have two big theatre projects weighing heavy on my mind these days: Waiting for Godot, which I will perform in in May; and Much Ado About Nothing, which I will direct in the summer. I am mildly, predictably freaked out about both.

I love my boyfriend.

Small and big

So I put on my p.j.s for what will probably be one of the last chilly nights of the year. Or should I say mornings. It's 3:06 a.m. I am listening to a bootleg recording of Joanna Newsom in Sydney. The world is quiet.

At night I sit outside and smoke. I sometimes listen to the neighborhood noises, or there might be some loud youngsters across the street in the parking lot behind the nightclubs. But mostly I listen to music and play solitaire on my ipod.

I have had many revelations while playing solitaire and listening to music and smoking. Sometimes I lose myself in the game and root for suits like I'm at a sporting event, playing and replaying those games with the potential to win. And whichever suit's the last to be placed has special significance. And a win is even more significant if I got it after numerous tries. These game lessons are sometimes implied as life lessons.

Sometimes I have revelations about actions I need to accomplish, or qualities I want to incorporate, or I have ideas about ways to do something.

Sometimes I just vegetate.

I fill myself with smoke.

I remember something stupid or smart that I said, and I wince or smile accordingly. And that memory is quickly forwarded into another. Sometimes I am able to stand at a vantage point and look down, or up, at my movie of memories, which unrolls ceaselessly, impervious to my attention or inattention.

When I come inside, my cat sometimes (usually when it's cool) perches on me. She's perching on me now.

It's 3:16 a.m...

Read This One!

Enough of Lame Postings.

My last post started out really long and then got cut down to several sentences. Somehow in reviewing it I almost edited it away.

Here in San Antonio it is spring. It is the perfect time of year, except that the slight warmth in the air is an unwelcome harbinger of the beast called summer.

I have been enjoying the grape candy smell of mountain laurel in the air.

I am engrossed in Joanna Newsom's new album, Have One On Me. So engrossed, in fact, that I purchased the LP version, which is big (it's a 3-LP set) and beautiful (complete with calligraphy) and has a lyrics booklet to help decode all that swoonily-sung poesy.

Another album that has slunk unnoticed into my subconscious is Dungen's 4. This is a Swedish band and their music is difficult to describe. It is sometimes hard rock, but it also has intimate piano moments, and at other times it makes me feel like I'm sunburned in the 1970's, wearing brown sunglasses and driving a Monte Carlo on the beach at sunset, windows down and gritty breeze burning my stubbly cheek. One dusk while driving home from Dallas after an audition, I was listening to Dungen and watching some birds in the sky make their swarming patterns, and it was one of those perfect moments of beauty that you remember for a long time.

Freda, we recently realized, has been beset by fleas. I took her to the vet for some update shots last week and we also got some flea medicine for her. On Friday we gave her a bath in the bathtub. It was much less traumatic than I'd imagined it would be. She screamed about four times, then as we scooped the water onto her, she seemed to go into a state either of shock or acceptance, and let us do whatever we wanted. Afterwards when we dried her off, she didn't bolt or hide or hiss at us; she hung out with us in the heated living room, licking herself and letting us continue to dab at her fur with towels. Low-drama kitty! My favorite!

David and I have been working on the Forum Theatre Project the last 4-5 weeks or so. This year's theme was Love and Marriage, with a subtext of Who Has The Right To Get Married?. So we collected interviews and stories from people and put them into a structured, improvised scene. I did not perform but was a sort of assistant director on the project. David acted for the first time in ten years and did an excellent job. We are both glad it's over, though it was an enjoyable experience for both of us. On Saturday night the Project performed at San Antonio's 3rd annual Luminaria, an arts festival in downtown San Antonio.

I have mixed feelings about Luminaria. On one hand, it is beautiful and inspiring to see San Antonians come out in droves to experience an arts festival. On the other hand, the content of the actual festival is kind of slim. But it is only the third year. Maybe it will improve.

I applied to be a census worker and took the census worker test. I'm hoping they'll call me.

You may have noticed I am using proper capitalization recently, whereas in the past I wrote everything in lower case. Just felt it was a time for a change, a consciousness of the shift button, an evolution to adult rules, for the fun of it.

P.S. Barry, tell me how I can get in touch with you.

Theatre machine

I have been seeing a larger amount of theatre than usual. Just in these past two weeks, I have seen Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, Fire on the Bayou, Blood Wedding, and Mary Stuart. Each play left me with a distinct level of satisfaction and a different list of praises and/or problems.

I am learning a lot about acting and about directing.

movie again

yesterday i auditioned for another movie. this audition wasn't nearly as fun-- all i did was go in, fill out a form, and get my picture taken-- but it was for the coen brothers' upcoming remake of TRUE GRIT. they were seeing me for a "featured extra" -- a role that has a name but no lines, and apparently the man i would be playing is, in the movie, dead.

in any case, dead or no, it would be so cool to be in a coen brothers movie. wouldn't it?

movie

last week i drove to houston for a movie audition.

the movie is called SAFETY POINT and has already started filming. it is about two lawyers (one a heavy partier, the other straight-laced) who stumble into the world of corporate medical supplies and challenge the system. it is a funny, smart, and relevant movie. i was auditioning for the part of a corporate hatchet man with a heart of ice. my expectation was that the casting agent would see me and send me away immediately based on my appearance. but instead, the casting agent was welcoming and complimentary. she ran the 6-line scene with me several times, gave me a few things she was looking for, and even called in another actor to read with me before we taped it. instead of a predictable 30-second once-over, this casting agent gave me a full half hour of her time and at the conclusion of our time together, told me i was one of two actors she was submitting for the role.

i drove back from houston feeling elated.

i haven't heard from them since, and that is of course disappointing. but this audition felt like a very important step on my road to the goal: be in a movie in 2010!

valentine surprise

for xmas my brother gave me a subscription to sam phillips' private website, the long play. it's a cool present because we both like her music and as part of the membership we get free downloads of new songs, access to her blog, photos, podcasty thingies, videos... it's neat.

a few weeks ago she announced a valentine's day contest: write about your worst valentine memory and post it; three winners will be chosen to receive a homemade valentine from sam phillips herself.

i wrote about something that happened to me:

Well, all those early school Valentine’s Day experiences were pretty terrible, there’s no denying that; but my most memorable Valentine activity happened in 2002, when i was 33 and working in the one-hour photo lab of a large chain drugstore in northern California.
The photo lab was a sectioned-off area in the corner of the store with walls that went only waist-high, so that customers could look in and ostensibly see their photos being developed. On the evening before Valentine’s Day, I was feeling particularly unattractive, cheeky, and single, and I was sick of the incessant marketing, the pink cardboard ruffle hearts, the flowers, the schmaltz– so I took down the dry-erase board in the photo lab and I wrote the following message on it: Happy Corporate Scam Day!, with little hearts with arrows through them all around it.
In my mind it was a perfectly harmless little piece of cynicism, something I thought might give a smirk to my co-workers in the midst of all that lovey-dovey chocolatey nonsense.
But when I arrived to work on Valentine’s afternoon, I was immediately told to go see Jeff, one of the store managers. My little pink heart skipped a beat. I went up to Jeff’s office.
”Andy,” he said, pulling the board up off his desk and facing it at me, ”What were you thinking?!” My writing suddenly looked so insolent, so mean, so bitter. ”Happy Corporate Scam Day?? People shopping at our store can SEE this dry-erase board in the photo lab. How do you think this message makes them feel? How do you think it makes us look?”
Though I was 33, at that moment it was as if I was 13 again, sitting in the principal’s office after spraying shook-up Cokes in the stairwell. I felt so suddenly, childishly guilty.
”Sorry, Jeff,” I said. ”I thought it would be funny.”
”Well it’s not,” he said, wiping his hand across the message and handing the board to me. ”Now go get to work.”

...and i found out the day before yesterday that i was chosen as one of the winners. sam talked about my corporate scam day on her audio "phone booth" podcast, and apparently a homemade (not store-bought) valentine is on its way to me. the lesson i'm gleaning: bad and annoying experiences can, if put into proper context, resonate with others and pay off someday! yay.

parental

last night as i was going to sleep i had the thought, "i haven't seen mom and pop in a long time. i need to see them soon." and this morning the first call i got was mom saying they were coming into town and could i meet them? ...voila.

so i met them for lunch at a nearby luby's. i used to hate luby's. it's one of those things that was shoved down your throat as a kid and you always hated it, and now that you're an adult you can't live without it.

pop talked about how obama is smooth but if you actually read his speeches there's not much substance. he talked about how great sarah palin's book was. he said she was his candidate. i said, "i'm sorry." but we all agreed that the politics in congress are getting in the way of anything being done.

we talked about mom's longtime friend jean who is living with alzheimer's at a retirement facility in boerne. she sits and observes. she sometimes recognizes mom, who always introduces herself when she comes in.

their dog ringo was in the car. since i had walked to luby's, they gave me a ride home. i gave my dad a check, another installment paying him back slowly for the car he helped me buy.

the importance of socks

ET is not chopped liver. i just want to make that clear.

nik, i will endeavor to post some of my drawings up on the blog eventually. i have a drawings blog, but shortly after i started it, i got a new computer, then i got a new scanner, and i have still not learned how to use them to my best advantage. but i will do so eventually, on one blog or the other.

you know how little adjustments in life can make that slight difference that makes everything better? it's the difference between a corona with lime and a corona without lime-- though it is a small adjustment, there's really no comparison. it's when you move the dresser to the other side of the room-- it took five minutes, yet it changes the entire atmosphere. it is the tiny twist that makes the guitar string in tune instead of flat.

well, on my recent trip to portland, on one of our walks, i noticed this SOCK shop in beth's neighborhood. this sock shop had a sexy painted sign with a woman wearing long socks. one day we decided to go in. if i were a foot fetishist, i would have been, well, aroused. as it was i was very excited. who knew that a shop full of beautifully displayed socks could be so cool, so sexy? i don't know why, it wasn't like they were sex socks or anything... they were just normal socks-- cotton, wool, acrylic... there was a back room with lingerie-type socks, but that wasn't what was so great. i really don't know what it was. all i know is, i bought three pairs of socks-- a black pair with eyes all over it, a pair that looks like red meat, and a dark blue pair with dragons on them (for david, who is a dragon on the chinese calendar). and every time i get to wear those meat socks or those eye socks, it makes me really happy.

just a suggestion. the next time you feel a little low, try getting yourself some cool socks.

wah-wah-wahhhhh

don't you just hate it when no one reads your blog. then you think someone has left a comment and you get all excited, and you go to the comment, and it says,

先告訴自己希望成為什麼樣的人，然後一步一步實踐必要的步驟。

black and white

i visited my friend beth in portland. the time was intense. it was restful, replenishing, chilly, stunning, sad, and productive. i took a day trip to seattle. it was the first time that i had ever gone on amtrak. i saw friends there, bought some sneakers, drank coffee and watched jean cocteau's beauty and the beast... again.

i read a book called nothing to be frightened of by julian barnes. in this book, he talks about his family, his agnosticism, and the nature of life and death. it sounds like it should be a very heavy tome, but barnes keeps it light and enjoyable, even while making the possibility of death, ultimate death, feel quite real. reading it, i felt a strange mixture of dread and delight. though it isn't really pleasant to think about not existing anymore, it is mildly comforting to know that somebody else is scared of it too...

i would rather think about these things and get a little sad about them than not think about them at all, or remain where i've been all my life-- in a sort of half-thought-out state of maybe-this-will-happen-ness. of course i have no idea what will happen, but to fully consider the possibilities feels important.

i have taken a short story i wrote called "human tenderness" and am making it into a graphic version, in other words a story with pictures. i started last night and i have the first two pages under my belt. i am using pencil, roller ball pen, and 3 colors of india ink: cherry red, turquoise, and sepia. the story is about a man who comes to pick up his friend for lunch and finds that the friend has killed himself.

today i took a walk to las salsas, a sort-of good mexican restaurant on san pedro. the air was cold and the sky was so, so blue. on my way home i saw a dog running in the road and i whistled to it. it stopped. i knelt down and made a kiss noise, but it didn't come over. i whistled a few more times. it didn't have a collar on. it looked young. it was black and white.

blerk

another remarkably bland, characteristically lukewarm san antonio review.

hard bargain review

i did one of those unintentional benders last night.

i sat down to watch the russian film NIGHT WATCH with a glass of tequila and a beer.

before i knew it i was seeing double. or was that just the movie?

i woke up at 3:15 am all cotton-mouthed and dizzy.

though it was really cool to watch, i could not follow that movie. not a whit.

i might try again.

in the meantime, here's a review for the play i directed. the play actually happened, wow. i thought it would maybe happen, maybe not.

zwahhh

i did make that cd for my brother after all, and gave it to him for xmas.

he seemed to appreciate it. he said he'd listen to it.

he pointed out that i forgot "coconut" by harry nilsson. he was right.

2010 feels good already, even though i got sick.

we went to rick and chris' house and there were cool people there sitting around talking and being naturally funny. rick and chris were making homemade pizza. all the ingredients for the pizzas were in little white bowls on the kitchen table. it was so picturesque, it looked like it should have been filmed.

at the turning of the hour we all went into the front yard with our drinks. they had veuve clicquot. we watched the fireworks over the tower of the americas. it was cold and there were two dogs running around. people were smoking and laughing, and no one shouted "happy new year!" -- how refreshing!

my family gave my boyfriend gifts for xmas. not only the gift of their kindness but actual presents. i saw my dad hugging him a little and saying something to him. it was like, wow. evolution.

it helps me to evolve when i see my family evolve.

wishes made truth

happy new year.

may prosperity

creativity

harmony

discovery

and

DYNAMIC ACTION

all be yours this year!

tendencies

of how much use is incessant nostalgia?

i am a victim of sentimentality.

recently i decided to make a playlist of nostalgic songs i associate with my brother and our childhoods. we used to go into this pool room at the place where we swam. the pool room was, i think, a breakroom for staff, but no one was ever in there. my brother had a knack for finding out about places that other people didn't know about. this was one of them.

there was a jukebox in there. i remember these songs playing.

jambalaya (on the bayou) by hank williams -- we wondered what "fille gumbo" was and sometimes called each other "fille gumbo" if in a fightin' mood;

i shot the sherriff by bob marley -- my brother would go on to be a complete reggae fanatic, even traveling to jamaica in his early 20's;

me and julio down by the schoolyard by paul simon -- which remains my favorite paul simon song and one of the few songs that loses no emotional punch as i grow older;

low rider by war -- sticks on bottles and the deepest groove.

count on me by jefferson airplane -- that country piano at the beginning always reminds me of "behind closed doors" by charlie rich, but this song is so much better, and kind of a perfect 70's love song.

then there are other songs that remind me of our house growing up.

rock the boat by hues corporation -- i remember doing a dance to this and making my brother laugh... the difference was that i was laughing too;

i wish by stevie wonder -- there are so many stevie wonder songs that qualify for nostalgic gems, but this one holds sway over all the others for some reason;

nothin' but a heartache by michael mcdonald -- all us thornton boys were doobie brothers fans, and felt some special affinity for michael's dog-like howling voice;

moondance by cat stevens -- i remember hearing this on the radio in the car on the way to new braunfels once, and singing it to sarah kate, our younger cousin, when we finally got to thanksgiving, or christmas, or whatever family function it was we were attending;

coming up by paul mccartney -- not his best, possibly his worst, but dang i loved it when it came out, that jangly guitar and those silly high vocals;

monster mash by bobby "boris" pickett and the crypt-kickers -- when i was 7 or 8 i got a free transistor when my dad opened a savings account for me... the radio was little, round and white, and it never picked up shit. then one day we were standing in front of our house, on the sidewalk, and this came on, and it was the best song i had ever, ever heard.

there are other songs too.

now that i am over 40 i am afraid that making cds for people is a patently childish thing to keep doing, so i am debating with myself whether or not to make a cd for my brother for christmas. he once told me that if he doesn't like even one song on a cd, he won't listen to it. so i have been selecting carefully. but i am leaning toward the feeling that i probably won't risk it at all.

in any case, it has been a lot of fun for me to revisit these memory-soaked tunes.

good weather

i was walking every day before the beastly summer descended... and DIDN'T GO AWAY.

till now.

yesterday, fall, finally.

took a walk to trade some dvds in.

headphones playing 'bitte orca' by the dirty projectors.

thoughts of ingmar bergman controlling the lighting for his interview, suggesting he interview the interviewer instead.

bright blue sky. breeze.

to walk with hands in pockets, or swinging free? a little of both.

tromped across a grassy field.

on the way back, a poor woman collecting fallen pecans.

following the brackenridge park train tracks to mulberry.

as the train passed, waving to the few kids inside.

a dog hanging out by the river.

two guys fishing.

one of those empty lots with a concrete foundation in it. did a house used to be there? did they pour the foundation and run out of money? would be a good place to shoot a music video.

passing firetruck.

boyfriend calls. "where are you?"

walking home. almost home.

feng shui?

life-changing event #3,771:

i rearranged my room today, effectively opening up an entire corner of the room that was being neglected.

it's like the room is breathing differently. i like it a LOT.

photo shoot

this is me as of one week ago, standing in front of the wall across the street from our house.