Songs

There are different kinds of music listeners.

I am the kind of music listener who listens primarily to the melody and the atmosphere of the song before I ever ascertain the lyrics. Sometimes the lyrics are very clear to me and sometimes I can go years without really knowing what a song is about, then when I realize what the song is really about it's a revelation.

For example, there's a Smiths song called "This Night Has Opened My Eyes." It has a pretty, muted, mysterious quality about it, and the lyrics never particularly called attention to themselves. Then one night my eyes were opened:

In a river the color of lead

Immerse the baby's head

Wrap her up in the news of the world

Dump her on a doorstep, girl

This night has opened my eyes

And I will never sleep again

Basically it's a song about getting rid of a baby. How could I not have noticed that? I just thought it was a pretty song about someone having a revelation about something, some night.

Another song I recently realized the lyrics for is The B-52's song "52 Girls," which is much more whimsical.

Effie, Madge and Mabel, Biddie

See them on the beach or in New York City

Tina, Louise and Hazel and Mavis

Can you name, name, name, name them today? ...

These are the girls of the U.S.A.

I always knew they were singing girls' names, but I never knew the song was actually about girls' names.

Last night I heard a band cover The Cure's "Just Like Heaven."

"Show me show me show me how you do that trick

The one that makes me scream," she said

"The one that makes me laugh," she said

And threw her arms around my neck

"Show me how you do it

And I promise you I promise that

I'll run away with you

I'll run away with you"

And then the girl goes away, either into the sea, or into the ocean "deep inside of" the narrator...

In moments like this, I wonder how much of life I'm just blatantly oblivious to...

So much ignorance...

So much to discover...

Flee, flee as a flea to the boneyard

Last Sunday David treated the yard with a new batch of beneficial nematodes.

Last Monday we spent the whole day cleaning the house, taking detritus either to the trash can or the garage, sweeping, vacuuming. When everything was sufficiently clean, we sprayed a toxic flea killing agent in half the house, closed ourselves off in the other half of the house, and waited while the spray dried. Once we had waited long enough, we sprayed the other half, closed it off and waited again. Then, I gave Freda a pill called Cap Star (I think) which makes fleas die and fall off within half an hour. Then we gave Freda a thorough bath.

It has been a blissfully relaxed, flea-free week. Freda has slept again like she used to, with abandon and without fear of jerking awake to scratch an irritating flea away. I'm starting to see fleas again, as of yesterday, on my bed. I have emailed my landlord to ask him to bring in that professional exterminator he mentioned. In the meantime I have sprayed my bed down with a solution of water and flea shampoo, and vacuumed the bed and all the areas around it. I don't know how much sanity I can maintain if the fleas come back like they were.

You might have noticed I changed my blog template. Sort of like a little re-model. I like the drippy watercolor effect in the background.

I'm in a play that I am not enjoying as much as Godot. I am learning.

I would like to travel to a cooler climate for a month or even a week.

I watched Shadow of a Doubt, a 1947 Hitchcock film co-written by Thornton Wilder. A thriller starring Joseph Cotten. I also re-watched Synecdoche, New York, the great Charlie Kaufman movie that came out a couple of years ago.

I am directing Much Ado About Nothing which will open in mid-August. I have hit on an idea that excites me, after much floundering around for an idea, concept, or time period to latch onto. I have a great cast and I am excited about this project, both to be directing as well as to take a break from acting for this one.

I met with the Head of School for St Luke's, where I'll be working in the fall. He is an interesting and alive person who is very supportive of my ideas and has great artistic aspirations for the school. I'll work there only 6 or so hours a week, with 7th-8th graders, creating the first Drama program St Luke's has ever had.

This week David and I went to an impromptu pool party thrown by one of my castmates. It was at night and it was a blast.

Summer Good and Bad

Tennis Camp

Summer School (the kid who pulled the elastic out of his sock and offered it to me)

Chlorine

My sister when she wakes up

Cold musty house

It's such a long drive to Dallas

Basketball falling on my head

Sore legs lying in bed at night

Permission

Weasel & the White Boys Cool

Suitcase full of liquor (at American U when I roomed with Robert)

Arizona

Sticker burrs

Card games

Jello 1-2-3

What day of the week is it?

Gannie

Six Flags

My brother wiping out on his skateboard down the driveway

I've got a brand new pair of roller skates

Salty french fries eaten with pruny fingers

Doritos at the beach

On the shoulders of a life guard

Chiggers

Fireflies (Lightning Bugs)

Dead chicken pile

Hawaiian Tropic

Amazing non-stick bubble gum

Nike

Sweep out the garage every Saturday

Beauty School Drop-Out

Coneheaded Woman

Canyon Lake

Peeling shoulders

Pineapple

Flights

Archie comics

Care package

Homesick

Dust

Public showers

Bowl of sliced peaches with sprinkled sugar

Why can't we be friends?

Bathing suit

High dive

Cousin Linda who made my bed smell so good for weeks...

Duckies

I love my horoscope this week.

It's time for some image medicine, Taurus. Wherever you are right now, I invite you to look down at your left palm and imagine that you see the following scene: an infinity sign whose shape is made not by a thin black line but by a series of small yellow rubber duckies. The duckies are flowing along slowly in continuous motion. They are all wearing gold crowns, each of which is studded with three tiny rubies. With resonant tones that belie their diminutive and comic appearance, the duckies are singing you your favorite song. It makes you feel safe, brave, and at home in the world. What else can see you see there? What happens next?

Presence

My godmother, Jean Jean (double-named at an early age by my sister), passed away this morning. She was in her eighties and had struggled with Alzheimers for six or seven years, maybe more. In the last few years she had become so different than the Jean Jean I had known, lost in that horrible disease. I hadn't seen her in over a year. She had recently been moved to a nursing home in Boerne.

In her heyday, Jean Jean was a consummate godmother. I adored her. She was chic and had a dry southern wit. She cooked beautiful meals. One recent Thanksgiving (2003) she snuck out with me to the guest house to have some wine before the meal. (She didn't think my mother would approve of her desire for wine.)

The most overtold story about Jean Jean and me happened when I was very young, maybe five or six. It was my birthday and my presents were stacked on the dining room table along with the food we were about to eat. As my dad said the before-meal prayer, he said, "We thank you for Jean Jean's presence with us today." No sooner had everyone said "Amen" than I burst out in sobs, saying, "It's not Jean Jean's presents, it's MY presents!" ...alas, I was a greedy little booger... but it made for a good story, told and re-told over the years.

I have been missing Jean Jean's presence for the last couple years, and I will miss her even more now.

Today is the last performance of Waiting for Godot. Thanks to Marc and Margaret for making it down for the show-- y'all are non-stop. :-) My body is grateful that this play is over. David tweezed a splinter out of my foot this morning, and that's not the half of it.

Godot Grotto

Wow, I can't remember the last show I was in that was so hard on me physically. It's the kind of situation where you don't realize how strenuous it is until it's over. During the action, it feels fine, then suddenly it's over and you feel run over by a truck.

The director has decided to have me onstage before the play begins, as the audience is coming in. During this time I may do whatever I want to do. I will probably opt to sleep most of the time, though I may wander and scavenge occasionally. What's most important is that when the theatre doors close, my right foot begins to itch, and my boot just won't come off.

Last night I practiced that pre-show routine a little by lying onstage in costume (for the first time) while everyone else completed their getting-ready processes. As I lay there, I said to myself, "I am confident and grounded in this play. All that remains is to have fun."

And it worked that way.

I know the show will have its ups and downs, but to give myself the simple goal of FUN is kind of an amazing lesson.

In other news, I have always loved Rachel Maddow's show on MSNBC; after reading this article I love her even more.

beckett's masterpiece

Rehearsal was unsatisfying and borderline frustrating tonight, for the following reasons:

1. My cohort keeps apologizing every time he speaks. I thought I was a chronic apologizer! He makes me look like Napoleon! Tonight he actually stepped on a spot on the floor and it creaked and he apologized to it. I am not lying. This would all be funny and chuckly except that this man really takes his apologies to heart. So that by two hours into rehearsal he has hit a wall of exhaustive self-hatred and almost completely shuts down, becoming nearly impossible to work with.

2. We are at that point in rehearsal where things are just frustrating, regardless of the work we're doing. It is standard.

3. I feel that the director hasn't been specific enough with some of the blocking in the show. Now I am a person who believes that an actor can create his own blocking and that makes the movement that much more organic. However, there are bits in this play that call for very specific comic timing and consistency in order to work, and those bits aren't really being established. This worried me tonight.

Ah, relief. I feel better now that those things are off my chest.

Rain

...and lots of it, in San Antonio, today.

An early memory: My mom taking me to a doctor's appointment, at the Children's Clinic on Hildebrand. I was in the backseat looking out the back window of the car (in the days before seatbelts were ever paid attention to). It was very rainy and the radio was on, and some commentator like Paul Harvey was talking. I felt sad because of some separation from my mother. I must have been 6 or 7.

I read a passage from the Tao Te Ching today. It seems strangely appropriate, given the recent nuclear arms talks and the bank bailouts:

The more prohibitions you have,
the less virtuous people will be.
The more weapons you have,
the less secure people will be.
The more subsidies you have,
the less self-reliant people will be.

Risk

Ridiculous how new technology (the iPad) makes my 3-year old technology (MacBook Pro) look like a dinosaur. I don't even know 3/4ths of what my computer can do, and I'm lusting after this stupid new computer that's no thicker than a wafer.

It's a sad state of affairs.

It doesn't help that my left-hand shift key has fallen off, that my battery is dead, and that my electricity cord is fraying. I'm like, a new battery and new cord will cost me upwards of $200; I might as well just throw in another $350 and get an iPad! But no, that's not my thought process at all, really. I just want to get this one fixed. Really. I ain't lying.

The continuing battle against fleas. Another bath for Freda, her Frontline today, David spraying flea spray on the outside sills of the windows.

First rehearsal of Godot tonight.

Late nights staying up, not sleeping, or sometimes sleeping before I can realize I was tired. Limiting myself on certain intakes. Easter with family. Children I'm related to not knowing who I am. The creaky floors. My boyfriend looking in, unsure.

It doesn't make sense and it doesn't have to. I come back to the squirrel in the grass and the current moment's gravity. I am good at what I do.

Ah elusive, overrated sleep

Spring is birthday time in my family. My mom and three siblings all have birthdays in April and May, plus a niece and a nephew.

Today I'm going to my brother's house for an Easter/Mom's birthday/brother's birthday celebration. I don't really see my family that often, so it will be nice.

I see my parents more often than I see my sister and brothers.

I guess there are various reasons why I don't see them that often. One brother lives a 4-hour drive away, that's a hindrance. As for the ones who live closer, I think I'm probably used to alienating myself from them because I didn't want them to know everything about me. Now that I don't care what they know about me, I am used to alienating, so it just works out that way. But I see no reason why it has to stay that way.

This week David and I had a good evening with my nephew and his wife.

I am depressed about: looking haggard, having fleas in my house, being out of shape, and being poor.

I am happy about: starting rehearsals on Waiting for Godot tomorrow, eating leftover pelmeni, listening to Jonsi's new album Go, and seeing my family today.

Return to Form

Life-Changing Events

(every little thing)

My aunt fell and broke her shoulder.

I got an email from Yulia in Moscow saying she wasn't hurt in the bombings.

Joan Armatrading has a new album out. So does Black Francis.

I had purchased some beneficial nematodes for our yard, but never used them.

Mom and Dad bought my lunch today. My mom's pupils were all dilated because of an eye exam she'd just had.

David got his Texas I.D. at the D.M.V. today, and rode the bus.

My cat is scratching. I should have used those nematodes.

events

Two suicide bombers killed 38 people in Moscow today.

I don't like Matthew Rothschild's incessant negativity.

My boyfriend is looking for a job. Today he went to a new bakery that opened up around the corner from us, and who was standing in line but his old abhorred boss. He said he immediately turned around and left the establishment before she could see him.

I have felt bombarded with lint and settled upon by dust lately. So today I aired out the rugs in my room, swept, cleaned under the bed, rearranged, did laundry, took things to the storage room. I guess you could call it a mini spring cleaning.

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.

week's events

it's been a very busy week for me.

david has been in denver, helping his mom move and seeing friends.

i went in to get labs done, including an X-ray (i'm not sure why, i guess my doctor ordered it).

i got a haircut. i had a photo session with my nephew (for resume pictures).

i drove 2 hours to smithville texas, where i was a special guest speaker in my friend lisa's 7th grade Teen Leadership class. she likes to shake the class up sometimes, so she had me pose as a person who had at one time been homeless, to see how the kids would react. so i came up with a whole backstory and stayed in character all day. the kids were very respectful (at least to my face) and after the first class "performance" i got a pang of guilt. it felt a little wrong to be manipulating them that way, inherently dishonest. and they bought into it so completely. and yet something about that character i was playing, this man whose life is not much like mine at all, came out of me quite organically, and therefore felt quite honest. lisa said the kids were talking about it all the next day and wanted to send me letters and presents. all in all i take it as a great (if voyeuristic) life experience, and a valuable acting experience as well.

i went to three southside high schools to work with students on scholarship monologues. these are students with not many resources (in some cases, hardly even a teacher to count on) but who remind me that the world is much bigger than my usual beaten path.

i had lunch with two good friends and dinner with two good friends, where we watched rufus wainwright's new concert video done in milwaukee. i thought rufus camped it up a bit too much but then i realized... i think that was the point. he looked especially gorgeous in drag.

today i was going to go to two more southside schools, and i was going to see a play, but i felt sick all day, headachy and sore throaty. so i stuck around home drinking Emergen-C and gargling with salt water. i also thought of fran when i took some oscillococcinum. just in case.

boxes

my friend barry wrote something that rings true for me.

Thinking outside of the box is something we must do every day of our life as we are constantly creating new boxes for ourselves. Even the ones we feel comfortable in are best served by our examining them for restrictive qualities. Stimulus is our best asset in helping us to get out of our own way. It can come in millions of forms limited only by our antennae and willingness to receive.

cars

yesterday my dad helped me finance a new car. it's not a new car. it's from 1996. it looks like this. i like it because it is smooth and reliable. it is sort of like gliding in a silver cloud. i feel invisible in it.

this article says you can tell a lot about a person by the car they drive. they don't mention the mercury grand marquis. only porsches, hondas, mini coopers... kind of a stupid article actually. but i was thinking about that question as i drove home from kerrville yesterday. i was thinking, what does this car say about me? that i want to disappear into the background? that i crave practicality? or simply that i am poor and had to rely on my dad to choose a sensible car for me? this last option seems most accurate.

my old car looks like this, except much less shiny and with more dents and rusty spots. it has a lot of character. but character only goes so far when you can't rely on it.

rage of murk

my alma mater has just sent me a postcard announcing an "alumni weekend" at the end of the month. why did they just now send me this, on october 7th? 2010 will mark 20 years since i graduated. what about our 20-year reunion? i mean isn't that sort of something special that should be organized and done right? i am not interested in some sort of general "alumni weekend" that i get a POSTCARD for, THREE WEEKS BEFORE IT HAPPENS!

i have always said i would never go to my high school reunions, but would be interested in a college one.

perhaps instead, next spring, i'll go visit ET in W-S and we'll just have our own private reunion. that way i won't have to worry about certain people in my class gloating about how successful they've been.

i feel crappy today. i'm hot, and my car isn't working, and i have no money.

no one in my class would gloat. that's a statement rising out of my current crappy mood, which manifests as bitter insecurity.

i'm walking to have lunch with my old high school drama teacher soon. we've been meeting for lunch every wednesday. we have great talks and there's a lot of love. there's a turn up.

my cat left a roach on the floor of my room for me this morning.

i watched a 50-minute documentary on frank zappa and the making of "apostrophe/overnite sensation." he is inspiring for these reasons:

prolific

unflinching

knew what he wanted to do

did it on his own

reverence for absurdity

incisive and intelligent

demanded excellence

today i feel like flailing on the ground, flailing on the wooden floor so hard that i would break a hole through the floor, then flail through the foundation, then flail through the earth and just keep flailing until i wanted to flail no more. somehow i feel the need to break free or release something. it's a murky sort of rage inside.

what a storm can do

last night, late, one of the most aggressive thunderstorms i have ever experienced. the lightning was so bright, it really looked as if someone were standing on the roof of our house flashing a bright white light on the garage in back, in successive flashes, 3-5 seconds apart, for at least 40 minutes. the thunder so raging and aggressive, sounding like iron gurneys being slammed onto the floor of the sky and rolled angrily to crash against a very nearby wall.

when it first woke me up it was splendid, because it's great being witness to a raucous thunderstorm, especially if it's in the middle of the night. there's a romance to it. david and i uttered our various "wow"s and "goddamn"s. but as it went on and did not decrease but rather seemed to increase in intensity, i began to sense my utter insignificance. how i could be ripped to shreds, smothered, snapped like a twig by nature, without a second thought.

it wasn't like a woody allen "i'm dying!" existential crisis, but there was a shuddering-in-the-corner-peering-out-into-the-void feeling about it. it made me think that i do not live as if i could die at any moment-- i have way too many possessions, for one thing. who do i think i'm fooling, with all those books?! that was one of the thoughts. another was that i really should clean up, because if the house were ripped in half by lightning, i would be ashamed about all the unneeded muss and detritus when the rescue cleanup crew came.

and also, where's the urgency in my life? where's the fire under my ass? in what way am i manifesting the rage of lightning inside of me?

normal

it's the first day of october. i like the next three months. when i was teaching i didn't like january. but i think i'll like it this year.

the other day i got a call from my old boss at the school district. the man who took over my teaching position is quitting due to marital stress and personal problems. i would like to talk to him and find out the true story, but i don't know him well enough to approach him with those questions.

it's not really cooler today, to reflect the change of month, but the heat has... eased up a little, let's put it that way.

i met with an agent and am going to sign with him for a year. i am really excited about this and have a good feeling about the agent.

i have been listening to ben folds' "way to normal" and liking it.

sunday quiet house

one of the devastating things about life is that such high and full hopes can be so quickly obliterated.

in relationships, though you may have huge vats of love for each other, a few nagging issues may ruin everything.

in other news...

today i walked along the refurbished north end of the riverwalk. it is, in a word, cool. there are many beautiful plants and flowers, exquisite landscaping. there are interesting under-bridge artworks, like large suspended fish and piped-in birdsong that echoes. there are terraces, benches, pagodas. it is beautiful. as the weather mildens (that's a word i just made up meaning "to become mild"), i will be spending more time on that new riverwalk branch, strolling, perhaps jotting down a note or two, maybe finding time to make a sketch.

conking

for the past several weeks my car has been on the verge of conking out.

is mercury in retrograde?

one morning david and i went to the bank and as we were pulling out of the parking lot onto the busy street we lost power. though i was pressing the accelerator, the car was sputtering and hesitating. luckily we made it into the median. we decided then and there immediately to go to stan's (remember--my polish mechanic?). stan looked at it, made a simple adjustment (something having to do with RPMs), and the car is working normally again.

i still love stan.

the aforementioned play, which i saw last night in austin, was a sort of rock opera fantasia with a lot of weird names. i went in with an open mind. i appreciated all the thought and hard work that went into it. but it wasn't my kind of thing. basically it boiled down to a lot of people singing dissonantly onstage in heavy makeup and costumes, the subject of their singing being power struggles and exotic names of potential destinations. beautiful lighting. well-funded. they must have a good grant writer...?

joan armatrading is blasting in the dining room. though the volume is a little much for me, i am grateful for a boyfriend who loves her as much as i do.

in the middle of our talk

marc finally called me and my phone conked out. it won't let me use it until it is charged to a certain capacity, i guess? anyway, sorry marc, i'll call you back when my phone is working again.

last night we walked to emily's for wine and project runway. it was fun. we snuggled with the puppies. on the walk home i danced in the street gaily. very gaily. it was a good release for me.

last week my external hard drive conked out. i was able to transfer all the information on it to a new hard drive. i have spent the past week organizing all the music on it. all the music is organized according to artist, except soundtracks, showtunes and compilations, all of which are organized by title of movie/show/compilation/person who made compilation.

compilation. compilation. compulsion. compulsion. compulsion.

i told beth i was spending time organizing my music on my external hard drive and she said, "it's sort of like your form of gardening. weeding, reorganizing, you're not getting enough light over here so i'll move you." she was right. it is like that.

tonight i am going with a friend to austin to watch a play called "the dragonfly queen."

bike satisfaction

in order to make the dream come sort of true, and to honor that cool guy i was riding bikes with in my dream, i walked my bike to the gas station and filled the tires and took a great lil' bike ride yesterday. i rode on down mccullough and turned right on east dewey, then left on ogden and stopped by david's old apartment, whose parking lot is now clean and paved. (that parking lot used to be so disgusting-- we think guys used to go there after the gay bars and get busy, because we'd always see used condoms lying around everywhere. one night david saw a guy naked in his car there.) then i continued on down ogden to the little park behind the gay bars and i circled around it (there were a few kids playing on the swingset and a couple of moms sitting at a table), then back onto ogden, took a right on locust and went all the way down to st. mary's, by the enchilada warehouse. at that corner there was a cab van waiting for someone in front of a house. he was on the phone shaking his head and gesturing toward the house. i went on past him all the way up st. mary's, which was almost deserted, to east craig, took a left and i was home. wow, it was a beautiful day, with huge clearly-defined clouds billowing in a cool blue sky.

me being with me

i dreamt that i was riding bikes with myself. i was me, and i was riding bikes with another guy that was me. and he was a really cool person to be with.

the psychological implications are almost insultingly overt.

nonetheless, in the dream, i realized the beauty of the situation, and how much i liked being with me, and i started sobbing out of pure joy. it was very moving. i was surprised when i awoke that i hadn't actually started crying in my sleep.

nine-nine-nine

it's september 9, 2009.

there may be logistical problems with president obama's policies. there may be financial conundrums he can't solve. maybe he has made too many concessions to the right. his health care plan may be criticized as a grab-bag of policies.

but what is most important to me about him is the direct human element he brings to an office i had grown up being at best indifferent to, at worst cynical about. what i mean by 'direct human element' is that it seems to me our president cares about people and people's issues. it seems he really has people's welfare in mind. in listening to past presidents, i found myself straining to understand them, relate to them, decipher them; i always wondered what ulterior motives they had. with president obama, it never crosses my mind-- for some reason, i trust him completely. when i listen to him, i understand. i agree. i am inspired.

i am still thrilled and inspired that barack obama is our president.

angst

i'm not exactly sure what happened last night.

when i first decided to quit teaching and focus on acting and directing, several people told me it was a risk. but the ones i remember said it in a tone of exhortation, like, "that takes balls!"

last night nothing happened, but as i was sitting there my framework seemed to gradually slip away and i experienced a profound terror, as if everything around me had suddenly revealed its true nature, and its true nature was much more shallow and mean than i had led myself to believe.

maybe i wandered out to the edge of the cliff and didn't realize it.

maybe i had too much wine (2 glasses?).

i am the kind of person who thinks that events have resonance beyond their visible action. but i don't know how to interpret this event.

i have so many desires and so much to give. yet i am crouching in the corner with my blankie.

it could have been just another coming of age moment where i am forced to grow up real quick-- like ripping the bandage off. it's less painful that way, finally.

bullet points

first: it doesn't take much to inspire someone. my more frequent blog updates are inspired in part by someone else's more frequent blog updates, which enrich my life.

second: i watched bunuel's 1977 film 'that obscure object of desire' the other day, and i liked it. it is the story of a rich man who falls in love/lust with his maid. the entire movie is spent with him pursuing her and her leading him on. all framed by the man telling the story to some strangers on a train. it is based on an old novel and was done as a silent film, i guess in the 20's? three clips of the original silent film are included on the criterion dvd.

third: as a kid, i loved to repeat phrases over and over, often applying a sing-song layer to the phrase. this made me an almost unbearable child, especially to my older brother, who must have wanted to strangle me after hearing me repeat "come...on...lar-ry, give... val... tro-phy" the 689th time. little did i know, however, that in becoming an adult actor, i would draw on my love of repetition to such a large extent. yesterday i did my first ever taping of a commercial for HEB. the commercials will not be shown on TV, but at an HEB pharmaceuticals convention. (HEB is a big grocery store chain in texas.) the three commercials i am doing (i did two yesterday and will do the third one on thursday) are spoofs of popular commercials for GEICO, swiffer mops, and verizon wireless. though they are not particularly creative or innovative in themselves, i had a blast doing them because of the sheer repetition. to do the same 30 seconds of text + action over and over 10 times? love it. also, the guys i was working with were cool and very relaxed, which made it even more enjoyable. so i have officially embarked upon my film career now. the repetition king is here, so watch out!

fourth: this morning our cat was jumping up on us in bed and meowing very insistently. she was using different techniques of meow, soft and whiny, loud and alarming. eventually i got up and followed her very excited trot into the kitchen. she had placed a dead roach right next to her food bowl at some point in the early morning hours. i can only assume it was a gift for us, because when i thanked her and stroked her she purred and began to eat her food, and didn't meow at us again.

revelation lunches

i have great lunches sometimes with people who inspire me. or, to be more precise, the communion between us inspires me. we talk about ideas, like synchronicity: yesterday, ben said he was at a friend's lake house, walking up from the shore and feeling sad and blah. suddenly he felt a sort of exciting streak of fear pass through him. he stopped walking and looked up behind him and a shooting star went streaking across the sky. he said "i'm sure it didn't mean anything, a lot of other people probably saw the same star and thought it meant something," and i said, "of course it meant something, you were the link between the star and your thought that gave it meaning."

during these lunches we talk about people who make things, about the therapy of making things, about the value of the process versus the product, about sitting and being still. we talk about breathing through the nostrils and how that practice makes time a relative element. we talk about physical awareness and how someone could sit for twenty minutes just focusing on their legs.

i love these lunches. i love being productive. i am struggling, i am perfectly content.

we talk about letting go of addictions, about surrendering to pure being and feeling what we feel, not trying to fill in any cravings but sitting with them. all these things touch on the ends of my nerves and travel through my body like electric impulses. it is fun to have these discussions. putting the ideas into practice is a little more challenging. can i sit with myself? can i overcome the addictions i have mindlessly fostered? of course i can.

i focus on a voice, my breath, my legs. i hear machinery roaring on the street. my cat calls out for me.

the dump(lings) of theatre

in total, i made over 350 little russian dumplings this weekend. that's the most i've ever made in one sitting. i had promised beth i'd wear a babooshka while making them, but forgot. i made the lame concession that i was wearing a babooshka of the soul. which, in some sense, i was.

it's good to drink beers while making pelmeni. so i think i probably drank 6 or 7 beers throughout the course of saturday's session, building up my alcohol level considerably for the party on sunday. by the time the party rolled around, though i was having occasional bouts of black-out, i was up and awake and non-vomiting till 3 am.

the show was received in a manner better than was expected. we sold out half the performances and made about 15 thousand dollars. even better, people who had never seen a chekhov play done and had misapprehensions about the viability of such a play were, i think, pleasantly surprised at the outcome. my favorite compliment was from a seasoned director named mary r., who said that we brought the play into present time.

she didn't mean we set the play in 2009, but that we made it relevant for contemporary audiences. for this i am deeply gratified.

in other news...

the annual theatre award ceremony that a certain slice of san antonio engages in is coming up in september, and the plays that have been nominated for honors were announced today. david and i were disappointed to see that THE GOAT was not nominated for anything. as far as i'm concerned, it was the best all-around theatre experience i've had, ever, in san antonio-- from quality of script to direction to fellow actors to tech support to design. so it's kind of a crock when that happens.

it's weird-- you work so hard on something and you pour so much of yourself into it, yet you just never know how it's going to be received. but like i told my students, if you're in theatre, you can never really believe what anyone tells you-- all you can rely on is how you feel about it, and even then, be wary... :-)

pel-o-rama

i made 280 dumplings yesterday, some of which david and i immediately boiled and ate. today we will make more. not sure how many people will come over tonight, but wouldn't want to run out.

quick demo.

ya stroyu zamki iz piska

for the closing of UNCLE VANYA, we will be having a pelmeni party at our house.

pelmeni are russian dumplings, traditionally made with ground beef. i use ground turkey and also spice it up with a lot of garlic and dill. they are served with sour cream and butter, and maybe a dash of vinegar, for that special edge. it's the one dish i know how to make, and i love making it, and i have sort of altered the recipe to my taste over the years...

i may start making them today... make a few batches today and freeze them, make a few batches tomorrow and freeze them, so that we'll have a huge quantity of pelmeni by the time sunday evening rolls around.

we will also get a lot of cucumbers and slice them thinly. sprinkle them with some salt, chopped dill and a little sour cream, voila, salad.

i have been putting together a music playlist for the party. it's mostly jazz, with some tom waits, seu jorge, boris grebenschikov and bjork thrown in.

vanya pics

pictures of our production of UNCLE VANYA:

Go to flickr.com and search lightswerve. It will tell you no matches were found. Click the word people, then lightswerve, and there they’ll be. Right click and save whatever you want. There are some really stunning ones.

backstage wonderings

for today's matinee i watched UNCLE VANYA from backstage. as i've mentioned before, i like seeing the entrances and exits and all the routines the actors and crew have fallen into. something is so satisfying to me about that aspect of the theatre-- the routine of it, how all these little pieces come together to make a well-oiled machine.

i find myself wondering what russians would think of this production.

i wonder if chekhov would like it.

yet again

another review.

this morning we were on Great Day S.A., one of those morning shows where girls chat about stuff. we did a little interview with the host and john & emily did a short scene from the first act of the play. the other guests on the show were a jazz quartet and some people made up for a zombie movie.

jazz,

zombies,

and uncle vanya.

my brain is synapsing to find hidden meanings and connections.

know what you want!

our production of UNCLE VANYA opens tonight. we have all worked so hard on it.

it's an interesting phenomenon: during rehearsal there was a constant sense of discovery, play, and spontaneity which made me feel like we were doing something very fresh and even edgy with this 1896 play. but when we got into the theatre and into set and costumes, the play took on a very traditional, conservative vibe. it was quite distressing for me. the set and costumes are both quite beautiful and add a certain weight of legitimacy to the play, but i could see the actors struggling under that weight to regain the identities we'd established during rehearsals-- those fresh, spontaneous people now heavily costumed and walking on hard, echoey platforms. as rehearsals continued, the actors acclimated and i began to see them shining through the set and costumes again, weren't overwhelmed by them. still, the technical elements are a little stiff, and i mark it as a lesson to remember in the future: know what you want! that age-old nugget of wisdom. know what you want.

here's a critical but well-written review.

fluid conveyor

a conduit.

the woman who ran the group home said it was called "stemming." i've never heard it referred to as such since. it was when one of the guys would start rocking rhythmically, or repeating a certain sound or motion or activity over and over again. i understand those guys. as i'm sitting on my bed right now, in the record texas heat, it feels good to move from the waist up in a circular motion. not because of the heat, but just because.

my boyfriend is making a russian "olivier" salad in the kitchen. we're taking it to a vodka party fundraiser for UNCLE VANYA tomorrow. this is a salad that i had many times while in russia, but never had the proper recipe for. it has potatoes, egg, ham, turkey, pickles, peas, onion, mayo, garlic. it is made up of simple ingredients but combines into a heavenly experience.

rehearsals for UNCLE VANYA could not be going better. we have been productive and i have been able to strike a balance between allowing the actors to play freely and providing them with a modicum of structure. so far it has been thrilling and fulfilling. everyone is the right age for his or her role. i have a girl of 22 playing sonya and a woman of 88 playing marina. it's wonderful. it is also helping me feel empowered about my abilities as a director, because i am directing both young as well as seasoned actors, and we all actually seem to be enjoying the experience! imagine that!

i have been enjoying music by a band called why?. the album i have is called "alocepia," which is the technical term for male baldness. the singer's voice sounds sometimes like they might be giants, but the music has darker subject matter. i have especially been enjoying one song called "fatalist palmistry," the first line of which is as follows: "I sleep on my back, 'cause it's good for the spine, and coffin rehearsal." one day i sang that line over and over in my car.

last night david and i went to the overtime theatre and saw an original show (they do only original/san antonio-based material there) called BUDDHA SWINGS!. it was a musical in 40's swing style telling the story of the buddha. i found it quite smile-inducing and joy-bringing, and it even made me want to go read up on his story myself.

last weekend we saw a play at AtticRep called BLACKBIRD. it is by scottish playwright david harrower. it was about a man and woman meeting in a trashy break room to talk, and as their talk unfolds you learn that the two of them had an intimate relationship when he was 40 and she was 12. he went to prison for 10 years and this play begins when she shows up unexpectedly at his workplace. it was a very complex, sad, sympathetic and ultimately devastating story.

i am reading a collection of short stories called HOW WE ARE HUNGRY by dave eggers. i am liking it a lot. i realize i like it because i think of things from it during the day, like how one character thinks another character over-romanticizes the idea of living abroad.

david and i liked the movie AWAY WE GO a lot.

i have been experimenting with pen and india ink.

my car is in the shop till tomorrow to get an oil leak and a door fixed.

take me out

looks like we sort of pulled it off. go figure.

(though san antonio theatre critics are known to be milquetoasty.)

follow-up

opening weekend went surprisingly well.

the replacement actor completely changed the atmosphere among the actors. he didn't do it intentionally; he is just such a different person that the change happened naturally. the mood lightened and it seemed everyone started having a lot more fun. 

i know i did.

just so you know...

THE GOAT closed and was a pleasure from start to finish.

now i'm in another play, a fun and insightful look at baseball, homophobia, racism and friendship called TAKE ME OUT. the production has been somewhat poorly organized from the beginning, and this past week it manifested a big piece of doo-doo.

the guy playing the lead, who was severely miscast and had chronic trouble remembering what we had done in rehearsal each previous night, WALKED QUIETLY OUT OF REHEARSAL AND DROVE AWAY IN HIS CAR... A WEEK BEFORE WE OPEN. he texted the stage manager, "i can't do this. i need out."

those of us left in the theatre sat stunned. some with incredulous smiles, some with angry grimaces, some simply flummoxed. the next day this annoying person who quit wrote us all an e-mail stating that he disagreed with the nudity in the play and the way the nudity was being dealt with. (the play features baseball players in shower scenes, and the nudity is valid because it clearly illustrates the vulnerability these macho men feel, both as men and as baseball players, in light of their teammate's recent outing of himself to the press.) this excuse put forth by the annoying person who quit was a complete fabrication and a flimsy one at that, to cover the fact that he couldn't retain any information about his blocking, entrances and exits, or even his intentions as a character within the play. what's more, he came to his final rehearsal high on pain killers, after some invasive 'surgery' the day before. quotation marks very intentional.

so he left.

oh my god, i thought. what's going to happen? i thought, "if he comes back, i don't know what i'll do. i'm so appalled and disgusted by his behavior, and my character is supposed to have a crush on his character... i won't be able to maintain onstage with him. i'll sneer, or maybe vomit!"

but what happened is good:

someone who has played the role before has been enlisted, for a moderate fee. he has come from out of town to bail us out of this problem. and he's right for the role! he's the right age, the right ethnicity, and a good actor to work with! 

so, whew. drama!

we open friday. i'll post a report (regardless of whether or not anyone even reads this anymore).

new albums

i met my brother in austin on monday. we met at waterloo records and i purchased leonard cohen's new one, 'live in london,' which is the kind of concert recording you sit and luxuriate in, smiling lazily and maybe occasionally wistfully singing along for a strain or two. so satisfying. i also found a new recording of van morrison singing the entire 'astral weeks' album in concert. it is also beautiful, and contains the lyrics, which i hadn't remembered reading before. 

Little Jimmy's gone

Away out on the back street

Out of the window

To the fallen rain

Right on time, right on time

though the lyrics aren't surprising and pretty much match what i had in my head, it still seems like a small revelation to read them, after just listening all these years.

after waterloo, my brother and i had mexican food and then went to stubb's, where we saw gomez, a rock band originally from the UK. they were great and a little too loud (have my ears grown more sensitive with age, or am i just now noticing it?). mostly it was just fun being at a concert with my brother, whom i love.

i'm in another play, 'take me out,' which opens a week from today. it is perhaps the most ill-prepared production i've ever been a part of. the two leads are still very much on book, the production values are haphazard, the director seems blissfully ignorant. i can't understand how he's not frantic and humiliated at this point. i don't enjoy being a part of it, but as i said to fran today, i am opting to see the experience as a challenge and adventure. everything's for a reason.

kyogen details

my first exposure to the japanese kyogen was with KITUS. we did an interpretation of 'the fox mound' as part of our moun-tain extravaganza carnivore (the one we performed in 110 degree heat at rehoboth art league, complete with fur coats, while people were dying in philadelphia and chickens were suffocating in their cages surrounding the schoolhouse). 

when i was asked to work with the 5th graders at my alma mater, st. luke's episcopal school, i was told that the previous year, the entire play had consisted of a bicentennial parade. i didn't want to do something baby-ish, but i knew that there needed to be a sense of play about the production. i was very excited when, one slightly inebriated evening on my front porch, the idea of the kyogen popped into my mind.

back in the 14th century, these short comedic plays were used as intermission material between Noh plays, as a sort of refresher for the audience, so that they could get some laughs out before coming back for another epic tragedy. most of the kyogen deal with people playing tricks on each other, and most of them end with one character becoming enraged and chasing another, shouting "don't let him get away! catch him! catch him!"

i made sure the kids knew that whenever they heard the phrase "catch him," they were supposed to shout the second "catch him!" in unison, and with great volume and energy. that part worked really well.

another thing that was fun was using the kids as objects. i have always loved the american tradition of playing an inanimate object as a child. ask people you know, many of them will say, "oh, i've never been in a play, except for that time i played a doorknob in 2nd grade." stuff like that. so i made these 5th graders play doors, trees, tables, fences. that was fun.

they did an amazingly good job with the language, as well, which at times was pretty challenging-- sentences like "I am a wealthy landowner who dwells in this vicinity."

we set up the stage so that there was a red carpet coming out to make an aisle down from the stage into the middle of the audience, which led to a sort of pagoda-like umbrella at the far end of the audience. so that the action was more integrated into the audience. i think that helped a lot. 

costumes were basic accessories on top of a black t-shirt/pants base. lots of hats and jackets. 

it was fun.

week in review

it was a big and satisfying week for me.

on monday the 25th i met my sister at rudy's in leon springs for a little post-birthday lunch. i got to hang out with my sister and brother-in-law a little, and after that i went to st. luke's for our final dress rehearsal of the kyogen plays. though the rehearsal was predictably chaotic, with kids coming and going at all hours and not an optimum level of concentration, i had already decided to take it easy and roll with the punches, and it all went fine.

on tuesday the 26th i stayed at st. luke's pretty much the whole day. we had a rehearsal in the morning from 9:30 to 11:15. i set up the parish hall while kids were having lunch. at 2:30 we did a show for students and parents. after the show we had pizza and japanese sodas and talked about the performance. then we did a speed-through. then it was time for our 6:00 performance. it went well, the kids were adorable. though i wished we'd had more time to work on things, i think the bottom line is that the kids had a great time and will remember the experience, overall, positively. that evening i met scott mcdowell, a local playwright, at barnes & noble, to talk about his sequel to the play i directed of his last summer. it is a film noir-inspired trilogy and i think it's going to be a lot of fun.

on wednesday the 27th i had lunch with my friend michele. we talked about falling in love with animals (she is smitten with a gibbon at the zoo) and she told me she knows a guy who is making a zombie movie and that she would recommend me to him. that evening david and i had a dinner party for 4 of our friends-- two other couples. it was low-key with good food and good conversations.

on thursday the 28th we had a production meeting for 'uncle vanya', with this great technical team that has assembled to work on the project. margaret, who is handling costumes, is doing incredible research and has designed such beautiful things for the show. we had it at her house. we discussed concepts, transitions, looks. it was a good meeting. in the evening we began our final weekend of performances for 'the goat.'

'the goat' has been such an unabashedly fun and drama-free experience. the actors, technical team and director have been a pleasure to work with. yesterday, at our final performance, the house was packed. gloria and i kept shards of broken pottery as keepsakes. we took pictures. i had a blocking rehearsal for 'take me out,' and after that, joined the cast party for 'the goat' which was already in progress. 

friday phrases

my black backpack is the cat's pillow.

my russian friend's daughter is in russian commercials for heart medicine and clotted cream.

the play i'm in is a lot of fun to perform, and last night we had a talk-back after the show.

i'm meeting a new acting student tomorrow.

the 5th grade play is tuesday and we won't be ready, but it will be adorable.

the weather has been perfect this week.

yesterday i made rice and turkey with swiss cheese.

funny

i'm not one of those hilarious people. i might say one mildly funny thing a day. usually when i'm funniest is when i didn't intend it, like tripping while going up the stairs, or dribbling food on my shirt, or boogers. sometimes i'll say something funny and people will laugh and that's gratifying. but i think that in general i've always been something of a serious person. not so much dramatic necessarily, but introspective.

reaction

cold and impenetrable, the way people are. the way you try to make yourself. they're like, it's too much, i've got to draw the line somewhere, i can't be just absorbing all this stuff all the time, i've got to draw the line, there has to be a limit here somewhere. thereby cold and impenetrable. not even sure if there IS anyone else, that's how impenetrable. but there are other assurances, other things to turn to that make things OK. people who care what you say, sort of, for whatever reason, though it be selfish, ah yes, ah well, that's ok, that's all right. at least on some level they're listening. sort of.

123 favorite albums

i indulged myself. i went through my music and chose the albums i like the most. it came to 123 albums (though some are multiple-disc albums), which equals about five consecutive days of listening. here they are in alphabetical order.

A Tribe Called Quest: People's Instinctive Travels and Paths of Rhythm

Laurie Anderson: Home of the Brave

Fiona Apple: When the Pawn...

The Arcade Fire: Neon Bible

Joan Armatrading: Joan Armatrading

Joan Armatrading: Walk Under Ladders

Louis Armstrong & Duke Ellington: The Great Summit

Mulatu Astatke: Ethiopiques, Vol. 4: Ethio Jazz & Musique Instrumentale

The Avett Brothers: Emotionalism

The B-52's: Time Capsule: Songs for a Future Generation

J.S. Bach: St. Matthew Passion

The Beatles: The White Album

Pierre Bensusan: Musiques

Bjork: Live Box

Bjork: Medulla

David Bowie: Hunky Dory

Billy Bragg: Must I Paint You a Picture?: The Essential Billy Bragg

Kate Bush: The Kick Inside

Kate Bush: The Dreaming

Kate Bush: Hounds of Love

John Cage: Prepared Piano Sonatas & Interludes

Ben Charest: The Triplets of Belleville

The Clash: London Calling

Cocteau Twins: Victorialand

Elvis Costello: My Aim is True

Elvis Costello: Imperial Bedroom

Crowded House: Crowded House

De La Soul: 3 Feet High and Rising

De La Soul: Buhloone Mind State

Iris Dement: Infamous Angel

Thomas Dolby: The Flat Earth

Bob Dylan: Blood on the Tracks

Duke Ellington & John Coltrane: Duke Ellington & John Coltrane

Eurythmics: Be Yourself Tonight

Donald Fagen: The Nightfly

The Flaming Lips: Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots

Djivan Gasparyan: I Will Not Be Sad in This World

Glover Gill: Waking Life

Girl Talk: Feed the Animals

Philip Glass: Glass: Saxophone

Philip Glass: La Belle et La Bete

Jose Gonzalez: Veneer

Boris Grebenshikov & Aquarium: The Favorite Songs of Ramses IV

Tommy Guerrero: Soul Food Taqueria

Guided By Voices: Under the Bushes Under the Stars

Robyn Hitchcock: I Often Dream of Trains

Iron & Wine: The Creek Drank the Cradle

Joe Jackson: Jumpin' Jive

Rickie Lee Jones: Pirates

Rickie Lee Jones: Pop Pop

Louis Jordan: Five Guys Named Moe

Robert Earl Keen: No Kinda Dancer

The Kinks: The Kinks Are the Village Green Preservation Society

K'naan: Troubadour

Latin Playboys: Latin Playboys

Los Lobos: Kiko

Lyle Lovett: Pontiac

The Magnetic Fields: The Charm of the Highway Strip

The Magnetic Fields: 69 Love Songs

Taj Mahal & Toumani Diabate: Kulanjan

Manu Chao: Proxima Estacion: Esperanza

Wynton Marsalis Septet: Live at the Village Vanguard

MGMT: Oracular Spectacular

Charles Mingus: Mingus Plays Piano

Joni Mitchell: Court and Spark

Joni Mitchell: Hejira

The Modern Lovers: The Modern Lovers

Van Morrison: Astral Weeks

Van Morrison: No Guru, No Method, No Teacher

My Morning Jacket: Z

Joanna Newsom: Ys

Liz Phair: Exile in Guyville

Pixies: Doolittle

Prince: Purple Rain

John Prine: In Spite of Ourselves

The Proclaimers: This is the Story

Sergei Prokofiev: Piano Concerto #3

Giacomo Puccini: La Boheme

R.E.M.: Murmur

R.E.M.: Life's Rich Pageant

Radiohead: Kid A

Radiohead: In Rainbows

Gilda Radner: Live From New York

Lou Reed & John Cale: Songs for Drella

The Replacements: Let it Be

The Roches: The Roches

Roxy Music: Roxy Music

Roxy Music: Live

Todd Rundgren: A Wizard, A True Star

The Rustavi Choir: Georgian Voices

Santigold: Santigold

Michelle Shocked: Short Sharp Shocked

Shonen Knife: Pretty Little Baka Guy

Nina Simone: The Soul of Nina Simone

The Smiths: Meat is Murder

Elliott Smith: Elliott Smith

Patti Smith: Horses

Devon Sproule: Upstate Songs

Steely Dan: Pretzel Logic

Sufjan Stevens: Greetings from Michigan

David Sylvian & Holger Czukay: Flux + Mutability

Talking Heads: Sand in the Vaseline

James Taylor: Greatest Hits

Television: Marquee Moon

They Might Be Giants: Then

Tom Tom Club: Tom Tom Club

TV on the Radio: Desperate Youth, Blood Thirsty Babes

TV on the Radio: Dear Science

Suzanne Vega: Suzanne Vega

The Velvet Underground: VU

Rufus Wainwright: Rufus Wainwright

Tom Waits: Rain Dogs

Tom Waits: Frank's Wild Years

Wilco: Sky Blue Sky

Lucinda Williams: Car Wheels on a Gravel Road

Stevie Wonder: Songs in the Key of Life

X: Beyond & Back: The X Anthology

XTC: English Settlement

XTC: Skylarking

Neil Young: Harvest

Frank Zappa: Apostrophe/Overnite Sensation

Frank Zappa: Hot Rats

Frank Zappa: The Yellow Shark

mother's day

i wouldn't say i'm estranged from my mom. but i'm not exactly close to her either. i get the sense that we should be closer. we have been closer in the past. i have a lot of love for her. but the last few times we talked i ended up feeling kinda shitty at the end of the conversation. of late she has been casting aspersions upon the play i'm currently in, THE GOAT by edward albee. it is her right to cast aspersions and in truth i would expect nothing less. indeed, neither would albee-- he'd probably be proud. 

i wonder if i'm getting more sensitive as i get older. in terms of my acting, this may be a good thing; but in terms of life, this overbearing sensitivity is crippling. why should several negative comments about THE GOAT cause a rift of apathy between my mother and me? 

my mom was a really good mom while we were growing up, for the following reasons: she told me i was creative and imaginative, instilled creative confidence in me; she was positive and loving and almost never lost her temper; she taught me how to pray-- a skill that, though my spiritual leanings have changed, has always served me well; she read THE LION, THE WITCH, AND THE WARDROBE to us once-- to my brother and i, at night before we went to bed, for how ever long it took to get through the whole thing, maybe a month?

i love my mom very much.

phrases in english

poem about paris

waiting for friends to come over

samples and flow laced over drumbeats

all the fans on, air hot

drenched in sweat

mopping the floor

homemade samosas

walk to gas station

pockets filled with chocolate

painting of apartment building

cat sacked out lengthwise

things hidden

i don't want to talk about it

that won't stay up

postcards stuck to the side of my dresser

holding on to things from fifteen years ago

shelves with pictures

wet paper towel sucks up dust

a tree softening a harsh corner

you never write to me

beads hanging on a hook

empty gift bag

belt hanging on a doorknob

emptied recycling bin

lamp stays on

beer at 5 pm

we hugged a tree

picture of the sky

picture of shadows

bee lady

there once was a bee lady who kept bees.

she'd get them at night, after twenty planets appeared.