i have two sets of keys. i keep my home/car keys in my right pocket. i keep my school keys in my left pocket. i keep my phone in my left pocket. if i'm carrying my ipod, i keep it in my right pocket. i keep my wallet in my back right pocket. i usually carry a pen in my back right pocket. i don't usually carry anything in my back left pocket. if i'm wearing a shirt with a breast pocket, i sometimes keep my pen there.
sometimes i back up into my parking space, sometimes i just pull in forward, it depends on how tired i am and what activities i'm looking forward to the next day.
when i get home i put my keys, wallet, glasses, watch and phone down on the little counter next to the door and i put my bag on the dining room chair. i say hi to my cat. i kick my shoes off. i keep three pairs of shoes, the most commonly used ones, in my living room at the base of the shelving where the TV is. those three pairs are my black sneakers, my black 'nice' shoes, and my flip-flops. sometimes when i wear other shoes i kick them there too, but i always eventually clear them back to the closet.
when i get to school i open the outside door and unlock it with a little allen wrench on my keychain. then i open the other outside door with the same allen wrench. then i open the classroom with the MKAB key, and the black box with the same key. then i open my office with the AC11 key. i prop my office door open with a little wooden frog doorstop from sam. i turn on two lamps, one by my desk and one in the corner, and turn on the computer. i put on some music. i usually have about an hour in my office and the vicinity before school starts. i check email, talk to students, check my mailbox in the main building, make a list of things to do for the day.
i like the little routines, the little consistencies in the midst of unpredictable life.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Monday, May 07, 2007
process and product: a colon-infested run-down of the UIL OAP
i hate to give in to hackneyed catchphrases, but on some level most of them are true; otherwise why would they be hackneyed?
the catchphrase of the day is "the journey is more important than the destination."
the phrase directly applies to my experience at the state UIL one-act play competition in austin. from 5 am saturday morning until 4 am sunday morning, the one-act party raged on.
5 am: wake up, shower, dress
5:30 am: with robin, our parent representative and truck driver, i go get truck full of furniture and props for our play, which is parked at our bus driver's motel somewhere north on I-35
6:00 am: take truck to the back of bass concert hall in order to load our stuff into the theatre; when we get there, four other schools are already lined up with their big trucks, waiting
6:45 am: meet a small group of our students and load our stuff into the theatre, hand it over to student stagehands who put it on rolling carts and take it away
7:30 am: meeting of all schools in the theatre to hear congratulations, warnings, guidelines and sales pitches (a representative of UT did a little recruiting)
8:30 am: load the bus and go get breakfast at IHOP
10:30 am: return to theatre to meet our runner, tammy, and be shown our dressing room, in the basement washroom of the concert hall
11:15 am: our 50-minute rehearsal commences on the stage, in which we spike the set, run sound cues, run light cues, problem-shoot, get special items approved (ostensibly)...
and here i should launch into a brief parenthetical foray in order to tell you that the vines i wanted to use (and had used in the previous four competitions) were rejected because they were real vines, and in the UIL rule book it is stated "cloth vines may be used." even though there is no only in that sentence, the technical director deemed my vines unconstitutional, and though they weren't integral to the show, it was irritating to have them rejected when
there was clearly nothing written condemning them in the rules...
12:05 pm: our 50-minute rehearsal concludes, having gone quite well, smoothly, and with an incredible amount of energy and a heightened sense of the stakes, which makes it all quite sparkling and fun, and in that huge concert hall... i think it was my favorite part of the whole day. at any rate, we load back onto the bus and head back to the hotel
12:15 pm - 3:15 pm: break for naps, lunch, swimming and rejuvenation. i take a nap and don't eat, not hungry
3:15 pm: group warm-up in small conference room, fourth floor
4:15 pm: bus picks us up to take us back to the theatre, side door entrance
4:30 pm: arrival at theatre, tammy isn't there but another runner takes us to our room in the basement and we immediately start putting on makeup and costumes. over the intercom system we can hear the first play of the afternoon, DANCING AT LUGHNASA, already in performance. before we go on, THE LITTLE FOXES and ROSENCRANZ AND GUILDENSTERN ARE DEAD still have to perform. disgruntled, i snip off pieces of my condemned ivy and am determined to let our masha and medvedyenko use them for the opening of the play, as incidental gazing-pieces; my hopes are quickly quashed, however, by my colleague, who is paranoid about the rules and is looking at me with a ridiculous intensity that makes my stomach hurt, so i throw all the ivy away in the trash can. then i help students with their makeup, wigs, and costumes. sorin has left one of his costumes behind. pants and shirt are substituted. we're all ready by
6:00 pm: the characters circle up to do vocal warm-ups, with less spirit than in the past, maybe because of nerves, and the other director and i say a few words to the actors; a few tears drop, a few laughs are uttered, we hold hands in a circle and are ready to go
6:15 pm: we're taken upstairs to wait for our time to go
6:25 pm: we're taken onstage to set up for our show. they tell us go, and we go. we use the seven-minute set-up period and get everything placed, with a few hesitations, a few near-miss accidents, a few questions, and a few "don't worry about it"s
6:33 pm: our play begins
this is where the hackneyed catchphrase comes in. the play wasn't stunning, had a lot of little glitches, the audience was loud (coughing, whispering, shuffling, giggling), and i can't even remember certain moments of it. it was nice to have CY sitting next to me, chuckling at
small idiosynchracies of character that chekhov so perceptively included in his play. yet i was sort of detached for the moment of truth, the moment to which everything had been leading. it wasn't glorious. and i'm not complaining-- the students did a wonderful job; besides,
i'm learning as i get older that it's actually much nicer to enjoy the process more than the product: it lasts longer!
7:12 pm: the curtain falls. i say a few (regrettably) rushed words to CY, and run backstage for our seven-minute strike. a beer bottle shatters backstage. as we load the truck, a glass decanter (masha took swigs of vodka from it) also meets its demise. robin has brought the truck back around during our show, and while some of us get out of costume and makeup, others of us load the truck during the next play, a brecht piece about ARTURO UI, and finally make it out to the house by
8:15 pm: to see PAGANINI, to meet friend beth and sit in the theatre with her, and after that, at
9:15 pm: RUTHLESS!, a well-done over-the-top comedy in the vein of the bad seed and all about eve.
10:15 pm: the final play, ROUND AND ROUND THE GARDEN, we've all seen before, so we exit the theatre to get some fresh air during that one, socialize, talk about our show, talk about the two we saw, and generally enjoy each other's company
11:15 pm: we re-enter the theatre for the SCO-SHOW (sp?), in which the theatre staff has put together a slide-show satirizing the plays of the day, followed by a sluggish yet brightly-colored awards ceremony. our students receive an honorable mention award (for masha) and two all-star cast awards (for konstantine and arkadina). our play receives third place in the contest, which i am personally quite happy with. not bad for first-timers
12:30 am: we receive a sensitive but too-short critique from our adjudicator. he says we "did chekhov right." he means the comedy, melodrama and moment-to-moment-ness of it all
1:00 am: we get back in our bus and head to kerbey lane cafe on south lamar. we wait forever, are finally seated (there are 21 of us, including the adults and my friend ben mcdonald who has joined us for post-show festivities), and we eat. we don't get out of there till
3:45 am: and get to bed at
4:00 am.
it was really fun. i'd say it was a blast. but the most-fun part wasn't watching the performance, which was good but not the best it had ever been. the most-fun part is, after all, the process leading up to the product... and i feel fine.
(first place went to RUTHLESS! and second place to ROSENCRANZ & GUILDENSTERN.)
the catchphrase of the day is "the journey is more important than the destination."
the phrase directly applies to my experience at the state UIL one-act play competition in austin. from 5 am saturday morning until 4 am sunday morning, the one-act party raged on.
5 am: wake up, shower, dress
5:30 am: with robin, our parent representative and truck driver, i go get truck full of furniture and props for our play, which is parked at our bus driver's motel somewhere north on I-35
6:00 am: take truck to the back of bass concert hall in order to load our stuff into the theatre; when we get there, four other schools are already lined up with their big trucks, waiting
6:45 am: meet a small group of our students and load our stuff into the theatre, hand it over to student stagehands who put it on rolling carts and take it away
7:30 am: meeting of all schools in the theatre to hear congratulations, warnings, guidelines and sales pitches (a representative of UT did a little recruiting)
8:30 am: load the bus and go get breakfast at IHOP
10:30 am: return to theatre to meet our runner, tammy, and be shown our dressing room, in the basement washroom of the concert hall
11:15 am: our 50-minute rehearsal commences on the stage, in which we spike the set, run sound cues, run light cues, problem-shoot, get special items approved (ostensibly)...
and here i should launch into a brief parenthetical foray in order to tell you that the vines i wanted to use (and had used in the previous four competitions) were rejected because they were real vines, and in the UIL rule book it is stated "cloth vines may be used." even though there is no only in that sentence, the technical director deemed my vines unconstitutional, and though they weren't integral to the show, it was irritating to have them rejected when
there was clearly nothing written condemning them in the rules...
12:05 pm: our 50-minute rehearsal concludes, having gone quite well, smoothly, and with an incredible amount of energy and a heightened sense of the stakes, which makes it all quite sparkling and fun, and in that huge concert hall... i think it was my favorite part of the whole day. at any rate, we load back onto the bus and head back to the hotel
12:15 pm - 3:15 pm: break for naps, lunch, swimming and rejuvenation. i take a nap and don't eat, not hungry
3:15 pm: group warm-up in small conference room, fourth floor
4:15 pm: bus picks us up to take us back to the theatre, side door entrance
4:30 pm: arrival at theatre, tammy isn't there but another runner takes us to our room in the basement and we immediately start putting on makeup and costumes. over the intercom system we can hear the first play of the afternoon, DANCING AT LUGHNASA, already in performance. before we go on, THE LITTLE FOXES and ROSENCRANZ AND GUILDENSTERN ARE DEAD still have to perform. disgruntled, i snip off pieces of my condemned ivy and am determined to let our masha and medvedyenko use them for the opening of the play, as incidental gazing-pieces; my hopes are quickly quashed, however, by my colleague, who is paranoid about the rules and is looking at me with a ridiculous intensity that makes my stomach hurt, so i throw all the ivy away in the trash can. then i help students with their makeup, wigs, and costumes. sorin has left one of his costumes behind. pants and shirt are substituted. we're all ready by
6:00 pm: the characters circle up to do vocal warm-ups, with less spirit than in the past, maybe because of nerves, and the other director and i say a few words to the actors; a few tears drop, a few laughs are uttered, we hold hands in a circle and are ready to go
6:15 pm: we're taken upstairs to wait for our time to go
6:25 pm: we're taken onstage to set up for our show. they tell us go, and we go. we use the seven-minute set-up period and get everything placed, with a few hesitations, a few near-miss accidents, a few questions, and a few "don't worry about it"s
6:33 pm: our play begins
this is where the hackneyed catchphrase comes in. the play wasn't stunning, had a lot of little glitches, the audience was loud (coughing, whispering, shuffling, giggling), and i can't even remember certain moments of it. it was nice to have CY sitting next to me, chuckling at
small idiosynchracies of character that chekhov so perceptively included in his play. yet i was sort of detached for the moment of truth, the moment to which everything had been leading. it wasn't glorious. and i'm not complaining-- the students did a wonderful job; besides,
i'm learning as i get older that it's actually much nicer to enjoy the process more than the product: it lasts longer!
7:12 pm: the curtain falls. i say a few (regrettably) rushed words to CY, and run backstage for our seven-minute strike. a beer bottle shatters backstage. as we load the truck, a glass decanter (masha took swigs of vodka from it) also meets its demise. robin has brought the truck back around during our show, and while some of us get out of costume and makeup, others of us load the truck during the next play, a brecht piece about ARTURO UI, and finally make it out to the house by
8:15 pm: to see PAGANINI, to meet friend beth and sit in the theatre with her, and after that, at
9:15 pm: RUTHLESS!, a well-done over-the-top comedy in the vein of the bad seed and all about eve.
10:15 pm: the final play, ROUND AND ROUND THE GARDEN, we've all seen before, so we exit the theatre to get some fresh air during that one, socialize, talk about our show, talk about the two we saw, and generally enjoy each other's company
11:15 pm: we re-enter the theatre for the SCO-SHOW (sp?), in which the theatre staff has put together a slide-show satirizing the plays of the day, followed by a sluggish yet brightly-colored awards ceremony. our students receive an honorable mention award (for masha) and two all-star cast awards (for konstantine and arkadina). our play receives third place in the contest, which i am personally quite happy with. not bad for first-timers
12:30 am: we receive a sensitive but too-short critique from our adjudicator. he says we "did chekhov right." he means the comedy, melodrama and moment-to-moment-ness of it all
1:00 am: we get back in our bus and head to kerbey lane cafe on south lamar. we wait forever, are finally seated (there are 21 of us, including the adults and my friend ben mcdonald who has joined us for post-show festivities), and we eat. we don't get out of there till
3:45 am: and get to bed at
4:00 am.
it was really fun. i'd say it was a blast. but the most-fun part wasn't watching the performance, which was good but not the best it had ever been. the most-fun part is, after all, the process leading up to the product... and i feel fine.
(first place went to RUTHLESS! and second place to ROSENCRANZ & GUILDENSTERN.)
Monday, April 30, 2007
ouchie! i've become one of those sporadic bloggers... the kind i dislike. sorry 'bout that.
our state meet for the one-act play is saturday. we will take a bus to austin on friday morning and spend the day doing fun activities, going to bed early so that we can get up very early on saturday morning, so that we can take our truck full o' schtuff to the loading dock of bass concert hall at 6:30 am to unload all our schtuff. i don't usually say schtuff; it's getting annoying; ok i'll stop. so we'll unload, then have a meeting at 7:30 am with all the other schools, then go away for a couple hours, then come back, have a 50-minute rehearsal on the stage where we'll spike, check light and sound cues, and get somewhat acclimated. then we go away forever and come back at 5 pm, for a 6:30 pm-ish performance.
i got two new 6-foot ficus trees (the old ones were 4-foot) and a new trunk to use for arkadina's luggage. it's an old german trunk i rented from an antique store on hildebrand. today while cutting rope to make a handle for the trunk i gashed my left-hand ring finger deep on the middle knuckle. it wasn't that bad, but because it was on the knuckle it grossed me out, you know that cartilagey feeling. i got a bandage for it. later when i took the bandage off there was tons of dried blood all over my finger and in the bandage. it was carnage incarnate.
i did yoga this morning for the first time in months. i sweated out toxins.
i got enough rest this weekend to make me feel refreshed for the first time in months. i slept out toxins.
i'm excited for state. there are two jillion things they make you remember, but i am determined to enjoy it.
my friend dena has a son who wrote the following poem. i love it.
THE SPACE TRIP, by Ben Geoghegan
I’m going to the
Moon today. It’s going
To take a year.
By the time I
Get back my wife
Will be 30.
I’m going in my
Rocket now.
I hope I
See some aliens.
If I do I’m
Going to run over
Them with my buggy.
If there are no
Aliens I’d rather jump
In the holes.
Next time I’m going
To bring my wife,
And I’ll push her
In the holes.
our state meet for the one-act play is saturday. we will take a bus to austin on friday morning and spend the day doing fun activities, going to bed early so that we can get up very early on saturday morning, so that we can take our truck full o' schtuff to the loading dock of bass concert hall at 6:30 am to unload all our schtuff. i don't usually say schtuff; it's getting annoying; ok i'll stop. so we'll unload, then have a meeting at 7:30 am with all the other schools, then go away for a couple hours, then come back, have a 50-minute rehearsal on the stage where we'll spike, check light and sound cues, and get somewhat acclimated. then we go away forever and come back at 5 pm, for a 6:30 pm-ish performance.
i got two new 6-foot ficus trees (the old ones were 4-foot) and a new trunk to use for arkadina's luggage. it's an old german trunk i rented from an antique store on hildebrand. today while cutting rope to make a handle for the trunk i gashed my left-hand ring finger deep on the middle knuckle. it wasn't that bad, but because it was on the knuckle it grossed me out, you know that cartilagey feeling. i got a bandage for it. later when i took the bandage off there was tons of dried blood all over my finger and in the bandage. it was carnage incarnate.
i did yoga this morning for the first time in months. i sweated out toxins.
i got enough rest this weekend to make me feel refreshed for the first time in months. i slept out toxins.
i'm excited for state. there are two jillion things they make you remember, but i am determined to enjoy it.
my friend dena has a son who wrote the following poem. i love it.
THE SPACE TRIP, by Ben Geoghegan
I’m going to the
Moon today. It’s going
To take a year.
By the time I
Get back my wife
Will be 30.
I’m going in my
Rocket now.
I hope I
See some aliens.
If I do I’m
Going to run over
Them with my buggy.
If there are no
Aliens I’d rather jump
In the holes.
Next time I’m going
To bring my wife,
And I’ll push her
In the holes.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Sunday, April 08, 2007
play play
our little lovely production of chekhov's SEAGULL has advanced through zone, district and area and will compete in the regional one-act play meet on friday april 13th. we will compete against five other schools from our region, one of which is a san antonio school (marshall). if we are chosen to advance from region, we will then get to go to the state meet in lovely austin, texas the first weekend in may.
it has been really fun! unfortunately i'm now quite ill, with a painful cough and head congestion, and i've been missing a lot of school lately; but the extra energy expended for work on the one-act has been well worth it.
not much fodder for interesting blogging, just an update so anyone interested will know where i've been.
it has been really fun! unfortunately i'm now quite ill, with a painful cough and head congestion, and i've been missing a lot of school lately; but the extra energy expended for work on the one-act has been well worth it.
not much fodder for interesting blogging, just an update so anyone interested will know where i've been.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
uil oap
it's one-act play time again. this year not only are we competing, we're also hosting the competition at our school. next year we will also host. our contest manager has been great-- laid-back and soft-spoken. but let me back up for a minute...
back in january when i was three weeks into rehearsal for A LIE OF THE MIND, i got a notice saying that because my cutting was done on a xerox copy of the play, it was illegal and therefore inadmissable. so my colleague and i had to look to the list of approved plays and choose something we thought we could get jazzed about. since we had just done an original version of chekhov's SEAGULL in the black box, we decided we would take jean-claude van itallie's translation (the only UIL-approved version of the play) and turn it into our new one-act play. our actors were already familiar with the characters, and it's one of my favorite plays; what's not to like?
of course it was hard telling the kids that we were switching over to SEAGULL after working on A LIE OF THE MIND for three weeks, but they seemed amenable to the idea of picking up SEAGULL again. so, during SOUTH PACIFIC performances, i made a new cutting, and we started working on this chekhov loveliness.
why do i love chekhov? i had a great experience with SEAGULL when i was in college, an experience which drove me to live in russia for almost a year. i got to play treplev in the moscow art theatre and fell in love with many russians. so i guess my view of SEAGULL is a little loaded with history.
this time, directing THE SEA GULL was different-- different translation, cliff's notes edition (40-minute cutting), slightly different cast, and the obligation to collaborate with my colleague, with whom i get along very well, but with whom i have serious differences in aesthetic vision and working process. since he was recovering from SOUTH PACIFIC when we started rehearsals for THE SEA GULL, i started the rehearsals on the one-act play and was pretty much the only director for the first three weeks of rehearsal. then he stepped in, and the process of collaboration was difficult and awkward-- i'd never done it before like that, and since our ways of working are so different, there were moments when i wanted to scream, or cry, or give up. but i found that honesty was the best way to go, so along the way i did my best to express my frustrations and work them out in a direct way.
also, the process of hosting the competition at our school entailed many tasks which took up a lot of time and energy-- emails, organization, details, schedules... but we managed to take care of things in a pretty functional way. the contest manager we found was very laid-back, as i said before, and had an idea of the true reason for such a competition-- to make it a fun, educational experience for the students, instead of making it fraught with rules and back-stabbing persnickety-ness.
so, this weekend, we had our first competition. we competed against four other schools from our zone, and last night, we won-- we advanced. so we get to perform next week in the district competition. last night we got six acting awards, including best actor and actress. the kids were so thrilled. we hadn't advanced out of zone the past three years. it was a moment of relief and elation.
onward and upward! have i said enough?
back in january when i was three weeks into rehearsal for A LIE OF THE MIND, i got a notice saying that because my cutting was done on a xerox copy of the play, it was illegal and therefore inadmissable. so my colleague and i had to look to the list of approved plays and choose something we thought we could get jazzed about. since we had just done an original version of chekhov's SEAGULL in the black box, we decided we would take jean-claude van itallie's translation (the only UIL-approved version of the play) and turn it into our new one-act play. our actors were already familiar with the characters, and it's one of my favorite plays; what's not to like?
of course it was hard telling the kids that we were switching over to SEAGULL after working on A LIE OF THE MIND for three weeks, but they seemed amenable to the idea of picking up SEAGULL again. so, during SOUTH PACIFIC performances, i made a new cutting, and we started working on this chekhov loveliness.
why do i love chekhov? i had a great experience with SEAGULL when i was in college, an experience which drove me to live in russia for almost a year. i got to play treplev in the moscow art theatre and fell in love with many russians. so i guess my view of SEAGULL is a little loaded with history.
this time, directing THE SEA GULL was different-- different translation, cliff's notes edition (40-minute cutting), slightly different cast, and the obligation to collaborate with my colleague, with whom i get along very well, but with whom i have serious differences in aesthetic vision and working process. since he was recovering from SOUTH PACIFIC when we started rehearsals for THE SEA GULL, i started the rehearsals on the one-act play and was pretty much the only director for the first three weeks of rehearsal. then he stepped in, and the process of collaboration was difficult and awkward-- i'd never done it before like that, and since our ways of working are so different, there were moments when i wanted to scream, or cry, or give up. but i found that honesty was the best way to go, so along the way i did my best to express my frustrations and work them out in a direct way.
also, the process of hosting the competition at our school entailed many tasks which took up a lot of time and energy-- emails, organization, details, schedules... but we managed to take care of things in a pretty functional way. the contest manager we found was very laid-back, as i said before, and had an idea of the true reason for such a competition-- to make it a fun, educational experience for the students, instead of making it fraught with rules and back-stabbing persnickety-ness.
so, this weekend, we had our first competition. we competed against four other schools from our zone, and last night, we won-- we advanced. so we get to perform next week in the district competition. last night we got six acting awards, including best actor and actress. the kids were so thrilled. we hadn't advanced out of zone the past three years. it was a moment of relief and elation.
onward and upward! have i said enough?
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
letter to ldn
Dear Mr. Naegelin,
You'll be glad to know my mom and dad are doing fine. They're both retired and they golf as much as they want. My dad watches a lot of tv and likes it when my mom sits down and watches with him, though it's usually sports so she usually falls asleep. They're thinking about moving and so they've started cleaning their house, going through boxes, which leads me to the reason I'm writing this letter tonight.
The last time I went to see Mom and Dad, they had a couple of big boxes of stuff for me to go through. It was my old stuff-- papers, letters and photos, and a lot of bad poetry from high school. The most interesting thing I found was a folder from my senior year in your class.
You might be surprised at my next exclamation. Goddammit! You were the closest thing I've ever had to a mentor, and now that I realize how much you cared, and what a great teacher you were, you're gone. It's too late to express my thanks, too late to call you up and ask you to come over for dinner. It's too late to apologize. I was such a stupid young person. On your "Think Tests," I answered complex questions with flimsy, scarcely thought-out answers, using too many semi-colons and not enough substance. On your comments, you said as much, but always ended with an exhortation. You wrote "You're capable of so much." Why can't you still be here, so that I can try to deserve that encouragement? Why can't I discuss those philosophical questions with you now? Why didn't I care enough, why wasn't I smart enough to reflect on the nature of Good and Evil beyond "God is the ultimate measure"?
I'm infuriated, and not even engaged enough to cry.
I realize you were no saint, and I'm old enough now to appreciate that. In one of her songs, Laurie Anderson says, "When my father died, it was like an entire library had burned down." That's how I feel about you.
Come back!
Come back... please...
Help me achieve what I'm capable of, and let me tell you how grateful I am, and how much I love you for caring so, so much...
Sincerely,
Andy
You'll be glad to know my mom and dad are doing fine. They're both retired and they golf as much as they want. My dad watches a lot of tv and likes it when my mom sits down and watches with him, though it's usually sports so she usually falls asleep. They're thinking about moving and so they've started cleaning their house, going through boxes, which leads me to the reason I'm writing this letter tonight.
The last time I went to see Mom and Dad, they had a couple of big boxes of stuff for me to go through. It was my old stuff-- papers, letters and photos, and a lot of bad poetry from high school. The most interesting thing I found was a folder from my senior year in your class.
You might be surprised at my next exclamation. Goddammit! You were the closest thing I've ever had to a mentor, and now that I realize how much you cared, and what a great teacher you were, you're gone. It's too late to express my thanks, too late to call you up and ask you to come over for dinner. It's too late to apologize. I was such a stupid young person. On your "Think Tests," I answered complex questions with flimsy, scarcely thought-out answers, using too many semi-colons and not enough substance. On your comments, you said as much, but always ended with an exhortation. You wrote "You're capable of so much." Why can't you still be here, so that I can try to deserve that encouragement? Why can't I discuss those philosophical questions with you now? Why didn't I care enough, why wasn't I smart enough to reflect on the nature of Good and Evil beyond "God is the ultimate measure"?
I'm infuriated, and not even engaged enough to cry.
I realize you were no saint, and I'm old enough now to appreciate that. In one of her songs, Laurie Anderson says, "When my father died, it was like an entire library had burned down." That's how I feel about you.
Come back!
Come back... please...
Help me achieve what I'm capable of, and let me tell you how grateful I am, and how much I love you for caring so, so much...
Sincerely,
Andy
Friday, March 02, 2007
goo-gah
i'm in dallas at the state speech tournament. our school is 5th in the state of texas for number of qualifications this year. yesterday i judged a national finalist in extemporaneous speaking. that's when you get a topic or a question and have half an hour to write a seven minute speech on it, then deliver the speech without notes. it was fun to judge extemp, as i usually don't get to.
i haven't written on my blog in a long time, not sure why. the same old excuse of "too busy" doesn't really cover it.
i'll write again soon when i actually have something to say.
i haven't written on my blog in a long time, not sure why. the same old excuse of "too busy" doesn't really cover it.
i'll write again soon when i actually have something to say.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
revelation
how much do you reveal to the world?
the world teaches us to build walls, not really to knock them down.
knocking them down would mean revealing, opening the way to potential chaos. it would mean making ourselves vulnerable-- vulnerable to attack, ridicule, to being ostracized. but aren't we also ostracized if we build walls? yes, but at least its an ostracism of our own, by our own choice, and not by someone else. there's a semblance of control.
how much do i reveal to the world?
mostly, i'm afraid of being classified or written off based on my revelations. the image that comes to mind is of someone dropping me in a small box and pushing me casually to the side, saying, "next." like when an acquaintance of mine said, "him? he's harmless."
and though my brain is fully capable of realizing that no one else matters, that everyone in the world could drop me in a box and push me to the side and it still wouldn't matter, i'm still aware of it, afraid of it.
i read a quote from playwright marsha norman where she said something like this: every time i write something, i look at it and say, 'have i written something that will humiliate me?'
the only way anything can be moving or lasting is if it comes from an impulse of revelation. something deep and personal must be revealed. this is true in theatre, in visual art, in music, and in everyday life. it's hard to do it in everyday life, because almost no one does it, and you usually feel like a freak to keep yourself open. it's unheard of. i feel that if i do it as a teacher i will be attacked, ridiculed, ostracized. and this gives me pause, even as i type.
the world teaches us to build walls, not really to knock them down.
knocking them down would mean revealing, opening the way to potential chaos. it would mean making ourselves vulnerable-- vulnerable to attack, ridicule, to being ostracized. but aren't we also ostracized if we build walls? yes, but at least its an ostracism of our own, by our own choice, and not by someone else. there's a semblance of control.
how much do i reveal to the world?
mostly, i'm afraid of being classified or written off based on my revelations. the image that comes to mind is of someone dropping me in a small box and pushing me casually to the side, saying, "next." like when an acquaintance of mine said, "him? he's harmless."
and though my brain is fully capable of realizing that no one else matters, that everyone in the world could drop me in a box and push me to the side and it still wouldn't matter, i'm still aware of it, afraid of it.
i read a quote from playwright marsha norman where she said something like this: every time i write something, i look at it and say, 'have i written something that will humiliate me?'
the only way anything can be moving or lasting is if it comes from an impulse of revelation. something deep and personal must be revealed. this is true in theatre, in visual art, in music, and in everyday life. it's hard to do it in everyday life, because almost no one does it, and you usually feel like a freak to keep yourself open. it's unheard of. i feel that if i do it as a teacher i will be attacked, ridiculed, ostracized. and this gives me pause, even as i type.
Saturday, February 03, 2007
part of a poem
an excerpt from rumi
An empty mirror and your worst destructive habits,
when they are held up to each other,
that's when the real making begins.
That's what art and crafting are.
A tailor needs a torn garment to practice his expertise.
The trunks of trees must be cut and cut again
so they can be used for fine carpentry.
Your doctor must have a broken leg to doctor.
Your defects are the ways that glory gets manifested.
Whoever sees clearly what's diseased in himself
begins to gallop on the way.
There is nothing worse
than thinking you are well enough.
More than anything, self-complacency
blocks the workmanship.
Put your vileness up to a mirror and weep.
Get that self-satisfaction flowing out of you!
An empty mirror and your worst destructive habits,
when they are held up to each other,
that's when the real making begins.
That's what art and crafting are.
A tailor needs a torn garment to practice his expertise.
The trunks of trees must be cut and cut again
so they can be used for fine carpentry.
Your doctor must have a broken leg to doctor.
Your defects are the ways that glory gets manifested.
Whoever sees clearly what's diseased in himself
begins to gallop on the way.
There is nothing worse
than thinking you are well enough.
More than anything, self-complacency
blocks the workmanship.
Put your vileness up to a mirror and weep.
Get that self-satisfaction flowing out of you!
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
empathizing
when i watch a movie or a play, if it's in any way effective, i tend to take on the mood of the movie or play, or empathize with the character(s) to such a degree that it's sometimes upsetting. i do this intuitively, almost subconsciously. like when i watched the movie memento twice in succession, that was strange-- i couldn't quite remember who i was. after tootsie i really wanted some falsies. when i watch wings of desire i feel like an invisible angel who can hear things other people can't hear. yentl, dazed & confused, annie, ... you get the idea. well, last night i watched an episode of ricky gervais's and stephen merchant's extras. it was an episode about a star who kept bragging about how he could kick the ass of another star, how he was "harder" and would have no problem nailing him in a fight. at the end the other star confronts the first star and the first star withers pathetically. though extras is meant to be funny, this ending was just sad and... well, no word describes it better than pathetic. and as i walked to my mailbox when it was over, i felt so ultra-pathetic, so sad and wrong. my job, the way i do my job, the way i don't do my job, my relationships, the way i do my relationships, etc., all these things started to point their fingers at me and laugh, sneering. what is going on!?!?, i thought. then i realized i had taken on all the patheticism of extras. i'm glad i realized it in time to stop it in its tracks, climb into bed, and read a little bit more of this fantastic book i bought: an anthology of graphic fiction, cartoons, & true stories, edited by ivan brunetti. a lovely, diverse compendium!
our musical opens tomorrow night. i have severe criticisms of it, as i almost always do. there's no unity in the cast, a lot of nebulous blocking (wandering around stage while singing), a lot of egregious lighting effects, a paucity of actual communication onstage. and no leadership from the director. after last night's rehearsal he didn't even bother to call everyone out on stage before he began to shout out the game plan for tomorrow, much less did he rally everyone to give notes. i have severe disagreements with his methods...
and ah well. and oh my. it's all so important isn't it... and all so temporary...
our musical opens tomorrow night. i have severe criticisms of it, as i almost always do. there's no unity in the cast, a lot of nebulous blocking (wandering around stage while singing), a lot of egregious lighting effects, a paucity of actual communication onstage. and no leadership from the director. after last night's rehearsal he didn't even bother to call everyone out on stage before he began to shout out the game plan for tomorrow, much less did he rally everyone to give notes. i have severe disagreements with his methods...
and ah well. and oh my. it's all so important isn't it... and all so temporary...
Monday, January 29, 2007
mower
more! more! there should be MORE posts on here! not one a week, dammit! there should be at least three a week!
well what should i write about?
anything! your rage! your tenderness! your utter apathy!
speaking of apathy...
the most recent assignment in theatre class is to write a monologue describing your own death. you can be old, young, or in between. you have to write it from your own point of view, and memorize it, and perform it for the class. i saw my 2 classes do these monologues last week and they were, for the most part, pretty darn interesting. people died in all kinds of ways. they were beaten, hit by vehicles, stricken by disease, and there were a couple of suicides. though the assignment sounds morbid, the students really seemed to get into it... a lot of them showed sides of themselves they hadn't shown before. one of my more thoughtful students decided to die of apathy. afterwards i asked her why she chose that, and she said she'd noticed that a lot of the kids she knew didn't seem to care about anything.
i care about things. but sometimes i feel forced to care about things i don't care about at all, like our current musical at the school. it has gobbled up time and space, and this week it will probably make all our theatre classes moot. i wanted to have nothing to do with it, but guilt has gotten the better of me and i am helping out with costumes. it's hard to be in this position of being 1/4th involved. i don't like it at all. in a week it will be over and i can move on to something i do care about, the one-act play.
last week i found out that my cutting of a lie of the mind had been rejected by the UIL state office because i didn't follow the rules in the way i submitted it. it was a hard blow. we were getting somewhere in rehearsal, and it got pulled out from under us. it sucked. so we're doing a one-act version of the seagull, which was already on the UIL "approved" list and which we have some experience with. it's ok. it will be fine. i'm currently waiting on the four van itallie translations i ordered in a blind fever to show up.
i'm not in a blind fever. in fact i'm clear and lucid. maybe that's what makes it so difficult!
well what should i write about?
anything! your rage! your tenderness! your utter apathy!
speaking of apathy...
the most recent assignment in theatre class is to write a monologue describing your own death. you can be old, young, or in between. you have to write it from your own point of view, and memorize it, and perform it for the class. i saw my 2 classes do these monologues last week and they were, for the most part, pretty darn interesting. people died in all kinds of ways. they were beaten, hit by vehicles, stricken by disease, and there were a couple of suicides. though the assignment sounds morbid, the students really seemed to get into it... a lot of them showed sides of themselves they hadn't shown before. one of my more thoughtful students decided to die of apathy. afterwards i asked her why she chose that, and she said she'd noticed that a lot of the kids she knew didn't seem to care about anything.
i care about things. but sometimes i feel forced to care about things i don't care about at all, like our current musical at the school. it has gobbled up time and space, and this week it will probably make all our theatre classes moot. i wanted to have nothing to do with it, but guilt has gotten the better of me and i am helping out with costumes. it's hard to be in this position of being 1/4th involved. i don't like it at all. in a week it will be over and i can move on to something i do care about, the one-act play.
last week i found out that my cutting of a lie of the mind had been rejected by the UIL state office because i didn't follow the rules in the way i submitted it. it was a hard blow. we were getting somewhere in rehearsal, and it got pulled out from under us. it sucked. so we're doing a one-act version of the seagull, which was already on the UIL "approved" list and which we have some experience with. it's ok. it will be fine. i'm currently waiting on the four van itallie translations i ordered in a blind fever to show up.
i'm not in a blind fever. in fact i'm clear and lucid. maybe that's what makes it so difficult!
Monday, January 22, 2007
whoa... sunshine
i've started a new morning pages regimen (writing three pages longhand every morning immediately upon waking up), and i was wondering if that would affect my writing here on the blog. but i don't think it will-- at least not adversely. i think i pick and choose what i write here, which is only natural-- i have a keen awareness that it's public. and i'm protective to the point of semi-paranoia. i'm not sure why this is. i guess i have a keen sense of potential retribution, or i am afraid of my shallowness being revealed. yet, by not revealing much, i am keeping myself in relatively shallow waters.
last night i watched orson welles's "essay-documentary" called F FOR FAKE. it centers mostly on a notorious art forger named elmyr de hory, who does beautiful matisses and modiglianis and has fooled many "experts" who took his forgeries as authentic. the movie also examines other related and unrelated fakes. it's very playful and fun. when it ended i laughed and felt satisfied; i've never seen a movie quite like it before. for welles fans, another must-see is dick cavett's interview (early 70's) with welles, who is not only a riveting raconteur but is also charming as heck.
though the ice days last week were a welcomed respite, overall last week sucked. i don't know, there was something off about it. i'm looking forward to a much better one this week. we are reading dylan thomas's UNDER MILK WOOD in theatre II. it's fantastic...
last night i watched orson welles's "essay-documentary" called F FOR FAKE. it centers mostly on a notorious art forger named elmyr de hory, who does beautiful matisses and modiglianis and has fooled many "experts" who took his forgeries as authentic. the movie also examines other related and unrelated fakes. it's very playful and fun. when it ended i laughed and felt satisfied; i've never seen a movie quite like it before. for welles fans, another must-see is dick cavett's interview (early 70's) with welles, who is not only a riveting raconteur but is also charming as heck.
though the ice days last week were a welcomed respite, overall last week sucked. i don't know, there was something off about it. i'm looking forward to a much better one this week. we are reading dylan thomas's UNDER MILK WOOD in theatre II. it's fantastic...
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
second snow day
no school yesterday or today. icy roads.
it snowed in san antonio in 1985.
during my last winter in california (2002-03) it snowed so steadily that an entire subdivision of our town lost power for over a week. it was beautiful and f r e e z i n g. my head became permanently hat-haired.
it was trippy living in all that snow. i loved the transformational qualities of the snow, the way it swaddled our little house by the hillside, how it made the sky look so blue. but i hated driving in the stuff, especially when i had to go over donner pass. putting cold chains on a cold car while pulled over on the side of a filthy, freezingly slushy highway was not my idea of fun. so i was really thrilled when i finally got a toyota 4-runner. it solved many problems.
here in my hometown, people don't know how to drive in the rain, much less on icy roadways. they go too fast and don't leave enough room between cars. and my dad made me sell my 4-runner.
i finally got out my chinese brush & ink set yesterday and doodled around a little.
it snowed in san antonio in 1985.
during my last winter in california (2002-03) it snowed so steadily that an entire subdivision of our town lost power for over a week. it was beautiful and f r e e z i n g. my head became permanently hat-haired.
it was trippy living in all that snow. i loved the transformational qualities of the snow, the way it swaddled our little house by the hillside, how it made the sky look so blue. but i hated driving in the stuff, especially when i had to go over donner pass. putting cold chains on a cold car while pulled over on the side of a filthy, freezingly slushy highway was not my idea of fun. so i was really thrilled when i finally got a toyota 4-runner. it solved many problems.
here in my hometown, people don't know how to drive in the rain, much less on icy roadways. they go too fast and don't leave enough room between cars. and my dad made me sell my 4-runner.
i finally got out my chinese brush & ink set yesterday and doodled around a little.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
fantasy dinner party
i loved zhang yimou's CURSE OF THE GOLDEN FLOWER. i have been enamored of gong li since the nineties when i saw a zhang yimou film called TO LIVE. and chow yun fat is a righteous babe.
so i am compiling my fantasy dinner party guest list.
gong li
chow yun fat
bjork
rufus wainwright
joanna newsom
sufjan stevens
bill murray
bruno ganz
i could go on and on i guess... then i get stumped because... what would i serve?
so i am compiling my fantasy dinner party guest list.
gong li
chow yun fat
bjork
rufus wainwright
joanna newsom
sufjan stevens
bill murray
bruno ganz
i could go on and on i guess... then i get stumped because... what would i serve?
Saturday, January 13, 2007
breath
yesterday during rehearsal i decided it would be fun if we ran a lap around the track. it's about a quarter of a mile i think.
i am so out of shape it's disgusting. i could hardly breathe.
i gotta do something.
i am so out of shape it's disgusting. i could hardly breathe.
i gotta do something.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
cranium
we've started our rehearsals for the one-act play, which is sam shepard's a lie of the mind this year. the original cast, when the play premiered in the mid-80's, starred amanda plummer, harvey keitel, aidan quinn and geraldine page. our second read-thru was today and it's starting off slow and quiet. it feels perfect.
fran gave me some cologne for christmas that's making me happy. also, she brought me chicken soup yesterday at school. it was delicious.
there's an article about christopher guest in the december-january issue of paste-- a really irritating article. the author insisted on using a lot of CAPITAL LETTERS IN ORDER TO EMPHASIZE HIMSELF. the article is obviously written for comic effect, but fails in that regard, succeeding only in being irritating, and not telling us much about mr. guest at all. the author would defend himself, as he hints at in the article, by saying that mr. guest didn't give him much to work with. but that's a poor excuse for a professional journalist. plenty could have been done with what christopher said. i'm thinking about writing a letter to the magazine in order to mention these things; but the article is so blatantly bad that i'm sure someone else will do that for me.
i'm feeling better, snot is slowly receding, headaches dissipating...
fran gave me some cologne for christmas that's making me happy. also, she brought me chicken soup yesterday at school. it was delicious.
there's an article about christopher guest in the december-january issue of paste-- a really irritating article. the author insisted on using a lot of CAPITAL LETTERS IN ORDER TO EMPHASIZE HIMSELF. the article is obviously written for comic effect, but fails in that regard, succeeding only in being irritating, and not telling us much about mr. guest at all. the author would defend himself, as he hints at in the article, by saying that mr. guest didn't give him much to work with. but that's a poor excuse for a professional journalist. plenty could have been done with what christopher said. i'm thinking about writing a letter to the magazine in order to mention these things; but the article is so blatantly bad that i'm sure someone else will do that for me.
i'm feeling better, snot is slowly receding, headaches dissipating...
Friday, January 05, 2007
persnickety
i have a headache tonight. popped 3 ibuprofen. started feeling really ill about a week ago today and had a horrible weekend. not sure what it was... respiratory infection? bronchitis? missed my teacher workday on tuesday and first day back to school on wednesday. went to my doctor on weds and was disappointed and pissed that she didn't have time to see me, so i never found out what i had. got a flu shot, which fran said shouldn't have happened, since i was sick. made an appointment for my twice-yearly appointment and left. school yesterday and today was fine, though i had a lot of angst this morning upon waking up obsessed with my problematic second period. i've realized it's much more that I'M problematic; they're just being themselves. and so i get frustrated when i'm not able to let go, annoyed with my tendency to fret and EFFORTIZE. just let it go, release the fists into calm palms, fluff the aura, and move on.
i did fine today.
i did fine today.
Sunday, December 31, 2006
hpayp nwe yaer
yet again i wonder how i've spent my year.
have i made the most of it?
my resolutions weren't fully met.
but i did become certified teacher man.
i put two plays together from scratch and produced them with my students.
in some ways i may have increased the love and beauty in the world, and i'm sure about a few ways i've taken love and beauty out.
new resolution: i am free, nothing fetters me.
PS. favorite album of 2006:
joanna newsom, YS
have i made the most of it?
my resolutions weren't fully met.
but i did become certified teacher man.
i put two plays together from scratch and produced them with my students.
in some ways i may have increased the love and beauty in the world, and i'm sure about a few ways i've taken love and beauty out.
new resolution: i am free, nothing fetters me.
PS. favorite album of 2006:
joanna newsom, YS
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
advice
if your foot falls asleep, shake it violently before standing up.
if your ballpoint pen is broken, buy seven more and hide them under your bed. use them one at a time, only as needed.
if you become jealous frequently of persons living or dead, stare in the mirror and repeat to yourself "I'll soon be dead," over and over.
if your legs are wooden, cut them off and burn them in the woodstove downstairs. make sure they burn completely. sit nearby and feel the heat.
if your hair is greasy, wash it in the sink.
if the music you listen to depresses you, stick your head out the window and watch the droplets from your wet hair fall down to the sidewalk below, making little splatters on the concrete.
if your ballpoint pen is broken, buy seven more and hide them under your bed. use them one at a time, only as needed.
if you become jealous frequently of persons living or dead, stare in the mirror and repeat to yourself "I'll soon be dead," over and over.
if your legs are wooden, cut them off and burn them in the woodstove downstairs. make sure they burn completely. sit nearby and feel the heat.
if your hair is greasy, wash it in the sink.
if the music you listen to depresses you, stick your head out the window and watch the droplets from your wet hair fall down to the sidewalk below, making little splatters on the concrete.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)