In my earliest years treading the boards I was certain that I would always want to do, ahem, 'serious theatre'. Now, what I defined as 'serious' was probably fairly limited. I also had not yet had the occurrence of taking an acting job for a paycheck. I remember talking with one of my college professors about 2 years after I graduated.
He: So have you been doing a lot of work.
Me: Yes. It has been fairly steady.
He: It must feel good to be creating art on a regular basis.
Me: Who said I was creating art?
He: (Grin) Can I say I told you so?
Me: (Grin) No.
I had to sit through some excruciating children's theatre last week. Good children's theatre makes me react along with the small people in the audience, bad children's theatre makes me want to wage war on anyone involved in whatever atrocity is on stage. No matter what type of theatre an actor does most, children's theatre may very well be one of the most important forms of art in our field. It is here that we cultivate a love for theatre at an early age. Creating theatre patrons in children is so valuable, yet I seldom see it thought of as 'serious theatre'.
Part of the problem is that, as actors, we feel little need to be trained in effective performance techniques for children. This was so painfully true of the show I saw. The lack of understanding in the performers on how to effectively gain the acceptance, trust and ATTENTION of the audience was blatantly apparent. When I think back to the conversation with my professor, I realize, that while not always artistically challenging, children's theatre tended to be physically and vocally challenging. I had to work my actor tools as well as my improvisational ones, with just as much, if not more, frequency than when performing for adults. Shows for kids were regularly accompanied with a decent paycheck as well.
I have not done theatre for young people in a long time. Performing for children is not my favorite. They can be unruly and rude. They have no understanding of audience etiquette, and many times, no appreciation for the effort involved. But it is the place where they learn all these things. It also has the possibility to be extrememly rewarding, because when done well, the feedback is swift and enthusiastic. In a artistic climate where theatre audiences are hard to lure to a show, it seems to me that we should take a page out of the book of corporate America. Get the kiddies addicted while they are young, and hopefully it will continue on through adulthood. And while we have them there we can entertain them, all the while teaching them without them catching on.
Monday, December 26, 2005
Thursday, December 22, 2005
jingle hell
So the madness is in full swing and I will not be posting until next week.
Happiest of Holidays to all...
and now I will say Good Night.
Ye gads I am tired.
Happiest of Holidays to all...
and now I will say Good Night.
Ye gads I am tired.
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
who needs helmets and knee pads?
Do some actors get trained out of their natural instincts? Do they get trained out of their edge? I ask myself these questions all the time. I not only think a proper education in theatre/acting is important, I also believe that one should never stop learning. I believe there is always an opportunity to better your craft.
So why is it that, with great regularity, I will see a show that has been able to cast from very well trained actors, but the show, while technically very good, has no passion. It remains, for lack of a better word, safe. The performances are all safe, and it is hard to find fault with them, except to say that there was no spark. The actors did not step to the edge. While I am watching these performances I am even thinking, 'these are good actors, they have all the tools'. So why aren't they using these tools to their utmost? Are they saving themselves from getting worn out for the next show? Do they feel they have made it and now it is unnecessary to work so hard? What is it that creates this antiseptic varnish over their work?
The show I saw this past weekend fit these descriptions. It was a fairly action packed show and no one seemed to even break a mild sweat. There is a distinct difference for me between brilliant acting that is effortless, and safe acting that has no effort put into it.
Stakes people. I have said it before. I want to see some stakes.
So why is it that, with great regularity, I will see a show that has been able to cast from very well trained actors, but the show, while technically very good, has no passion. It remains, for lack of a better word, safe. The performances are all safe, and it is hard to find fault with them, except to say that there was no spark. The actors did not step to the edge. While I am watching these performances I am even thinking, 'these are good actors, they have all the tools'. So why aren't they using these tools to their utmost? Are they saving themselves from getting worn out for the next show? Do they feel they have made it and now it is unnecessary to work so hard? What is it that creates this antiseptic varnish over their work?
The show I saw this past weekend fit these descriptions. It was a fairly action packed show and no one seemed to even break a mild sweat. There is a distinct difference for me between brilliant acting that is effortless, and safe acting that has no effort put into it.
Stakes people. I have said it before. I want to see some stakes.
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
you scoundrel you
When you write wickedly good plays it is easier to decry other people's work.
My dear Mr. Mamet. I had no idea I would read this article today, and how amusing that I just mentioned you in the title of the last post. While you are no doubt a brilliant playwright and have very well thought out opinions on the theatre, as far as this article goes I am going to have to disagree with a few key points.
Playwriting is a young man's - and, of late, a young woman's - game. It requires the courage of youth still inspired by rejection and as yet unperverted by success. Most playwrights' best work is probably their earliest. Those prejudices of anger, outrage and heartbreak the writer brings to his early work will be fuelled by a passionate sense of injustice. In the later work, this will in the main have been transformed by the desire for retribution.
There are many examples of the fact that playwrights can get better with age. I will give you one and I welcome anyone else to do so as well. William Shakespeare.
First: plays are written to be performed. This may seem a tautology, but consider: description of the character's eye colour, hair colour, history and rationale cannot be performed. An actor can perform only a physical action. Any stage description more abstract than "she takes out a revolver" cannot be performed. Try it.
Couple of issues here. First of all, simply because a playwright has a clear visual on what s/he believes a character should look like does not require the director or actor to try and 'perform' said description. It is simply the writer establishing a look, and there is no harm in that. I would even hazard that there are as many situations when a director would welcome the insight into the writers idea for a part, as there are times when a director would choose to bypass them. Secondly, it is ridiculous to state that abstract stage descriptions cannot be performed. They have, and they can. This goes along with Mamet's seeming belief that directors and actors are only successful if they don't try to interpret the work. Mamet's belief that actors and directors would be perfect if, and only if, they got out of the way of his words on the page, is utter hubris. His own characters would fail under this rigid belief system. I have long contended that what Mamet purports in True and False is irrelevant, because in the end, what he (like other directors and writers) wants is for his plays to be performed well, and that so long an actor achieved that, Mamet himself would not care about the process that was used to get there.
Second: in a good play, the character's intentions are conveyed to the actor, through him to his antagonist, and through them, to the audience, through the words he speaks. Any dialogue that is not calculated to advance the intentions of the character (in the case of Othello, for instance, to find out if his wife is cheating on him) is pointless. If the dialogue does not advance the objective of the character, then why would he say it?
Answer: Just to say it. Is it me, or does this then rip to shreds tons of avant-garde and abstract work? More importantly I seem to remember a great short play by... oh who was that writer...oh yeah... David Mamet, called Deer Dogs that had no advancement, but was fantastic in its simplicity. Showing the audience a window into a different life can be riveting. Beckett's Footfalls does not advance the lives of the two women, but in their stagnation we understand their plight, and through that understanding, reach a catharsis.
I am not trying to issue an announcement of 'No one dis Williams', nor am I declaring war on Mamet. For one thing, I really like his work. I do not believe that any artist has thought every piece they have written to be perfection. Everyone is entitled to their opinion and I am entitled to disagree with them.
Bye.
My dear Mr. Mamet. I had no idea I would read this article today, and how amusing that I just mentioned you in the title of the last post. While you are no doubt a brilliant playwright and have very well thought out opinions on the theatre, as far as this article goes I am going to have to disagree with a few key points.
Playwriting is a young man's - and, of late, a young woman's - game. It requires the courage of youth still inspired by rejection and as yet unperverted by success. Most playwrights' best work is probably their earliest. Those prejudices of anger, outrage and heartbreak the writer brings to his early work will be fuelled by a passionate sense of injustice. In the later work, this will in the main have been transformed by the desire for retribution.
There are many examples of the fact that playwrights can get better with age. I will give you one and I welcome anyone else to do so as well. William Shakespeare.
First: plays are written to be performed. This may seem a tautology, but consider: description of the character's eye colour, hair colour, history and rationale cannot be performed. An actor can perform only a physical action. Any stage description more abstract than "she takes out a revolver" cannot be performed. Try it.
Couple of issues here. First of all, simply because a playwright has a clear visual on what s/he believes a character should look like does not require the director or actor to try and 'perform' said description. It is simply the writer establishing a look, and there is no harm in that. I would even hazard that there are as many situations when a director would welcome the insight into the writers idea for a part, as there are times when a director would choose to bypass them. Secondly, it is ridiculous to state that abstract stage descriptions cannot be performed. They have, and they can. This goes along with Mamet's seeming belief that directors and actors are only successful if they don't try to interpret the work. Mamet's belief that actors and directors would be perfect if, and only if, they got out of the way of his words on the page, is utter hubris. His own characters would fail under this rigid belief system. I have long contended that what Mamet purports in True and False is irrelevant, because in the end, what he (like other directors and writers) wants is for his plays to be performed well, and that so long an actor achieved that, Mamet himself would not care about the process that was used to get there.
Second: in a good play, the character's intentions are conveyed to the actor, through him to his antagonist, and through them, to the audience, through the words he speaks. Any dialogue that is not calculated to advance the intentions of the character (in the case of Othello, for instance, to find out if his wife is cheating on him) is pointless. If the dialogue does not advance the objective of the character, then why would he say it?
Answer: Just to say it. Is it me, or does this then rip to shreds tons of avant-garde and abstract work? More importantly I seem to remember a great short play by... oh who was that writer...oh yeah... David Mamet, called Deer Dogs that had no advancement, but was fantastic in its simplicity. Showing the audience a window into a different life can be riveting. Beckett's Footfalls does not advance the lives of the two women, but in their stagnation we understand their plight, and through that understanding, reach a catharsis.
I am not trying to issue an announcement of 'No one dis Williams', nor am I declaring war on Mamet. For one thing, I really like his work. I do not believe that any artist has thought every piece they have written to be perfection. Everyone is entitled to their opinion and I am entitled to disagree with them.
Bye.
Monday, December 12, 2005
did mamet get the title from him?
I go through phases in my reading. I will hit fiction for a spell and then move on to nonfiction (history mostly), then get tired of that and start reading plays. The play issue is of course, how to lay my hands on all the ones I want to read. I keep an incredibly long wish list on file with Amazon so that I can work my way through it a couple at a time. Buying plays gets extremely expensive. I almost never buy books. I just borrow them from the library or friends. I can't always do this with plays. When it is a fairly new writer, then I am buying the play, or the collection that it comes in. Sometimes it is from some really obscure publishing house so I don't get the play until a month later.
One of the collections on my list is Pinter's work. I have read a couple of his plays, but want to broaden my knowledge on what he's accomplished. For those of you who have not yet heard about his Nobel remarks. It is really worth reading.
He begins his speech talking about something he wrote in 1958
'There are no hard distinctions between what is real and what is unreal, nor between what is true and what is false. A thing is not necessarily either true or false; it can be both true and false.'
he goes on to say...
"...the real truth is that there never is any such thing as one truth to be found in dramatic art. There are many."
Here is the link to the actual speech.
Enjoy.
One of the collections on my list is Pinter's work. I have read a couple of his plays, but want to broaden my knowledge on what he's accomplished. For those of you who have not yet heard about his Nobel remarks. It is really worth reading.
He begins his speech talking about something he wrote in 1958
'There are no hard distinctions between what is real and what is unreal, nor between what is true and what is false. A thing is not necessarily either true or false; it can be both true and false.'
he goes on to say...
"...the real truth is that there never is any such thing as one truth to be found in dramatic art. There are many."
Here is the link to the actual speech.
Enjoy.
Thursday, December 08, 2005
on pointe
Does anyone have the inside scoop on getting some cheap tickets to see the Nutcracker with ABT at the Kennedy Center? Is there even such a thing as discount tickets to ABT?
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
someone sprinkled crack on that
Confession of an addiction.
Harry Potter
Oh, and by the way J.K., I know who R.A.B is.
Harry Potter
Oh, and by the way J.K., I know who R.A.B is.
Saturday, December 03, 2005
not being linear is crazy fun
One of my first auditions out of college was for a theatre known for their highly theatrical style. They were doing a piece with a lot of movement, as they are known to do, and after seeing my monologue and singing a short song they asked me to be a monkey. It went much like this:
Me: (conclude song)
She: (with Russian accent) Ok/ good/ now be a monkey.
Me: Ok. (Proceed with being a monkey, a small capuchin in my mind)
She: NO! A BIG MONKEY! A BIG MONKEY!
Me: (Change to being big monkey, a large gorilla in my mind)
The audition went well, they called me back, but in the end I took another show and it conflicted with theirs. I will never know if my monkey was what they were looking for.
I must admit that I love telling this story. I had fun when I was there, and it is fun to reenact. It usually gets a laugh. Last time I told the story was to some cast mates, one of them was absolutely astonished that I had so quickly jumped into being a monkey. She said that she could never have done it. This surprised me. Being a monkey was so benign, and hey, animal imagery was a helpful part of my acting training, particularly with Shakespeare; but I learned a long time ago to respect the lines actors draw for themselves. If she was not comfortable being a monkey, then so be it. Most actors I know have a line they won't cross.
I am constantly struggling with that line myself. When I first discovered Sarah Kane I fell in love with her savage almost unbearable work. As I began Blasted I was immediately drawn to Cate and as I read on I was mentally ticking down to my line. Saying to myself "I could handle this, I could work toward this", and hoping that she would not cross my actor line, so that the possibility of playing this part could happen one day.
Do writers, and directors struggle with this line as much as actors? In the end they are not the ones who have to do the deeds, just the ones to tell us to do it. When Kane wrote Blasted was she thinking to herself about an actor having to get raped and have his eyeballs sucked out? Most likely not. She was simply creating. What staging did Frank Wedekind imagine for the circle jerk in the middle of Springs Awakening? The same jerking off competition echoed for me when I later read Naomi Wallace's War Boys.
There will always be actors willing to do anything. Just ask Cherry Red. But that is not my question. I want to know if a writer struggles with the idea of sending an actor to those places or does the drive to attain a theatrical moment supersede any worry? Is it even a factor in the writing of a play?
Does this line become an issue when a director weighs whether or not to do a show? Is it more than just staging feasibility, cost, and passion for a piece? When a director falls in love with a script, does part of the weighing process include acknowledging that an actual person has to enact these moments?
We continually navigate these lines in the creation of an art that is collaborative. There is no solitude in the formation of theatre. It is pretty cool to think, that even with all these lines drawn, we still find synergy.
Me: (conclude song)
She: (with Russian accent) Ok/ good/ now be a monkey.
Me: Ok. (Proceed with being a monkey, a small capuchin in my mind)
She: NO! A BIG MONKEY! A BIG MONKEY!
Me: (Change to being big monkey, a large gorilla in my mind)
The audition went well, they called me back, but in the end I took another show and it conflicted with theirs. I will never know if my monkey was what they were looking for.
I must admit that I love telling this story. I had fun when I was there, and it is fun to reenact. It usually gets a laugh. Last time I told the story was to some cast mates, one of them was absolutely astonished that I had so quickly jumped into being a monkey. She said that she could never have done it. This surprised me. Being a monkey was so benign, and hey, animal imagery was a helpful part of my acting training, particularly with Shakespeare; but I learned a long time ago to respect the lines actors draw for themselves. If she was not comfortable being a monkey, then so be it. Most actors I know have a line they won't cross.
I am constantly struggling with that line myself. When I first discovered Sarah Kane I fell in love with her savage almost unbearable work. As I began Blasted I was immediately drawn to Cate and as I read on I was mentally ticking down to my line. Saying to myself "I could handle this, I could work toward this", and hoping that she would not cross my actor line, so that the possibility of playing this part could happen one day.
Do writers, and directors struggle with this line as much as actors? In the end they are not the ones who have to do the deeds, just the ones to tell us to do it. When Kane wrote Blasted was she thinking to herself about an actor having to get raped and have his eyeballs sucked out? Most likely not. She was simply creating. What staging did Frank Wedekind imagine for the circle jerk in the middle of Springs Awakening? The same jerking off competition echoed for me when I later read Naomi Wallace's War Boys.
There will always be actors willing to do anything. Just ask Cherry Red. But that is not my question. I want to know if a writer struggles with the idea of sending an actor to those places or does the drive to attain a theatrical moment supersede any worry? Is it even a factor in the writing of a play?
Does this line become an issue when a director weighs whether or not to do a show? Is it more than just staging feasibility, cost, and passion for a piece? When a director falls in love with a script, does part of the weighing process include acknowledging that an actual person has to enact these moments?
We continually navigate these lines in the creation of an art that is collaborative. There is no solitude in the formation of theatre. It is pretty cool to think, that even with all these lines drawn, we still find synergy.
Friday, December 02, 2005
muzak is like novocaine
Working a lot. Running to and fro a lot.
I need a quick break.
Will post more next week.
Till then, be nice - or naughty - whatever floats your boat.
I need a quick break.
Will post more next week.
Till then, be nice - or naughty - whatever floats your boat.
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
algebra
In the 8th grade I got caught cheating. My friend and I had worked out this system of switching off who did the homework each night and then copying each others work the next day at lunch. It worked great until the day that we were so engrossed in our conversation that we did not realize that we had put each others homework in our binders. I had class before her and the teacher saw her math work in my binder and ooooooh the sting of that moment still smarts today. I can still remember with complete clarity the hollow vacuum that was created in my chest as I was sent to the office, confronted by the principle and then later, my parents. To some, this cheating may not seem like a big deal, but it was huge to me. It had never occurred to me how much disgrace I could feel from petty and deceitful actions. I took the rap for both of us and said that I had taken her homework without her knowledge, and even warned her prior to her class to hide my paper so she would not get caught too. I was a good friend.
In retrospect, maybe I wasn't. Maybe she should have felt that jack hammer of guilt come down.
Some people really needed that moment of realization while growing up. This will sound awful, but I am glad he cried. He may have cried only because he got caught, but the shame he must feel brought on tears that will not be easily forgotten. The lesson learned too late.
In retrospect, maybe I wasn't. Maybe she should have felt that jack hammer of guilt come down.
Some people really needed that moment of realization while growing up. This will sound awful, but I am glad he cried. He may have cried only because he got caught, but the shame he must feel brought on tears that will not be easily forgotten. The lesson learned too late.
Monday, November 28, 2005
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
thanks
How do I hold so many buzzing
and flowing lightning bolts to my chest
and revel in my gratitude for their abundance?
It is impossible, and so in the end I surrender
them outward and issue my prayer in a breath;
that I realize my wealth and
that I recognize these supernovas in my world
as they soar past me everyday.
and flowing lightning bolts to my chest
and revel in my gratitude for their abundance?
It is impossible, and so in the end I surrender
them outward and issue my prayer in a breath;
that I realize my wealth and
that I recognize these supernovas in my world
as they soar past me everyday.
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
philly dammit
Forgive this post. I hate to be one to harp on a person's mistakes, but this one kind of mini crushed me. From today's Washington Post:
SHOUT OUT
"Cheers to being in the building where they signed the Constitution. I think they signed it right over there, in the middle row." -- Conor Oberst of Bright Eyes at the Constitution Hall show Friday night. He then guzzled a beer and threw the bottle across the stage. Should we flunk him in history or geography?
Oh Conor, how could you? I worship your lyrics, adore your warbley vocals, and the fact that you came from Omaha and still seem to see the bigger pictures. I grew up in Hawaii, in a fairly rural and lower income area, but I still had to take U.S. History. I was still required to know the basic facts of our country's birth.
I know that I will still listen to Bright Eyes, and I will still gobble up all of those indy folk, rockish words that he croons, but I will always remember the day that he became human. This is a naivete on my part. As much as I know that the people on stage are not really like that in life, I can't help idolizing certain individuals. Usually, as in the case with Conor Oberst, I idolize writers. I have a friend who is studying under Mac Wellman right now (I love Wellman) and last time I was visiting I mentioned that I would love to meet him. But now the very thought of it makes me nervous. He is a genius to me right now, what if meeting him changes this? I have to remind myself that everyone is human. That we are all fallible. We can be creative geniuses, but still say stupid things.
I remember a while back when I saw this great show at Theatre Alliance that a friend was in. The lead in the show was magnetic to me. He had that earnest, confused, but passionate aura about him that used to drive me wild in college. I instantly had a quickie crush on him. After the show I was chatting with my friend and someone asked me if I wanted to meet the lead. I declined politely while in my head I was saying "Hell no!" I knew full well that no matter how nice he was in person, he would not be the man I saw on stage. I usually don't get the luxury of buying into a performance to the point of fawning over a man. Most of the time I dissect a performance's, acting, direction, or writing consciously or unconsciously. I just wanted to have my rare childish moment of mystery. It is most likely that I will end up meeting this actor at another time (this is a small theatre town), but until then I can think back to that post show period with wistful junior high school happiness.
The statement by Conor disappointed me so much because it reminded me, like a kick in the head would, that although he may turn a great phrase, ignorance can ruin beauty. Education is glorious and not some dusty, geeky pursuit. Well maybe a little geeky, but still worthy.
My Preachy Moment
Artists educate yourselves! You cannot really have breadth of thought if you limit yourself to thinking that a basic education is for the average joe's. It is our collective starting point, our shared experience and not to be submerged with a brush off mentality of 'I am a student of the world, who needs school.' Be a student of it all, and for pete's sake, do your research.
SHOUT OUT
"Cheers to being in the building where they signed the Constitution. I think they signed it right over there, in the middle row." -- Conor Oberst of Bright Eyes at the Constitution Hall show Friday night. He then guzzled a beer and threw the bottle across the stage. Should we flunk him in history or geography?
Oh Conor, how could you? I worship your lyrics, adore your warbley vocals, and the fact that you came from Omaha and still seem to see the bigger pictures. I grew up in Hawaii, in a fairly rural and lower income area, but I still had to take U.S. History. I was still required to know the basic facts of our country's birth.
I know that I will still listen to Bright Eyes, and I will still gobble up all of those indy folk, rockish words that he croons, but I will always remember the day that he became human. This is a naivete on my part. As much as I know that the people on stage are not really like that in life, I can't help idolizing certain individuals. Usually, as in the case with Conor Oberst, I idolize writers. I have a friend who is studying under Mac Wellman right now (I love Wellman) and last time I was visiting I mentioned that I would love to meet him. But now the very thought of it makes me nervous. He is a genius to me right now, what if meeting him changes this? I have to remind myself that everyone is human. That we are all fallible. We can be creative geniuses, but still say stupid things.
I remember a while back when I saw this great show at Theatre Alliance that a friend was in. The lead in the show was magnetic to me. He had that earnest, confused, but passionate aura about him that used to drive me wild in college. I instantly had a quickie crush on him. After the show I was chatting with my friend and someone asked me if I wanted to meet the lead. I declined politely while in my head I was saying "Hell no!" I knew full well that no matter how nice he was in person, he would not be the man I saw on stage. I usually don't get the luxury of buying into a performance to the point of fawning over a man. Most of the time I dissect a performance's, acting, direction, or writing consciously or unconsciously. I just wanted to have my rare childish moment of mystery. It is most likely that I will end up meeting this actor at another time (this is a small theatre town), but until then I can think back to that post show period with wistful junior high school happiness.
The statement by Conor disappointed me so much because it reminded me, like a kick in the head would, that although he may turn a great phrase, ignorance can ruin beauty. Education is glorious and not some dusty, geeky pursuit. Well maybe a little geeky, but still worthy.
My Preachy Moment
Artists educate yourselves! You cannot really have breadth of thought if you limit yourself to thinking that a basic education is for the average joe's. It is our collective starting point, our shared experience and not to be submerged with a brush off mentality of 'I am a student of the world, who needs school.' Be a student of it all, and for pete's sake, do your research.
Thursday, November 17, 2005
veni, vidi, on sunday
I was just perusing a newish blog, and he makes reference to HBO's Rome. I loooooove this show. I get obsessed with different periods in history on a regular basis and then will swallow every tidbit I can about them for a while before I move on. For example, I have always been fascinated by the move westward and the Oregon trail. I went through a period of Henry VIII mania, and recently dove back into ancient Egypt and Rome (which I was crazy about years ago). So the fact that this show came along when it did was sweet serendipity for me. I pity anyone who has to sit next to me during an episode, because I am constantly spouting historical data that I am incapable of holding in. Boring, boring shit like how the grain supplies in Egypt were a necessity in Rome and how the Nile and its water level was watched diligently in order to estimate grain production and rationing. Even more boring, how it was said that Octavian (Julius Caesar's nephew) wore sandals with high heels to appear taller and older, how Caesar's seizures (say that three times fast) got worse as he got older. See , I cannot stop myself even now. I love these details, but amazingly others are not riveted like I am.
Rome's last episode for the season is on Sunday and I am so excited. My only issue with the show is that it moved so quickly through history. It glossed over years that I felt were chock full of really interesting stuff. Not like the boring grain stuff, but stuff like Caesar's relationship with Cleopatra, and Octavian's youth, and the struggles of Caesar and Pompeii prior to the wars in Gaul. But it is still really good. The thing I love about HBO is that all the really good stuff airs on Sunday night. Is there any better time for a theatre person? I can still do a matinee or afternoon rehearsal and be back in time for Sunday night excellence. Some of you who know me think that I watch no television except for The Daily Show, but you see I have my TV vice as well.
Rome's last episode for the season is on Sunday and I am so excited. My only issue with the show is that it moved so quickly through history. It glossed over years that I felt were chock full of really interesting stuff. Not like the boring grain stuff, but stuff like Caesar's relationship with Cleopatra, and Octavian's youth, and the struggles of Caesar and Pompeii prior to the wars in Gaul. But it is still really good. The thing I love about HBO is that all the really good stuff airs on Sunday night. Is there any better time for a theatre person? I can still do a matinee or afternoon rehearsal and be back in time for Sunday night excellence. Some of you who know me think that I watch no television except for The Daily Show, but you see I have my TV vice as well.
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
sprots
Conversation with small person.
Smaller: "I love to play flitball."
Me: "Is that so? Do you mean football?"
Smaller: "Yes, flitball."
Me: "Anything else you like to play?"
Smaller: "I can play basketball and throw the ball in the hoot."
Me: "I think you mean hoop."
Smaller: "No, hoot."
Me: "You're right, it is a hoot."
Smaller: "I love to play flitball."
Me: "Is that so? Do you mean football?"
Smaller: "Yes, flitball."
Me: "Anything else you like to play?"
Smaller: "I can play basketball and throw the ball in the hoot."
Me: "I think you mean hoop."
Smaller: "No, hoot."
Me: "You're right, it is a hoot."
Sunday, November 13, 2005
white picket hurts my feet
I hate discussing politics with someone who does not basically agree with me. I always think that I should be more open minded to those who don't share my opinions. But I tend to find opposing viewpoints in politics downright offensive, and not just 'another way of looking at it'. I always end up feeling that people who do not rally to my side are deluded or mean. I know this is wrong. I know that my inability to see another's viewpoint is limiting myself. Just as an ultra conservative limits their ability to move forward by not opening up their perspective.
There is one issue, though that I do go back and forth on. That is the funding of the arts by the government. I know this may seem like blasphemy coming from an actor (you already know that I am blasphemous, see previous posts), but I have a hard time reconciling this one. It is wonderful that the government sees art as worthy of funding, although it is a paltry amount in the grand scheme of things. I know that even this little funding has helped some very important artists do their work. But I am not comfortable with the idea that the government should have any say about which art is or is not worthwhile. I also am not at ease with the idea that while our education system lags, we are spending money on art instead of teaching art. Art may feed the soul, but I also want the kiddies to have a computer in every classroom.
Artists are, by nature, a very resourceful lot. I have been in shows that had a budget of fifty dollars and still came off beautifully. I have watched very poor and enterprising people do amazing work. We are scrappy and determined and I do not fear for the arts, were the government to pull the plug on the NEA. However, as I said, I do waiver on this one a lot. The fact that the government recognizes the arts as being integral to our society, by earmarking some money for its development, is no small thing. I don't know if it would be wise to give up the money in the symbolic sense. It would allow the government to think that the arts are expendable. Quite the conundrum for me.
As soon as I land on one side of the fence I seem to hop back up there again.
There is one issue, though that I do go back and forth on. That is the funding of the arts by the government. I know this may seem like blasphemy coming from an actor (you already know that I am blasphemous, see previous posts), but I have a hard time reconciling this one. It is wonderful that the government sees art as worthy of funding, although it is a paltry amount in the grand scheme of things. I know that even this little funding has helped some very important artists do their work. But I am not comfortable with the idea that the government should have any say about which art is or is not worthwhile. I also am not at ease with the idea that while our education system lags, we are spending money on art instead of teaching art. Art may feed the soul, but I also want the kiddies to have a computer in every classroom.
Artists are, by nature, a very resourceful lot. I have been in shows that had a budget of fifty dollars and still came off beautifully. I have watched very poor and enterprising people do amazing work. We are scrappy and determined and I do not fear for the arts, were the government to pull the plug on the NEA. However, as I said, I do waiver on this one a lot. The fact that the government recognizes the arts as being integral to our society, by earmarking some money for its development, is no small thing. I don't know if it would be wise to give up the money in the symbolic sense. It would allow the government to think that the arts are expendable. Quite the conundrum for me.
As soon as I land on one side of the fence I seem to hop back up there again.
Monday, November 07, 2005
not the kind you grill
When you go to a show that you have friends in you so badly want them to be awesome so that when you see them afterwards you can honestly gush about the performance. I got to gush this past weekend. I saw Building a Boat at Charter and Streetcar Named Desire over at Keegan.
Building a Boat was a great acting piece. I thought all the performances were detailed and thoughtful. My good bud presented himself in a way I had never seen him onstage, which was refreshing and beautiful to watch. The play itself has the potential to be great, although I do not think it is there yet. I applaud Charter for its work in staging new works. In most cases I would much rather see new work, instead of a piece I already know. With the birth of a new piece has to come the birthing process, which is not always smooth. I have said it before, and will say it again, I am no writer. So it is unfortunate that while I can say I think the play needs either cutting or recrafting in certain areas, I am woefully ignorant as to how to do it. There were points in the piece where the rhythm and drive was strong, and others where it staggered a little. I am not sure if the piece needs less or more, but it needs a little more velocity to get it to what I feel could be a poignant piece of art. Still, I loved its overall themes and the commitment that the staging and the performers had. That in itself made it a good night of theatre.
It was a busy weekend, but I made it out to Streetcar all the same. I am so glad I did. There was a moment in between scenes where I actually felt the thought reverberate through my head "How did Williams know how to craft such amazing plot and characters?" I usually think of Streetcar as Blanche's show. How could you not? But I have to give it up to the Kowalski's. This was their show. They owned it from the get go. They were magnetic and honest and I never saw them falter in the momentum they created. Stanley was not just a simple brute, he was played with an intelligence that made his violent moments even scarier, and Stella was no simple, abused wife. She had inner strength and such clear devotion that I really came to understand her point of view. Like I said, I was happy to gush.
Hanging out after one of the shows this weekend, I was asked what was most important to me in a performance. The answer came out immediately "Stakes." I want to see what is at stake, in the writing , direction, and performance. I want everyone involved to know what is on the line and go after that moment passionately. I do so love when that happens.
Mirabile visu.
Building a Boat was a great acting piece. I thought all the performances were detailed and thoughtful. My good bud presented himself in a way I had never seen him onstage, which was refreshing and beautiful to watch. The play itself has the potential to be great, although I do not think it is there yet. I applaud Charter for its work in staging new works. In most cases I would much rather see new work, instead of a piece I already know. With the birth of a new piece has to come the birthing process, which is not always smooth. I have said it before, and will say it again, I am no writer. So it is unfortunate that while I can say I think the play needs either cutting or recrafting in certain areas, I am woefully ignorant as to how to do it. There were points in the piece where the rhythm and drive was strong, and others where it staggered a little. I am not sure if the piece needs less or more, but it needs a little more velocity to get it to what I feel could be a poignant piece of art. Still, I loved its overall themes and the commitment that the staging and the performers had. That in itself made it a good night of theatre.
It was a busy weekend, but I made it out to Streetcar all the same. I am so glad I did. There was a moment in between scenes where I actually felt the thought reverberate through my head "How did Williams know how to craft such amazing plot and characters?" I usually think of Streetcar as Blanche's show. How could you not? But I have to give it up to the Kowalski's. This was their show. They owned it from the get go. They were magnetic and honest and I never saw them falter in the momentum they created. Stanley was not just a simple brute, he was played with an intelligence that made his violent moments even scarier, and Stella was no simple, abused wife. She had inner strength and such clear devotion that I really came to understand her point of view. Like I said, I was happy to gush.
Hanging out after one of the shows this weekend, I was asked what was most important to me in a performance. The answer came out immediately "Stakes." I want to see what is at stake, in the writing , direction, and performance. I want everyone involved to know what is on the line and go after that moment passionately. I do so love when that happens.
Mirabile visu.
Thursday, November 03, 2005
chewing on it
The conversation went something like this.
He: "I read your latest blog entry and you are blasphemous."
Me: "Blasphemous?"
He: "Yes, you are a blaspheme."
Me: "Huh, you think."
He: "What else would you be, if you relish the idea of sinning."
Me: "Eating fruit is hardly a sin."
He: "It is a metaphor."
Me: "Aha! Then you admit the Bible is not literal; some would consider that blasphemous."
He: "Not the same. Where do you stand on Cain?"
Me: "I don't think he should have murdered his brother, but I can see why he was pissed when God trashed his offering."
He: "And the prodigal son?"
Me: "Why couldn't the father throw them both a party, why do Bible stories continually reinforce bad parenting?"
He: "Yup, blasphemous, but charming all the same."
I just call it like I see it.
He: "I read your latest blog entry and you are blasphemous."
Me: "Blasphemous?"
He: "Yes, you are a blaspheme."
Me: "Huh, you think."
He: "What else would you be, if you relish the idea of sinning."
Me: "Eating fruit is hardly a sin."
He: "It is a metaphor."
Me: "Aha! Then you admit the Bible is not literal; some would consider that blasphemous."
He: "Not the same. Where do you stand on Cain?"
Me: "I don't think he should have murdered his brother, but I can see why he was pissed when God trashed his offering."
He: "And the prodigal son?"
Me: "Why couldn't the father throw them both a party, why do Bible stories continually reinforce bad parenting?"
He: "Yup, blasphemous, but charming all the same."
I just call it like I see it.
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
all sweet and juicy
I would have made the same choice as Eve, even knowing the consequences. Paradise is great and all, but I imagine it is fairly boring and predictable. They never had to work for anything, never had to make an effort. Challenge is what Eve wanted. Something new and exciting, something different. In my view, if Eve had not taken that first bite, Adam would have eventually. It was inevitable that one of those two would have at some point said to themselves "I am so BORED, lets stir things up and try that crazy-ass fruit from the forbidden tree."
I bet that fruit tasted goooooooooooooood.
I bet that fruit tasted goooooooooooooood.
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
sizzle
My noggin feels frightfully fried
To the computer screen I cried
I've nothing to blog
creative juices will clog
when tired, I artfully sighed.
Yeah, I know it sucks. Let me sleep on it and I will get back to you.
To the computer screen I cried
I've nothing to blog
creative juices will clog
when tired, I artfully sighed.
Yeah, I know it sucks. Let me sleep on it and I will get back to you.
Friday, October 28, 2005
steeeeeeeelllllaaaaaaaaaaa
I usually only post about theatre after I have seen it, but I will always make an exception for these folks. They are some of the most down to earth, fun and kind people I have had the pleasure to work with. They are back from touring the show for 6 weeks in Ireland where they packed the houses. Head yourself to Church Street this weekend.
such a bad ass
And I was all "You better pay me!"
And they were all "Whatever."
And I was all "I will slap that grin off your face with this Past Due notice! And 'Past Due' is printed in RED! What about that?"
And they were all "OK, here is the money we owe you."
I finally got my check.
And they were all "Whatever."
And I was all "I will slap that grin off your face with this Past Due notice! And 'Past Due' is printed in RED! What about that?"
And they were all "OK, here is the money we owe you."
I finally got my check.
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
if metro would get its ass in gear
Anita Diamant's Last Days of Dogtown follows the inhabitants of a small town as it dwindles away. The surrounding cities get bigger and little Dogtown fades with each passing year. In the book, the neighboring town boasts more and more convenience as it grows. People no longer have the need to travel all the way to the big city to find what they need and they are drawn in from the country to the possibility of work in town. Diamant winds through the stories of these folks with finesse and honesty.
The birth and death of an area is a tricky thing. As I watch the suburbs of DC grow at an exponential rate I see that certain areas crop up as their own epicenters. This makes it unnecessary to go into the city, but no matter how developed they may get, they still lack the variety of arts that large cities offer. For me it is ingrained. The city is the center of all things. My family moved a lot as I was growing up and no matter where we landed my mother would drag us to the nearest city for any bit of culture she could find. It was she who made me comfortable at symphonies, theatre, and art galleries; and because she had an avid reader in me she steered me toward the classics as best she could (I did go through a major smut phase though - who knew that romance novels had soft core porn, and that they were right there in the public library?!)
There is quite a discussion raging at Theatre Ideas about offending the audience. If you really want to follow the whole thing you are going to have to make your way through several different blogs, but I think its worth it. Parabasis writes that theatre is not for the middle class, but for the educated (he says this with a lot more panache than I, and makes really good points). With the invention of film and television audiences had a new cheap form of entertainment and the cock fighting/bear baiting days of the stage changed forever. So is art for the masses? Frankly, I do not know a ton of people from the outlying suburbs who's parents educated them in the arts the way mine did. They feel no need to leave the comfort of their planned communities to experiment with the mysteries in the city. For example; a small epicenter, like Reston, Virginia, has an abundance of restaurants,shopping, movies, a couple community theatres, a few art galleries, and plenty of activities. They have insulated their suburban utopia and venturing out of it is messy and difficult.
This almost harkens back to the discourse we were having about Monsterism on BLOG! a while back in which I stated that we need to grow arts advocates. Trying to cultivate or should I say convert communities into patrons proves to be much harder to do, than educating them from youth to appreciate the arts. In today's educational arena math and science are the areas that parents push their kids into. Artists used to teach their craft to their children and apprenticeship was a norm. Now a life in the arts is not exactly the career choice of parents for their children. So I send out some major props to my teacher friends and those performing for the youngsters. Hopefully as the suburbs and exurbs and the way-the-hell-out-there-burbs continue to grow they will work to acquaint their students with the city life and all that it offers.
The birth and death of an area is a tricky thing. As I watch the suburbs of DC grow at an exponential rate I see that certain areas crop up as their own epicenters. This makes it unnecessary to go into the city, but no matter how developed they may get, they still lack the variety of arts that large cities offer. For me it is ingrained. The city is the center of all things. My family moved a lot as I was growing up and no matter where we landed my mother would drag us to the nearest city for any bit of culture she could find. It was she who made me comfortable at symphonies, theatre, and art galleries; and because she had an avid reader in me she steered me toward the classics as best she could (I did go through a major smut phase though - who knew that romance novels had soft core porn, and that they were right there in the public library?!)
There is quite a discussion raging at Theatre Ideas about offending the audience. If you really want to follow the whole thing you are going to have to make your way through several different blogs, but I think its worth it. Parabasis writes that theatre is not for the middle class, but for the educated (he says this with a lot more panache than I, and makes really good points). With the invention of film and television audiences had a new cheap form of entertainment and the cock fighting/bear baiting days of the stage changed forever. So is art for the masses? Frankly, I do not know a ton of people from the outlying suburbs who's parents educated them in the arts the way mine did. They feel no need to leave the comfort of their planned communities to experiment with the mysteries in the city. For example; a small epicenter, like Reston, Virginia, has an abundance of restaurants,shopping, movies, a couple community theatres, a few art galleries, and plenty of activities. They have insulated their suburban utopia and venturing out of it is messy and difficult.
This almost harkens back to the discourse we were having about Monsterism on BLOG! a while back in which I stated that we need to grow arts advocates. Trying to cultivate or should I say convert communities into patrons proves to be much harder to do, than educating them from youth to appreciate the arts. In today's educational arena math and science are the areas that parents push their kids into. Artists used to teach their craft to their children and apprenticeship was a norm. Now a life in the arts is not exactly the career choice of parents for their children. So I send out some major props to my teacher friends and those performing for the youngsters. Hopefully as the suburbs and exurbs and the way-the-hell-out-there-burbs continue to grow they will work to acquaint their students with the city life and all that it offers.
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
so that is what he meant
There is a great series of essays being done by different playwrights and I have been reading them for the past couple months. I find the peek into their thoughts and creative process very interesting.
Ciao.
Ciao.
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
the breeze was a siren song
Past due notices are vile things to send to people. I had to do that today. More vile, is that fact that they have not PAID ME. After years working different jobs I quit to freelance from home. I have no boss but myself, I am responsible for getting the work, doing the work, as well as the quality of it. I find the lack of restriction very freeing and not at all conducive to...well...working. Sometimes the projects are interesting and the clients, easy going. And sometimes it is not like that at all. It takes some major self discipline to work on beautiful days such as today. Us artists types can be very good at perseverance and discipline when it comes to our chosen craft, but day jobs are many times about the need for money instead of fulfillment. I often think that if I could harness the tenacity I reserve for acting, and channel it into my business I would really be doing well. But there is only so much energy a person has and when the choice is between something you love to do and something that you have to do. Well it does not take an Einstein to do this math.
Saturday, October 15, 2005
missed it
I am supposed to be in Dupont parking my car right now so that I can see the play that City Mouse directed.
But I am not.
Life intervened on Thursday, Friday, and again tonight.
I am unhappy about this state of affairs.
I read the script a couple months ago, and it was one of those where I just could not see the theatricality in some of it so I was very curious to see how it was staged. Alas, I am here and the world is still turning so I will have to reconcile myself to a night of ho hum instead of Upshot.
But I am not.
Life intervened on Thursday, Friday, and again tonight.
I am unhappy about this state of affairs.
I read the script a couple months ago, and it was one of those where I just could not see the theatricality in some of it so I was very curious to see how it was staged. Alas, I am here and the world is still turning so I will have to reconcile myself to a night of ho hum instead of Upshot.
Thursday, October 13, 2005
it is a blur
I think that since the advent of science the sense that the world is moving too fast, or that things are spinning out of control, has been constant. I frequently have the sickening sensation that this roller coaster we are on has no operator. Current events are what give me that sensation. After a particularly horrific week of news I will feel like my actions have no bearing on the propulsion of our collective steps forward. I mean, how can there be corrupt politicians, and a deteriorating environment, and war, natural disaster, murder, homelessness, poverty, oppression...and I have no ability to change things? I know all the arguments here and I am not making these statements as a cry for an 'It will all be ok' comment or a 'hang in there' attitude like some silly kitten dangling from a tree branch sympathy card. I simply find it interesting that this feeling is so recurring and that I always feel as if things are more out of control now than ever before - which is ridiculous. I was reading Carter Beats the Devil (thank you Arctic Actor for the recommendation) and there is a passage in the book where one of the characters, living in the 1920's, is reading the paper and feeling this same sense of bewilderment that I describe above. Ken Wilbur says that (and I paraphrase here) "Science is our search for truth, and religion, our search for meaning." If I follow this idea (which I find to be true) than it basically means that since humans have become enlightened and driven enough to seek truth, we have not worked on our self control with equal intensity. Most possibly this has to do with the fact that science has given us the ability to speed up the tasks of life. Now we can attack a country 1000 times faster than before the industrial age. We can pollute faster, invent faster, build faster, discover faster. But self control - hmm, not doing so good.
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
na uhhhh
Oh no she didn't!
Can we please take a moment for outrage. I have never had too much issue with ole' Laura, but what the hell?!! Sexism?!!!! The main reason anyone is giving Georgie trouble over Miers is because she is UNQUALIFIED! "A fine role model..." my ass. Does this mean if little girls follow her example and suck up to a powerful man, while agreeing with everything he says they too will get to be on the Supreme Court. Is it me or does that sound psychotic?
I apologize, I over used exclamation points in this post, but again, what the hell!!!!
Can we please take a moment for outrage. I have never had too much issue with ole' Laura, but what the hell?!! Sexism?!!!! The main reason anyone is giving Georgie trouble over Miers is because she is UNQUALIFIED! "A fine role model..." my ass. Does this mean if little girls follow her example and suck up to a powerful man, while agreeing with everything he says they too will get to be on the Supreme Court. Is it me or does that sound psychotic?
I apologize, I over used exclamation points in this post, but again, what the hell!!!!
Sunday, October 09, 2005
gave me the creeps
I saw Hilda at Studio this weekend and it dredged up some memories that I have not thought of for quite some time. The play captures the sick obsession that a wealthy woman has with the woman (Hilda) whom she has hired to care for her kids and clean house. Although the play is very surreal, the emotions and actions were so on target it was eerie.
As many actors have done, I have held many different jobs to pay the bills in the past. One of them was as a nanny. I have never felt more trapped or more prodded in any job than I did in that one. I had babysat before, and I have to say that wealth made a big difference in how I was treated. I was never treated badly, by anyone. But those who were not extremely wealthy, had the attitude of 'So long the kids are well cared for and happy, we are ok', whereas the wealthy had the attitude of 'The kids will only be happy and well cared for if you do everything my way, love them as your own, and sacrifice your personality while doing it'. They would have never stated this and they did not understand that they were demanding this form of control. I have been asked by some of the wealthier families to do the following:
-Iron their children's jeans.
-Be the only adult their child sees for days on end. I even had a child calling me Mommy because she assumed after a few weeks that is who I must be.
-Drive only their vehicles (even when I did not have their child in the car with me).
-Not eat any red meat in front of their child.
-Change the parents sheets while the mother watched.
-Brush, and style the mothers hair.
None of these things seem too heinous but they were all deal breakers. I have had parents come on to me, demand I take vacations with them, and yes, just like Hilda, requests that I not go home, but stay the night (with new clothes and toiletries offered by the parents). To me, there was nothing scarier than this sense of ownership that they had. The idea that because I was caring for their children they were now entitled to ask things that were so far over the line it was freaky. They knew exactly how to push me so gradually across the line that I did not realize I had taken a wrong step. With the slightest nudges they would work their way toward ownership. Worse, was the fact that there were children involved and that they were used as leverage to get me to stay, or go along with things that I, as an individual, wouldn't do, under the auspice of 'You wouldn't want to upset the children, would you?'
All these things were done, with a smile, and politeness. If I hesitated or refused then more money was offered, or a car, or a shopping trip (I kid you not). Hilda captured this current day slavery with acute simplicity. In fact I had not thought of it as slavery until watching the play. I don't think it will go down as one of my favorite pieces of theatre, but it did a concise job of capturing something which I have encountered first hand. Well done.
As many actors have done, I have held many different jobs to pay the bills in the past. One of them was as a nanny. I have never felt more trapped or more prodded in any job than I did in that one. I had babysat before, and I have to say that wealth made a big difference in how I was treated. I was never treated badly, by anyone. But those who were not extremely wealthy, had the attitude of 'So long the kids are well cared for and happy, we are ok', whereas the wealthy had the attitude of 'The kids will only be happy and well cared for if you do everything my way, love them as your own, and sacrifice your personality while doing it'. They would have never stated this and they did not understand that they were demanding this form of control. I have been asked by some of the wealthier families to do the following:
-Iron their children's jeans.
-Be the only adult their child sees for days on end. I even had a child calling me Mommy because she assumed after a few weeks that is who I must be.
-Drive only their vehicles (even when I did not have their child in the car with me).
-Not eat any red meat in front of their child.
-Change the parents sheets while the mother watched.
-Brush, and style the mothers hair.
None of these things seem too heinous but they were all deal breakers. I have had parents come on to me, demand I take vacations with them, and yes, just like Hilda, requests that I not go home, but stay the night (with new clothes and toiletries offered by the parents). To me, there was nothing scarier than this sense of ownership that they had. The idea that because I was caring for their children they were now entitled to ask things that were so far over the line it was freaky. They knew exactly how to push me so gradually across the line that I did not realize I had taken a wrong step. With the slightest nudges they would work their way toward ownership. Worse, was the fact that there were children involved and that they were used as leverage to get me to stay, or go along with things that I, as an individual, wouldn't do, under the auspice of 'You wouldn't want to upset the children, would you?'
All these things were done, with a smile, and politeness. If I hesitated or refused then more money was offered, or a car, or a shopping trip (I kid you not). Hilda captured this current day slavery with acute simplicity. In fact I had not thought of it as slavery until watching the play. I don't think it will go down as one of my favorite pieces of theatre, but it did a concise job of capturing something which I have encountered first hand. Well done.
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Sunday, October 02, 2005
that is some knot
I was encouraged by this article in the Post today. Political theatre in America happens with much more frequency then in some other countries. Especially when the countries are dealing with major conflicts or crises. Israel has had an off again on again relationship with political theatre for some time. The conflict between Israelis and Palestinians is so divisive and emotions are so strong on the subject that theatre tends to shy away from the struggle or adopt a very one sided view of it. It is not hard to see why.
I have a lot of Israeli family. They are very patriotic, and passionate in their support in the State of Israel. In talking with my mother, who is an artist and a liberal, you would quickly find that she takes an exceptionally hard line of thinking when it comes to Palestinians, and there is no room for debate, she refuses to even hear the argument. Now mind you, this is not a Muslim thing, she has many Muslim, Christian, Jewish, etc. friends, but Palestinians are another matter. In her view, they are simply wrong.
I have longed believed that the theatre and the arts are a springboard for promoting social awareness and change. I hail the group putting up Tangle in Beersheba (I know several people living there, and hope they go see it). I feel their collective quickened heartbeat, apprehension, and fear about bringing the debate to people like my mother, to soldiers they served with, to those who lived through the Holocaust, to those who never experienced a checkpoint, to those who have lost someone in this conflict, to those being brought up to know their world in this light.
I rarely experience any stage fright anymore, a rush of energy, yes, but no worry. But I can imagine, that I would if I were in this troupes place.
I have a lot of Israeli family. They are very patriotic, and passionate in their support in the State of Israel. In talking with my mother, who is an artist and a liberal, you would quickly find that she takes an exceptionally hard line of thinking when it comes to Palestinians, and there is no room for debate, she refuses to even hear the argument. Now mind you, this is not a Muslim thing, she has many Muslim, Christian, Jewish, etc. friends, but Palestinians are another matter. In her view, they are simply wrong.
I have longed believed that the theatre and the arts are a springboard for promoting social awareness and change. I hail the group putting up Tangle in Beersheba (I know several people living there, and hope they go see it). I feel their collective quickened heartbeat, apprehension, and fear about bringing the debate to people like my mother, to soldiers they served with, to those who lived through the Holocaust, to those who never experienced a checkpoint, to those who have lost someone in this conflict, to those being brought up to know their world in this light.
I rarely experience any stage fright anymore, a rush of energy, yes, but no worry. But I can imagine, that I would if I were in this troupes place.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
the paint might chip
I reread Gambaro's The Walls last night. I have always loved this play. A man is taken into custody for a crime he did not commit and the walls keep moving in on him throughout the play. They move in while his freedom, and sense of self are slowly robbed from him. Gambaro's characters are vibrant and the language is dynamic. I wish someone in the DC area would attempt this one. Maybe they have and I am not aware of it. Maybe this piece about the walls moving in around us is the perfect piece to pull out right now.
I just saw this and...I am grinning from ear to ear.
Catch you cats later.
I just saw this and...I am grinning from ear to ear.
Catch you cats later.
Monday, September 26, 2005
it has been said, and is worth saying again
At times I consume too much knowledge at once and it all fragments and I have a hard time remembering which book/article/song/poem/play I read something in, and what the point was that the writer was trying to make. My bad. I need to slow down and absorb one at a time. Except every now and then all the themes happen to converge in some sort of weird serendipity. I am reading The Blue Tango and was reading more about evacuees in the Post today and watched City of God tonight. The first deals with the murder of a young woman in Belfast, the second was another story of hope and courage after relocation to a new city, and the third gives a stark look at the drug world in Rio de Janeiro from the 60's-80's.
How does this all tie together, you ask? Oh, but it does.
It is very interesting to note that the drug trade only became prevalent in Rio after massive floods forced evacuation in other parts of Brazil. The government helped for a time and moved hordes of people to what became the slums of Rio de Janeiro. Once it was no longer forefront in the media, the government ignored the plight of this poverty stricken population (that and the political arena fed into this as well). The drug trade became rampant and now employs over 100,000 people in the city. City of God tells this story from the perspective of a young boy from the slums, who grows to be a newspaper photographer. I thought the film was tremendous.
The Blue Tango is very lyrical in its narrative style. The feel of the era is captured so well. You have here a man from a poor class who grew up to be a judge. His status did not save his daughter, whose murderer was never found. Patricia Curran was a wild child, and even though her Daddy had money, she ran with some unsavory characters. She was violently stabbed to death. The nature and number of her wounds indicated insanity or uncontrollable anger in her attacker.
You all know the story of Katrina and Rita, the superdome, the flooding, the shelters and so on.
OK, so here it is. Poverty spawns violence. I know that everyone knows this. When the only jobs available are not enough to make ends meet, or more importantly to allow one to advance their life, individuals will begin to look outside the law to ease their situation. The poor, due to the lack of education and basic opportunity, will reinforce the drug trade, illegal guns, and violent crime, simply to exist. Most who looted during Katrina, or began their foray into a life of crime were looking for a way to feed themselves. Once the cycle has begun, the children are educated into it and the way out is never shown to them. Let's face it, George W. Bush got into Yale as a C student. That is not an opportunity available to some one from South Central, Los Angeles. More importantly, no matter where you are in the social structure, you will be affected by this current. Be it in taxes, the media, violence in your community, etc.
The violence is not the biggest byproduct though. It is the need for vice that runs rampant. Be it drugs, sex, God, or gambling. The use of something to take us away, or get us out quick is so alluring to those with nothing. Escape from life drives the market. It drove Patricia to all those men, it drove up the drug trade, and it certainly will drive up the violence, because when one cannot get out easily, they will claw their way out if need be.
Socialism is looking better and better eh? No, not here in America! Once the hubbub over the newest tragedy in the U.S. wears off the people who were left behind before, will be left behind again, and so the cycle continues. My hope is that while the issue is fashionable with the voters, some real reforms are made that work to arm the poor with an education, a living and a voice.
Me-thinks too much and me-does too little.
How does this all tie together, you ask? Oh, but it does.
It is very interesting to note that the drug trade only became prevalent in Rio after massive floods forced evacuation in other parts of Brazil. The government helped for a time and moved hordes of people to what became the slums of Rio de Janeiro. Once it was no longer forefront in the media, the government ignored the plight of this poverty stricken population (that and the political arena fed into this as well). The drug trade became rampant and now employs over 100,000 people in the city. City of God tells this story from the perspective of a young boy from the slums, who grows to be a newspaper photographer. I thought the film was tremendous.
The Blue Tango is very lyrical in its narrative style. The feel of the era is captured so well. You have here a man from a poor class who grew up to be a judge. His status did not save his daughter, whose murderer was never found. Patricia Curran was a wild child, and even though her Daddy had money, she ran with some unsavory characters. She was violently stabbed to death. The nature and number of her wounds indicated insanity or uncontrollable anger in her attacker.
You all know the story of Katrina and Rita, the superdome, the flooding, the shelters and so on.
OK, so here it is. Poverty spawns violence. I know that everyone knows this. When the only jobs available are not enough to make ends meet, or more importantly to allow one to advance their life, individuals will begin to look outside the law to ease their situation. The poor, due to the lack of education and basic opportunity, will reinforce the drug trade, illegal guns, and violent crime, simply to exist. Most who looted during Katrina, or began their foray into a life of crime were looking for a way to feed themselves. Once the cycle has begun, the children are educated into it and the way out is never shown to them. Let's face it, George W. Bush got into Yale as a C student. That is not an opportunity available to some one from South Central, Los Angeles. More importantly, no matter where you are in the social structure, you will be affected by this current. Be it in taxes, the media, violence in your community, etc.
The violence is not the biggest byproduct though. It is the need for vice that runs rampant. Be it drugs, sex, God, or gambling. The use of something to take us away, or get us out quick is so alluring to those with nothing. Escape from life drives the market. It drove Patricia to all those men, it drove up the drug trade, and it certainly will drive up the violence, because when one cannot get out easily, they will claw their way out if need be.
Socialism is looking better and better eh? No, not here in America! Once the hubbub over the newest tragedy in the U.S. wears off the people who were left behind before, will be left behind again, and so the cycle continues. My hope is that while the issue is fashionable with the voters, some real reforms are made that work to arm the poor with an education, a living and a voice.
Me-thinks too much and me-does too little.
Friday, September 23, 2005
i believe you already
I am begging everyone, including my self, to stop using 'truly' to boost every descriptory word, which should be able to stand on their own. It has become the new 'like'. For example:
"Now, I love Recess Cups, but I do not think you realize how truly great the extra, truly big one is. It has so much truly delicious pseudo peanut butter and truly processed milk chocolate that my mouth was so truly happy for the entire day, although my stomach felt truly miserable from the truly huge lump of truly noxious, preservative laden, sugar-pile I ingested."
I am in the midst of reading a some new plays as well as a couple novels. I promise to discuss more sagacious items next week.
"Now, I love Recess Cups, but I do not think you realize how truly great the extra, truly big one is. It has so much truly delicious pseudo peanut butter and truly processed milk chocolate that my mouth was so truly happy for the entire day, although my stomach felt truly miserable from the truly huge lump of truly noxious, preservative laden, sugar-pile I ingested."
I am in the midst of reading a some new plays as well as a couple novels. I promise to discuss more sagacious items next week.
Thursday, September 22, 2005
as I was trying to say
Sometimes I am in the middle of a conversation and I get interrupte...
I sent this link into Lucky Spinster before my bloggin' days (I cannot remember if she posted it or not), but thanks to Mike for sending me the new, and oh so amusing, version.
Coo coo ca choo.
I sent this link into Lucky Spinster before my bloggin' days (I cannot remember if she posted it or not), but thanks to Mike for sending me the new, and oh so amusing, version.
Coo coo ca choo.
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
whatever you do, don't press that button
In many of the situations I find myself in, I feel like I am living out the exposition to some bad action adventure flick. For instance, everything is sunny and beautiful and kids are frolicking, while I walk through the park and all the while a meteor is hurtling towards earth. Even the crappy days feel like that. I have had a fight with someone, or am feeling sick, or am having money issues...but soon that will mean nothing once the aliens invade. The more I know, or read, or watch, etc. I find myself running into, what seem to me to be, characters from art, literature and the media. I will not be exaggerating when I tell you that I had dinner, over the weekend, with a denizen of Fargo. Not the actual geographical Fargo citizen, but someone that belonged in that movie. It was not that she had the accent (which she did), or that she dressed a certain way or talked about certain things (oh..the conversation, it was so priceless), it was the fact that she seemed to evoke a caricature (which of course I am sure she is not). I could barely speak for the whole night because I was so enamored of watching this person speak, and gesture. I mean, surely this could not be real...no, it was surreal and I kept waiting for zombies to attack. Some others folks I have also met in my adventures are:
The Baptist preacher from The Poisonwood Bible,
Ignatious from Confederacy of Dunces,
The Artist's Wife from a painting by Thomas Eakins,
Fletch,
Shakespeare's Mercutio,
and all the characters from Animal House.
I know that 'life experiences become art, which in turn become life' (I cannot remember who said that), but it still is surprising to me. I sit quietly typing away, so blissfully unaware that someone has found the secret button that, when pressed, will detonate the world....
The Baptist preacher from The Poisonwood Bible,
Ignatious from Confederacy of Dunces,
The Artist's Wife from a painting by Thomas Eakins,
Fletch,
Shakespeare's Mercutio,
and all the characters from Animal House.
I know that 'life experiences become art, which in turn become life' (I cannot remember who said that), but it still is surprising to me. I sit quietly typing away, so blissfully unaware that someone has found the secret button that, when pressed, will detonate the world....
Monday, September 19, 2005
parking is a bitch
I hate being late for theatre. I hate it when audience members are late. I hate it when I am onstage and I hate it when I am sitting in the house. So I mentally punished myself for being late today, even as I was sitting in my seat. Ce'este la vie.
After the show today I stayed and listened to the post show discussion. I should probably stop doing that. Arctic Actor was talking about inane comments during post show talk backs the other day and I am immensely sympathetic. I have been privy to some of the worst questions ever asked and yet I still stay and listen. I can't say why. The thing that usually bothers me (like today) is that the moderator will try to start a discussion about the play, but the questions will inevitably segway to inquiries about the actors. I watch as the actors try to bring the discussion back around to process and concept, but it is all in vain. I have long since stopped participating in these discussions. I know, I am a big fat hypocrite. If I wanted to change the tone of these talk backs I should speak up, right? Well blah...
In other news... ahh screw it, that will have to wait for the next post. I am tired.
Flamadiddle.
After the show today I stayed and listened to the post show discussion. I should probably stop doing that. Arctic Actor was talking about inane comments during post show talk backs the other day and I am immensely sympathetic. I have been privy to some of the worst questions ever asked and yet I still stay and listen. I can't say why. The thing that usually bothers me (like today) is that the moderator will try to start a discussion about the play, but the questions will inevitably segway to inquiries about the actors. I watch as the actors try to bring the discussion back around to process and concept, but it is all in vain. I have long since stopped participating in these discussions. I know, I am a big fat hypocrite. If I wanted to change the tone of these talk backs I should speak up, right? Well blah...
In other news... ahh screw it, that will have to wait for the next post. I am tired.
Flamadiddle.
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
its like tomato
I actually heard this conversation today between two children.
Child 1: Hey is Tom-ass coming over to your house today.
Child 2: His name is not Tom-ass its Thomas.
Child 1: That's what I said, Tom-ass.
Child 2: No you said Tom-ass, but his name is Thom-as.
Child 1: You just don't know how to say it.
Child 2: No, you just don't know how to say it.
You see folks, the line here between distinguished and idiotic, is not so great at all.
Take that!
Child 1: Hey is Tom-ass coming over to your house today.
Child 2: His name is not Tom-ass its Thomas.
Child 1: That's what I said, Tom-ass.
Child 2: No you said Tom-ass, but his name is Thom-as.
Child 1: You just don't know how to say it.
Child 2: No, you just don't know how to say it.
You see folks, the line here between distinguished and idiotic, is not so great at all.
Take that!
Monday, September 12, 2005
damn she's good
Let us start with the stable
Let it be a real stable, and let Mary be angry
at the filth of it, at dust sifting from the rafters.
Let her grow resigned as the cracks of light are grouted by night,
let her grow out of mind
as the invisible fist grabs guts
and twists,
then twists harder,
let her grow scared. Let her try to remember
wading in the sea with her girlfriends, the coarse hem of her skirt in her hands,
The algae fingering her ankles.
Let her try, but let her fail. Let the fist
drag her under, under and under,
let her breath tear ragged as hot bread.
Let sweat ride the dark hairs above her lip.
Are you picturing her naked? Let her be naked.
Let us write in the animals, but not kneeling, and if they roll their great eyes skyward
let it not be like saints in paintings
but like bored executives rising in elevators.
Yes, let the animals itch,
let them switch their tails,
let the puckered stars of their assholes flex and soft wads of shit fall to the hay.
Let Mary's purse of a stomach wrench itself inside out,
let the donkey sniff her vomit, bare yellow teeth, and turn away.
Let there be flies,
flies in the mucousy eyes of cows,
flies skimming her slick of blood, its tributaries
with rafts of dirty hay.
Let Joseph work in his hand to feel the slick rind of the child's skull,
then wipe his bloody fingers on her thigh.
Let her squeeze his other hand harder than she needs to.
Let her wonder who is screaming,
let her wonder if she's dying,
let her take the name
of her own sweet son
in vain.
-Beth Ann Fennelly
We elevate humans to icons and then forget their humanity. Isn't Mary's story all the better and more rewarding if there was a struggle. Not being Catholic, or even Christian, the story always reeked to me of falsity. Namely because Mary was this serene, gentle figure in the face of her ordeal. It rings much more sincere this way - young, scared, angry, tired, hurting, and concerned with getting through each moment.
I have just finished slipping through (at least that is how effortless it felt) two wonderful collections by Beth Ann Fennelly Tender Hooks and Open House. I am in love with her voice. She is Sylvia Plath, Shirley Manson, Sarah Kane, David Mamet, Dario Fo, and Virginia Wolf rolled together. But she is herself, she is unique. I highly, HIGHLY, recommend her poetry.
Let it be a real stable, and let Mary be angry
at the filth of it, at dust sifting from the rafters.
Let her grow resigned as the cracks of light are grouted by night,
let her grow out of mind
as the invisible fist grabs guts
and twists,
then twists harder,
let her grow scared. Let her try to remember
wading in the sea with her girlfriends, the coarse hem of her skirt in her hands,
The algae fingering her ankles.
Let her try, but let her fail. Let the fist
drag her under, under and under,
let her breath tear ragged as hot bread.
Let sweat ride the dark hairs above her lip.
Are you picturing her naked? Let her be naked.
Let us write in the animals, but not kneeling, and if they roll their great eyes skyward
let it not be like saints in paintings
but like bored executives rising in elevators.
Yes, let the animals itch,
let them switch their tails,
let the puckered stars of their assholes flex and soft wads of shit fall to the hay.
Let Mary's purse of a stomach wrench itself inside out,
let the donkey sniff her vomit, bare yellow teeth, and turn away.
Let there be flies,
flies in the mucousy eyes of cows,
flies skimming her slick of blood, its tributaries
with rafts of dirty hay.
Let Joseph work in his hand to feel the slick rind of the child's skull,
then wipe his bloody fingers on her thigh.
Let her squeeze his other hand harder than she needs to.
Let her wonder who is screaming,
let her wonder if she's dying,
let her take the name
of her own sweet son
in vain.
-Beth Ann Fennelly
We elevate humans to icons and then forget their humanity. Isn't Mary's story all the better and more rewarding if there was a struggle. Not being Catholic, or even Christian, the story always reeked to me of falsity. Namely because Mary was this serene, gentle figure in the face of her ordeal. It rings much more sincere this way - young, scared, angry, tired, hurting, and concerned with getting through each moment.
I have just finished slipping through (at least that is how effortless it felt) two wonderful collections by Beth Ann Fennelly Tender Hooks and Open House. I am in love with her voice. She is Sylvia Plath, Shirley Manson, Sarah Kane, David Mamet, Dario Fo, and Virginia Wolf rolled together. But she is herself, she is unique. I highly, HIGHLY, recommend her poetry.
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
its the new black
Oh my my my, when will they ever learn? Don't they know that they were wrong when hating blacks was en vogue? Don't they know that they were wrong about not letting women vote? It is not just the moral high horse that keeps the white, Christian, straight, conservative so damned prejudice; it's really just that they are out of style. They are the same people that wear comb overs, polyester ties and still listen to cassettes. They don't realize when the tide changes so they are the last to get on the merry go round. We need a social politics fab five to do weekly make overs for these poor saps. Because in a few years, when gay marriage is not just accepted, but has federal money supporting programs to help those gay couples who are just starting out (a sort of affirmative, with snaps, action), these relics will have to do the back peddle and go on talk shows to say "Well, at the time I just could not support it, but now I have come to understand that marriage between two consenting adults really is ok." They will smile and hug a gay person, to show that queers no longer freak them out. They will not say sorry, They will not say they were wrong, but they will disco around it like the old farts that they are.
You disappoint me.
You disappoint me.
Sunday, September 04, 2005
the news the news
reading reading like watching myself crumble. WHHHYYYYYY!!!!???? Is this the end, ending of the what? Big Easy you are
fetid
horrid
wasted
putrid
blasted
rotted
squalid
your ids
hurt my id
the world is spinning too fast and everything that is spinning is nothing you want to pluck out of the air because all those things flying around will bite off your arm, they are so scary with their sharp teeth. Capitol you are
fetid
horrid
wasted
putrid
blasted
rotted
squalid
your ids
hurt my id
How does it all get synced up? Katrina. Rehnquist, War, Stampede, O'Connor, Gas. Makes one wonder...
fetid
horrid
wasted
putrid
blasted
rotted
squalid
your ids
hurt my id
the world is spinning too fast and everything that is spinning is nothing you want to pluck out of the air because all those things flying around will bite off your arm, they are so scary with their sharp teeth. Capitol you are
fetid
horrid
wasted
putrid
blasted
rotted
squalid
your ids
hurt my id
How does it all get synced up? Katrina. Rehnquist, War, Stampede, O'Connor, Gas. Makes one wonder...
let me eat my cake
Tyranny is dealt with in an amazing way in Ruhl's Passion Play. I was staggered and inspired by the work. Ruhl writes about the nexus of religion and politics at a time when it could not be more relevant. But as you watch the history of how skewed the world is by the intermingling of the two, you see that this is not a new problem, and it is one that will rear its ugly head time and again.
She talks about how we democratically elect our own monarchs. Which is what we see happening now. I found myself depressed as I drove home last night with the thought in my mind that my voting does nothing in the end, as I am never one to vote with the majority, and the majority of those who vote are not representative of the will of the nation. They are the conservative religious and the rich. So the tide of America will always elect those that will impose the will of the few on the lives of the many. Our current president is the exact embodiment of this disturbing theory. The masses elected a "likeable guy" who used tyranny to get himself where he is. There was no question as to whether or not he would be president. His party and his family grew him from infancy to play this role and they masterminded his ascension to the throne. Now, while there, he ignores the wishes of the people with the ever familiar "I know what is best for you" attitude that is the hallmark of a ruler, not necessarily a leader.
If this huge issue was not enough to deal with in this piece, Ruhl also tackles sin, war, theatre, religion, family...I found myself exhausted by the end, in a good way. I also loved her ability to use surreal moments to augment the push of the work. I loved the water flowing from Mary's mouth, and the giant fish. I know that this makes no sense, and in all honesty this is not the kind of play where I could do a short summary, so instead, if you are in the DC area, just go and see it. It really is a most incredible feat of theatre.
She talks about how we democratically elect our own monarchs. Which is what we see happening now. I found myself depressed as I drove home last night with the thought in my mind that my voting does nothing in the end, as I am never one to vote with the majority, and the majority of those who vote are not representative of the will of the nation. They are the conservative religious and the rich. So the tide of America will always elect those that will impose the will of the few on the lives of the many. Our current president is the exact embodiment of this disturbing theory. The masses elected a "likeable guy" who used tyranny to get himself where he is. There was no question as to whether or not he would be president. His party and his family grew him from infancy to play this role and they masterminded his ascension to the throne. Now, while there, he ignores the wishes of the people with the ever familiar "I know what is best for you" attitude that is the hallmark of a ruler, not necessarily a leader.
If this huge issue was not enough to deal with in this piece, Ruhl also tackles sin, war, theatre, religion, family...I found myself exhausted by the end, in a good way. I also loved her ability to use surreal moments to augment the push of the work. I loved the water flowing from Mary's mouth, and the giant fish. I know that this makes no sense, and in all honesty this is not the kind of play where I could do a short summary, so instead, if you are in the DC area, just go and see it. It really is a most incredible feat of theatre.
Saturday, September 03, 2005
invisible line
Years ago when I was in college I went to see the parent of a friend in a community production of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. It was beyond painful and I was gripped with the familiar impulse to stand up and shout. "You are all really bad!" or "You guys are trying to act!" Something, anything to break the impenetrable monotony of such wretched theatre. I find myself gripped with this same impulse even when I am not at a bad production. I have even had to hold onto my seat to keep myself from bounding up and yelling "Ha, ha I know you are all trying to be in the moment but I know you are just my buddy from the last show I did and I have seen you do this exact moment before. You are cheating, dammit!" But then, I cheat. Actors may not think they have a bag of tricks, but we do, Oh yes we do. The best experiences for me are the ones when all the stars (writing, direction, technical, acting ) all align. Then I am swept away, but that is the exception, not the rule of my play going experience. More times than not the seams show. Yet, I still see promise in most work, or bright moments, or brilliant ones for that matter. I am headed to see Passion Play tonight. I am expecting great things, namely because I love Ruhl's work... And I will stay in my seat.
Friday, September 02, 2005
and the air is brown
I am so angry at the events in the world. I am flustered and paralyzed.
The waters rose and drowned a city, a rumor trampled 1000 people to death in a matter of minutes, the powers that be are opening wide the doors for more filth to seep into the air we breath.
More dirt in the air.
I wonder what toxins inhaled by us and warming up the earth will do?
Oh wait, they will cause biblical size storms and make people think crazy, like radical religious crazy,
because dammit I need some gas,
or my life is more important
or I can’t move I am so suffocated under all this shitty air.
Maybe our psychotic behavior is just that, we have sucked in too much poison and now we are rife with it. It all feels too big to stop.
I want to be the one who figures the way out.
I want to help the one who figures the way out.
Or maybe I will just move to Canada where I can buy some weed, not fear guns, and say aboot instead of about.
I want an absence of religion in those I look to to run things,
I want the presence of sanity in the people who surround me, and
I want the collective unconscious to be tapped so that we all stop fucking with each other and realize that the best, and maybe only way out is to work together. So kitch.
Ok done now. Just feel like I puked.
The waters rose and drowned a city, a rumor trampled 1000 people to death in a matter of minutes, the powers that be are opening wide the doors for more filth to seep into the air we breath.
More dirt in the air.
I wonder what toxins inhaled by us and warming up the earth will do?
Oh wait, they will cause biblical size storms and make people think crazy, like radical religious crazy,
because dammit I need some gas,
or my life is more important
or I can’t move I am so suffocated under all this shitty air.
Maybe our psychotic behavior is just that, we have sucked in too much poison and now we are rife with it. It all feels too big to stop.
I want to be the one who figures the way out.
I want to help the one who figures the way out.
Or maybe I will just move to Canada where I can buy some weed, not fear guns, and say aboot instead of about.
I want an absence of religion in those I look to to run things,
I want the presence of sanity in the people who surround me, and
I want the collective unconscious to be tapped so that we all stop fucking with each other and realize that the best, and maybe only way out is to work together. So kitch.
Ok done now. Just feel like I puked.
Thursday, September 01, 2005
so there!
I have put this off for far too long. Been told by many to just get off my ass and do it. So here. I did it. Quit bugging me.
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