Sunday, June 29, 2008

Zombies!!!!


Zombies.  Everyone loves zombies.

So there have been a lot of flyers on a lot of phone poles advertising today's zombie kickball game.

I've seen videos of zombie walks over the years - it's the latest wrinkle in a burgeoning wave of participatory theatre - best exemplified by Improv Everywhere.  It's the kind of thing you watch on YouTube and wish you could have happen near you so you can get involved - everyone else seems to be doing the neat things and you get left out (at least, that's been my sad experience of myself over the years).

So a little web browsing led me to Zombie Kickball's MySpace page - and out came our old friend "Daid Elvis".

Still can't find my makeup kit, so there followed a quick trip to the mall.  At the local metal shop (yes, the mall actually has a shop catering to metal heads and goths) I had a nice chat with the young kids who helped me buy quick makeup - powder, not my first choice, black lipstick and pencils.

Now I know I have stuff if i need it.

So I had the incredible pleasure of driving through the streets of Portland on a bright day dressed as a dead Elvis Presley.

The game itself was a total riot - basically we chose up sides by numbering of  "aaaahgh" or "uuuuhgh" and just started whacking away at the ball.

There was a large and enthusiastic crowd.  I led them in zombiefied renditions of "YMCA" and "Take me out to the ballgame" and tried to do the wave but my arms kept falling off.

It was kind of like Avner Eisenberg's class in eccentric acting.  That class changed my life - and I think my present approach to life may be traced to that interaction.  It took me to a place that was real - really inside myself, like I'd come home inside my own heart.

So the game was a blast - ruthlessly logical in behaviour.  

Made it into the Lewiston Sun-Journa and eHerald - too cool for words.

Facebook gallery is here.

What can I say but "Arrrrhghh!"

Still No Ouzo and a Doozy of a Duo













It's not like I'm not having an interesting life right now...

I've made it to the third level in the quest for my new dream job.  If it goes well one week from tomorrow, Monday - then we'll know and a whole new adventure will start.

MEANWHILE, (comma), the Greek Festival happened this weekend at Holy Trinity Hellenic Church behind the Cathedral.  I set myself the task of having another glass of real Metaxa ouzo just like last year (just like I can get at Geno's for about two dollars a glass less...)

I managed to stop by to have some of Mr. Panos' Genuine Greek Coffee (shown) - which is very, very thick, very, very strong and very, very sweet - the grounds left in the cup looked less like coffee than a construction site in the bottom.

I also bought a box of pastries for C. - very, very tasty stuff - 30% flour and 70% sugar - God, I love Greek culture.

So this led me to JavaNet, where, honest to God, I tried to update this blog.  I was just getting out my laptop when the unmistakeable sound of a tuning violin exploded in my ear.... then a cello.

That's right, of all the coffee joints in all the seaports in the world, the Barefoot Strings had to sit next to me.

They were quite good, playing out of a book of basic classical duets - Haydn's "Surprise Symphony", Bach's "Minuet in G", that kind of thing - good basic cocktail background repertoire, the backbone of any group wanting to play gigs and develop a sound.

Not that their sound needed developing - they did quite well.  I did have a chance to copy a quick version of "Personally I Blame Marcel Proust" as a string duet (the original tango orchestra file is here) and they very kindly read it - doing a very nice job.

I did record them on my laptop and set a page up for them on Birdclan - if they approve I'll link to it.

We exchanged cards and maybe I'll write for them - one more little proof that things are going in a new direction that I've always needed them to go in.

Then, back to the Greek Festival for dancing - and a "sold out" Ouzo sign.  Probably for the best.




Saturday, June 28, 2008

Here's a Howdy-do


Things happen so fast sometimes.

It's been a official, calendar week since I left LField.  I'm still getting computer alert messages - some of them quite interesting.

I also got an email from Acorn Productions, telling me about the Fourth Friday Artwalk in Westbrook. 

Who knew?

So it seemed a cool idea to stage what Adira called a "tango bomb" - which Tall James said might get us noticed by Homeland security.

So now it's a Tango Flash - or "Flash Tango" - which name went well with the torrential rain and lightening happening about 30 minutes before the scheduled start.

A nervous phone call to Adira about moving it to the local Mexican restaurant got a text saying "move into Dana Warp Mill".   So we did - my friends with Acorn Productions let us use their small studio to dance and it worked out really well.

C. was there to shoot as well - I got a chance to see what I look like when I dance.  C. is a brilliant photographer - I need to lose more weight....


Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Who the Hell am I kidding....?


... it was really like this.  It's always been like this, wherever I've  been.


Saturday, June 21, 2008

It was like this...



Not all the time - but enough to create a strong impression....

Friday, June 20, 2008

the sound of one door closing


"Well, that's all over with".

One of my favorite lines by one of my favorite actors (Sigourney Weaver) from one of my favorite movies ("Dave").

I cannot quite get my head around the fact that my year of voluntary servitude is done.  I'm torn about identifying the town - though I suppose since it's on my website bio there's no point in being coy.

I keep having this stomach-churning feeling - like a bad roast-beef sandwich trying to come back up (to cite the latest example - not working there means my chances of avoiding such another sandwich gone bad have improved greatly...), just a heave from deep inside my body.

I admit that when I got in my car I started laughing uncontrollably - I've been holding it in since being told I wasn't coming back - holding back a heaving sense of relief, anger, confusion, fear and joy, all happening so fast, in such vivid intensity that I could only come home, sleep, rise and teach each day.

It was easy to just stay in that place, to feel it all - even some tears - on the lovely drive back to town.

Thank goodness for the people - teachers, support, administrators and especially the students - who, along with my friends, made it possible to finish with grace and laughter.

I have failed as often as I have triumphed - and I know that some good has come from all of this.  I've rarely been in the position of simply not - being - able - to - do what I had set out to do.  It was an impossible job - and we all sort of knew it...

...but I needed the money - they needed someone to try to make it work - and I couldn't do the job they were asking of me.  

As one of the admins told me, several times - no one could.

If I've learned one thing it's that you have to take chances to be yourself, to be who you are, who you were meant to be.

I think, as of this foggy, foggy evening, sitting in the window of JavaNet, that something has run its course.  A part in a play I was trying to force myself into, something grotesquely unfair to myself, has come to an end.

I am not that kind of teacher - I thought I always wanted to be a band director, that that was the best expression of my need to use my voice - not in singing, but in expressing myself.  Twenty three years of my life have been spent speaking with that part of my voice.

Now another part of me is going to speak...I cannot, cannot, cannot wait to hear what I'm going to say.

Sunday, June 15, 2008

La Dos e Quatro



There is a lot to think about.

Let's talk about tango.

I've gotten hooked - irrevocably hooked - on learning and dancing Argentine tango.  Years ago an actor friend dragged me off to Maine Ballroom Dance to learn American (Ballroom) Tango, which was repetitious but fun (E.G. was a good dancer and actor), but I didn't think of it again until I saw my pal Adira on a First Friday - that led to an invitation to see her dance at a milonga.

The tango they were doing seemed much more engaging that the pattern-based dancing I'd learned before.  Something inside me clicked.  I told myself at the time that all the energy came from a desire to dance well with Adira - if you ever see her dance you'll understand why - but this really goes much deeper.

I think the improvisational relation of music to movement allows something very powerful to come up from inside me.  It makes a lot of sense, if sense can be the thing you call it.

So now I am part of something I've never really had before - a community.  Oh, I know I have in the past - the Cathedral, MSDI, the American Renaissance Theatre - but this is a group I'm really aware of.

It's really quite cute.

And on top of that I think I've found my voice as a composer - or recovered it.  Writing for our local little tango orchestra - Tango Mucha Labia - led me very deep, very quickly. 

It's an odd feeling - I'm not scared of what it's doing to me - I just have to remember to keep my hands and feet inside the carriage as it goes along the roller coaster.

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Pre Sushi, ergo post propter sushi

How do I keep my heart organized?  Or, more rationally, how do I keep from being swamped by the waves of feeling I have right now?

Finally connected with a phone interview with a possible new job - life 2.0 could be calling.  If so, then I think I'm ready.

Took the W's out for ice cream to celebrate and I think I'm heading out now to have the tango practica of my life.

It all comes from a sense of allowing yourself to be who you need to be - who you are - the basis of all my teaching - and biggest problems in my life.

OK - out for sushi and then dance.

Monday, June 9, 2008

Waiting for the dance to start

What an interesting way to live one's life.

I'm playing phone tag with a possible new job - and a possible new life.  It would be so cool to go to a new place while staying in the old place.

So, in the days since my last post I've taught a man how to speak...and not shout.

I've taught kids how to see what they're looking at 

I've taught kids how to hear what they're listening to.

I've escaped from something - something that was holding me back and I wish I had time, right now, sitting here in the NorthStar, to tell you what it was.

But it's fluttering inside, like a bird getting ready to fly out of a nest its already left.

It's amazing how you either keep up with this or you have to speak metaphorically and try to sum things up.

Well, we shall see.....

Wednesday, June 4, 2008

Knock, knock...

In general, a very rich day.  Some are full of incident and activity - others unfold as a set of large strokes that paint a simple but forceful picture.

Today I taught a man from Africa about knock-knock jokes.

One of my worries has been several "cardiac events" in response to stress - is it purely emotional or does emotion unmask a condition "appropriate" to my age?.  This led me to visit my doctor's office, give a list of symptoms and submit to an EKG to start the process of diagnosis.

IT takes ten leads, taped to wrists, ankles and chest - the nurse was helped by an assistant - a very tall, very big African man from the Sudan.

The nurse said she was Native - Cree, Blackfoot and Passamquoddy - pretty much a mix across the northern tier of the country - I was just Cherokee.

So as I was being "led" I asked Esa, the assistant "where are you from" - "Africa".

I laughed.  "That doesn't help much.  She's Native and that narrows it down to around 500 different tribes".

Esa smiled and said "the Sudan".  "Zubehata!", I replied and he smiled a really big smile.

"Stay down and don't move during the test".  "No knock knock jokes?".

"No", replied the nurse.  "What is a knock knock?", Esa asked.

We had to act it out for him - which brought added poignancy to the moment I finally asked him (after the test was done) "Knock knock"

"No one is home".

"Stop it, Esa.  Go with me.  Knock knock".  "Who's there?"

"Esa".  "Esa who?"

"Esa the doctor come into the room through the door"

It took a second.  Those wonderful eyes went totally blank.  I thought that knock knock jokes are a test I use to decide if someone is really worth knowing - if they can find joy in puns and language then they get onto my list...

...and Esa made it.  The roar of his laughter and the brightness of his smile suddenly lit the room.  He laughed at the pun and repeated it for us both.  It seemed to get funnier.

These last few weeks have been very stressful - it feels like the tension pushed my nerves to "11" and they haven't learned how to get back to "1".  It felt so good to laugh, to laugh until tears came - not so much the joke but the release from all the tension, the return to joy.

I helped teach a man from Africa about knock knock jokes.

Who knew?

It's cloudy in there, and all white...

Today is recovery from the last two or three weeks - 

which are the capper of the last two or three months - 

which are the summation of the last two or three years.

A question came up in a story on MSNBC - asking students in a program where they wanted to be tomorrow, next week and next year.

I honestly don't think I've ever formally considered such a question.  Or it was something that was so obvious that I didn't really take time to think about it.  Today, being in such shaky shape after last night's rousing season finale concert, I should do so.

Besides which, seeing the doctor will answer some questions as well.

This has been an amazing period of time.  Perhaps I've come to the end of the innate, unthinking programming that's driven me for so long - now, perhaps for the first time in memory, I know enough about who I am and what I want to take control - scary though that thought may be.

Off to the doctor.  We'll see.

"All will be well, and all will be well, and all manner of thing will be well".

Thank you, lady Julian.

Monday, June 2, 2008

Who do I send the card to?

For a perfect day like this?

For students who take chances and strive?

For friends who sit in the garden and chat
under a perfect sky, framed
by the Springtime leaves of the freshest green
that catch the yellow of the Sun?

For children making mud pies and
needing to be scrubbed in
the rain barrel;
marking your best khaki pants 
with their hugs and feet.

Who do I send the card that says 
"thank you, I see what you're getting at"?