P.S. COMING SOON

I had the singular greatest rehearsal of my life today.  No joke.  I started the MSU Kiddie Tour production with the freshmen today called Abiyoyo.  I wrote the script (based on a South African fable), am directing and choreographing it, and am assisting the composer with lyrics.  The composer is one of the coolest cats I've ever met, a sophomore in the program, with great energy, a good heart, and more raw talent than seems possible.  We are both doing the show for no credit, pay, or departmental requirements.  We are actually doing a show, just to do it.  Because it needed to get done. Due to those circumstances, he and I have made a promise to each other about the kind of process it is going to be:  creative, collaborative, minimal stress, easygoing fun in an efficient manner.  So far so good.  Today's rehearsal was just.... well, to be honest, today's rehearsal was the whole reason I do this thing called theatre.  It filled my soul and excited my spirit.  

Those of you coming to See What I Wanna See, I am arranging a showing of it for you Saturday afternoon  (11/22) so the Friday night and Saturday night crowds can catch.  I really think this is something special.

who knew?

I spent the weekend in Marshall.  Traditionally, that admission is shameful and full of remorse.  But I gotta say, this time, it was just what the doctor ordered.  I had such a great time with my siblings and nephews.  We all had the kind of fun together that makes family FAMILY.  It was just what I needed.  Thank you so much Chris, Laura, Bree, Scott, Carter, Logan, and the other family friends (Emily, Matt, Ross, Laurie, etc.)!!!  I really needed this.  I appreciate you!

Too much this week!

It's going to be a crazy week again after the last week of relaxation and refueling from the previous week.  I do believe I am in a vicious cycle.  I work my ass off one week and get everything done all at once...then I chill and recoup.  The recouping effectively takes away the prep time that would prevent the next crazy week, thus every other week is hell.  I have got to break this habit.

Autobiography

For the first time since I was 18, I am going to be performing in a Dance Concert this Winter.  I auditioned on a whim, one of the actions I have taken to give back to myself during all the rigors of the program.  (I got really catty last year and I don't want a repeat.)  The piece I have been cast in is choreographed by the Head of our Dance Dept, Julie and has 8 dancers in it.  It is called 'autobigraphy' and incorporates text and movement.  The really fun part is that we are deciding what the text is, as it is a combination of our life stories.  She wants us to write something that sums up who we are, create movement to go with it, and then she is going to sculpt it into a cohesive piece.  The whole process is creative and collaborative, as we work with ease in an open schedule.  We have until December to put this thing together, for Christ's sake!  How amazing to have time to make mistakes and find the creation in everything.  I am loving it.

So I wrote one story...the story of my brother and I... to use but Julie thinks it is too much about him and not enough about me.  So today after my jazz class, I stayed to play in the studio and wouldn't you know, a million ideas came to mind once I made the commitment to play.  Here is the text I came up with...It's called "Feet".  What do you think?

I love my feet

They take me where I need to be

They know where I've been

They can shop in any shoe store at any time

       regardless of the size of my thighs

They are strong when I am not 

They are graceful when I am not

They know when to stop when I do not

They know when to run when I do not

They know where I'm going when I've lost my way

I have gypsy feet

I have pictures of my feet standing at guideposts in this journey

  Pompeii, the French Quarter, Central Park, the Taj Mahal

    Baltic Sea, Mediterranean Sea, Ganges River, Lake Superior

      Teatro Politeama, Red October Hall, Lincoln Center, the Southern

        Next to friend, family, lovers & mentors

          I love my gypsy feet...I am grateful for how well they travel

My feet hate socks.

Always have

My only temper tantrums as a child involved socks.

  They just never felt right.

Maybe my feet don't like feeling the world through a censor

(just like me)

Or maybe they don't like being held in

(just like me)

Or maybe it's just those damn itchy seams across the toes

Like me, my feet prefer freedom to sensibility

I fell in love with the first man

  who kissed the arch of my foot

    before the curve of my body

      and that has made all the difference.

My feet know how to dance

Maybe that's why I love them so much.

Did you know that once, after taking a full six-year break from it, I put on a pair of tap shoes and it all came back in the span of ten minutes?

Have you ever heard of such magical feet?

Me neither.

My feet walk away when it's bad for me.

Even when it's people that I love with every other part of me.

My feet know first when it's time to cut my losses.

My feet get antsy if I stay in one place for too long.

Maybe that's why I move so much

Or why I am a perpetual long distance friend and girlfriend

My feet get bored

My feet want more

My feet need to see new things

My feet don't believe in good enough

My feet have something to prove

My feet won't take no for an answer

My feet are certain

My feet are confident

My feet know the journey is long and has barely begun

My feet are beautiful

In shades of callus you can't even handle

In hues of hardened blister that will make your eyes tear in wonder

In tones of scar that will speak to your soul about what beauty actually is

My feet will blow your mind.

and the rest of me... well, that's not so bad either.

Closure.

Momma Gayle and I met up at the Minneapolis Institute of Art yesterday.  We went through the Japanese Edo Period section where I proceeded to give her the entire Dramaturgy project that I had prepped and was bitching about earlier this week.  Then I had sushi and seaweed salad.

And that my friends, is what we call closure.  I'm over it now.  Thanks Mom!

An evening with a very old man...

I just got home from a black-tie gala honoring the Foundation of MSU...i.e. paying tribute to all the rich people who donate to the University.  It was an extremely impressive affair, I must admit.  The University made over $12 million from personal donations this year and I was seated among the people who, even in this economy, could afford to give so generously.  

Why was I there?  By being the Andreas Graduate this year, a few perks have appeared.  Dr. Hustoles informed me that there was an empty seat at the Andreas table and that I would come to fill it, to represent all of us Andreas scholars (there are 5 in throughout the college and by the way, the tickets to this thing were $90 each).  What he didn't tell me, was that I was to serve as Mr. Andreas' date, the 86 year old billionaire who gave $7 million last year alone...and has a private jet.  After having lunch with the man last week among my fellow Andreas Graduates and not being able to fill the conversation, I called my brother in for ideas on how to steer the conversation.  Mr. Andreas is a man who deeply misses his wife of 64 years (she passed last year) and it is very clear that she was the talker of the two.  

So tonight, I followed my brother's advice, leading the conversation to business and WWII.   (Chris said that all men over the age of 70 have a lot to say about it.  He was right.)  I escorted him everywhere, sat next to him at dinner, carried his awards to his car for him, and the whole time, we had easy, delightful conversation.  It was lovely.

It lead me to a discovery though.  This was the first time I had talked to an older gentlemen since my grandpas died a few years ago.  Listening to Mr. Andreas tell war stories filled me with such a longing for Grandpa Bob that I almost teared up.  When he started quizzing me about my life story, I immediately heard Grandpa Earl in my head saying, "If you don't ask, you don't know naw-ting."  And while is was fun to spend an evening with a millionaire, it was even better to feel like my grandpas were around again.  

I had no idea I missed them so much...

Ah, ephemeral scholarship...

I had a new experience yesterday.  I was researching Chushingura: 47-Samurai, the history of it, kabuki, the origins and practices appropriate for the show...all for this huge project in my Dramaturgy class.  We only have two main projects and since I'm now on the quest for good grades (to undo the whole undergrad thing), I really spent time on this project.  

So here's the new part:  I got so into the research of it that I really didn't know when to quit.  I assumed that as dramaturge that I would be quizzed on everything, the obscure and the obvious.  I put together a huge power point, I wrote an accompanying 16 page packet to hand out to my faux production team.  But maybe for the first time in this race of grad school, I really knew this material.  I wasn't b.s.ing any of it.  And I loved it all and found it fascinating.  I was so excited to present this material because...are you ready?...I really wanted other people to get excited about how incredibly cool the Ako Incident was and all the Japanese representations of it, nevermind the complete visual masterpiece that is Kabuki.  

So, I'm up til 3 am, I dream about it for 3 hours, finally just have to get up to proof it again, go to school and look forward to the presentation.  Our teacher comes in and says that instead of 30 minutes, she'd like for each of us to only go 15 minutes since it's the first round of presentations so we can talk about what worked and didn't with the class.  So I get up to do my thing, and it's too fast and rushed to get all the info out and what I do get to say barely touches the surface of the research that would really affect this fake production we're having.    I finish, get lauded much for the quality of my work from the class, and we have another ridiculous "I feel" class discussion instead of learning more about the two plays presented (King Lear was the other).  During this touchy-feely convo, I learned from the instructor (and peers) that I did about 4X more work than I needed to so maybe all that time could have been better served in my Pre-Production Analysis due Friday.   

In a nutshell, I experienced true joy for the sake of scholarship and knowledge for the first time...and it didn't include musical theatre or dance.  (Progress)  And then it got followed by a huge old letdown that I am having a hard time getting over...  I think because I got so excited about it and then didn't get the chance to get people on my excitement train or explain all the reasons that this play is so incredible.  I don't know... I know I got an A, but... it doesn't seem good enough.