quotes I plan to ponder scribally soon
"Salt, sweat, noise, smell: the theatre that's not in the theatre, the theatre on carts, on wagons, on trestles, audiences standing, drinking, sitting round tables, audiences joining in, answering back: theatre in back rooms, upstairs rooms, barns: the one-night stands, the torn sheet pinned up across the hall, the battered screen to conceal the quick chnages- that one generic term, theatre, covered all this and the sparkling chandeliers too." - -Peter Brook, "The Rough Theatre"
"When Brecht talks of actors understanding their function, he never imagined that all could be achieved by analysis and discussion. The theatre is not the classroom.... The quality of the work done in any rehearsal comes entirely from the creativity of the working climate- and creativity cannot be brought into being by explanations... Brecht recognized this and in his last years he surprised his associates by saying that the theatre must be naive. With this word he was not reneging his life's work: he was pointing out that the action of putting together a play is always a form of playing, that watching a play is playing: he spoke disconcertingly of elegance and entertainment. It is not by chance that in many languages the word for a play and to play is the same." - -Peter Brook, "The Rough Theatre"
"The function of the image, as Gogol said, is to express life itself, not ideas or arguments about life." - -Andrey Tarkovsky, "Sculpting In Time"
"Works of art are, as it were, formed by organic process; whether good or bad, they are living organisms with their own circulatory system which must not be disturbed." - -Andrey Tarkovsky, "Sculpting In Time"
a mechanically-rotating lazy susan
In the display window at the Emporium, the display window which separates me in my infamous window seat from the street, is a sculpture on a mechanically-rotating lazy susan. It is of a nude model and a group of artists painting her.
Walking by is a girl of about 3, with very blonde hair and long, dark, Sullivanesque eyelashes. The sculpture stops here and she watches it, fascinated. Her finger taps the glass each time a new sculpted person rotates in front of her. She seems to be talking to it. The grown-up she is with tries to get her to continue walking- but not too strenuously, and she ignores him, fixated, and he leans against the building and waits for this fancy to pass.
Another small child, a boy of about 5, and his grown-up approach. The boy has light brown hair and the same eyelashes as the girl. He watches the sculpture with the same intent, only without all the movement. He places his forehead against the glass and is still.
But he is invading the girl’s space. She pushes him away and yells. Unphased, his eyes never leaving the sculpture, he returns to the window. The sculpture is in the corner of the display, where two windows meet at not-quite-a-90-degree angle. The girl shoves the boy again, to the other window, where he takes his place.
With peace now declared the children continue to study the sculpture while their grown-ups talk amongst themselves.
The boy loses interest first, but not before asking, “Mommy, what’s that little brown spot?” The girl eventually loses interest herself and, in exploring the rest of the display, discovers me watching her through the window. She smiles widely but shyly and looks away quickly. We exchange the same look a couple more times, then they are gone.
They return but then I am across the street, and the girl and I play a round of peek-a-boo, her hiding behind a tree and a rubbish bin, me hiding behind my friend Rachel.
new
I'm constantly looking for new ways to inspire myself to write. Sometimes those new ways turn out to be old ways. And sometimes that works. But alas. Here I am, here I write, and there I go. The codeine and antibiotics are really doing a number on my brain and on my stomach. I think coffee with Katrina this evening will help. On both accounts.
Molly's Kidnap Novel
I keep thinking you look at me all the time but maybe it's just because I look at you all the time and you're looking back at me and thinking, Why is she looking at me?
I want to talk to you but I don't know what to say except will you marry me?
I feel like Molly Ringwald in "16 Candles"- Hi!- Hi my name is- Hey what's up- Hey this is gonna sound weird but I had a crazy dream last night and you were in it. Yea yea that's the one. Inly it's not.
Only mine will be more like- Do you like "Father Ted"? Have you ever been to Providence? Do you like carnivals? Have you ever been to a sideshow? What's your favorite Clash lyric? Do The Decemberists make you cry? What about Belle And Sebastian? Have you ever seen a Neil Jordan film? How about Atom Egoyan? Have you ever fallen in love in Amsterdam? Have you ever fallen in love with Amsterdam? Have you ever had a precognitive dream? Do you find yourself wondering how many people have sat where you're sitting now, and how many of their stories would you really like to know and how many of their stories would just bore you to tears? Do you find yourself easily addicted to foods like edamame? Do you see beauty and brilliance in things others find basic and boring? Do you like montage sequences? Must you have them with music or do you not have a preference? What did you think of the movie "Shortcuts"? Did you want to be a robot like Vicki in "Small Wonder"? Did you want to be a cat like garfield? Or perhaps a cheetah? Have you ever had fantasies about getting mauled to death? Did "The X-Files" bring you through your formative years? Did you pray every night even though you weren't taught there was a god? Did you cry more for your hamster's death than for your grandfather's? Did you ever wonder where those fantasies about being kidnapped came from? Did you ever want to live in a novel? Did you ever try to live in a novel? What would you do if I asked you these questions? Would you answer? Would you laugh, overwhelmed? Would you run away screaming? What would you do? Why can't I find out?
to break the embolus
I needed a fresh start, ok?
Today I am 24 and a half.
You can visit the old blog if you want.
