Kauai 2

It is still raining! I don't even care! It's a different kind of rain and it smells like angel feet!

Kauai'i

Not so bad, this...

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Hawaii

I don't have a boyfriend, so I'm enjoying it with IRON MAN. DUH NUH NUH NUH NUH NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NUH NAH NAH.

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Good News.

Guess who just booked her first SAG commercial?

THIS CLOWN.

I'm a gonna be on teeeeee veeeeeeee :)

Terror.

Funny or Die all over again. Tomorrow I'm doing a 60 second improv in nose for Annex Theatre's 60 Second Max. I haven't been in nose since school, and I'm only doing it because it scares the bajesus out of me. I was going to do something easy - a song, a monologue, run around and yell (usually works for me)... but it's time for an exercise in Dare to be Terrible. Chris talked me out of the easy route, and he's right. Am I a clown or not? They're not all going to be brilliant, and if you're going to fail, you may as well have a 60 second time limit. Fuck you, comfort zone, I do what I like.

Am I a clown, or not?

Dude.

Seriously facebook, we've talked about this. I've tried to laugh off the dating sites and constant photo reminders, but I'm pretty sure this is the last straw. Jerk.

Super Cupcake Justice League

"The Caffinator"

"The Slinger"

"Baker's Justice"

"Frosting Blade"

"The Hipster Defender"

"The Night Manager"

GIANT CAT EATS BALLARD

Dear god, hide the children!

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Facebook, you are a bad friend.

Here's a list of things facebook should change, because it's being a real dick.

We all know facebook specializes its ad content. I used to be annoyed by all the ads for bridal photography and engagement rings, but when I changed my status from 'in a relationship' to 'single' (which is a hellish week long emotional goddamned process) all the ads immediately (and visibly) turned over from engagements to dating sites. Cool. maybe they should also hire someone to come over and kick you right in the fucking teeth.

Lets talk about that status change for a second. It sucks. It hurts you, it hurts the other person in the relationship, and it creates a lot of drama nobody needs. Did you know that when you finally get brave drunk enough to change your status, a confirmation box pops up. It says ever so delicately:

"Your relationship with ___________ _____ will be terminated. [YES][NO]"

You sonofabitch, facebook. Somewhere there has to be a human being that chose the text for that screen. That person has no soul. I am sad for them.

Oh, and facebook. Those "Photo Memories" you pop up on the side panel are ever so thoughtful. Ah yes, all the trips we took together, oh! That show we did! It's nice that you want me to remember that today facebook. I so look forward to the day you prompt me to "reconnect" with him. Dislike.

Just Me and Coffee (In the Morning Again)

It's impossible for be to blog how I feel right now, I only know how to write what I want people to think I feel. Strong or whatever. I don't. I've been trying to write something about this since it happened.

Damnitt. I'm lost, I'm horrified, I still don't know what to do, and I don't feel any better.

Fuck.

I like things.

I like my new job. I like my apartment and my cat. I like drinking red wine out of the red wine glasses, and white wine out of the white wine glasses. I like knowing the difference. I like knowing the proper uses of grammatical phrases. I especially like good acting. I like it when things are tidy. I like baked goods. I like traveling alone. I like seeing movies alone. I like those things better with someone I love.

YAY The books from my Dell'Arte studies arrived!! For the curious The Use of the Self by FM Alexander , The Second Circle by Patsy Rodenberg, and I Heard God Laughing by the 14th century Iranian poet, Hafiz.

Where's Laviolette? I miss her scattered inner rumblings!

Well friends, I've kept all my rumblings on the outside lately, I'm WAY into second circle epic brain-wringing rehearsals for WONDERLAND. It's nice to be in a company where your input is so valued, but I'm WAY third circle ALL THE TIME. Makes for much draining/unprofitable introspection. We open Saturday. Do you live in Seattle? Come marvel at our wonderness, and place bets on whether or not my stilted, hoop skirted, tea-seeking ass topples into the locks and gets eaten by rabid* sea lions.

No really. There are sea lions. 3 of them. and yesterday an adorable harbour seal pup.

Rehearsals look like this:

*not really.

Reading Back

Funny - I was reading back over some of the blogs I wrote from school - during the very first performance lab, Ronlin told me I was being 'strident', and that that was never funny.

I thought I should mention that in the last few days of class, he had me develop a high status character (that red dress clown from the finals pictures) who screams for her staff and stomps around pouting.

stri·dent
Pronunciation: \ˈstrī-d^ənt\

Function: adjective

characterized by harsh, insistent, and discordant sound ; also : commanding attention by a loud or obtrusive quality


Just sayin'.

I have a hard time finding high status characters. I feel like to play high status in the clown realm, you have to say no a lot. No, I won't do that, no YOU shouldn't do that. It's really hard to find the delight. I got frustrated, I pouted, I was given a reference:
Oh Margaret Dumont. Could you ever take a pie. Turns out my work was to learn to take a fall. High status = bigger fall = bigger laughs. This is my work.

I was given more homework to watch - 2 women who can take a fall:

I could certainly find myself in worse company.

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig

Hello friends. Transition home has been hard, as I knew it would be. How to keep the work and the vitality and the lessons alive and growing back in my own little Ballard-Town home. But first, the sundries:

Chris moved out and headed to Edmonton yesterday morning. Good luck boys, and safe travels. I'm in the process of getting my home tidied. Poor little Milo just doesn't know WHAT to think. He seems to remember me now, and is a total whore for pats. He's a needly little fuzz bucket, but I love him. Poor little guy got his lower jaw caught in his collar, who knows how long he was like that (a plastic thread had wrapped around his tooth, ow) before Ian saved his little cat skull. Thanks again, Ian! Here is a dramatic re-enactment:

*Ow! My Skull!*

*we got this!*

*Thanks guys. Now I can bite things and you.*

Time to go babysit the child geniuses. More later today. Also, This guy was one of my teachers. Catch the awesome pratfall at the 2:20 mark.

Pictures from Finals

*do not feed the genius*

*Lauren Harries as: "Little Big Butt"

*clearly the best group*

final day

Clown Intensive 2010: "I've got splinters in my butt!"

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Sunday Brain Dump

What' I've learned is that it can't be learned from a book. It's constant practice and exhaustive exploration and discovery. The ghost sits in the corner and you have to beg it to come play, the muse. The clown.

What you can do is practice specific things. The pantomime, the specificity, the timing and rhythm.

That's why this is so scary. When you finally make it bloody and screaming to the top of the mountain of all the bullshit you ever made up, and every crappy thing you ever rationalized and open the fucking door, it's only you. Just you standing there. With your knees and your hair and your sad little smile.

I wanted to show up and magically be a genius, and GET it and give hope to the faculty for the future of clown, because that is how much I love it. But I opened the door on a bossy, desperate, sweaty B student with passion, baggage, weakness, walls, a shitty temper and a crappy alcohol tolerance.

All I can say is I'm learning to focus, and what is important.

And I'm scared, because my hands will never be Chris' and my face will never be Ronlin's. My feet will never be Bill Irwin's and I'll never have Skinner's perfect stillness. And that scares the bajesus out of me. But I do have what I have, in it's tiny, scattered, painful, choking, unfocused, unglamorous infancy. And I'll be goddamned if anyone can ever take that away from me again.

There's a history here. A brotherhood. It's something you have to give it's due.

Week Three

I'm tired. It's been a hard week. Another student went home. One girl cried until she threw up in class. I'm not building a clown yet because I haven't hit on anything for me. It's frustrating, and leaves me feeling terminally average, which was my worst fear of all. Lots of crying, lots of drinking on Friday night, a regrettable amount actually. Which made me feel like maybe not my very best person. Only a week left, I still don't have a clown, and I'm losing touch with what I've already gained. My body is giving out on me. I'm afraid my spirit is too.

I guess I just need some sleep.

clownfail 3: clown harder

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Sexo the Do-Me Clown got rejected too...

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Mmmmm, feelings!

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Second Failed Clown

It's a shame, I liked him. He got a "now I don't even know what you are! Go away!"

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Los Payasos Mendigos

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Clown Car Ctd.

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Clown Car II

to the river with wine and Chinese take-out!

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Perfornamce Lab II

Totally ate the second performance lab. It was a much more physical slapstick assignment. We practiced too much, and my body just gave out. I fell in the first 20 seconds and just could not hit any of my marks after that. We didn't get any notes. I'd rather get torn apart than just not mentioned.

So I drank the universe at the Mad River Tasting Room and the rest of the night was a write off.

I did my Daily Practice last night, and some truly atrocious fish flops that I filmed but they're not so much post-worthy. I'm so wiped, I don't know if I should be resting or conditioning for next week.

Today is Annie and Mary Day, a sort of founders day for Blue Lake - it's their 100th year and there's all sorts of festivities.

I'm tired. Nap time. Los Payasos Mendigos tonight. Yay.

like I said...

... shell shocked. Erica, Lauren, Alex and Chelsea eat and drink their feelings after Donlin's departure.

We figured out what hit us so hard. We'd all been holding on to a lot from the weeks prior and when he asked us if we were doing ok, all the dams broke.

"You can't do this movement like that. You can't do it correctly unless you love it."

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Shell Shock

The first of our number left us today, without a goodbye. This wasn't the work for him. It's part of their job here to make us vulnerable - open, and that's something different for everyone. Ronlin, the clown teacher brought our youngest member to the breaking point on monday - actually physically challenging him, It came to a fist fight - Ronlin slapping his face and challenging him to strike back. The Kid, afraid, played at fighting, afraid to truly strike the teacher. It came to blows, The Kid finally in his fear and rage striking Ronlin with a closed fist. Yes. They held the tension, then Ronlin shook his hand, they hugged. Everything now is about thresholds. Everyday, every moment there is a new one. People are breaking right and left.

Tonight was our last class with Donlin, and we were sad to see him go. He gave us so much in such a short time. Such beauty. Such power. Such demand. The class was divided - those brought to their knees, and those watching the clock dying to be released.

Donlin spoke of the work here as the last magic. the last art that can't be learned from a book or the internet, and the most powerful. He was right, and I cried.

As he moved about the class, demonstrating recieving an action in the chest without retreating, I watched what happened with the other students and knew I could do it. I wanted him to come to me so I could show him I understood, to receive his action. He came to me and touched my chest. I couldn't move. Frustrated, I only cried. I couldn't make it happen. I haven't found my starting point. I'm still trying too hard to please, to be correct.

I wish I could show you Donlin. Everything he does is beautiful. Not because he imbues it with beauty, but because it is simple, pure, authentic, and clear in intention.

I tried to tell him thank you, but of course, one can't.

life repair

the clownlings are becoming shell shocked.

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I just wanted to post something quickly before I cram some carbs in my face and go to rehearsal. Today we had our first day of Acro with the AMAZING and totally-want-to-have-a-beer-with-them Milo e Olivia. They look like this:

Milo says today in a very charming and Italian way:

"Try not to...how do you say in english? Not fart above your ass?"

I think he meant don't try to do things you haven't practiced. I think.

(PS I made some real strides in acro today, despite being injured this morning. Yay.)