United has Done It Again

Greetings from O'Hare Airport in lovely West Chicago. I am sitting in the terminal, waiting for a delayed flight on which I may or may not have a seat.

My flight from San Diego was delayed by 40 or so minutes due to weather issues in the Pacific Northwest. The psuedo-friendly man behind the counter there assured me that I would be able to make my flight in Chicago, as did the cheery, cheeky flight attendant once we sat down. They both told me to hussle myself to the gate; the plane had been notified of my late arrival and it would not be a problem.

Lies, all of them.

They buttered me up by upgrading me to Economy Plus, a crock of bull ploy to make you spend more money with the idea that you would have a better flying experience; a step down from business class, if you will. MY Economy Plus seat was in the front row of the plane, right next to the door. There was a draft at the door that nearly gave my feet frostbite, there was no place to store any of my bags because there was no seat in front of me (I did, I guess, have great leg room), and blankets were stored in the overhead cabin, and the service was no better there than all the way in the back of the plane.

Nice try.

Anyway, the advantage was that I got off the plane first and ran pell-mell down the B Concourse through the United underpass with those eerie neon lights and that annoying United music repeating itself indefinitely in a metallic sort of way, and pell-mell down the C Concourse. I got to the gate 12 minutes early.

They'd given away my seat and closed the doors. There were no more seats available on the flight. Sorry. They shouldn't have told you to run. We never hold flights for people; we're delayed all the time.

Yeah, maybe you ought to do something about that.

He puts me on a flight to Richmond, so I call Virginia Opera and they say they can't pick me up in Richmond because it's an hour away so I can't take the flight. I stand in line for an age, tasting blood in my mouth and wheezing from all the running, and talk to (I must say) a VERY friendly customer service agent who gives me a confirmed seat on a flight tomorrow afternoon but says if I want to fly out tonight I have to fly standby.

So that's where I am. My throat hurting, my feet hurting, screaming children sitting next to me, a lack of nutrients in my body, and no idea where in this huge city of an airport my checked luggage actually is. I'm hoping it's on this next flight to Norfolk.

Happy Holidays! In good news, I had a great holiday with John and we got some really great gifts. The pic is of Monty eyeing the wrapping paper with great suspicion. I was just joyous and am wearing a beautiful necklace to prove it.

Now if I could only get out of this blasted airport.

Merry Holidays!

Happy holidays to everyone, no matter what celebration you take part in. John and I are relaxing this Christmas Eve. I think we are both a little sad not to be back in the Midwest with our families, but, as you can see, our tree is full and we are looking forward to having a relaxing Christmas before I run off for a very long time.

I've always celebrated Christmas as a secular holiday. I was not raised with any particular religion and didn't really know the origin of Christmas (the story of Jesus and the Nativity) until I was well into my grammar school years. My grandmother always had a nativity set up under the tree with all of the animals and wise men and baby in a manger. When we went to Florida for the holidays, my brothers and I would play with it as we would any other set up; it was fun, we made the people talk to each other. It wasn't until much later that I understood why it was always there at Christmas time.


This picture is Stella and Monty staring at the tree. They've stayed away from it; we've been lucky. My mother's cat, Abigail, took down their 6 foot Christmas tree this year. I can't imagine. Our tree is a small table-top tree but these wily cats could still cause quite a mess if they really wanted to.


I've been prepping for Agrippina like mad. As you can see, Lucius is a big help in the process. He sits on the couch with me while I transfer one score's notes to the other and type up scene breakdowns, etc. He's a constant source of inspiration; my "mews" if you will (sorry...) . Monty sometimes joins him, but Lucius is the constant.

So, tonight John and I will play a game and watch a movie and open a present or two, we'll sleep in tomorrow, call our families and open gifts. It's a great time of year. I hope, whatever your traditions are, that you are enjoying a couple of relaxing days, you aren't stressing yourself out, and you have the opportunity to commune with those you really love. More soon from the Opera front!

Concert in North Park

The concert is over and done with; a HUGE weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. We had a small but incredibly appreciative crowd and I felt like the pieces went really well throughout the evening.

The photos were taken during rehearsals by Manuel Rotenberg. He came by to take shots as we were teching in the afternoon. I'm pleased with the photos. We had another photography during the concert; I'll post those when he develops them.

We opened the show with my solo called "What's In Store," a little political rant wherein, dressed as a janitor, I wadded up newspaper photos of various people who've done idiotic things in the course of history. It was a great release and great fun to put the piece together.

The second piece was my duet, "They'll Devour Me Too." My dancers, Kim Jensen and Molly Terbovich, did a beautiful job. They're in sweat pants in rehearsal, but are in little black shorts in their actual costume.

The last piece was a duet between myself and Dominica Savant-Bunch, a precocious six-year-old who played myself in the past. I was infinitely proud of how well she did on stage; she's beautiful and fearless and will grow into quite something in the next few years.

The two videos were huge hits as well. People had great things to say. I was a nervous wreck for weeks, but I'm really glad I went out and did it. This is my entire life. I wouldn't know what else to do with it.

Now it's Christmas and I have four days until I fly to the East Coast. I'm relishing every minute.

It's The Day of the Show Y'All!

I think Parker Posey's line in "Waiting for Guffman" always expressed preshow jitters best. Whenever I get to an opening night, it's the first thing I think of.

John and I spent our morning buying some cookie platters at Costco and a cash box at Office Depot, and then had a nice breakfast at Brian's counter. I needed big food this morning so I don't get hungry this afternoon. Costco is a nightmare no matter what kind of stress you've got going on, but I found it particularly heinous this morning. The platters look nice though so I'm happy about that.

We'll leave here with everything in about 45 minutes and then it's the point of no return (though I think I may have hit that quite some time ago). I'm looking forward to my next gigs because they don't involve me being in charge of any kind of marketing. I only have to think about the show. What luxury.

The pictures are of Lucius and Monty expressing their giddy excitement for their mom's concert. They are, quite obviously, my loudest cheering section: )

Publicity

That's John shooting in Budapest. Right now he's resting; he's smashed his thumb something terrible and the bruise is like nothing I've seen before on the palm of one's hand. Just as long as it's calmed down for the show..

Speaking of, calendars of all sorts came out today. I'm listed in Citybeat, North County Times and the Union/Tribune's Night & Day section. My New York friend, Brea Cali, has included me on her blog, and I'm shouting about it on this forum as well.

If you're in San Diego this weekend, come by the Arts & Entertainment Center (3026 University) at 7pm on December 17th (That's Sunday). Tickets are $12 ($10 if you're a student) and I'll be showing off three stage pieces and the two dance videos I've crowed about on this blog. The show should run about 45 minutes and there will be refreshments afterwards. It should be a great evening.

You can call 858-752-7560 to reserve tickets.

The Final Week

The picture is a screen grab from the climax of "Utazo (The Traveler)," my Hungarian dance-for-camera. The show is this Sunday and I am very, very ready for it to be here. Performing is one thing; choreographing is one thing; directing is one thing; but marketing and pushing for ticket sales, sending out press packets, etc, is a very hard, full-time job. I understand why so many small dance companies have trouble staying afloat when they are only one person trying to push their work and put butts in seats.

That being said, I'm finished with all of the pieces, done with costumes and am only looking for a couple of props. I had a rehearsal with my six-year-old today who asked me, "Why do we have to rehearse? Why can't we just DO the piece." I wish it could be so, but we're almost there, and rehearsals have been surprisingly easy-going and enjoyable despite my nerves.

Now people just need to show up and things will be all right. San Diego is a very last-minute city I've found. People don't like to commit to anything, they just show up. While this is fine most of the time - small performances don't sell out, it's nerve-wracking when you don't know if anyone will be at your show or not. I just want the assurance and have to learn to live with a certain amount of uncertainty.

Good news is that a dance company in Richmond, Virginia, Z Mullins Dance, is going to show "Utazo (The Traveler)" at their March concert. I am ecstatic to have my work shown on the East Coast. I'm hoping this might be just the beginning.

Other news...John and I finally became grown-ups together and bought a living room suite for each other for Christmas. It's a nice little set with dark wood arms and straight back, soft beige suede cushions, coffee table, end tables and a matching chair. It's funny what a high a big purchase can put you on. I walked out of the store hopping up and down and talking a mile a minute. The last time I did that was after I bought my laptop.

Christmas has actually been really fun this year. We put up a beautiful little tree and I got my shopping done early. Today I mailed out gifts to my new in-laws and I only have a few cards left to send. John and I were on a Christmas movie/Christmas music kick. We spent a marathon watching tongues on telephone poles, "You'll put your eye out," Cary Grant as an angel, Bishop's wives ice skating, George C. Scott yelling "Bah! Humbug!" and "God bless us every one..." We haven't seen the Grinch yet (the old, wonderful cartoon), or Rudolph or "It's a Wonderful Life..." there are a lot of good holiday films out there. "Elf" was the newest one in which we partook. As much as I don't want to like Will Ferrell in anything, I think he's charming, and Bob Newhart is a wonderful "Papa Elf."

John and I went to see The Roches sing a holiday concert with two friends the other night. These three sisters are incredible a cappella singers, their most famous holiday tune is a three-part arrangement of the Hallelujah Chorus. It's incredible. John came home and ordered their holiday album and it put us on a rash of Christmas songs. My two favorites are "Carol of the Bells" and "Sleigh Ride." John loves "Silver Bells" and "Fairytale of New York" by the Pogues. It's funny: I haven't a religious bone in my body but there's something about Christmas music in December that makes me giddy.

Right now? Watching SVU and sitting in betwen my cat and my husband. I only have two more weeks of these pleasures. I need to soak them up.

Mentioned in the News

Janice Steinberg wrote an interesting review of "One to Echo," the concert I went to last Friday, in the San Diego Union Tribune. Here is the link. The best part, selfishly, is that she mentioned me at the end of the review as a young choreographer who is showing her work in the next couple of weeks. There are a lot of us right now. She also mentioned Collette Harding, who is performing on December 9th, 4x4 (Liam Clancy's pet project at Bluefoot Bar that has various dance artists showing their stuff in a 4foot by 4foot space), and Sadie Weinberg, who is performing the Friday and Saturday of the weekend of my concert.

If you live in the area, you could enjoy a whole holiday month of emerging choreographers. It's nice to be recognized.

The photo? Jillian Chu by Elazar Harel. She's the force behind Bound Contemporary Dance, who curated "One to Echo." The pic was on all of the postcards.

Dance Weekend

John and I spent the whole weekend seeing and supporting dance. We haven't done that in a while and it was nice to take the time, get a little dressed up, and see what San Diego dancers are doing. We saw "One to Echo on Friday night, a curated show by Bound Contemporary Dance with A.S. Peterson Dance, Buffy Swallow, Amanda Waal and a video by Company of Strangers (edited my Monica Gillette, who was one of the dancers in Love and Murder lo those couple of years ago).

On Saturday we went to the Butterworth Dance fundraiser called "The Happening." They had a silent auction and performed a few of their pieces along with a piece by a new company called Tangocentric. John won me a beautiful brown beaded necklace to go with my new obsession with brown. I wore black for so long and it seems the tides are shifting. Don't know what that says about my emotional state, but it sure is spicing up my wardrobe.

We were supposed to see Allyson Green and Nadine George's site-specific work as well, but we got the dates mixed up and thought it was tonight instead of last night. I don't know what it is about John and I making plans together and our inability to properly read calendars; it only seems to happen when we're together. I was sad to miss the performance, but glad that I went to Butterworth, supported Molly Terbovich, who is one of my performers on the 17th, and ate some good grub.

Favorite moments of the two evenings? Amanda Waal, in a more extended version of a piece I saw during a "Ray at Night," rolling on her side and releasing a tiny red balloon into the air, her soul passing, and then later throwing lanky, fluid movement through a sound-score made up of different people discussing the last things they saw before they died. The three dancers in Alicia Peterson's piece finally coming together in a satisfying bit of unison after sitting in incongruous juxtaposition for so long. Monica Gillette's mad editing skills in making Hassan Christopher look as if he was doing one movement in three different places without stopping. (I've watched John put those moments together in the editing room; I know what kind of intuition that clarity takes). Jillian Chu's choreography. Period.

Twon's deep, M.C. voice. The fluidity and togetherness of Traves Butterworth's dancers, a lovely bit of dragon imagery in "Silk Road," Seeing Jessica Reed perform again. Getting caught by a board member as I stood guard over my necklace at the silent auction. BDC's espresso cake which was clearly fattening and decadent but impossible to walk away from.

Today John and I went into the studio to put the final touches on "Weiblich Ist?" and "Utazo (The Traveler)." We made several copies so we can send them out to a lot of people and hopefully get people watching. Going to concerts this weekend inspired me for my own, plus I got my first seat reservation yesterday and it made me feel like I wasn't doing all of this for absolutely nothing.

It's dry as a bone today with Santa Ana winds blowing, but my Christmas shopping is done and Lucius and Stella were sleeping together on the couch when I walked in so things are not all bad. Tonight I'm making quiche and we will watch a movie and enjoy being together; that's really what the holidays are all about.

As Traves Butterworth said last night, "Go support the arts this Christmas." We need it; it's every man for himself.

It's All About Who You Know..

Acutally...it's all about who knows you. And so, the publicity push for my concert begins. I've been putting hints in people's heads for some time now, but three days ago I sent out a mass email to 200 people in my acquaintence and yesterday I sent a press release to every newspaper and radio/tv station in town. I even sent a couple of personal emails to critics I know in hopes that they will be interested in coming and maybe writing a little something about what they see.

This is the part I have trouble reconciling with myself. I make work because I want people to see it, but I hate promoting myself. I feel somewhat selfish and overbearing when I encourage people to come to my concerts. It's ridiculous because it's the only way to get an audience, but I want people to come of their own volition, not just because they feel strong-armed.

But I bite the bullet and do it. I should be proud of my work and running around screaming it from the rooftops. In fact, if anyone reading this post is in the San Diego area, or has friends here, they should come see it too. It's December 17th at 7pm in North Park. A place called the Arts & Entertainment Center at 30th and University. I'll be there, John will be there, my three dancers will be there. As for the rest of the audience, it's anyone's guess.

It's a good show. I'm particularly proud of my second video, the one John and I just finished. It's well put together and I think Zach did an incredible job with the music. So much so that I want to hire him again for another video. We should make this a regular family affair.

So that's the show right now. Both videos are done, I'm still tinkering with some changes in "They'll Devour Me Too" but it's basically done, My six-year-old other and I have finished our duet, it's just the massive cleaning we're looking at now, and my solo is mentally understood, it just needs time in a physical space. I'm feeling confident in having a show prepared when I walk in the door on the 17th. Now it's just getting people there. I guess I'm not feeling too terrible about that either.

In other news, I'm almost done with my Christmas shopping. That is to say that my family is done and I have an idea in my head about what I want to do for John. I'm sending out a few cards this year but not nearly as many as other years. I must get working on those but hope to get them done over the weekend.

Leaving for Virginia is coming much quicker than I want it to. I've grown to like living at home (imagine that) and the thought of getting on one more airplane and thrusting myself into an unfamiliar place is a bit nerve-wracking. I've got all of my score materials, however, so at least I'm getting a jump on that.

Life is rushing along and me with it.

Hungary

This is me on the Danube. The bridge is called the Lanchid, which means "Chain Bridge." It's built by the same man who built the chain bridge across the Thames (Tierney, I think), and it is an incredible sight to behold. It was my first destination when I woke up on my first morning in Budapest. John left for the Opera Hotel and meetings about the Lizst project (which is why we were there in the first place) and I walked towards the Danube, which is called the Duna in Hungarian. The bridge connects Pest, the more modern, flat and cosmopolitan half of the city, with Buda, a Medieval, hilly section with a giant hill at the base of the bridge that holds Buda Palace, the Fisherman's Bastion and other incredible sights. It's one of the most beautiful skylines in all of Europe and I was blown backwards by it as I walked towards the sunny, dew-filled riverfront. It was the beginning of great things in terms of my little video. What an inspiring way to start.

This, on the other hand, is the last night we were there. John had more time off than we thought he would. It allowed us to shoot all over the city, take in the House of Terror (a chilling museum of the Soviet regime housed in the same building as the Nazi Party and, later, the Secret Police), wander through the Museum of Ethnography with its wonderful photo exhibit and beautiful national costumes, and see an opera at the most ornate opera house in which I've ever stepped foot. We saw "Figaro," which did not impress me as much as I'd hoped. The Cherubino was fantastic and the Susanna was a terrific actor, but the direction was stunted and the action often overplayed. It was an enjoyable evening nonetheless, and the Countess had a voice to die for.

It also allowed us to take our final evening and go to a local Balkan folk dance night at a youth center called Petofi Csarnok. It sits, monolithic, in the center of the city's woodland park, which is much like Central Park with a skating rink on a manmade lake and a big castle in the center, plus statuary everywhere you turn. We wandered through the darkened park to the Csarnok and were a bit dubious at first because the place seemed deserted. This was my only opportunity to shoot locals dancing so I was on the verge of being dissapointed until I got up my nerve to walk in the door and find the contact person I had been speaking with. He led me into a little dark room with a fantastic band and six young dancers who got together once a month to practice their dances while Pravo, the ensemble, played up a storm. They were dressed in everything from traditional dress to jeans and boots, and they pounded out the rhythms laughing while John and I shot. The director finally dragged me out on the floor as well, and John got footage of me doing some Balkan folk dancing. Something I never thought I'd do. The picture is before I was pulled onto the floor. The folk dancers are doing a fast circular dance and the band is jumping away in the back. I should folk dance all the time; it would be a great weight loss program. I've never been so tired and sore.

We shot some other locals too. This is a pic of John video taping a couple of Roma musicians in Vorosmarty square. We are standing right outside of Cafe Gerbaud, which is the most famous cafe in Budapest, known for its intense cafe culture. We had coffee and cake there later, but this morning we only had an hour before John ran off to do some location scouting. We came across these two, I dropped 200 forint (about a buck) into their hat, and they struck up a brilliant tune. My dancing to their playing is part of the opening to our video, which we titled "Utazo (The Traveler)."

This is John and I in front of the Fisherman's Bastion. This piece was built in the 19th century but looks much older. Right behind it is the Buda Hilton, which was built on some monestarial ruins. Sounds awful of them, but they've preserved much of the ruins in an outside area and you can walk through the walls and look at a statue of the more prominent monks. This may be my favorite view of the city, as the Bastion is right on the river and you can look across to Parliament and the Basilica rising up in Pest's flat landscape.

John and I had a terrific time. I would go back to Budapest in a heartbeat. The people were friendly, the coffee to die for and the scenery was heart wrenching. Hungary has a difficult history; much of the city of Budapest is new because it's been plundered so many times, sometimes by its own people. It's an interesting mix of Eastern and Western European ideals and, although the language is nearly impossible to speak and understand (I only conquered "Thank you," and for those who know me, you know that's not much), many young people and some older people speak enough English to get by. More popular is German, which can get you through the day nearly anywhere. Almost every restaurant had an English language menu, and absinthe is legal, though I never partook as I was dancing so much.

Click on the title of the post to go to my Flickr site. It has a bunch more pictures and descriptions. If you want to see the video, it's premiering at my concert on December 17th....yes, shameless plug, but that's why I journal on line anyway.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Just a brief note to say Happy Thanksgiving! Despite our travel day, I am very happy to be home and now getting ready for the holidays and my length of time away.

The picture is sunset over the Danube, with Buda castle and the Lanchid looming in the back. What an incredibly beautiful, friendly city. I could go there again and again.

John and I are spending the holiday alone. I am making leg of lamb and made a pumpkin pie last night. It'll be great to celebrate in our home. I hope everyone is having as lovely a day as I am.

More after food and sleeping...

United Airlines Sucks! And, How to Feel Like a Foreign Criminal in your Own Country

So we just got back from Budapest. An amazing city and one of the most beautiful city centers I've ever experienced. The Danube cuts right through the middle and the bridge-lined riverfront displays gorgeous architecture after architecture. John and I shot almost four hours worth of footage which I will comment on later, especially my experience with Petofi Csarnok and Balkan Folk Dance Night. You can see photos at my Flickr site with long descriptions. Click on the title of this post and it will take you to Flickr.

The nadir of the trip was both travel days. We flew United/Lufthansa and it was torturous. Granted, we didn't make the reservations, they were made by the man in charge of the film for whom John was scouting. As soon as we got the reservations several weeks before we left, we got on the horn and tried to get seating reservations. We were told then and when we went on line (where we couldn't even bring up the reservation despite the fact that it was in our name) that no seat assignments would be available until the day of travel. The people on the phone told us that no overseas flight ever gives seat assignments before the day of, which is a total lie. This is the 6th time I've traveled to Europe and the first time I've gone to the airport having no idea where I was sitting.

So, on both trips, our seats ended up being the last seats on the plane. On the way back, our flight from Washington Dulles to San Diego, we couldn't even get aisle seats, so we were in the aisle and center of the last seat on the plane. This was not for lack of trying. Trying not to get discouraged, we dutifully called from Hungary, went on line, and tried to go to a ticket office in Budapest. John ended up calling the United States from our SIM-card enhanced cell phone and they told him the same thing - no seat assignments will be given until you are at the airport.

Okay...this is where I get really pissed. We showed up at the airport at 5:30 in the morning the day we traveled home, and got our seat assignments for all of the flights. Like I said, our flight from Dulles gave us the worst possible seats on the plane. I ask, "is there anything else available?" The agent says, "No, these are the last two available seats. All the rest have been reserved."

My next logical quesion, "How is it that they've been reserved? We've told that we couldn't get seat reservations until we checked in at the airport and that flight is more than 18 hours away. Are you telling me that everyone but us has already checked in for the flight 18 hours ahead of time?"

She says, "No, these seats have been reserved beforehand."

And so we get into a circular argument here about who is lying to whom? How could they all be reserved beforehand if you can't get seats until you show up at the airport? We were told this on every flight we checked in for - everyone but us seemed to reserve beforehand. How are we the only ones unable to do this? I shouldn't have to pay the same amount of money for a ticket and be shoved in the back by the restrooms. The legroom in the back is not as good either, so John was stuffed into a seat with his knees pressed against the seat in front of him. United did nothing to help us and even seemed to intimate that it was our fault that we had such bad seats.

The flight to San Diego was particularly frustrating when the flight attendant actually admitted that they didn't have enough meals for sale to feed the last five rows of the airplane. How is that possible? Because we're in the last five rows, we are not entitled to eat? United doesn't seem to think so.

In conclusion of my flight experience, I have to say, DO NOT FLY UNITED! They are a shabby excuse for an airline with terrible customer service and circular logic in their answers that brings up constant inconsistencies. I am completely dissatisfied in every way and would gladly pay more money for an airline that will treat me with respect. This isn't the first time I've had problems with them, but these are definitely the most heinous.

That being said...the other heinous part of traveling these days is customs and security. I was treated with kindness and respect by all of the security and customs officials in Hungary and Germany. We get back to the United States, however, and I am suddenly thrust into a long, slow line and treated like a criminal in my own country. Dulles has no organization whatsoever. After passing through immigration, we were thrown into a hall to recheck our baggage. There were people packed wall-to-wall and screaming at you to stay in line (what line?). We couldn't get to the recheck spot they screamed at us to go to without cutting around people who had already dropped off their bags, and we were screamed at by another agent wearing sunglasses (??) as we tried to give him our bag. At that point we waited over half an hour to get through two operating security tables with no line up to the front, everyone just shoving and squeezing through the crowds. TSA agents were screaming at us in some sort of half-English pidgin slang and shoving us into various lines as we got within spitting distance of the conveyor belts. People were crying and hyperventilating and I kept thinking that I had an easier time at customs when I flew into Mexico.

It's a hideous experience and a true equalizer as the ladies who lunch in their pearls and heels were in the same shoving, heaving, sweaty line as poor college students who spent the whole fall backpacking through Europe. All of us equally pissed off.

We got to the gate just as it was boarding and we were spitting at each other and stinky and tired and wholly unhappy. Nothing like reentering your own country to make any sort of travel wholly undesireable. We should have stayed in Europe.

And that's my diatribe. We reallyl did have a lovely time. I will recount it later, but I had to get this off my chest first.

The Eve Before the Trip

We leave tomorrow morning. We fly to Dulles then Frankfurt and finally to Budapest. Everything seems to be ready. I spent the whole day on line trying to put together a list of addresses for cultural facilities that might let me shoot on their property. I've only heard from one of them, who has invited me to a Balkan folk dance party on the 20th. Should be interesting no matter what happens.

We had a bit of a setback this morning. John called me to tell me that our hotel had not been secured. We thought it was taken care of but apparently not. He went on line at work and searched around for something affordable. We settled on the Hotel Pest, which is pictured here. It's a 3-star in an 18th century building with terrific reviews on line. I hope it lives up to its reputation. The best part is its location. It's right next to the Opera House and very close to the Lizst Academy of Music. Nothing like being in the middle of it all to inspire my shooting schedule.

Last night John and I went to see Pink Martini - Finally!! We tried to go when they were at Humphreys this summer but I got called away to work at Glimmerglass in New York and we ended up eating the tickets. Last night they were at 4th and B, which is a far inferior venue, but the band was still amazing. Check out the link if you haven't heard of them. They're from Portland, Oregon, and I discovered them about seven years ago when "Sympathique," their first album, was brand new. They do global lounge music. Bachelor pad favorites in Portugese, Italian, Japanese, French and even English. They have a great version of "Brazil," and "Bolero," and an incredibly creepy version of "Que Sera Sera."

There are twelve of them, with a great torch singer, China Forbes, along with piano, full drums, trombone, trumpet and a cross section of strings. All of them incredibly accomplished. I was especially enamored of one of Paloma Griffin, one of the violinists, who sat in the very front a bit stony-faced but passionate in her movements as she drew her bow across the violin. I enjoyed every minute of their playing and banter and wished there was a dance floor available. John says he doesn't dance, but I think if I can just get him out there...

The crap part was the venue. The people running the gig were loud and rude and seemd to think we were all teens at a rock concert instead of 30, 40 and 50-somethings at a big band performance. They stopped an incredible tango couple (and were admonished by the band for doing so) and spoke at full voice, yelling across the room, at extremely quiet times in the performance. The drinks were massively over priced, they didn't have a good liquor stock ("DiSarrono on the rocks, Oh, you don't have Amaretto...um, Kahlua and Cream, oh, no Kahlua?"), and they served everything in little plastic cups - even martinis. All through a beautiful Japanese song there were terrible noises and scraping sounds from the lobby and none of the people running the venue seemed to care. I was somewhat appalled. Pink Martini deserved better.

I hope they'll be back and in a venue more appropriate for the type of show they present.

And so, it was a night of fun and today was packing and running last minute errands. Tomorrow is getting on a plane over and over again and the next day will be running around Budapest. It's all up in the air - I have no idea what this experience will bring. It's terribly exciting and makes me a bit anxious, but I'm sure things will calm once I get there.

I'll let you know.

Feeling Better Today

This picture is of my neice, Elsa, showing me how well she spins in the living room of my parent's home in Missouri. I've been thinking a lot about my neice and nephew and how far away John and I are from them. The holidays always bring up issues of family and right now I am missing all of these people I love.

I think this bit of homesickness has been part of my problem lately. I've been in a funk, as was demonstrated by my blog entry yesterday. I'm feeling a lot better today. I took a three-mile walk and got a blended mocha at this amazing coffee shop called "Mystic Mocha" in North Park, and dropped off some more postcards and, well, ultimately revved up enough endorphins to keep me out of this funk I've been in for the last week.

I think I'm on the brink right now of a lot of things. The brink of this trip to Hungary, the brink of the holidays, the brink of me leaving for almost five months, always the brink of insanity methinks. It puts me on an edge I don't particularly care for and now I'm trying to figure out how to back up.

There are people moving into the house next door. The moving van has been out front all day and I hear noises like vacuum cleaners and electric drills and tiny shouts and sometimes laughter coming from inside the walls. John and I have discussed buying a house but it's a near impossibility for artists in the land of Southern California. What an exciting time it must be for them, but I imagine, as I would be, they are also stressing about being able to keep their finances in order and their house from falling apart. It's one of those future things that I want and don't want all at the same time.

My three cats have all been really ornery with each other lately. Lucius had a huge, bleeding scratch across his face the other morning and I've been periodically hearing screeches and growls coming from the other two as they swipe at each other an jump on the other from behind. The weather isn't nearly as hot as it was and John and I have been in good spirits with each other (despite my bit of funk) so I'm not exactly sure what's going on with them. I don't recommend three cats. There was nothing John or I could do about it as we love all three of our little quadrupeds dearly and had to force them together when we moved into the same abode, but the work load increases ten-fold when you put three of them together. My cat is particularly difficult. It's too bad he's so sweet and utterly cuddly.

I'm leaving in about half an hour to go rehearse with my six-year-old performer. She has very distinct ideas about this piece the two of us are putting together and the whole process has been a huge lesson in compromise for me. I want her to be in on the creation process but we rarely see eye-to-eye about what the piece is actually about. I thought it was going to be a conversation between me and my younger self, but it's become more of a battle of wills between a type-A of my generation and a type-A of hers. The girl's got a mind like a steel trap and a sharper tounge than I ever had at her age. I admire her spunk, and it's been a huge learning process for me. I'm interested to see what we ultimately come up with.

Life never ceases to amaze me.

Video Stills and Papering the Town

John gave me a CD of screen grabs from "Weiblich Ist?" They're always the best publicity photos for a video because they're photos that come directly from the edited piece. Here are a couple that show me on opposite sides of the gender spectrum. Scares me a bit that I look just like my brothers in the tux. People always said that my parents looked alike, and they passed on those similar genes. All four of us look like clones.

I spent the whole afternoon dropping postcards off at various coffee shops and bookstores around town. Actually, the first part of the afternoon was spent driving up to Encinitas to pick up a paycheck I have been owed for a very long time for my work at Canyon Crest. I'm not a fan of dealing with beauracracies, and this one has given me nothing but headaches. Suffice to say, it has ultimately cost me about $80 to get paid by the school district.

After that I papered the town. Not my favorite job, but it's a good feeling that people will walk into so many different places of business and see my postcard there. I hope it will drum up a few ticket sales, but I really have no idea what will make people want to come to my show. I certainly hope I can put butts in all 120 of those seats. What a nerve-wracking thing.

Tonight is a meet and greet with a man who does an arts radio show. I'll take some postcards there too. I think I'm pretty good at schmoozing, and it's important to get the word out, but it wears me down. I just want to sleep.

Well, Holy Crap!

Bush Takes Blame for GOP Election Losses

On CNN. My favorite quote:

"The message yesterday was clear: The American people want their leaders in Washington to set aside partisan differences, conduct ourselves in an ethical manner and work together to address the challenges facing our nation," Bush said.

All those things we learned in kindergarten: cooperation, following rules, acting ethically, learning to get along...it took him a while to stop stamping his feet and jutting out his lower lip, but it's good to see our president trying to act like a big boy.

Also...no more Donald Rumsfeld. Woo-Hoo!!

So now it's just up to Virginia...I've got fingers tightly crossed. Maybe we can actually see some real checks and balances in these last couple of years. A congress led by the Democrats will at least make the time leading up to 2008 a bit more bearable (please?)

Election Day Musings

We are in the midst of a knee-sweat inducing Santa Ana, and yet I put on my lightest summer clothing and walked up the street to Alice Kirby Elementary, my polling place, thinking that I would have to stand in line and would find myself sweating in places without sweat glands as the school is unairconditioned.

I was the only one there.

My electronic voting booth was broken the first time. I'd stick the voter card in the slot and my ballot was immediately cancelled three times. Ten minutes it took me to figure out how to get the thing to stick (after finally switching booths).

I was still the only one there.

Went through the countless elected representative and judicial nominees, the umpteen propositions set before California voters today, made sure I was answering each one exactly how I wanted. Mused at the fact that the whole thing was really quite easy after the whole broken booth thing was taken care of. Watched my voter tape roll through the system with my picks easily recognizeable. Still not one hundred percent about the voting machines, but much happier since I got to see my answers roll by instead of letting them disappear into the bowels of the computer without me being able to check them. That was seven or eight minutes. Turned around to grab my "I voted" sticker.

I was still the only one there.

Walked out the door into the blinding, arid sunlight; the palm trees offering no respite in shade, the asphalt steaming, my sunglasses not doing enough to keep me from squinting. No one was around; no one was walking up to the door, no one was parking their car.

I think I am the only person in University Heights who voted today.

Got home and had an email from my friend, Lynne. Her husband is from North Africa. This was his first election as a citizen of the United States. He finally got to vote for the first time in his life. She had attached a great shot of him outside the polling place, pointing jubilantly at his "I Voted" sticker, looking like he might be saving the world. How wonderful to have that kind of enthusiasm for a practice that so many Americans consider a burden, or are too cynical to deal with. So many would rather watch the shitheads take office so that they have something to perpetually complain about Do they not understand that they might not have to bitch if they actually did their civic duty?

Everyone should have a chat with someone like my friend's husband. For him this is a new and grand experience - to have a say in what our government does. We have no idea how lucky we are.

Forward . . . In Time

So I'm looking ahead to this upcoming concert. It's funny how things seem so very far away on Thursday, and then a certain Monday rolls around and you can see the avalanche barreling towards you. My calendar doesn't look full but I feel it in my veins, that adrenalin rush around the corner as I start to prepare for December.

Brecht closed this weekend. It was a joyous occasion for all and I was especially joyous to finish up there and walk away for a while. The final performance was sheer perfection after a rough matinee that afternoon. It's so terrific to see a group of teenagers in rare form - they were nervous but cool, wandering off on their own, going over lines, breathing together in a circle before filing downstairs to the theater. Several days ago, on opening night, I introduced them to a theater tradition passed on to me by Mary Rotella. We played the hokey-pokey before stepping onstage. I don't know what it is about that ridiculous song that brings a cast together, but it works every time. We picked four body parts before each show. Everyone's favorite (especially if you're 15) is hips. Most memorable was the afternoon performance when the dressing room was moved into the smallest room in creation and we stood outside in the hallway and whispered the song so the approaching audience wouldn't hear it shouted from above.

I received fond gifts from my students. Cards, a gift certificate (!!) and a bottle of wine called "The 7 Deadly Zins" ("very funny...you didn't purchase this yourselves now did you?"), and fought back a little well-up as I watched them slip into the backstage area before we started. I was reminded of my college years performing in an ill-conceived black box, where the performers would enter the stage area from behind the audience AFTER the house lights had gone down. All holding hands, we would be led onto the stage and into the wings by a stage manager with a blue-tinted flashlight. The blue lights backstage always give me a twinge in the stomach...nerves from a bygone era in my life.

So, that's over. I am left with some great pictures, and a downward pointing directional sign that simply says, "Hell," a part of the set from our "Anger" section. Haven't decided where in my house it goes best yet.

The picture is, of course, the back of my postcard. It's a self-portrait, taken at my parent's house a year and a half ago. I'm not ready for the show to go up yet, but John is helping and I think I'll be there in a month. I still have to travel to Hungary, shoot a dance video, finish choreographing a solo piece to Johnny Cash, solidify my piece with a 6-year-old spitfire, and make some changes with my duet. It's a lot, and I am being brought back to my work with Cerulean in Chicago, lo those many years ago, when I ran around town with my friend, Lynne, printing off tickets, sending out press packets, calling newspapers, shoving postcards in people's faces and hoping beyond hope that I got everything done, that I did everything I could to promote.

And so I am promoting here as well. If you're in the San Diego area, come see it!!! The website is linked at the right. I can't verify that you'll like it, but I can verify that I put everything I had into it. It's the only way I know how to work.

Off that subject . . . in other news, election day is tomorrow and I'm still not sure what I want to do about most of these propositions and some of the people I'm supposed to vote for or against. There's too much on the ballot for me to possibly take in properly and I always get into the little cubicle and have a brief moment of "Oh, the hell with it!" before I settle in and take it seriously. I wish I really felt like I made a difference.

It's hot as Hades here and I find myself longing for a real fall and winter. I think I'm truly a Northern girl at heart (as John is a Northern boy). Every time we get Santa Ana winds here I get stopped up and miserable and feel like punching anyone who gets in my way.

John and I have been pricing pet steps to put by our bed so Lucius, my middle aged, somewhat crippled cat, can get up on the bed (and off the bed) without seriously injuring himself. Expensive little buggers those stairs. How can a square of foam cost $140?? I am baffled at how much we spend to make these little quadrupeds happy (while causing myself oodles of sticker shock and stress).

That's all for the moment. More shameless plugs and inconsequential musings later....

Wal-Mart Thinks Bin Laden has been Delivering their Chips

So, this poor Argentinian man, Oscar Brufani, makes his living delivering potato chips to markets around Argentina. His biggest customer was Wal-Mart until a couple of years ago, when he showed up to deliver and the following happened:

"Brufani already noticed the two men in suits when he was unloading his crates: They were staring at him. They eyeballed him, whispered to each other, looked at him again. Then they went to the store manager's office.

"You can't work here anymore. Orders from upstairs," the store manager said when she finally arrived at the car park, Brufani remembers. He asked whether he had done anything wrong, and she told him no -- the problem was his beard. "The controllers think you look like Osama bin Laden. If you appear on any of the images recorded by the security cameras, I'll lose my job."

Those North Americans are nuts, Brufani thought to himself. Do they really think bin Laden would spend his time delivering chips to a Wal-Mart store in La Plata?"

What the hell is wrong with people in our country? The man wears a beard because he likes it. Hell, my father wore a full beard for years and years, would he be banned from work today because he looked too much like a terrorist mastermind? Fear has taken over. Bush has perpetuated it. And that, more than anything else people are doing, is helping the terrorists at their work. He has helped the terrorists achieve exactly what they wanted - making our entire country break down its freedoms because we are "terrified" of what will happen if we maintain our way of life.

Read the full article by clicking on the link below.

Brecht Opens Tomorrow

...thank heavens!

We had our final dress rehearsal tonight. It's a short piece so we had the chance to run it twice. These kids have worked really hard. I was looking back at old rehearsal pictures and realized what a long way we've come from that first rehearsal with a golf cart sitting in our rehearsal space and some of the worst French pronunciation I've yet encountered.

We've gone from sloppy shapes to beautiful angles with my three students stuck behind a scrim for most of the show. I have a student who slithers artfully across a piano, one who kicks over a chair with incredible verve, another who, after much coaxing, singles out audience members to tell them how much better she is than them, and a young piano player who blows me away every time he touches the keys.

I can't say that this has been a stress-free love fest. High school shows are difficult because they lack the support of a professional theater. No matter how much I'd like to say otherwise, I produced this show nearly on my own. I fought with space problems, a missing costumer, no funds, no stock, and a fire alarm that kept going off in rehearsal after rehearsal. Everything that professional actors know instinctively has to be explained in great detail in a high school rehearsal, and never assume that anyone will remember anything I say. However, I will walk away from this feeling like I've given these kids something to think about, and maybe I've inspired one or two of them to do their own work...

It's been a learning experience for all of us.
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This is day one or two of rehearsal. The first time we worked as a full group in the cabaret set up. The first rehearsal they all learned how to play blackjack. I think they are showing off their new-found skills here.

The first time we put together the Pride tableau. This is one of my favorite moments in the piece.

The Pride Tableau in a cueing session. The lights are the essence of the piece. They train the audience where to look. The addition of the scrim changed how all of the students responded to each other on stage. It was a riot watching the tech crew load that thing out of the scene shop and bring it over to our little neck of the woods.

This is the climax of the piece in full costume. Anna's revelation, I call it.

Here we see the cabaret moments come to fruition. Still playing blackjack, but finally looking the part. It's only missing a little smoke and some whiskey bottles, but we joke that it's a smoke-free, juice bar cabaret. They're all the rage in Berlin.

My amazing family in their silhouette corner. They worked so incredibly hard to achieve these gorgeous tableaus and I am amazed at the results. I could watch them all day.

The cut out in the letter was my student's idea. As soon as they realized how much they could contribute, the ideas started pouring out. Much of the design of the show was put together by brainstorming with these kids. I love being able to say that the show is as much theirs as it is mine.

I give all of my shows as gifts to my performers. Sometimes I get something back in return.

And How!

John and I worked all weekend on "Weiblich Ist?" Our little dance film - six minutes long. The image is the logo for our new little production company. I think it will have my voice saying "And How!" like the little girl in the old Shake and Bake commercials. I wish the company actually brought in money to pay for these films, but I guess we can't have everything.

It's great to work on little pieces with my husband. It's unbelievable how quickly he cuts together all of the pieces to make a cohesive whole. We have a montage in the middle of the piece that seemed to fall together by itself, but I know it took his honed skills to make it happen. We make a good team.

Brecht opens on Thursday. Tomorrow is a cue-to-cue, and I worry that we aren't ready. The kids actually had a pretty good run on Friday, but we are still missing some props and some of these changes are still pretty rough, and I know the five in the ensemble are really stressing about their cabaret songs, though they shouldn't. I'm really impressed with how those came together. We have this amazing, mop-headed piano player who talks each of the kids through their music and suddenly they have this instant cohesion with the music.

I didn't really work on anything pertaining to Brecht Project this weekend. I needed a respite. Actually, that's a lie. I went to Nordstrom Rack yesterday to look for the infamous thirties-esque shirts for my two main characters. I think I found something, but it wasn't a picnic. There was a tour group from Arizona shopping there - not to mention that Mission Valley is a heinous place to be on the weekend anyway. Nordstrom's was packed and I stood in line for what seemed like hours, shifting from foot to foot with my arms laden with bad looking shirts in colors I would never dream of wearing, while college kids from Arizona yelled into their cell phones all around me.

Anyway, I laid off the rest of the weekend and John and I spent time at the editing trailer, drinking copious amounts of coffee and laughing a lot. We also ate a late breakfast at Brian's American Eatery (Brian's Big Gay Eatery, as some people call it), watched "Zelig" and "Shadow of a Doubt" last night, and actually read books that didn't pertain to our work. "Zelig" was actually extremely funny. I never realized how well Woody Allen and Mia Farrow fit into the '20's era. Mia Farrow especially; she looked amazing as the demure pschyanalyst. The whole film is pretty genius. Woody Allen slipped himself into real footage from the time period way before "Forrest Gump" came out, and I think he did a much better job of it. There's one moment when he's trying to get Mia's attention from the podium where Hitler is giving a speech that is seamless and hysterical.

I also got started on both stage works for my concert. It was great to see Molly and Kim again, as we struggled through remembering "They'll Devour Me Too." It always amazes me how we can't talk through old choreography, but put the music on and we just start doing the steps. Our muscles have an incredible memory. The hard part will be trying to change some of the choreography and retraining our muscles to understand it. Muscle memory doesn't often like change.

A Job Here...A Job There

This is the iffy black box that I am tyring to present "The Brecht Project" in at Canyon Crest Academy. The kids and I step inside this hole for several hours every afternoon. They work hard, the kids, but putting this show up by myself has not been an easy task. Right now I'm trying to put together costumes. We don't have the money to truly go period, so we are trying to hint at the 30's while pulling things off the rack at AmVets and Salvation Army. The piece has also become a pretty prop heavy show. I didn't start off thinking that it would be, but as these kids keep working and suggesting, I find that every day we are continuously adding things to enhance. My poor A.D., who will unknowingly be in charge of preset, has her work cut out for her.

Yesterday was our last rehearsal without our amazing piano player. He's fifteen or sixteen years old and can pound out anything you ask for. I call the piano man "the heart of the piece" in the script, and he has proved himself to be just that. I'm excited to see what happens as we slowly get the set and costumes together. We open in a week.

I also just finished a video shoot for a little piece called "Weiblich Ist?" I wrote it and John and I shot it and John will edit it. The premise of the piece is a woman who is trying desperately to dress like her true self. She goes from a full ball gown to a full tuxedo and everything in between. Ultimately, she walks out the door in jeans and a t-shirt. KInd of like me.

We shot it in one day. It was a long, long day. I ended up exhausted and needed a day to decompress the next morning, but I think we were all satisfied with what we got. My friend, Cynthia, came along and helped me get dressed and undressed throughout the day. I love sets where we all get along - where we laugh constantly. I think there were only two or three times where there was any tension at all.

The piece premieres on December 17th at my concert, ". . .In Time" at the Arts & Entertainment Center in North Park. I'm shooting a little video in Budapest in a couple of weeks too. The Brecht piece goes up next week at Canyon Crest. These kids are pretty fantastic. I wish all of this work didn't wear me out the way it does.

Party at Keturah's House

John and I had our San Diego wedding reception over the weekend. There were about sixty people (7 or 8 of them rugrats) running around our little apartment, eating food I made and gulping down the Guinness. John included. I was over-ambitious with the menu. I was trying to make as much Irish pub food as I could muster, but around 6:15, people started piling in the door and I was there, standing helpless and spatula-clad by the stove, trying to fry camembert while everyone was hugging me and handing me wine and champagne. I hated being torn between finishing my menu and greeting my guests, so I finally popped the Shepherd's Pie in the oven and walked into the living room to mingle.

I had one little girl who kept sending me presents through my mail shoot, a couple of kids who were addicted to the Dubliner cheese I'd put out, and a whole group of people in the front room who make me smile constantly. It was great for us to be surrounded by so many people we care about. I stress myself out too much about throwing parties when it's really all about sharing a drink with friends.

John's coworkers delivered a couple of beautiful toasts to us, and John's friends in Los Angeles had an incredible bouquet of lilies delivered. It's nice to be appreciated and loved.

So, we had that nice weekend and now we're both in the middle of project after project after project. I've got high school kids working on Brecht, a dance video we're shooting this weekend and we're still looking for a full-length freestanding mirror and the rights to the music, a trip to Hungary coming up and cats who can't seem to do anything but make messes wherever we look.

Life is constant. I guess I just wish I could have a couple of days without anything now...the grass is always greener. If I wasn't working I'd be chomping at the bit to get a project started.

By the way, that's John downing his Guinness. Thank god for the small moments of joy we get spiked with every day.

Bad Memories

This news about a plane crash just broke on CNN.

Apparently a small aircraft crashed into a residential high rise on the Upper East Side in New York. No one knows where the airplane came from; it wasn't being tracked. There's very little information about what happened or is happening thus far.

Smaller scale or not, it brings up bad memories from several years ago. That immediate feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach.

I have too many friends in New York.

Random Bits on Columbus Day

Today I left the house to run errands and quickly realized three things: the bank isn't open so I can't deposit any checks, the post office isn't open so I can't overnight a package to my brother, and everyone who works at the bank and post office plus a ton of other people who work god knows where are at the party store shopping for Halloween costumes. Sometimes my timing can be really off. With most of errands unaccomplishable on a bank holiday, and my nerves shot after trying to buy party napkins and plastic champagne glasses while being surrounded by fake cobwebs and screaming witches, I retired to Borders Books for a tea and a glance through the magazines that people had left on my table.

Transitioning back into reality after a vacation is tougher than I remembered. I haven't truly vacationed in so long. I come back into the country only to realize that Republican senators have been making advances on under age boys and Asian despots are testing their nuclear abilities and our country's still being run by a moron...that was nice to forget for a little bit actually. I also just read today that the Army is only meeting its recruitment quota right now because they've lowered their aptitude standards for entrants. Perhaps they think if their grunts are stupid enough, they won't realize what a shit-hole they're stepping into as they step off the planes in the Middle East.

Anyway...I actually went to Borders to pick up a German newspaper to use with my actors this afternoon. I thought Borders used to have this huge wall filled with papers from all over the place and now I couldn't find a single newspaper in the entire store. What happened to that? I couldn't find an Audition News or a Backstage West either. 'Twas very frustrating and I was left reading Real Simple and Esquire, a discordant grouping of magazines sitting on my little table.

I had my first rehearsal for "The Brecht Project" this afternoon. I have a great group of students in this piece. The theater, however, was completely empty save a golf cart when I walked in the door. I had no idea how to proceed with no chairs and tables or ANYTHING to double as a prop or set piece. There weren't even rehearsal cubes. It's crazy to start so completely from scratch; I haven't worked on something that required this type of dealings in quite some time. Opera is so different in its ability to provide immediately. I'm hoping by the end of the week we'll have a good group of stuff to deal with and move around so the kids can start understanding the rhythm of the piece.

My cat has decided he hates the litter box again. John and I don't exactly know what to do. We've moved the litter box to a new location (the one he seems to prefer right now) to see if it is a locational problem, but if it isn't then we're sort of stuck. I love Lucius to death, but he seems to everything he can to make our lives difficult. He sits on his purple pillow on the couch with those big eyes and little white puffy face and I can't help but fall all over myself to help him out, then he walks in his room and poops on the floor. Impossible.

I guess that's it for now. Things are falling back into the swing. Someone asked me the other day if I felt any different now that I'm married and I really don't. It just seems like us, the way we're supposed to be. We grilled tonight and ate dinner together like we always do and the day-to-day stuff continues in this fashion. I love every minute of it.

The pic is of the two of us on the Doolin Pier, looking out over the Atlantic Ocean. The sea was wild that day, the wind cold and blustery. The waves were taller than we were. It was a glorious time to be out on the edge of the world.

And Two Small Tidbits from Cashel, Ireland

And, because I can't resist, here are a couple of my favorite shots from Ireland. We took about 400 pictures over there so I'm just beginning to sort them out, but the Rock of Cashel and the nearby Bru Boru Cultural Center in Cashel, County Tipperary was one of my favorite spots. This first shot is of John lounging on a bench just outside of the Rock of Cashel, a huge 13th Century ruin on top of a giant hill. I think there may even be a hint of a smile on his face.

This shot is of John's favorite statue outside of the Bru Boru Cultural Center that he's named "The Blissed-Out Dancers." They looked so happy and limber that I decided to join in for a snapshot. I wish my legs were that long.

I promise not to bore with too many more of these. I'll be setting up a Flickr account soon and you can leaf through at your leisure.

More ranting and musing soon.

Scenes From a Wedding

We're Back! It's been two wonderful weeks in Chicago and Ireland and here I am, back at home and ready to start up again with life.

Much more to come, but here are a few snaps from the wedding taken by John's sister, Patricia. My brother took professional shots, which will be up soon.

The first couple are during the ceremony. We were praying so hard that the rain would stay away through the vows, and our concentrated thought worked. We had a dramatic background for pictures and it started into a torrential downpour the moment we entered the restaurant!




Elsa, my adorable niece, got ahold of my bouquet. She is quite the ham. Takes after her aunt. This is the first full family photo we've had in six years. It was quite a gift for my parents to make that happen.

Sideways

Not really sure why the photograph below decided to present itself sideways. Can't seem to correct it, so there you go. We'll all just have to crane our necks a bit.

Perhaps it's fitting in some strange way..

Looking Forward

This is me, taken by John, standing at the meeting place for my site-specific tour approximately 15 minutes before I led a huge group of parents through the Canyon Crest grounds. I was a bit nervous that parents wouldn't find the meeting place; it wasn't outside of a theater, it wasn't in an easily recognized entrance, yet it was a great place to start because the breezeway behind me opened up into a huge plaza that spoke architectural movement. Behind me sat 8 students, poised and ready to begin their sound/movement vignette as soon as the gates opened and I led the crowd inside.

I was infinitely proud of my students on Saturday. They worked hard, developed pieces that truly demonstrated a comprehension of the concepts I taught, worked easily together without descending into chit-chat and laziness. I led around 70 people through the 40 minute tour, which ended with all 33 students making their way through the halls and staircases into one huge group in the middle of the plaza. Parents were ecstatic, singing praise and grinning with cameras held high. It's a terrific sense of accomplishment to see parents impressed by what you've passed on to their children.

It was my final moment before a two week respite to marry and be a tourist.

Yesterday and the day before was all about getting ready and attempting to relax about the air travel, the wedding logistics, the family dynamic. I painted my nails and read my book in between packing, laundering and fretting. We are finally down to the final moments and I feel like I've prepared well. So much more relaxed than yesterday; yesterday afternoon was moments of panic attack and feeling like everything in my head was exploding. Sometimes I feel like I'm struggling to pull my life together every moment, and then I come to my senses in one fell swoop.

Today was better. My floors are clean. My cats are fed. There's a pizza winging its way to us. Thank god for the small things.

On Site

Today is the presentation of this huge site specific work we've been leading up to in my movement workshop these past couple of weeks. I tend to do this to myself a lot: create these hugely ambitious projects and then fret as the end rears it's head that I won't be able to pull them off.

This one, however, is up to the students. I've looked over my paperwork, my graphs of which students can go where, how many can work at each station of the tour. I'm leading the audience on a tour of the school and students will be in various nooks and crannies showing off their new movement skills. As we pass by, they must run the opposite direction and stay out of sight in order to get to their next station. Sound confusing? It's been a huge headache to figure out the logistics, and in a few hours my work will be tested and we'll see if I did all of these math problems correctly.

I love putting together huge pieces like this, despite my griping. There's something wholly satisfying about orchestrating a gigantic piece of movement and then, like a clockmaker, stepping back and watching it tick. The nerves come in the actual planning stage. Once these kids get working on their pieces, I'll be better equipped to deal with my adrenalin.

I leave for Chicago and my wedding in four days. It really can't come soon enough - nor can Ireland, though I look at all of those hurricane models in the Atlantic and wonder if their Northern path won't impede our travels a bit. I hope they can all dissipate before we embark across the ocean.

Truer Words

John sent me this op-ed piece by Richard Cohen about what we've learned in the five years since the 9/11 attacks. I think it rings true. I couldn't help, yesterday, but stand in the middle of all the memorializing and look back on the past five political years in utter dissapointment. A taste:

It is not merely that bin Laden has not been captured or killed and that videotapes keep coming out of his hideout like taunts. It is, rather, that his initial strategy has borne fruit. It was always his intention to draw the Americans into Afghanistan, where, as had been done to the Soviets, they could be mauled by the fierce mujaheddin. He tried and failed when he blew up the USS Cole off Aden at 11:15 a.m. on Oct. 12, 2000, killing 17 sailors and crippling the ship. But he succeeded beyond his wildest expectations when the United States responded to the Sept. 11 attacks by invading Afghanistan and, in a beat, then going to war in Iraq. It remains mired in both countries to this day.

I was also relatively appalled by our country yesterday when I turned on USA and there was, what seemed, a huge 9/11 memorial taking place. People were holding "God Bless America" signs and waving flags, and a woman in a red, white and blue, rather skimpily clad, outfit was belting out the National Anthem as parents with little kids swayed in response. Immediately upon the end of the slutty-looking blonde's rendition of "The Star Spangled Banner," two men in spandex outfits, one in a pink feather boa, jumped into a ring and started beating the holy crap out of each other: knocking their faces into the bars, hitting each other over the head with folding chairs, slamming their combat boots into the neck of their opponent. All while these kids in their American Flag shirts and 9/11 Memorial Signs looked on and cheered.

No wonder our country is so utterly messed up; is so clearly devoid of proper priorities.

I am appalled, once again.

Back Pain and the Cats-As-Aliens Theory

I woke up this morning with my entire back killing me. I know why - it always seems to be my own damn fault. I taught a class on basic lifts and sharing weight/counterbalancing yesterday. I pulled countless students up onto my feet in a superman pose and took several students onto my back to demonstrate the various ways to find human shelves. I am paying for it today; I don't have that kind of strength and ability the same way I used to.

I guess my back and neck always hurt. I'm used to the dull, whispering pain that set in about ten or twelve years ago and never fully left. I know my neck has gotten worse over the years because I sleep in awkward, curled positions and my tics are ten times worse in my neck than in any other part of my body (save maybe my stomach). But when you stand this much pain for this long, your body gets used to dealing with it; it makes you wear out sooner but you work through it and your life goes on. It's frustrating to wake up feeling debilitated by pain because I know the hurt must truly be excruciating if I can't seem to work through it; if I can't get it off my mind.

On a different, lighter, perhaps more disturbing note, John and I had a phone conversation today as he sat up at UCSD mastering the AIDS awareness dance film he's been working on for the past - it seems - 400 years. He's convinced that, if aliens have in fact infiltrated our society in order to learn things about the way we work, that they have come in the shape of cats. I don't disagree. Take, for instance, the photograph above. How other-worldly is that? He thinks that the consistent midnight tearing about the house in which all felines seem to partake is actually a response to calls from the Mother Ship. He even goes so far as to say that aliens came down thousands of years ago and took the shape of cats with the intent to conquer the world, but they enjoyed the petting and being fed and being pampered and worshipped so much, that they just never left.

John and I live with three very odd aliens. One of them is sitting on my lap right now.

I wonder if their untapped powers include curing back pain?