Sunday, November 29, 2009

Thanks Thanksgiving!

Dear Blog,

Lately I've been in Oregon. Mostly just the usual. Tea, Knitting, Can-can dancing on stage with a reindeer, Cole, Eric, Paul, Rose, and the man singing Christmas carols to thousands of people. You know, typical Thanksgiving stuff.

It's too bad we didn't get in the Daily Tidings. They put Santa on the front page, and it actually was Santa. His name was listed as Santa in the caption. You can't put a fake name in the newspaper!

I arrived in Portland just in time to enjoy the experience of Pete basting a turkey. I enjoyed it immensely! Then Pete and whiskey made me feel right at home. A few hours later I was whisked away by a guy met on craigslist, Eric, and a (literal) bucket of vegan donuts.

Me and Pete hang out in the hospital! A blast from the past I found while sorting through boxes!

The donuts and I cuddled up in the back and enjoyed the two hour drive to the Shire--I mean, Eugene. But when I was all settled into my hobbit hole-- I mean, Ilana and Kyle's hobbit hole my stomach started hurting and I told the donuts we couldn't be friends anymore.

The next morning was nothing but wispy blue clouds in a wispy blue sky, followed by coffee and two breakfasts (typical of hobbits). Next I revisited my beloved Craft Center. Diane described the new floor as "white and covered with blood!" I replied, "I love it!"

On to Ashland Oregon with Cole as chauffer. He pulled off the highway along lonely stretches and hinted "jokingly" that he was planning to kill us. Nevertheless we all made it to Ashland alive and unmaimed and were able to keep our appointment with destiny.

Destiny? Yes, the moment I mentioned earlier. The moment that will live on and on and on... in all hearts of Ashlanders. The moment we shuffled off our mortal limitations and took to the stage!

Each year Ashland has a day after Thanksgiving parade (about 15 minutes of carolers, trucks, and gingerbread men) in which Santa arrives just in time to turn on all the lights downtown. And he gives a speech. After every sentence of joy and thanks he says: "Hurray!" or "Yay!"

This year his speech worked us into such a frenzy that we were shrieking "hurray" right along with him! And when the man who always sings christmas carols came on stage to sing we danced with abandon.

"On the one hand, [dancing on stage] would be the greatest thing ever, on the other hand we'd ruin Christmas!" -Cole Robinson (aka "Scrooge," and "the Grinch")

Still, in such a heightened state of christmas joy there is only one logical next step. So yes, we found ourselves storming the stage (with the help of one of the reindeer) in order to dance behind the solitary man singing "jingle bell rock" to an audience consisting of... Ashland. I saw myself clearly in that moment, highkicking, one hand on Cole's shoulder, one on Paul's, "this is it" I thought. "This is what it's all about..."


Monday, November 9, 2009

A Group Study in Aunt Beast in New Mexico

Many months ago, after reading A Wrinkle In Time we assigned ourselves this task: draw Aunt Beast. Aunt Beast, that caretaker alien, that motherly, tentacled comfort. Or was she tentacled? The drawings above conflict often.

These sketches are by (from top to bottom) Phil, Allee, Kristen, Stef, and Christy. I have taken the liberty of superimposing the aunts into their natural environments.

Friday, November 6, 2009

On the way to work today, biking in fall with the trees and the moon and such it occured to me, this plan: put the dictionary in rhyming order.  Maybe starting with the pocket dictionary.
Next idea came in the theater at VSA: surrounded by smiling faces, a bunch of emphasis on shoulders and dance:choreograph a dance with verbal audible instructions as a part of the finished performance.  Also, incorporate actions like condensing.  For instance a group of birds condensing the ones in the center.  

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Monday, November 2, 2009

And for the Shamanic Dancing portion of the evening...

Fits and Starts of
Performance Arts

See this film to experience a little of what I experience every day.