The Play's The Thing

Yesterday afternoon I went to see a performance of Richard III with an acquaintance from work, and it was a lot of fun.

The director used projection -- both video and computer powerpoint and email -- to provide background and have some actors appear only in digital form. It might not have worked, but turned out to be an interesting, effective choice. The play opened with a "Previously on --" powerpoint, which helped to orient the audience. King Edward appeared only on video, as if from a camera set up in his hospital room. Ditto the two princes in the tower, using what looked like a phone in the interview room of a jail. I wasn't sure if they were actually performing backstage, and being projected live during the performance, or if it was all filmed earlier, and everyone had the timing of the performances utterly mastered.

Richard used anonymous email to spread the rumors referred to in the script, and announced the execution of Hastings as ". . . has gone on to pursue other projects. We wish him all the best in his new endeavors," which made my friend and I both laugh hard, because we've seen more than a few of those at work lately.

Because there were only seven people in the cast, the director did not try to do a battle scene. Instead, there was a debate, with a map of England, Scotland and Wales projected on the screen, with the counties marked in red or white for which side (York or Lancaster -- or Lancaster and York) were winning there. That too was surprisingly effective. At the end of the debate, however, as Richmond won, Richard exclaimed rapidly, "A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse!" into the microphone before running off -- because, of course, you must have that line if you're doing Richard III.

My companion for the afternoon was Carl, who also works in my department at work. As I noted a few days ago, he is married, and his wife lives in Dallas -- and we both like to see plays but don't like to see them alone. We both enjoyed the afternoon, and the conversation, and agreed that we should do this again.

This company's next production is Cyrano. He's going to take his wife, and I'm going to ask my dad to go, since it's one of his favorite plays. Carl suggested we all go together -- which would be a hoot.

Matching Baggage

I posted a few days ago that I have come to feel that I am once again open to love. (I started feeling that way right before Miss V's dramatic shift --- which, again, I can't consider totally coincidental.)

Part of the process of reaching this point was seeing Rent back on Christmas Day. It didn't make that much of an impression at first. . . but as the days passed, I realized that one brief sequence kept replaying in my head:

Roger: No one's perfect. I've got baggage!
Mimi: Life's too short, babe. Time is flyin'
I'm looking for baggage that goes with mine.

Baggage that goes with mine.

For the last three years or so, I've been so aware of being wounded, but these words helped me release a lot of that.

I'm 41 years old. I've had my share of intense relationships. I've been hurt. Those who loved me have been hurt. And what else should I expect after being alive and living with passion for the years that I have?

And the people who I might come to love, and who will love me, are the same way. We don't have to be perfectly healed, or deny our pasts, or be able to guarantee we'll never hurt or be hurt again. We don't even have to have "matching" baggage -- just baggage that "goes with." To be able to meet and connect and share and offer love and understanding.

It almost seems silly to type it here -- well, doh!
But it's hit me powerfully.

Maybe it's simply beginning to accept my own lack of perfection, as an individual and as a lover/partner.

The List

I'm not sure what prompted this, but a few days ago I started making a mental list of the things I've wanted to do for a long time, but have not actually accomplished. These are the not-immediately-urgent things I've never found the time, energy, and/or confidence to actually make real.

And I need to do something about that.

In no particular order:

Learn to fence (that is: wield a foil, not erect barriers around property)
Learn to belly dance
(Obviously I should be spending more time with rocket_jockey and pathdancer!)
Direct a film (my own film, not someone else's documentary project)
Direct a production of Godspell with a woman cast as Jesus
Engage in sacred/ritual/magical sex
Learn to ballroom dance
Publish a book, whether it's a novel or a work of non-fiction
Drive from Seattle to Los Angeles by myself, taking a week or so to complete the trip
Create a gallery in my entryway to display the highlights of my movie stills collection


These are all things I would like to do -- but then there are the day-to-day and/or urgent need-to-do's to take care of, not just the mundane stuff (job, house care, child time), and the biggest of my not-yet-fulfilled desires: the need to get my spiritual direction practice actually underway.

There is so much I could do to enhance my life. And I spend so much time on trivia -- not even the important householder tasks.

I need more energy, and a higher-level view of my own life. I think I've gotten trench-vision. All I can see is what is directly in front of me -- and what seems to be pressing in on me from the sidees. And that's no way to run my life.

Quote from Wednesday

"Do you want me to tell you something really subversive? Love is everything it's cracked up to be. That's why people are so cynical about it. It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. And the trouble is, if you don't risk everything, you risk even more."

- Erica Jong

Mascot

Ordinarily I have little to no interest in birds. However, I had to share a tidbit of ornithological information from the back of my alumni magazine.

By way of background: the Pomona College mascot is the Sagehen -- which is right down there with the Evergreen State College Geoduck as an inspiration for athletic enthusiasm. Let it not be said, however, that my alma mater is lacking in a sense of humor. The college fight song goes like this:

When Cecil Sagehen chirps
We're gonna fracture the foes of Pomona's might.
When Cecil Sagehen chirps,
We're gonna whale on their bods for the blue and white.
Our foes are filled with dread
Whenever Cecil Sagehen flies overhead.
We're gonna C, we're gonna H, we're gonna I - R - P
When Cecil chirps his way to victory!
CHIRP!

And yes, they do sing that at football games.

Anyway. . . . the alumni magazine arrived yesterday, and the back cover teaser goes like this: "The Sagehen is plump, prefers walking to flying, and often is likened to the chicken. But our beloved mascot, known to ornithologists as the sage grouse, has still managed to garner quite a reputation for its colorful sex life. . . " Story on page 26 .

This conjures up such a riot of amusing images -- not all of them involving birds -- that I don't think I actually want to read the article and spoil the fun.