Well, I was going to be really productive tonight and work on my Italian homework while I was trying to stay up. Unfortunately, I don't have much enthusiasm for homework these days as it is; the later in the day, the less enthusiasm I have. More and more, I'm wishing that I was already Div III so that I could not have to do tons and tons of homework, and I could just work on one project for a whole year. It'd be great.
Still trying to settle on a name for my clown character. I'm thinking Charlotte is the way to go right now. I just want to make sure there's little chance of me wanting to name a child this name in the future; I don't want to confuse my children and my alter-ego. I think that's probably unhealthy, haha. But Charlotte has some meaning behind it; if I decide to go with it, I'll talk more about that.
I am suddenly super-tired and can't even think about anything else to talk about here. I'm out.
25 April, 2010
21 April, 2010
Bitches Don't Know 'Bout My Clowning!
Title courtesy of my lovely modmate, Ian.
Had clowning tonight with the glorious Sophie Wood. It just occurred to me that until now, I haven't really thought about why I like clowning.
It makes me feel good. I like to be silly, I like making people laugh, and I like feeling that there's someone inside me who is sweet, caring, and likable - and that she gets accentuated every time I put on the red nose or the whiteface.
It's psychological, too, perhaps. As I've said before, my character has a lot of my personality traits, amplified. I like to use her as an excuse to show the world my innermost fears, in a way - the timidity, the need to be loved, etc.
I'm also very attracted to the European aesthetic of clowning. I love whiteface, and I love doing interesting things with makeup in general.
I love the circus.
I love performance.
I love comedy.
And I'm so very passionate about clowns and clowning the majority of the time. I mean, I'm studying it, for goodness' sake. I'm going to Italy to study it, in fact. Whenever I'm not being passionate about it actively, I'm usually doing it passively through preparation to study it - taking Italian, filling out endless field study paperwork, etc.
Even my therapy sessions seem like clown work to me these days. The more I find out about myself, the more material I have for my character.
It occurs to me that my sweet little clown character needs a name. I have a couple over which I am debating right now. I need to get a second opinion.
I also need to get to bed here. I just wanted to let the world know that I feel better because I love what I'm doing, and what I'm doing is clowning.
Had clowning tonight with the glorious Sophie Wood. It just occurred to me that until now, I haven't really thought about why I like clowning.
It makes me feel good. I like to be silly, I like making people laugh, and I like feeling that there's someone inside me who is sweet, caring, and likable - and that she gets accentuated every time I put on the red nose or the whiteface.
It's psychological, too, perhaps. As I've said before, my character has a lot of my personality traits, amplified. I like to use her as an excuse to show the world my innermost fears, in a way - the timidity, the need to be loved, etc.
I'm also very attracted to the European aesthetic of clowning. I love whiteface, and I love doing interesting things with makeup in general.
I love the circus.
I love performance.
I love comedy.
And I'm so very passionate about clowns and clowning the majority of the time. I mean, I'm studying it, for goodness' sake. I'm going to Italy to study it, in fact. Whenever I'm not being passionate about it actively, I'm usually doing it passively through preparation to study it - taking Italian, filling out endless field study paperwork, etc.
Even my therapy sessions seem like clown work to me these days. The more I find out about myself, the more material I have for my character.
It occurs to me that my sweet little clown character needs a name. I have a couple over which I am debating right now. I need to get a second opinion.
I also need to get to bed here. I just wanted to let the world know that I feel better because I love what I'm doing, and what I'm doing is clowning.
20 April, 2010
My Own Beautiful Words
All right, I know I already posted today, but I'm suddenly feeling strange and like I need to write something and reach out to the world at large. Or something.
When I blogged more regularly (on MySpace, believe it or not), I tended to get a little more intense sometimes, and certainly more personal. I feel like here, so far, I talk a lot about my studies, which are important...and I feel like maybe I complain a lot. I mean, I've always been pretty opinionated, and that showed through a lot in my prior blogging efforts.
This is somehow different, though. Maybe I've lost the confidence in a lot of my opinions - or maybe more like the confidence in myself to relay them accurately. I've also turned more toward writing in an actual, physical journal, where I get far, far more personal - which is something I wouldn't be willing to do in a public blog.
At the risk of putting too much out there, there are some things I want to say.
I have been living in multiple mental worlds lately. In addition to having to live in the here and now, in the reality of the moment, I've been wrestling internally and trying to put things straight.
There is one part of me that's hopeful and excited. That's the part of me that's been having ideas and getting inspired and doing art the past couple days. It's the part of me that thinks about how amazing my future is going to be. It feels wonderful; if I could just dwell in that part of myself forever, I feel like I can be happy.
But the other part of me - the part that takes over far more frequently and that has been lingering around for months now - is poison. It's pain, and discontent, and malice toward myself mostly. I know where it's coming from, and I also know that, given enough time, it will go away. It's just so much of a struggle for me right now because it's sapping all my creativity and just making me feel worse.
More than anything, I used to want to write beautiful things. I wanted them to be emotional and meaningful and an experience to read. Since last January, I've been choked into silence - and here's the killer - by myself. I can't find beautiful words anymore. The last beautiful thing I wrote caused me to experience a lot of feelings I hadn't wanted to experience for a long time.
Despite the fact that life and love are beautiful things, all the words I can find to say about them are that they are beautiful things. A lot of the time, when I want to express my deeper feelings about such things, I turn to someone else's words.
Maybe I'm hoping that going to Italy will put some poetry back in my heart, back in my writing. Or maybe I should go with the angst and see where that takes me, I don't know. If I dwell on it too much sometimes, I just become fetal, and it's hard to write in that position.
In honor of the fact that I want to write beautiful words again, here's a look at the last really beautiful thing I wrote - one of the few things I'm still proud of writing:
"I feel that most people think being in love means one must be constantly euphoric in the presence of the beloved. The reality of the condition of love, as far as I can tell, is much more incredible and fulfilling. Lying in the dark with another human person - feeling the steady breathing of another human life and realizing, profoundly, that in that collection of flesh and blood and bone is a /person/ - is both terrifying and thrilling. Within a matter of seconds, reality is shattered and reconstructed around your new realizations, unwarranted and sometimes even unnoticed."
When I blogged more regularly (on MySpace, believe it or not), I tended to get a little more intense sometimes, and certainly more personal. I feel like here, so far, I talk a lot about my studies, which are important...and I feel like maybe I complain a lot. I mean, I've always been pretty opinionated, and that showed through a lot in my prior blogging efforts.
This is somehow different, though. Maybe I've lost the confidence in a lot of my opinions - or maybe more like the confidence in myself to relay them accurately. I've also turned more toward writing in an actual, physical journal, where I get far, far more personal - which is something I wouldn't be willing to do in a public blog.
At the risk of putting too much out there, there are some things I want to say.
I have been living in multiple mental worlds lately. In addition to having to live in the here and now, in the reality of the moment, I've been wrestling internally and trying to put things straight.
There is one part of me that's hopeful and excited. That's the part of me that's been having ideas and getting inspired and doing art the past couple days. It's the part of me that thinks about how amazing my future is going to be. It feels wonderful; if I could just dwell in that part of myself forever, I feel like I can be happy.
But the other part of me - the part that takes over far more frequently and that has been lingering around for months now - is poison. It's pain, and discontent, and malice toward myself mostly. I know where it's coming from, and I also know that, given enough time, it will go away. It's just so much of a struggle for me right now because it's sapping all my creativity and just making me feel worse.
More than anything, I used to want to write beautiful things. I wanted them to be emotional and meaningful and an experience to read. Since last January, I've been choked into silence - and here's the killer - by myself. I can't find beautiful words anymore. The last beautiful thing I wrote caused me to experience a lot of feelings I hadn't wanted to experience for a long time.
Despite the fact that life and love are beautiful things, all the words I can find to say about them are that they are beautiful things. A lot of the time, when I want to express my deeper feelings about such things, I turn to someone else's words.
Maybe I'm hoping that going to Italy will put some poetry back in my heart, back in my writing. Or maybe I should go with the angst and see where that takes me, I don't know. If I dwell on it too much sometimes, I just become fetal, and it's hard to write in that position.
In honor of the fact that I want to write beautiful words again, here's a look at the last really beautiful thing I wrote - one of the few things I'm still proud of writing:
"I feel that most people think being in love means one must be constantly euphoric in the presence of the beloved. The reality of the condition of love, as far as I can tell, is much more incredible and fulfilling. Lying in the dark with another human person - feeling the steady breathing of another human life and realizing, profoundly, that in that collection of flesh and blood and bone is a /person/ - is both terrifying and thrilling. Within a matter of seconds, reality is shattered and reconstructed around your new realizations, unwarranted and sometimes even unnoticed."
Puppets! Clowns! Baked Goods! Oh my!
Went to see a puppet show in Northampton today, at the Academy of Music. It was the Crabapple Puppet Theatre Company's "The Last Dragon on Earth." It was cute, and the audience was made up of at least 75% of persons under the age of eight. They used hand puppets, rod puppets, and shadow puppets. I had kind of been expecting marionettes, but I'm not disappointed. Hand puppets always remind me of Mr. Rogers and, for some reason, Lady Elaine Fairchild in particular. I think it's because she looks like Mr. Punch, and he's kind of the quintessential hand puppet.
What with all the children and the puppets and the fact that I'm wearing a very colorful sweater, I decided to put on my clown nose after the performance, for the duration of the bus ride back to Hampshire and the walk to my room. Being a clown in public...well, having never really done it before, so I had a hard time figuring out what to do. I decided to just be my clown persona, albeit passively. I bounced a bit more when I walked, I sat cross-legged on the bus seat - little things like that.
Then I came back to my room and James, who is currently at his parents' house in Maryland, informed me that he has a shiny new baking blog! I'm very excited about this development.
The rest of the day sees me finishing an Italian composition, watching a film for Screen Comedy...maybe doing more artwork (I've been doing quite a bit lately) and/or reading about clowns. Off I go, to my excruciatingly productive day. =]
What with all the children and the puppets and the fact that I'm wearing a very colorful sweater, I decided to put on my clown nose after the performance, for the duration of the bus ride back to Hampshire and the walk to my room. Being a clown in public...well, having never really done it before, so I had a hard time figuring out what to do. I decided to just be my clown persona, albeit passively. I bounced a bit more when I walked, I sat cross-legged on the bus seat - little things like that.
Then I came back to my room and James, who is currently at his parents' house in Maryland, informed me that he has a shiny new baking blog! I'm very excited about this development.
The rest of the day sees me finishing an Italian composition, watching a film for Screen Comedy...maybe doing more artwork (I've been doing quite a bit lately) and/or reading about clowns. Off I go, to my excruciatingly productive day. =]
16 April, 2010
I'M IN.
I got into the Accademia dell'Arte! I'm going to be in Italy in the fall! I'm really excited!
I'm also really, really tired. It's been a long day full of craziness. But I'm feeling pretty good. I've been waiting for this letter for four weeks; it feels great to finally have it.
The one unfortunate thing about all this - I'm going to have a roommate. Ew. I'm not used to a roommate. Or, well, I am, but he's my boyfriend. It's quite different. Then again, it's only one semester, and the room is beautiful, and it's in Italy. It'll be great.
I'm also really, really tired. It's been a long day full of craziness. But I'm feeling pretty good. I've been waiting for this letter for four weeks; it feels great to finally have it.
The one unfortunate thing about all this - I'm going to have a roommate. Ew. I'm not used to a roommate. Or, well, I am, but he's my boyfriend. It's quite different. Then again, it's only one semester, and the room is beautiful, and it's in Italy. It'll be great.
09 April, 2010
Over a Month Later...An Update!
Much has happened. For instance, I turned twenty last Sunday! Additionally, I finished all my field study paperwork and handed that in! That's great.
Jutta Sperling will, very shortly, no longer be my committee member; Constance Valis Hill will be taking her place. Constance is determined to get me to do more performance, which is probably a good thing, all in all.
And I just learned that, at least in Israel, there's such a thing as clown therapy. That's very exciting to me. I had considered going into the field of art therapy, and now I'm very vaguely considering this. My only real qualm about this is having to take psychology courses...and having some medical knowledge (since this sort of thing takes place in pediatric hospitals).
One thing I've been increasingly interested about, and something I may or may not look into more and write more about, is how one's clown character reflects one's personality in some ways. It's something I've noticed in myself, certainly, and in James...and possibly in others, as well. I just think it would make a kind of fascinating study. I guess I think of my own character as being me, but more so. Amplify the shyness (that has begun to exist less in the past few years), amplify the need to please and the desire to be loved (though they're already huge, they are by no means painfully obvious)...that's my girl. Haha.
Anyway, I'm a terrible college student in that I'm already exhausted at twenty of twelve on a Friday night. I'm probably going to brush my teeth and head to bed. But I thought an update was in order.
Jutta Sperling will, very shortly, no longer be my committee member; Constance Valis Hill will be taking her place. Constance is determined to get me to do more performance, which is probably a good thing, all in all.
And I just learned that, at least in Israel, there's such a thing as clown therapy. That's very exciting to me. I had considered going into the field of art therapy, and now I'm very vaguely considering this. My only real qualm about this is having to take psychology courses...and having some medical knowledge (since this sort of thing takes place in pediatric hospitals).
One thing I've been increasingly interested about, and something I may or may not look into more and write more about, is how one's clown character reflects one's personality in some ways. It's something I've noticed in myself, certainly, and in James...and possibly in others, as well. I just think it would make a kind of fascinating study. I guess I think of my own character as being me, but more so. Amplify the shyness (that has begun to exist less in the past few years), amplify the need to please and the desire to be loved (though they're already huge, they are by no means painfully obvious)...that's my girl. Haha.
Anyway, I'm a terrible college student in that I'm already exhausted at twenty of twelve on a Friday night. I'm probably going to brush my teeth and head to bed. But I thought an update was in order.
22 February, 2010
I'm So Full of Fears.
One of my chief fears is that I've lost my edge, along with some of my creativity. I find that I am more frequently uninspired or bored - since I got to college, that is. I feel like before I found ways to occupy myself more.
Regardless, I'm more or less happier now than I was then; I'm getting into my own groove, figuring out my lifestyle, and I enjoy that. But I have seen where my other joys are starting to slip away. I need to make a more concentrated effort before they disappear entirely.
I think I'm far more wrapped up in myself than I used to be, which is probably part of the problem. Not that it really is a problem; I think it's something important that I didn't do enough of when I was younger. I'm making up for it now, though, I think.
I think that being in a relationship has a lot to do with my recent (past year or so) delving into self-ness. It's good progress, reflecting on why I am the way I am. What's bad about it is that I pick out my insecurities as well and dwell on them and feel guilty and ugly because of them. Thankfully, I have a partner who is very understanding and patient; I'm very, very lucky.
I have been doing slightly more writing of late, between this blog, my personal journal, and just things that I write when thoughts occur to me. I'm working on doing more artwork for myself, but that's hard with no income and very little time. And the thing about getting a job would be that I would be getting more money, but also losing more free time to do personal artwork. A conundrum.
My lack of money has become so stressful that I actually had a dream involving it this morning; I was in a bookstore with my family, and my mother asked me what I thought I was doing looking at books when I didn't have any money. I snapped back at her that I had a gift card, and when she asked me why I had to be so snippy about it, I replied that "I am very aware of the fact that I have no money, I hate being reminded that I have no money, and I don't want to think about the fact that I have no money. I think about it too much." Obviously, that's the truth if I'm thinking about it in my dreams. Oh boy.
My dreams the past two nights have been violent, which also worries me. They're nowhere near as graphic as some I've had in the past, but that doesn't make them any less worrisome. If there are people dying in my dreams by violent means, I think I have every right to feel concerned. What the hell is going on in my head?
On the bright side, I have come up with an idea to submit to Space 242 and I should have adequate time to work on it, perhaps. I just need to be better about getting work done and allotting time for everything.
Also, James and I are kitty-sitting for our friend Panda. The feline in question is a black tortoiseshell named Rashia who has seven toes on each of her front paws. She's pretty sweet, though taking a little time to adjust. She keeps heaving and not following through with a hairball, which I'm sure is perfectly normal but sounds pretty stressful. I'm here in James's room watching her while he's out and about; she has tried to walk behind the spider tanks a couple times already, and we really don't want Mehitabel or Ungoliant crawling around the room or getting mauled by a cat. Jasper, the ball python, is pretty safe; he's in a ten-gallon fish tank with a very secure lid.
The cat, at the moment and for several hours now, is sleeping on the office chair. That's where she spent a good deal of time last night while we were watching a movie, as well. I assume she likes it because it's dark. She crawled into bed with us last night a few times, only once not at the foot of the bed. James had her at his chest for maybe seven whole minutes before she decided to roam again.
I skipped Italian this morning because I was beat from waking up and/or not being able to sleep because of the cat. Around seven this morning she decided to jump up on the shelf with the spiders again and James had to coax her down. I would have woken up at that time and gone to bed again anyway until getting up at eight, but I was just too pooped.
So I have spent today doing homework, mostly. I have some more reading to do for tap class tonight, and then I don't know what I'll do (which is probably part of the reason I'm blogging - to kill some time). I might actually take a nap; I find that they're helpful for me, especially if I have classes that go until ten at night. I suppose it's time I could use to do something creative, and maybe I'll decide to, who knows.
Anyway, a lot of blather about nothing in particular. I'm off.
Regardless, I'm more or less happier now than I was then; I'm getting into my own groove, figuring out my lifestyle, and I enjoy that. But I have seen where my other joys are starting to slip away. I need to make a more concentrated effort before they disappear entirely.
I think I'm far more wrapped up in myself than I used to be, which is probably part of the problem. Not that it really is a problem; I think it's something important that I didn't do enough of when I was younger. I'm making up for it now, though, I think.
I think that being in a relationship has a lot to do with my recent (past year or so) delving into self-ness. It's good progress, reflecting on why I am the way I am. What's bad about it is that I pick out my insecurities as well and dwell on them and feel guilty and ugly because of them. Thankfully, I have a partner who is very understanding and patient; I'm very, very lucky.
I have been doing slightly more writing of late, between this blog, my personal journal, and just things that I write when thoughts occur to me. I'm working on doing more artwork for myself, but that's hard with no income and very little time. And the thing about getting a job would be that I would be getting more money, but also losing more free time to do personal artwork. A conundrum.
My lack of money has become so stressful that I actually had a dream involving it this morning; I was in a bookstore with my family, and my mother asked me what I thought I was doing looking at books when I didn't have any money. I snapped back at her that I had a gift card, and when she asked me why I had to be so snippy about it, I replied that "I am very aware of the fact that I have no money, I hate being reminded that I have no money, and I don't want to think about the fact that I have no money. I think about it too much." Obviously, that's the truth if I'm thinking about it in my dreams. Oh boy.
My dreams the past two nights have been violent, which also worries me. They're nowhere near as graphic as some I've had in the past, but that doesn't make them any less worrisome. If there are people dying in my dreams by violent means, I think I have every right to feel concerned. What the hell is going on in my head?
On the bright side, I have come up with an idea to submit to Space 242 and I should have adequate time to work on it, perhaps. I just need to be better about getting work done and allotting time for everything.
Also, James and I are kitty-sitting for our friend Panda. The feline in question is a black tortoiseshell named Rashia who has seven toes on each of her front paws. She's pretty sweet, though taking a little time to adjust. She keeps heaving and not following through with a hairball, which I'm sure is perfectly normal but sounds pretty stressful. I'm here in James's room watching her while he's out and about; she has tried to walk behind the spider tanks a couple times already, and we really don't want Mehitabel or Ungoliant crawling around the room or getting mauled by a cat. Jasper, the ball python, is pretty safe; he's in a ten-gallon fish tank with a very secure lid.
The cat, at the moment and for several hours now, is sleeping on the office chair. That's where she spent a good deal of time last night while we were watching a movie, as well. I assume she likes it because it's dark. She crawled into bed with us last night a few times, only once not at the foot of the bed. James had her at his chest for maybe seven whole minutes before she decided to roam again.
I skipped Italian this morning because I was beat from waking up and/or not being able to sleep because of the cat. Around seven this morning she decided to jump up on the shelf with the spiders again and James had to coax her down. I would have woken up at that time and gone to bed again anyway until getting up at eight, but I was just too pooped.
So I have spent today doing homework, mostly. I have some more reading to do for tap class tonight, and then I don't know what I'll do (which is probably part of the reason I'm blogging - to kill some time). I might actually take a nap; I find that they're helpful for me, especially if I have classes that go until ten at night. I suppose it's time I could use to do something creative, and maybe I'll decide to, who knows.
Anyway, a lot of blather about nothing in particular. I'm off.
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