Haven't had a chance to post in ages. Very little time to post now. I've been editing away and teaching writing, plus hosting a Real Live Thanksgiving (including NYTimes recipes and Everything). That was lovely because my husband is here now so it felt like Home. Some great friends over and best neighbor ever, Russell, cooked extraordinary veggies. So good we forgot to take pictures.
About to go teach, so can't write much but felt like I should pop up my head and say hello. I haven't been this busy in a long time. Life is full, sometimes that's good, sometimes overwhelming, but all in all, it's real life and That is good. Very good.
Back to work again…be in touch, hopefully sooner, when on the other side!
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
Sunday, November 17, 2013
RIP Doris Lessing (1919-2013)
Doris Lessing was arguably the greatest author of the 20th Century. I know Many of you will disagree, but if so: go now and read The Golden Notebook and the Martha Quest series, stack it up against anything else written in the 60s-80s, and tell me if you can honestly say it's better. Yes, I am totally serious.
I found The Golden Notebook by accident in a bookstore at age 20-21. As so many people, I had never heard of her, because she never ended up on any syllabi. You who are reading this, even though she won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2007 may never have heard of her. That's because she was unclassifiable. No matter what box someone tried to fit her into, like the Houdini of literature, she'd find a way out.
She particularly hated the ghetto term "feminist author." Why do I say ghetto term? Well, think of it, especially if you are a male human being reading this right now, if you hear the phrase "feminist author" are you running out to buy her work? No, I didn't think so. Also, would you guess, because of that label, that she deals equally with issues of world politics, especially war, communism, Africa, England, Big Ideas, Experimentation with Form, etc…all the subject areas of the Angry Young Men of her generation? No, you wouldn't. You'd have images of nice middle class women chatting about their wombs or something.
That's why she hated the term. Because she was A Writer who Was Also a Woman (heaven Forfend). Yes, her writing had feminist implications, if by feminist you mean, a naked (in every way) female voice not intimidated by anyone (including so-called feminist)'s idea of what she Should Feel, Say, Think, Care About, etc.
As a young woman who happened upon her Golden Notebook, she changed my life. Here was a Voice, a Female Voice, whispering to me in words in a fragmented structure, evoking feelings, sensations, suspicions, Ideas, arguments, insecurities, rages, dreams, aspirations, daring, wisdom…all from a protean, flawed, human, female protagonist that I could begin to understand - because she was Not boxed into the categories reserved - even in the mid-80s - for the derogatory, second class label: Female.
She is also, as anyone following this blog will know, in the generation of my grandmothers, about whom I am writing. They were born in 1916, she in 1919 - close enough. Also children of violence (as Ms. Lessing called her generation - children of the wreckage of the First World War), though American. Only one of whom attempted an escape as daring as Ms. Lessing's, who unfortunately did not start out as early or as successfully or living as long. But she did dare.
I encourage anyone reading this post to read any and all work of Doris Lessing. If you want to begin to understand the great breadth and depth of the greatest conflicts in the 20th Century (especially as regards Europe, Africa and the Middle East), you must.
Don't let ornery (usually male) critics tell you she can't write or she writes too much or whatever. They Are Wrong. That's all there is to it. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. She writes in a way that allows her to say what she needs to say and how she needs to say it. If there were no Doris Lessing, there would be no room in publishing/media for Lena Dunham or Mary Karr or Joan Didion or Margaret Atwood…the list of her descendants is long…So, respect. A life well lived for which we are all better off because she so lived it.
I found The Golden Notebook by accident in a bookstore at age 20-21. As so many people, I had never heard of her, because she never ended up on any syllabi. You who are reading this, even though she won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2007 may never have heard of her. That's because she was unclassifiable. No matter what box someone tried to fit her into, like the Houdini of literature, she'd find a way out.
She particularly hated the ghetto term "feminist author." Why do I say ghetto term? Well, think of it, especially if you are a male human being reading this right now, if you hear the phrase "feminist author" are you running out to buy her work? No, I didn't think so. Also, would you guess, because of that label, that she deals equally with issues of world politics, especially war, communism, Africa, England, Big Ideas, Experimentation with Form, etc…all the subject areas of the Angry Young Men of her generation? No, you wouldn't. You'd have images of nice middle class women chatting about their wombs or something.
That's why she hated the term. Because she was A Writer who Was Also a Woman (heaven Forfend). Yes, her writing had feminist implications, if by feminist you mean, a naked (in every way) female voice not intimidated by anyone (including so-called feminist)'s idea of what she Should Feel, Say, Think, Care About, etc.
As a young woman who happened upon her Golden Notebook, she changed my life. Here was a Voice, a Female Voice, whispering to me in words in a fragmented structure, evoking feelings, sensations, suspicions, Ideas, arguments, insecurities, rages, dreams, aspirations, daring, wisdom…all from a protean, flawed, human, female protagonist that I could begin to understand - because she was Not boxed into the categories reserved - even in the mid-80s - for the derogatory, second class label: Female.
She is also, as anyone following this blog will know, in the generation of my grandmothers, about whom I am writing. They were born in 1916, she in 1919 - close enough. Also children of violence (as Ms. Lessing called her generation - children of the wreckage of the First World War), though American. Only one of whom attempted an escape as daring as Ms. Lessing's, who unfortunately did not start out as early or as successfully or living as long. But she did dare.
I encourage anyone reading this post to read any and all work of Doris Lessing. If you want to begin to understand the great breadth and depth of the greatest conflicts in the 20th Century (especially as regards Europe, Africa and the Middle East), you must.
Don't let ornery (usually male) critics tell you she can't write or she writes too much or whatever. They Are Wrong. That's all there is to it. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. She writes in a way that allows her to say what she needs to say and how she needs to say it. If there were no Doris Lessing, there would be no room in publishing/media for Lena Dunham or Mary Karr or Joan Didion or Margaret Atwood…the list of her descendants is long…So, respect. A life well lived for which we are all better off because she so lived it.
Friday, November 8, 2013
Life is full to bursting...
I haven't written here for a while because the editing job I mentioned in last post takes up a huge portion of my time and John, my beloved Canadian husband, is here for an extended visit so it's all life all the time. Oh and I'm still teaching.
So, just a few things to say I'm alive:
Grateful beyond measure for my new, rigorous yoga practice at KeshavaRadha yoga. Without it, I doubt I'd be standing.
So incredibly grateful for John being here and being so incredibly helpful with everything. I have never been with someone so extraordinarily loving and attentive. I have to be careful even so because I forget I have to just focus on my work and can't be attempting to take care of him right now, too. But that's hard. Not because of John, I hasten to add, but because of pressure I put on myself. However, because John is here, he gives me: back rubs, dinner, coffee in bed, a sympathetic ear and relief from endless household tasks and sweet relief from the anxiety of my true love's absence.
We're getting through the bumpy bits and it's just wonderful to know he's here for a while. Visa process still pending but on its way. I've never felt so comfortable with another human being, so it's easy to forget sometimes how new this situation is. Wouldn't trade it for anything!
Some things I'm also grateful for: that we in NYC voted for Bill de Blasio for Mayor. Hopefully that signals some positive change in the city. My Fordham students' writing is getting better. This delights me.
Sad about the passing of Lou Reed, stunned by beauty of Laurie Anderson's farewell to him (if you haven't read it, do - it's in new issue of Rolling Stone and online). So glad these days to hear of true love and people who can even hold one another in the face of mortality.
Don't have more to say right now. Life is life. Life is love. Breathing is good for the soul. True love is also good for the soul and being able to live for a while with my true love is even better!
So, just a few things to say I'm alive:
Grateful beyond measure for my new, rigorous yoga practice at KeshavaRadha yoga. Without it, I doubt I'd be standing.
So incredibly grateful for John being here and being so incredibly helpful with everything. I have never been with someone so extraordinarily loving and attentive. I have to be careful even so because I forget I have to just focus on my work and can't be attempting to take care of him right now, too. But that's hard. Not because of John, I hasten to add, but because of pressure I put on myself. However, because John is here, he gives me: back rubs, dinner, coffee in bed, a sympathetic ear and relief from endless household tasks and sweet relief from the anxiety of my true love's absence.
We're getting through the bumpy bits and it's just wonderful to know he's here for a while. Visa process still pending but on its way. I've never felt so comfortable with another human being, so it's easy to forget sometimes how new this situation is. Wouldn't trade it for anything!
Some things I'm also grateful for: that we in NYC voted for Bill de Blasio for Mayor. Hopefully that signals some positive change in the city. My Fordham students' writing is getting better. This delights me.
Sad about the passing of Lou Reed, stunned by beauty of Laurie Anderson's farewell to him (if you haven't read it, do - it's in new issue of Rolling Stone and online). So glad these days to hear of true love and people who can even hold one another in the face of mortality.
Don't have more to say right now. Life is life. Life is love. Breathing is good for the soul. True love is also good for the soul and being able to live for a while with my true love is even better!
Saturday, October 19, 2013
Some great news & much gratitude
Apologies for not keeping up the blogging recently, but life has just been getting better and bigger and - well - busier.
Good news in terms of my body-mental health is that I have been going to yoga weekly and that has made a huge difference. I am hoping to graduate to twice a week, but am glad to have at least followed up on such a great experience. I've been told that when you have studied yoga before, which I have, if you start up again your body snaps back into shape pretty quickly, which has been my experience. So grateful for that. Also love that I am happy being challenged and feeling my body getting into better shape consequently. But, because the teacher knows the spiritual side of yoga as much as the asanas, this is not some glorified pilates class either. (Nothing wrong with pilates! It's just I like my yoga connected to its source is all...)
The other kind of amazing news is that I was hired this week by Rena Gill, the widow and literary executor of Stefan Brecht, to edit her late husband's writing on Richard Foreman into a book to be published by Methuen next year. I cannot begin to explain how much this means to me on many levels, especially because I have known since I was approached about this project a few months ago, that this job and I are made for each other.
I read and enjoyed Brecht's writing when in college in relation to research on The Open Theater and The Living Theater. I love Foreman's work, which I know quite well (and have discussed in this blog) and interviewed him for my Ph.D. (in which I argued that theater can be an act of philosophy). That interview will be published soon in Foreman's Manifestos & Essays.
This job requires editing down 800,000+ words to 200,000 or less words for the book, which is not dissimilar to the issue I faced having to pare down my own Ph.D. to 60,000 words from who knows how many (in the British university system there are word limits unlike in the U.S.)
This editing job is also of enormous interest to me, because Brecht had a Ph.D. in philosophy so his intersection with Foreman who is a deeply philosophical artist is golden from my own research-perspective. The writing is about the earlier period of Foreman's work that I did not see (early 70s-mid-80s), because I was either too young or - in the case of the early 80s - too ignorant. Brecht's writing is documentary in its detail, so I am excited to view this period of Foreman's development through such a sensitive, observant lens.
However, in the end, I am deeply humbled by this task and the fact that Rena has entrusted it to me. I do not take that trust lightly. I finally feel that there is a reason I went through the hell of the Ph.D. process, because it prepared me to for this job. If I hadn't gone through that editing, pruning and refining process (which was excruciatingly painful even if necessary), I would never feel confident enough to take on this task. So, in case my poor, endlessly patient supervisors ever read this blog, thank you Jane and Franc for seeing me through!
Because of all this, the last excellent news item - saving the best for last - is that John can visit more often and for longer now because we can afford it. He is transferring to work he can do in Canada but in the virtual world so he can travel more easily, so while I have a kind of humongous task ahead of me to complete in a very tight schedule, I will also have the love of my life here with me for much of that time. This makes us both deliriously happy and grateful.
Love, art and philosophy prevail! It doesn't get much better than this.
Good news in terms of my body-mental health is that I have been going to yoga weekly and that has made a huge difference. I am hoping to graduate to twice a week, but am glad to have at least followed up on such a great experience. I've been told that when you have studied yoga before, which I have, if you start up again your body snaps back into shape pretty quickly, which has been my experience. So grateful for that. Also love that I am happy being challenged and feeling my body getting into better shape consequently. But, because the teacher knows the spiritual side of yoga as much as the asanas, this is not some glorified pilates class either. (Nothing wrong with pilates! It's just I like my yoga connected to its source is all...)
The other kind of amazing news is that I was hired this week by Rena Gill, the widow and literary executor of Stefan Brecht, to edit her late husband's writing on Richard Foreman into a book to be published by Methuen next year. I cannot begin to explain how much this means to me on many levels, especially because I have known since I was approached about this project a few months ago, that this job and I are made for each other.
I read and enjoyed Brecht's writing when in college in relation to research on The Open Theater and The Living Theater. I love Foreman's work, which I know quite well (and have discussed in this blog) and interviewed him for my Ph.D. (in which I argued that theater can be an act of philosophy). That interview will be published soon in Foreman's Manifestos & Essays.
This job requires editing down 800,000+ words to 200,000 or less words for the book, which is not dissimilar to the issue I faced having to pare down my own Ph.D. to 60,000 words from who knows how many (in the British university system there are word limits unlike in the U.S.)
This editing job is also of enormous interest to me, because Brecht had a Ph.D. in philosophy so his intersection with Foreman who is a deeply philosophical artist is golden from my own research-perspective. The writing is about the earlier period of Foreman's work that I did not see (early 70s-mid-80s), because I was either too young or - in the case of the early 80s - too ignorant. Brecht's writing is documentary in its detail, so I am excited to view this period of Foreman's development through such a sensitive, observant lens.
However, in the end, I am deeply humbled by this task and the fact that Rena has entrusted it to me. I do not take that trust lightly. I finally feel that there is a reason I went through the hell of the Ph.D. process, because it prepared me to for this job. If I hadn't gone through that editing, pruning and refining process (which was excruciatingly painful even if necessary), I would never feel confident enough to take on this task. So, in case my poor, endlessly patient supervisors ever read this blog, thank you Jane and Franc for seeing me through!
Because of all this, the last excellent news item - saving the best for last - is that John can visit more often and for longer now because we can afford it. He is transferring to work he can do in Canada but in the virtual world so he can travel more easily, so while I have a kind of humongous task ahead of me to complete in a very tight schedule, I will also have the love of my life here with me for much of that time. This makes us both deliriously happy and grateful.
Love, art and philosophy prevail! It doesn't get much better than this.
Sunday, October 6, 2013
Yoga - I forgot!
I took a very intense yoga class today and it changed my life. I've taken yoga classes for years but for the past few days I was feeling very anxious about many things and thought I was in pretty bad shape.
Then I took this yoga class at the suggestion of my friend Andrea. At the time I thought: OK, this is good for me but well whatever...but now a number of hours later, it's magic. I am thinking, feeling, seeing everything so much more clearly.
Hooray!
Lots of other stuff is complicated right now, but this is not...and John and I are beginning to see paths and clearings where before we were only seeing obstacles to being together more than we are apart.
Thank you, Keshava! (He was the teacher who I loathed when in downward dog for Way Too Long...but now, he's my hero.)
Thank you, Andrea, for getting me there...and...last but not least...
Thank you, Downtown C train for arriving before I chickened out and went back uptown to take a nap.
Here's hoping I keep going back for more....
Then I took this yoga class at the suggestion of my friend Andrea. At the time I thought: OK, this is good for me but well whatever...but now a number of hours later, it's magic. I am thinking, feeling, seeing everything so much more clearly.
Hooray!
Lots of other stuff is complicated right now, but this is not...and John and I are beginning to see paths and clearings where before we were only seeing obstacles to being together more than we are apart.
Thank you, Keshava! (He was the teacher who I loathed when in downward dog for Way Too Long...but now, he's my hero.)
Thank you, Andrea, for getting me there...and...last but not least...
Thank you, Downtown C train for arriving before I chickened out and went back uptown to take a nap.
Here's hoping I keep going back for more....
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
2 years back in NYC, 3 months married & more everyday miracles
So while the government has shut down, figured I'd celebrate some nice anniversaries. Yesterday technically (Sept. 30) I arrived back in NYC two years ago. My stuff arrived a couple months later, but I started teaching at Bronx Community College the next day. It was quite a whirlwind. I wrote about it here of course, and someday when I have the time, I'll go back and read what I wrote.
I'm sorry to have not written a post in a while, but it's been kinda busy with teaching and some other exciting projects hopefully coming to fruition and visiting my mother in Maine for her birthday. John was able to visit two times this past month, so that was great, too. More than great actually...I miss him so terribly right now. I cannot believe - still - that it takes 7-8 months for him to get a visa Even Though We're Married and he's from Canada (Canada, people! Canada?!). Now with the government shut down, God only knows...
However, in other news, one of the reasons John came down again this month was to go to the doctor with me regarding fertility issues, and as can be expected at 50, things are not looking good in that area. I was sad about that, however it was good to get the information. We can't afford the crazy expensive alternatives, so decided it was time to let the idea of having a child go.
Then, in the way things tend to work in my life, as soon as I've accepted something, another avenue appears. When flying back from Maine to NYC, my seat mate told me that he and his partner had just adopted a gorgeous little baby girl. I asked him how that had worked and apparently it was through the foster system. I had no idea adoptions ever occurred that way, but assumed there was some type of fee. No, there isn't. He was very encouraging. He and his partner are gay and assumed there would be prejudice, which there wasn't. I asked him if they'd think I was too old and he said no. He said that their case workers asked them to send friends their way and he gave me his contact details, which was quite generous. So, a possibility appears. Amazing, right? Will keep you all posted...
Meanwhile, I have not been able to work on the grandmothers book in way too long. I look forward to the day I can return to it. Life has just been full to bursting with other things.
It's late so I'm going to keep this short, but I want to say: hooray for being married for 3 months! While I will be far happier when we can finally live together, I still count July 1, 2013 as the happiest & best day of my life so far. I think the only day that will beat that will be the day John and I can actually live together permanently. I know - I ask for so much....
As for my 2 years in NYC, wow. I am so glad I moved back here, even though the government is insane and America is...what it is...NYC is my home and always will be. The one place in the UK I miss so much it makes my teeth hurt is the Orkney Islands (the islands north of Scotland). I am hoping to get back there to visit as soon as possible. I delayed that this year because of love & borders and would make that choice again, but my dearest hope is that I can return soon with John.
But, overall, life is good. I have found true love with another human being and am finding that allows me to reach out for the work I love, too. I've never felt so strong in my life, because no matter what I try, I know that love is there, so nothing is life or death. It's a glorious feeling and one I've never experienced until now. Wish I had managed to find it earlier in my life, but so entirely grateful it's come my way at all.
I wish this for everyone, because it feels like the meaning of life, if such a term even encompasses what I want to say - maybe more like touching the infinite in the manifest world. The miracle of unconditional love.
I'm sorry to have not written a post in a while, but it's been kinda busy with teaching and some other exciting projects hopefully coming to fruition and visiting my mother in Maine for her birthday. John was able to visit two times this past month, so that was great, too. More than great actually...I miss him so terribly right now. I cannot believe - still - that it takes 7-8 months for him to get a visa Even Though We're Married and he's from Canada (Canada, people! Canada?!). Now with the government shut down, God only knows...
However, in other news, one of the reasons John came down again this month was to go to the doctor with me regarding fertility issues, and as can be expected at 50, things are not looking good in that area. I was sad about that, however it was good to get the information. We can't afford the crazy expensive alternatives, so decided it was time to let the idea of having a child go.
Then, in the way things tend to work in my life, as soon as I've accepted something, another avenue appears. When flying back from Maine to NYC, my seat mate told me that he and his partner had just adopted a gorgeous little baby girl. I asked him how that had worked and apparently it was through the foster system. I had no idea adoptions ever occurred that way, but assumed there was some type of fee. No, there isn't. He was very encouraging. He and his partner are gay and assumed there would be prejudice, which there wasn't. I asked him if they'd think I was too old and he said no. He said that their case workers asked them to send friends their way and he gave me his contact details, which was quite generous. So, a possibility appears. Amazing, right? Will keep you all posted...
Meanwhile, I have not been able to work on the grandmothers book in way too long. I look forward to the day I can return to it. Life has just been full to bursting with other things.
It's late so I'm going to keep this short, but I want to say: hooray for being married for 3 months! While I will be far happier when we can finally live together, I still count July 1, 2013 as the happiest & best day of my life so far. I think the only day that will beat that will be the day John and I can actually live together permanently. I know - I ask for so much....
As for my 2 years in NYC, wow. I am so glad I moved back here, even though the government is insane and America is...what it is...NYC is my home and always will be. The one place in the UK I miss so much it makes my teeth hurt is the Orkney Islands (the islands north of Scotland). I am hoping to get back there to visit as soon as possible. I delayed that this year because of love & borders and would make that choice again, but my dearest hope is that I can return soon with John.
But, overall, life is good. I have found true love with another human being and am finding that allows me to reach out for the work I love, too. I've never felt so strong in my life, because no matter what I try, I know that love is there, so nothing is life or death. It's a glorious feeling and one I've never experienced until now. Wish I had managed to find it earlier in my life, but so entirely grateful it's come my way at all.
I wish this for everyone, because it feels like the meaning of life, if such a term even encompasses what I want to say - maybe more like touching the infinite in the manifest world. The miracle of unconditional love.
Saturday, September 7, 2013
Creating breathing space & recognizing family
So, I was going to rush around today like the proverbial headless chicken, but decided against that. This happened because my body needed rest and during meditation I remembered a technique taught to me by a wonderful man named Josiah Hincks, which he learned from Eugene Gendlin, called 'focusing.' Gendlin wrote a book about his invention, so I suggest you read it for proper details, but the basic idea is that instead of retracing the well-worn grooves of your own worry-machine, you step back and look at the feelings attached to habituated ideas until you can feel what the feelings actually are and what they may be telling you. This requires surrendering your ideas of what any given feeling or thought indicates, in other words your own private gallery of cliches. Finding the 'handle' - the name for the feeling that resonates and expands rather than contracts inside you - is a key element here.
(As I typed the above, the salsa machine just cranked up outside my window. I live in a Dominican neighborhood in NYC and this is just part of life. My initial response is shoulders up annoyance, because it is Really Loud...Then I breathe and remember: I chose to live here. If I don't like it, I can leave - well, sort of, I can't afford the rents anywhere else, but still...the point is...the neighborhood majority consensus is that this is fun, not annoying...however, at times like this, I feel very stereotypically white, Northern European, speaking of cliches...)
OK, so back to my more relaxed day (ha ha!) and focusing. This exercise does work and I was able to wend my way through some things that were bothering me into a more relaxed idea of how to walk through this day. Which has led to this moment to write in the blog, which has been laying fallow for a while.
A brief recap of events:
I spent a crazy-wonderful time getting the syllabus together for my writing class at Fordham. Some people thought I was downright nuts for spending so much time creating a syllabus for a composition class, but I did it anyway and am Very glad I did. The first class went well because of it, and I could talk the students through the syllabus knowing it made sense as a whole and was not a series of episodic exercises signifying nothing...as it were...I want them to go on a journey, because writing is that if it is nothing else. You can't write if you can't think and there are aspects of thinking that are impossible if you can't write.
I like my students very much. I'm teaching the adult class in the evening, so most of the students have life experience, a level of maturity and focus because of this. There is a wonderful diversity of backgrounds and I expect the experience of hearing their voices to be a rich and rewarding one. My dearest hope is that they can learn from each other as much as me, and my most cherished hope is that they will all become better writers by the end of the class.
I did do a little work on my grandmothers book, but this has had to go on back burner right now for a number of reasons, including trying to get some other writing into various journals, etc.
(OK, cancel the salsa party bit, I just realized looking outside, this is a block party of some sort, but led by people in suits, so I think it's a Christian thing. That would account for the sort of sappy sound of the music, which was missing the usual hip-swiveling bass-beat. Wow. OK, so like I'll be leaving soon, and pray to my God/dess that this event ends before the wee hours of the night...the big advantage of Christian stuff, one hopes, is that it will not attempt to compete with after-hours clubs...)
This past week, I spent with my beloved Canadian husband, including a gorgeous day at the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens (what an amazing place - I've been there before, but as with so much, when I am with John I feel I'm seeing more beauty than usual or somehow giving myself time to Notice - what a gift of love). It's so hard to only see him a few days a month, but we do try to make the best out of it when he's here.
In other news, I am in the middle of a theater conference here in NYC, one event of which I am not attending right now, because of the aforesaid desire to not race around. But will be finishing this post up soon in order to go to some other stuff this evening. 'Theater as Theory' is the conference theme and we invited participants are meant to respond to performances this weekend with performances and/or papers, talks, etc. of our own next weekend. I like this idea very much. My Ph.D. argued that theater can be seen as an act of philosophy, so obviously I sympathize with this conference's agenda. I'm glad, too, to see something like this here in the US, as most of it I saw was in UK. I fear events that are more theory than theater, but them's the chances you have to take when walking this weird road.
(OK, heard a mic check, so this could be a revival meeting OR perhaps a political rally - elections are on Tuesday for our primaries...as you can tell, by all this muttering on my part, I don't speak Spanish, so am guessing, using non-verbal signs...from the 5th floor...)
So, will keep you informed as to whatever performance I may do in response next weekend, dates and times, etc. There are a lot of interesting folks attending, so there should be some interesting work. The events will be open to the public and at Glasshouse Project in deepest, darkest hipster Williamsburg, but if you can stand the block glasses and day-glo skinny jeans set, it may be worth it.
Finally, before I forget, yesterday I was so moved by a Rosh Hashana service I was invited to by a dear friend who was giving a sermon about redemption using her own personal experience. I cried through the whole damn thing. I've never been in a synagogue before, and I'm here to tell you, they are Gorgeous. The whole service was moving, my friend's part especially, but the rituals involved, the remembrance of the dead, the Kaddish, the lighting of candles, the Ark, well...it's just breathtaking. I was able to simply sit and cry about 9/11 in a way I have not had the space to do so anywhere else, watching two families who had lost their dad/husband/brother in the towers light candles in remembrance of their loved ones and other members of the congregation who had also died that day. A simple, profound and deeply human gesture.
This was a reform synagogue so some of the rabbis were women and much of the language in English translation is gender-neutralized. Therefore, I was able to hear the message of needing to hold hands to move through the darkness. Such a heart-healing idea and one that is deeply in synch with my own spiritual practices that involve an interconnected community. I am stunned by the Humanity of Judaism, which seems to somehow embrace our frailties rather than run screaming from them or ask us to somehow, become impossibly divine ourselves. The idea of "god-wrestling" (meaning arguing with/struggling with as Job does, e.g.) is sanctified and I love that.
So, I thank you my dear friend, Elinor, for sharing this day with me and your whole family for embracing me.
I am also a theater director, so could appreciate, too, that the Days of Awe (i.e., Rosh Hashana: New Year to Yom Kippur: Day of Atonement) are damn, good theater. I could see the seeds of much of American theater in this service, including musical theater (lots of amazing singing) and dearest to my heart, the experimental theater of Richard Foreman. I knew he considered himself a religious theater-maker and identifies strongly as Jewish, but seeing the aesthetics of the synagogue and the rhythm of the service allowed a whole new part of his work to land for me in a deeply emotional, spiritual place. So, kids, if you're into Foreman's work and have never been to a synagogue, go. It'll make a lot of his work fall into place.
So, now to a theater conference in Williamsburg...to see what there is to see...Life continues to surprise at age 50 and long may it continue (both life and its surprises). I don't have actual children, so watching young folks make their new scene and work is heartening for me in a special way. This is my family, these are my 'off-spring' (and ancestors) - these god/theater-wrestlers - those who search without ceasing because what we are looking for is always just that little bit out of reach...Complacency isn't an option. Usually there is little to no security in this life, but there is great freedom without which we would perish.
I'll know you when I see you on the road. And you'll know me. I look forward to our meeting.
(As I typed the above, the salsa machine just cranked up outside my window. I live in a Dominican neighborhood in NYC and this is just part of life. My initial response is shoulders up annoyance, because it is Really Loud...Then I breathe and remember: I chose to live here. If I don't like it, I can leave - well, sort of, I can't afford the rents anywhere else, but still...the point is...the neighborhood majority consensus is that this is fun, not annoying...however, at times like this, I feel very stereotypically white, Northern European, speaking of cliches...)
OK, so back to my more relaxed day (ha ha!) and focusing. This exercise does work and I was able to wend my way through some things that were bothering me into a more relaxed idea of how to walk through this day. Which has led to this moment to write in the blog, which has been laying fallow for a while.
A brief recap of events:
I spent a crazy-wonderful time getting the syllabus together for my writing class at Fordham. Some people thought I was downright nuts for spending so much time creating a syllabus for a composition class, but I did it anyway and am Very glad I did. The first class went well because of it, and I could talk the students through the syllabus knowing it made sense as a whole and was not a series of episodic exercises signifying nothing...as it were...I want them to go on a journey, because writing is that if it is nothing else. You can't write if you can't think and there are aspects of thinking that are impossible if you can't write.
I like my students very much. I'm teaching the adult class in the evening, so most of the students have life experience, a level of maturity and focus because of this. There is a wonderful diversity of backgrounds and I expect the experience of hearing their voices to be a rich and rewarding one. My dearest hope is that they can learn from each other as much as me, and my most cherished hope is that they will all become better writers by the end of the class.
I did do a little work on my grandmothers book, but this has had to go on back burner right now for a number of reasons, including trying to get some other writing into various journals, etc.
(OK, cancel the salsa party bit, I just realized looking outside, this is a block party of some sort, but led by people in suits, so I think it's a Christian thing. That would account for the sort of sappy sound of the music, which was missing the usual hip-swiveling bass-beat. Wow. OK, so like I'll be leaving soon, and pray to my God/dess that this event ends before the wee hours of the night...the big advantage of Christian stuff, one hopes, is that it will not attempt to compete with after-hours clubs...)
This past week, I spent with my beloved Canadian husband, including a gorgeous day at the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens (what an amazing place - I've been there before, but as with so much, when I am with John I feel I'm seeing more beauty than usual or somehow giving myself time to Notice - what a gift of love). It's so hard to only see him a few days a month, but we do try to make the best out of it when he's here.
In other news, I am in the middle of a theater conference here in NYC, one event of which I am not attending right now, because of the aforesaid desire to not race around. But will be finishing this post up soon in order to go to some other stuff this evening. 'Theater as Theory' is the conference theme and we invited participants are meant to respond to performances this weekend with performances and/or papers, talks, etc. of our own next weekend. I like this idea very much. My Ph.D. argued that theater can be seen as an act of philosophy, so obviously I sympathize with this conference's agenda. I'm glad, too, to see something like this here in the US, as most of it I saw was in UK. I fear events that are more theory than theater, but them's the chances you have to take when walking this weird road.
(OK, heard a mic check, so this could be a revival meeting OR perhaps a political rally - elections are on Tuesday for our primaries...as you can tell, by all this muttering on my part, I don't speak Spanish, so am guessing, using non-verbal signs...from the 5th floor...)
So, will keep you informed as to whatever performance I may do in response next weekend, dates and times, etc. There are a lot of interesting folks attending, so there should be some interesting work. The events will be open to the public and at Glasshouse Project in deepest, darkest hipster Williamsburg, but if you can stand the block glasses and day-glo skinny jeans set, it may be worth it.
Finally, before I forget, yesterday I was so moved by a Rosh Hashana service I was invited to by a dear friend who was giving a sermon about redemption using her own personal experience. I cried through the whole damn thing. I've never been in a synagogue before, and I'm here to tell you, they are Gorgeous. The whole service was moving, my friend's part especially, but the rituals involved, the remembrance of the dead, the Kaddish, the lighting of candles, the Ark, well...it's just breathtaking. I was able to simply sit and cry about 9/11 in a way I have not had the space to do so anywhere else, watching two families who had lost their dad/husband/brother in the towers light candles in remembrance of their loved ones and other members of the congregation who had also died that day. A simple, profound and deeply human gesture.
This was a reform synagogue so some of the rabbis were women and much of the language in English translation is gender-neutralized. Therefore, I was able to hear the message of needing to hold hands to move through the darkness. Such a heart-healing idea and one that is deeply in synch with my own spiritual practices that involve an interconnected community. I am stunned by the Humanity of Judaism, which seems to somehow embrace our frailties rather than run screaming from them or ask us to somehow, become impossibly divine ourselves. The idea of "god-wrestling" (meaning arguing with/struggling with as Job does, e.g.) is sanctified and I love that.
So, I thank you my dear friend, Elinor, for sharing this day with me and your whole family for embracing me.
So, now to a theater conference in Williamsburg...to see what there is to see...Life continues to surprise at age 50 and long may it continue (both life and its surprises). I don't have actual children, so watching young folks make their new scene and work is heartening for me in a special way. This is my family, these are my 'off-spring' (and ancestors) - these god/theater-wrestlers - those who search without ceasing because what we are looking for is always just that little bit out of reach...Complacency isn't an option. Usually there is little to no security in this life, but there is great freedom without which we would perish.
I'll know you when I see you on the road. And you'll know me. I look forward to our meeting.
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