Random Bits
So it's been, like, a hundred years. I suppose a lot has happened, but it's all so hard to quantify, I couldn't give much more than a snapshot, and I'm ambivalent about journal-posting.
I've had a birthday (35 now). My parents have been in town. I started and finished Zen Tales, an UMO project in which I adapted several Zen, Buddhist, and Sufi fables for the stage, which we then performed using aerial trapeze, yogic acrobalance, physical clowning, minimal stage combat, and judicious use of silence. (interesting side note: I love silence onstage, but audiences are usually less than thrilled. Our test audiences this time out, though--which included a fair number of children--actually ENJOYED the use of silence in this show, and many said they could have used more. Only goes to show you never know, as they say.) I think I may have put on a little weight, but I also think I may have taken some, maybe even most, back off.
For those of you not yet buying or subscribing to ALARM Magazine, this summer's edition features three articles by yours truly: an interview with Dungen, one with Sharon Jones, and another with Antibalas. There are a handful of reviews in there as well, though many that I wrote didn't make it in; perhaps I was over-featured in the articles (suffice it to say, then, since my review isn't there, that you should give Rebuilding the Rights of Statues a listen. I didn't know they were listening to Joy Division, Bauhaus, and the B-52s in Beijing, but I'm glad they were).
In a week-and-a-half, I begin work on my next project with UMO, another in which I'm serving as writer and actor/athlete; the subject, chosen by UMO founding member and project head David, is time, specifically the question of whether it exists or whether it's a construct to which we willingly enslave ourselves. I'm excited, scared, impatient, and not at all ready. What else is new?
'Stine just got her tattoo yesterday. It's lovely. I can't wait to see how it fades, blends, becomes one with the skin (instead of being something imposed on it, which is how all tattoos start out). It's funny that something picked for such science-geeky, alternative-medicinal, hippy-ish reasons gives off such a heavy metal vibe, but that's part of the charm and paradox of my lovely wife.
Other than that, what's to say? Still fighting the fight. Chanting more than usual. No longer in a class, martial-arts wise, but continuing to integrate new stuff I've learned with old favorites, keeping on the trajectory of attribute development, pursuing answers--or at least better questions--regarding the ever-evolving mystery of the body in space. Keeping tabs on all the mysteries, really: spirit in flesh, individual in community, iconoclasm in the middle class. What would you expect?
This was sort of an obligatory post to keep me on the radar. Hopefully I'll have something more specific and/or coherent soon. If not . . . well, at least you know I'm around.
I've had a birthday (35 now). My parents have been in town. I started and finished Zen Tales, an UMO project in which I adapted several Zen, Buddhist, and Sufi fables for the stage, which we then performed using aerial trapeze, yogic acrobalance, physical clowning, minimal stage combat, and judicious use of silence. (interesting side note: I love silence onstage, but audiences are usually less than thrilled. Our test audiences this time out, though--which included a fair number of children--actually ENJOYED the use of silence in this show, and many said they could have used more. Only goes to show you never know, as they say.) I think I may have put on a little weight, but I also think I may have taken some, maybe even most, back off.
For those of you not yet buying or subscribing to ALARM Magazine, this summer's edition features three articles by yours truly: an interview with Dungen, one with Sharon Jones, and another with Antibalas. There are a handful of reviews in there as well, though many that I wrote didn't make it in; perhaps I was over-featured in the articles (suffice it to say, then, since my review isn't there, that you should give Rebuilding the Rights of Statues a listen. I didn't know they were listening to Joy Division, Bauhaus, and the B-52s in Beijing, but I'm glad they were).
In a week-and-a-half, I begin work on my next project with UMO, another in which I'm serving as writer and actor/athlete; the subject, chosen by UMO founding member and project head David, is time, specifically the question of whether it exists or whether it's a construct to which we willingly enslave ourselves. I'm excited, scared, impatient, and not at all ready. What else is new?
'Stine just got her tattoo yesterday. It's lovely. I can't wait to see how it fades, blends, becomes one with the skin (instead of being something imposed on it, which is how all tattoos start out). It's funny that something picked for such science-geeky, alternative-medicinal, hippy-ish reasons gives off such a heavy metal vibe, but that's part of the charm and paradox of my lovely wife.
Other than that, what's to say? Still fighting the fight. Chanting more than usual. No longer in a class, martial-arts wise, but continuing to integrate new stuff I've learned with old favorites, keeping on the trajectory of attribute development, pursuing answers--or at least better questions--regarding the ever-evolving mystery of the body in space. Keeping tabs on all the mysteries, really: spirit in flesh, individual in community, iconoclasm in the middle class. What would you expect?
This was sort of an obligatory post to keep me on the radar. Hopefully I'll have something more specific and/or coherent soon. If not . . . well, at least you know I'm around.
posted by thelyamhound at 4:36 PM
6 comments
