There is nothing like a good creative stretch when work just comes spilling out. It feels so productive and energizing and when I'm in the middle of one of these periods it can be easy to forget that I had ever concerned myself with mundane details like food and laundry. I can become quite frustrated with having to deal with everyday activities when I'm on a roll. Then it gets worse when the creative river dries up and all that I am left with is a pile of laundry and a refrigerator in desperate need of being refilled. Not to mention a husband and child who are in need of some attention as well.
I am starting to think of these lulls as a necessary part of my creative cycle. This is helping with my level of resentment once my pen runs dry. Incubation periods are necessary. If it weren't for these periods with ideas and observations clanking around in my head the creative times would not happen at all. It can be hard to be thankful for these frustratingly slow periods when I'm in the middle of them, but I need to learn to appreciate them.
Of course what makes these lulls so frustrating is the fear that I'm finished. What if my magnum opus was that dance piece I did in school with the 6'6" dancing female reproductive system with maracas for ovaries? What if that's all I've got in me? Ever? Intellectually I know that those fears are just a sign that I need to take a break. I need to relax and pick some blackberries with some good friends on a mountainside in Vermont.
So that is exactly what I am going to do.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Spiderman or Marvelling at Marvel
After an eye opening trip to the comic book store down the street and two evenings of watching Spiderman movies with my son (both of which I have seen a few times before) I am starting to have a new appreciation for super heroes and what they mean to young (and much older) boys. Certainly I have spent some time in the comic book and super hero trenches in order to win the affections of various sinewy limbed young lads with uncombed hair and untucked shirts, but I never really understood the attraction. Of course I could make the intellectual arguments about how these stories adhere to the 'hero's journey' tradition in folklore and appreciate how each villian and each hero has very personal motivations and yadda yadda yadda. I loved how there was always a tiny thread that separated the villian from the hero and the conflicts were always epic in scope. Just like the great myths I was taught to admire.
What I didn't get and am only begining to understand is the instructive quality in the hero's journey. This is something, as a woman that is saddled with much different cultural expectations, that I am excited to learn.
Now, I must preface this by pointing out where most current educational wisdom stands on this issue. I'm sure just about anyone who grew up in America understands the general attitude toward comic books. They're like candy. The assumption is that they have little literary substance and that they are just a step above watching television. You will find that preschools that cater to upwardly mobile, college educated families have policies that specifically restrict super hero play. The reasoning behind this is that the establishment considers super hero play to be "limiting" and that it does not allow the child to stretch their imaginations. When I had my brief stint running a preschool curriculum I swallowed this hook line and sinker. I am now starting to re-think my position as it seems to me this wisdom comes from a very "feminine" position, and it may not necessarily be right for boys. It certainly wouldn't be right for my boy.
First let me attack the idea that the play is too "limiting" because there are certain ideas about who the characters are from the get go and that, educators assume, leaves little room for the children to create on their own. If this is true, then how has the Commedia d'el Arte survived? In the commedia there are a certain number of archetypes and there is a definite form to them. Do acting schools touch on the commedia only to give their students a taste of theatrical history? Surely that must be a part of it, but another part is that there is great freedom within the form. Once there is an understanding of the archetype there are an infinte number of ways to play with that character and students of the art have found great joy and freedom while exploring these archetypes within themselves. It isn't the character that is limiting. Rather than ban the character we should seek to challenge assumptions about the character and about good and evil, responsibility and power because that is what a good comic book does. That is what a superhero that lasts does. The super hero looks to express and explore what it means to be a man and is often a cautionary tale for how easy it is for a man to go astray.
Since I have Spiderman on the brain, let's deal with him, shall we?
Peter Parker (and most of the major classic super heroes) operates from a distinctly male fear- if I share what I am it will endanger those I love most. While this fear manifests itself literally in the story lines (the villians always use the girlfriend as leverage) this emotional spectre has always been lurking somewhere on the horizon for most of the males I've known. He loves deeply, but for the safety of those he loves he must wall off a part of himself. The super hero has great power, but he is ultimately doomed to lonely life, constantly on guard against super villains and the demons within.
While Peter Parker has a distinct moral center the way forward for him is shadowy at best. His sense of responsibility is often at odds with his personal needs and desires and yet his sense of duty always wins out but not without a great inner struggle. Spiderman has great agility and strength, but the stronger he is the more he has to defend. The tragedy of the story is that his incredible ability isolates him and makes him, and those he loves, more vulnerable
So what is my son learning from Spiderman? Well, the circumstances are quite complex. I like the fact that no one is just plain evil. Every villian has suffered some loss or humiliation- there is always a defining moment that tells us where the human broke and crossed the line. He is also learning that being "good" is not easy and that even the strong and the brave can be tempted but that we always have choices. He already (at the age of 5) relates to the fear that I have mentioned- the fear of caring and being vulnerable is very real for him. Although Spiderman does not always make the best of choices in his personal life, we see him struggle to understand himself. I'd say that struggle is worth something.
Women say they want their men to be more open with their feelings but don't we secretly swoon when we watch Spiderman silently whisking Mary Jane away from danger? I'll admit it, I will take a quiet and firm arm around my waist over a love poem any day. One just means more than another. Super heroes understand that and maybe it isn't a bad thing for our boys to explore that, too. After all, I believe it is through stories that most of us learn about ourselves and the world around us. It is through stories that we can step outside of ourselves and look at circumstances, actions and consequences. Our boys need heroes through which they can understand themselves. It is our job, as parents and educators, to realize that our children have their own wisdom. They choose to focus on stories and characters that speak to them in a way we can't. We need not to ban super heroes but to put the heroes through their paces and allow discovery to happen. Dig deep into the characters and find out what it is that has captured the child's attention and then go a little deeper.
That is where the stories live.
What I didn't get and am only begining to understand is the instructive quality in the hero's journey. This is something, as a woman that is saddled with much different cultural expectations, that I am excited to learn.
Now, I must preface this by pointing out where most current educational wisdom stands on this issue. I'm sure just about anyone who grew up in America understands the general attitude toward comic books. They're like candy. The assumption is that they have little literary substance and that they are just a step above watching television. You will find that preschools that cater to upwardly mobile, college educated families have policies that specifically restrict super hero play. The reasoning behind this is that the establishment considers super hero play to be "limiting" and that it does not allow the child to stretch their imaginations. When I had my brief stint running a preschool curriculum I swallowed this hook line and sinker. I am now starting to re-think my position as it seems to me this wisdom comes from a very "feminine" position, and it may not necessarily be right for boys. It certainly wouldn't be right for my boy.
First let me attack the idea that the play is too "limiting" because there are certain ideas about who the characters are from the get go and that, educators assume, leaves little room for the children to create on their own. If this is true, then how has the Commedia d'el Arte survived? In the commedia there are a certain number of archetypes and there is a definite form to them. Do acting schools touch on the commedia only to give their students a taste of theatrical history? Surely that must be a part of it, but another part is that there is great freedom within the form. Once there is an understanding of the archetype there are an infinte number of ways to play with that character and students of the art have found great joy and freedom while exploring these archetypes within themselves. It isn't the character that is limiting. Rather than ban the character we should seek to challenge assumptions about the character and about good and evil, responsibility and power because that is what a good comic book does. That is what a superhero that lasts does. The super hero looks to express and explore what it means to be a man and is often a cautionary tale for how easy it is for a man to go astray.
Since I have Spiderman on the brain, let's deal with him, shall we?
Peter Parker (and most of the major classic super heroes) operates from a distinctly male fear- if I share what I am it will endanger those I love most. While this fear manifests itself literally in the story lines (the villians always use the girlfriend as leverage) this emotional spectre has always been lurking somewhere on the horizon for most of the males I've known. He loves deeply, but for the safety of those he loves he must wall off a part of himself. The super hero has great power, but he is ultimately doomed to lonely life, constantly on guard against super villains and the demons within.
While Peter Parker has a distinct moral center the way forward for him is shadowy at best. His sense of responsibility is often at odds with his personal needs and desires and yet his sense of duty always wins out but not without a great inner struggle. Spiderman has great agility and strength, but the stronger he is the more he has to defend. The tragedy of the story is that his incredible ability isolates him and makes him, and those he loves, more vulnerable
So what is my son learning from Spiderman? Well, the circumstances are quite complex. I like the fact that no one is just plain evil. Every villian has suffered some loss or humiliation- there is always a defining moment that tells us where the human broke and crossed the line. He is also learning that being "good" is not easy and that even the strong and the brave can be tempted but that we always have choices. He already (at the age of 5) relates to the fear that I have mentioned- the fear of caring and being vulnerable is very real for him. Although Spiderman does not always make the best of choices in his personal life, we see him struggle to understand himself. I'd say that struggle is worth something.
Women say they want their men to be more open with their feelings but don't we secretly swoon when we watch Spiderman silently whisking Mary Jane away from danger? I'll admit it, I will take a quiet and firm arm around my waist over a love poem any day. One just means more than another. Super heroes understand that and maybe it isn't a bad thing for our boys to explore that, too. After all, I believe it is through stories that most of us learn about ourselves and the world around us. It is through stories that we can step outside of ourselves and look at circumstances, actions and consequences. Our boys need heroes through which they can understand themselves. It is our job, as parents and educators, to realize that our children have their own wisdom. They choose to focus on stories and characters that speak to them in a way we can't. We need not to ban super heroes but to put the heroes through their paces and allow discovery to happen. Dig deep into the characters and find out what it is that has captured the child's attention and then go a little deeper.
That is where the stories live.
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Giving Direction/ Needing Direction
I had always hoped that I would have ended up being some flamboyant genius director. I wanted to be one of those revolutionary directors that could leave a welt on the text. I wanted to be visionary, loud and odd.
I'm not. The more I work as a director the more I feel I should just get out of the way. I'm starting to see my job as a director more akin to a goalie than a master artist. My job is to define the boundaries of the text and when an actor or designer gets too close to the edge my job is to kick 'em back into play.
I suppose it is more than that. Beyond defending the outer edges of the given circumstances I am also a good host. Rehearsals should be loose and enjoyable and I get to plan the working party. I suppose I also play cheerleader and mascot from time to time but other than that I don't do much. That used to bother me. I used to complain that I wasn't DOING anything and wasn't serving any useful purpose other than being a really good pre-audience laughter guage. I am a healthy laugher. But now I am seeing the subtle and quiet value of my fly on the wall style. Occassionally I give a ripping good note and I can be fairly insightful, but mostly I just watch. And when I am not watching I am pretty good at pinpointing the reasons why I am not watching. Those reasons are often the same reasons that will cause a general audience to go astray. So, I make note of it and decide how to relay that information to the actor in question. That's it. There really isn't much else to my job.
Except for my aesthetic sense, which I suppose is important. Just not day to day.
But I am learning that I cannot and should not direct myself. I freeze on myself all the time and I don't make choices. I don't know how anyone else does it. It is most definitely a skill I do not possess. You can't imagine how it pains me to say so! But, in the immortal words of Popeye, "I am what I am and that's all that I am".
Well, good. I'm glad I know that much. It keeps my head from getting too big.
Tomorrow night I will be stepping on stage in a role I would not be comfortable with if I had a million rehearsals. As it turns out, I've only had two. Due to a bizarre set of circumstances I find myself covering for an actor in the show I've been directing (see notice on the right) and I wish I had someone standing guard on the edges of the text to kick me back into play. In the two rehearsals that I've had I have paced over the same well-worn path and I am terrified of deviation. What if I get lost and there's no one to bring me back? What if, what if, what if? Sometimes, it's nice to know someone is looking out for you so you don't have to look out for yourself.
Thank God, though, that I've got some stellar actors that I know have my back.
Maybe I'll feel better about it next week.
I'm not. The more I work as a director the more I feel I should just get out of the way. I'm starting to see my job as a director more akin to a goalie than a master artist. My job is to define the boundaries of the text and when an actor or designer gets too close to the edge my job is to kick 'em back into play.
I suppose it is more than that. Beyond defending the outer edges of the given circumstances I am also a good host. Rehearsals should be loose and enjoyable and I get to plan the working party. I suppose I also play cheerleader and mascot from time to time but other than that I don't do much. That used to bother me. I used to complain that I wasn't DOING anything and wasn't serving any useful purpose other than being a really good pre-audience laughter guage. I am a healthy laugher. But now I am seeing the subtle and quiet value of my fly on the wall style. Occassionally I give a ripping good note and I can be fairly insightful, but mostly I just watch. And when I am not watching I am pretty good at pinpointing the reasons why I am not watching. Those reasons are often the same reasons that will cause a general audience to go astray. So, I make note of it and decide how to relay that information to the actor in question. That's it. There really isn't much else to my job.
Except for my aesthetic sense, which I suppose is important. Just not day to day.
But I am learning that I cannot and should not direct myself. I freeze on myself all the time and I don't make choices. I don't know how anyone else does it. It is most definitely a skill I do not possess. You can't imagine how it pains me to say so! But, in the immortal words of Popeye, "I am what I am and that's all that I am".
Well, good. I'm glad I know that much. It keeps my head from getting too big.
Tomorrow night I will be stepping on stage in a role I would not be comfortable with if I had a million rehearsals. As it turns out, I've only had two. Due to a bizarre set of circumstances I find myself covering for an actor in the show I've been directing (see notice on the right) and I wish I had someone standing guard on the edges of the text to kick me back into play. In the two rehearsals that I've had I have paced over the same well-worn path and I am terrified of deviation. What if I get lost and there's no one to bring me back? What if, what if, what if? Sometimes, it's nice to know someone is looking out for you so you don't have to look out for yourself.
Thank God, though, that I've got some stellar actors that I know have my back.
Maybe I'll feel better about it next week.
Monday, August 06, 2007
No Dignity in Needless Self-Torture
I once saw an interview with John Partick Shanley in which he bassically said that if a project isn't working and you feel miserable you should quit. This makes some sense and, for most people, would not have stood out as anything to remember. For me, however, it was revolutionary. I felt a pathway literally fire through my brain like a hot knife through butter. What do you mean, quit? Stop doing it? What?
The idea was foreign to me and I had to sit down and really think about what it means to be a woman of my word. I think many of us "dependable people" look at the world and see how others can be, well, less dependable. It makes us double our efforts, it makes us think that our dependablity makes us special. So, for me that means I will stick with a bad job or a bad project to the point of torturing myself. I am learning that part of having personal integrity is knowing when to say, 'there is a better person for this job than me'. It is okay to learn that you have limitations and it is okay to discover that you've made a wrong turn and you need to get back to the main road- fast. Sometimes it is okay to quit.
I recently had a pleasant conversation with someone who was overwhelmed by a certain responsibility. He felt he wasn't up to the task, but also felt that he was between a rock and a hard place because he assumed no one else could do the job. I heard the struggle inside him. I know he wanted to be shot of it. The job was just too big for him, bigger and harder than he could have imagined when he said yes to the job. The job made him feel miserable. The misery spilled out into his work. His work was not up to par. Everyone suffers in the group when one person is not up to the job. He quit. He felt guilty but much lighter once it was all over.
No, it is not okay to just quit because you're feeling diva and are bored. But if the job isn't right and if you aren't right for it, there is no shame in admitting it. There is great wisdom in knowing and understanding what it right for you. Now that I consider this lessson ( which I imagine I will be practicing for years to come) I feel a sense of freedom. I don't have to be chained to things that make me miserable simply because I want to be seen as dependable. I am not doing anyone any favors by sticking it out when there is probably someone who is just right for that job right around the corner.
The Universe wants us to be free. So choose it.
The idea was foreign to me and I had to sit down and really think about what it means to be a woman of my word. I think many of us "dependable people" look at the world and see how others can be, well, less dependable. It makes us double our efforts, it makes us think that our dependablity makes us special. So, for me that means I will stick with a bad job or a bad project to the point of torturing myself. I am learning that part of having personal integrity is knowing when to say, 'there is a better person for this job than me'. It is okay to learn that you have limitations and it is okay to discover that you've made a wrong turn and you need to get back to the main road- fast. Sometimes it is okay to quit.
I recently had a pleasant conversation with someone who was overwhelmed by a certain responsibility. He felt he wasn't up to the task, but also felt that he was between a rock and a hard place because he assumed no one else could do the job. I heard the struggle inside him. I know he wanted to be shot of it. The job was just too big for him, bigger and harder than he could have imagined when he said yes to the job. The job made him feel miserable. The misery spilled out into his work. His work was not up to par. Everyone suffers in the group when one person is not up to the job. He quit. He felt guilty but much lighter once it was all over.
No, it is not okay to just quit because you're feeling diva and are bored. But if the job isn't right and if you aren't right for it, there is no shame in admitting it. There is great wisdom in knowing and understanding what it right for you. Now that I consider this lessson ( which I imagine I will be practicing for years to come) I feel a sense of freedom. I don't have to be chained to things that make me miserable simply because I want to be seen as dependable. I am not doing anyone any favors by sticking it out when there is probably someone who is just right for that job right around the corner.
The Universe wants us to be free. So choose it.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Love to the MSP
I am devastated by the bridge collapse in Minneapolis last night. I am lucky, however, as my family and friends seem to have made it through the crisis unscathed. There are still a few unreturned phone calls, but the phone lines were jammed up last night and I am refusing to panic about it. The news this morning is that 20 people are reported missing and the odds of those being MY people, I hope, are slim. Even so, I can't help but feel violated.
Minnesota is supposed to be a safe place. I didn't realize how much I had counted on that until last night. I know that I, personally, have chosen to live one ring out from the Manhattan bullseye and I have come to terms with that. But I always figured that the fastidious Finns, Norewegians and Swedes would be able to keep my homestate safe from tragedy. What could ever happen in a state where they never run out of baked goods (ever), Target is always well stocked and you can always find antifreeze, lock de-icer and a customer service person who actually gives a damn about their job? Prince has famously said that he stays in Minnesota because "...the cold keeps bad people away".
Intellectually, I know our species is on borrowed time. I know that no place on earth is completely safe. But I always felt that, no matter what happens to me personally, that the people I love in Minnesota would be protected by their geography and their pleasantness. It shakes me to my core to see that is not necessarily so.
And then comes the exploitative news coverage.
They always have to push it over the edge, don't they? Like emotional vultures waiting on the scene for the river to cough up leftovers for them to devour. Reporting is one thing. Using this tragedy to speculate and spread fear about all the nation's bridges while they have their graphics department working overtime on bigger and better visuals to play on viewers' anxiety is nothing short of sick. I'm not saying that the integrity of our nation's infrastructure isn't worthy of reporting. What I am saying is that the way it is approached is tasteless and exploitative. It would be nice if reporters went out and found some news and reported it instead of waiting around for something that gets ratings and then mining the story until it is played out. What would have happened if reporters who were just out covering a beat had discovered that our infrastructure was in trouble and then told the public about it when NTSB had that assessment? What would have happened if reporters were covering something else besides Paris Hilton's jail time? What if our news media found something more important about its work than making a profit? What if the news media decided to take control and let its reporters report news instead of trying to follow the whims of a fickle and insecure public?
Am I blaming the news media for the bridge collapse? No. I doubt any newspaper article would have been able to call attention to the problem in the first place. It would be nice, though, if the media could be proactive instead of reactive. If it could be full of information instead of sensation. It would be nice if the public would demand more from the news media and turn off the crap news that just doesn't matter.
My brother was among the many phone calls I made last night. He's a lovable crumudgeon. I'll paraphrase a bit in his voice (because it's more fun for me that way) but he said, " Well you'll see what happens next. Politicians will be making laws against bridge collapses and blaming each other and wasting the tax payers time legislating on shit that doesn't need to be legislated. You see, I've always been against bridge collapses! I signed the anti-bridge collapsing bill but my opponent is clearly pro-bridge collapse. Check the record, he voted no on the anti-bridge collapsing bill! And my opponent hates puppies..." He's got a point. We have such a negative, reactionary and exploitative culture and what gets lost in the shuffle and the bluster and the self-importance are people. At least 20 people are missing in the river. 20 people from my home. I don't feel that the news media or politicians or the public at large give that the proper weight.
In fact, human life carries very little weight at all. Be it American, Sudanese, or Iraqi all life is in service of entertainment. Just wait until you see the next DATELINE: Survivor Stories and you hear the familiar cadence of the Chris Hanson voice over detailing the dramatic story of someone special who survived the collapse. They don't see the survivor. They see the survivor story- and that is different. Stories are important. I love them. I believe in them. I need them. But it is disconcerting when so many true stories are forced into the same cookie cutter format and sold prepackaged to a ravenous public that consumes so blindly and so completely. They're like army ants. They leave nothing but the bone.
My heart goes out to the MSP. There is nothing I can say that can calm the shock or take away the grief. No matter how far I roam Minnesota is where I am from.
Minnesota is supposed to be a safe place. I didn't realize how much I had counted on that until last night. I know that I, personally, have chosen to live one ring out from the Manhattan bullseye and I have come to terms with that. But I always figured that the fastidious Finns, Norewegians and Swedes would be able to keep my homestate safe from tragedy. What could ever happen in a state where they never run out of baked goods (ever), Target is always well stocked and you can always find antifreeze, lock de-icer and a customer service person who actually gives a damn about their job? Prince has famously said that he stays in Minnesota because "...the cold keeps bad people away".
Intellectually, I know our species is on borrowed time. I know that no place on earth is completely safe. But I always felt that, no matter what happens to me personally, that the people I love in Minnesota would be protected by their geography and their pleasantness. It shakes me to my core to see that is not necessarily so.
And then comes the exploitative news coverage.
They always have to push it over the edge, don't they? Like emotional vultures waiting on the scene for the river to cough up leftovers for them to devour. Reporting is one thing. Using this tragedy to speculate and spread fear about all the nation's bridges while they have their graphics department working overtime on bigger and better visuals to play on viewers' anxiety is nothing short of sick. I'm not saying that the integrity of our nation's infrastructure isn't worthy of reporting. What I am saying is that the way it is approached is tasteless and exploitative. It would be nice if reporters went out and found some news and reported it instead of waiting around for something that gets ratings and then mining the story until it is played out. What would have happened if reporters who were just out covering a beat had discovered that our infrastructure was in trouble and then told the public about it when NTSB had that assessment? What would have happened if reporters were covering something else besides Paris Hilton's jail time? What if our news media found something more important about its work than making a profit? What if the news media decided to take control and let its reporters report news instead of trying to follow the whims of a fickle and insecure public?
Am I blaming the news media for the bridge collapse? No. I doubt any newspaper article would have been able to call attention to the problem in the first place. It would be nice, though, if the media could be proactive instead of reactive. If it could be full of information instead of sensation. It would be nice if the public would demand more from the news media and turn off the crap news that just doesn't matter.
My brother was among the many phone calls I made last night. He's a lovable crumudgeon. I'll paraphrase a bit in his voice (because it's more fun for me that way) but he said, " Well you'll see what happens next. Politicians will be making laws against bridge collapses and blaming each other and wasting the tax payers time legislating on shit that doesn't need to be legislated. You see, I've always been against bridge collapses! I signed the anti-bridge collapsing bill but my opponent is clearly pro-bridge collapse. Check the record, he voted no on the anti-bridge collapsing bill! And my opponent hates puppies..." He's got a point. We have such a negative, reactionary and exploitative culture and what gets lost in the shuffle and the bluster and the self-importance are people. At least 20 people are missing in the river. 20 people from my home. I don't feel that the news media or politicians or the public at large give that the proper weight.
In fact, human life carries very little weight at all. Be it American, Sudanese, or Iraqi all life is in service of entertainment. Just wait until you see the next DATELINE: Survivor Stories and you hear the familiar cadence of the Chris Hanson voice over detailing the dramatic story of someone special who survived the collapse. They don't see the survivor. They see the survivor story- and that is different. Stories are important. I love them. I believe in them. I need them. But it is disconcerting when so many true stories are forced into the same cookie cutter format and sold prepackaged to a ravenous public that consumes so blindly and so completely. They're like army ants. They leave nothing but the bone.
My heart goes out to the MSP. There is nothing I can say that can calm the shock or take away the grief. No matter how far I roam Minnesota is where I am from.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
