Sunday, February 06, 2005
life is all karaoke
Standing on the edge of a crisis
we decide to raise our own voices
consider that the sound is our own
and the fact our feet grow up from the ground
this is where I wanna be
this is who I wanna be
so they get my voice
but they can they can never get my soul
there's a million things about me you will never know
like they caught me on video
and they caught me on radio
they caught me on video, radio, stereo.
Freedom
from the mighty sky to the ground she said
you've got the freedom to walk out
if they drag you down.
-Tegan & Sara, "Freedom"
I just went to see a play called The Empty Orchestra. I was working as a volunteer usher, so I had to leave stunting early (so sad!) and get there before the show started. One of my friends (I just realised how convuluted our relationship really is -- she is my neighbour's son's ex-girlfriend) was the stage manager, and since I have been to many of her shows (she is an amazing actress) I figured I could offer my very limited skills as an usher to her latest project. I have great respect for independent theatre projects, especially the kind where everyone -- friends, relatives, ex-boyfriends' neighbours' friends -- helps out and has everything invested in the show's success. I remember the vibe of theatre community so well -- it's kind of a magical thing and I'm glad it's still thriving, even if I'm not often around to witness it anymore.
I felt pretty good on the way home from the play tonight. I was listening to the above Tegan & Sara song, which had added significance in the context of a play about music and freedom and how the two connect. Music is one of my greatest joys in life, and one of the things that makes me feel the most alive and the most liberated, and I felt so warm and fuzzy with those thoughts that I wasn't even bothered by the bar-and-club crowds downtown tonight. I'm glad I went to see it, and glad I helped in whatever small way I could.
Anyway, my stage manager/actress friend and the remarkable productions I've seen her in is one of the many reasons why I decided to take a risk and go to audition for the Firefly Project. It too looks a bit grassroots, which promises to be interesting. I'm trying to memorize the two page monologue and two poems they sent me. I have stupidly left most of it until the day before the audition, so I have some serious catching up to do.
In other news, the hour and a bit of stunting I got to do tonight was pretty good, all things considered. Two of the vets who are competing at Best of the West next week were there, plus another guy base who is really good (and nice to me!) and two of the tumblers. It was the lowest turnout I have ever seen in that place. Only five of us, and only three out of those were stunters. The good thing about it was that I got to do basically whatever I wanted with the best top (a cute girl I will call Abby), and two very good bases (one of whom is Abby's boyfriend and fairly intense/possessive, but the other one is really sweet). I practiced my usual hands and extensions, which are getting better but SLOWLY since it's so rare that I get to stunt for an extended period of time with people who know what they're doing. The best part was when I asked Don (nice base) about my extension form, and he told me that the Boy has good form and I should go ask him! HA! I spend days and nights and hours and hours with him and have never thought to ask "gee...how much should I bend my knees in my extensions?" Never even occurred to me.
Both Abby and Intense Base were a little off tonight. He kept making insanely loud utterances whenever he messed something up, and she kept alternately getting very upset and announcing that she needed a break. They are a week away from competition, and I can only hope that I helped more than hindered their efforts. I got the impression that they didn't mind stunting with me -- they kept asking if I wanted a go, so what was I going to do, tell them maybe next time? No bloody way. All I could do was spot their insane stunts, try not to hurt Abby (tops are a precious commodity), and try not to take long turns. They all gave me advice and weren't harsh with me, so I feel like it wasn't a total P.R. disaster.
I have shitloads of crap to do tomorrow (what a lovely picture), but I feel a bit more directed at the moment.
I guess that music makes the people come together.
Who says Madonna never had anything meaningful to say?
Cheers,
N
