meisner - day 4

not a comfortable day.

i blushed. and evidently it was the color of my vibrantly red shirt. that's a whole new level of blushing. thanks guys. it's all your fault. you provoked it, laid me bare. stripped me down for all to see.

not really. but it sure felt like it.

and as much as i could joke or nod or agree wryly, i find myself wrapped tightly, holding my self in and closing them out. keeping my layers secure. zippers up. laces tied. buttons fastened. generous nathania with so much freedom of expression and i just want to curl up in a fetal position and say damn you all for witnessing my shame. multiple times.

another student squirmed. a lot. perhaps they were even more uncomfortable. i hope i wasn't so restless in what i was feeling, but who knows. one of the observations was "you are resigned." and i was and wasn't at the same time. another student was so closed. a tightly clenched fist. fingertips like their heart completely turned in on itself. i have a softness for them both, even as i cringe. and why can't i extend that softness to myself?

hmm....what day is it? damn hormones. can't i just be on the other side of menopause? {she shakes her head.}

my two biggest insecurities: my height and my skin {you have a shiny forehead}. and really, i should qualify this to say that if i were suddenly 5' 6-9" tomorrow with alabaster skin, i would find some other thing to chanel my insecurities towards....my insecurity that is on a whole different dimension: my sexuality. we progressed to asking questions that the other repeats in order to distill responses. i was asked by a smug little punk: how old (or where) were you when you lost your virginity? and i had to repeat it, which i did after several moments of shiftingshrugginshirking and i think it was at least the second time i turned redredred in class. just on this day. not like i have a problem with the fact that i've had sex, or the story of that first time, or anything about it, but somehow, i was so exposed {all these men, watching me and judging, verdict: not in my favor}.

damn him. really. and not really. damn me. conflicted. yet again.

he said he would have asked anyone that question, but he knew what my response would be and he savored it and chose to stick with it despite the request for mercy in my eyes. i watched the enjoyment/playfulness/smugness in his eyes for what felt like an eternity of three or four seconds before he said it. the expected washed over me, and swept me away in my full body response and there was part of me that knew it could have been worse.

in the end, i know i don't really want to curtail the harder spaces, so there is part of me that is greatful sandpaper-to-my-heart sort of way. so, thanks, buddy? i really wish i would have gone with my impulse which was to retort with "why do you have to be a punk all the time?"

that is the lesson: should have gone with the impulse. the second time i checked it that night to the detriment of the work.

tomorrow is another day, and unfortunately, one where work still hates me.

and the only thing that's keeping me from going off the deepest deep end at work today

good ole' thom.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vUEwrwINSfY&NR=1

"music is about triggering memories for people"

i have to think on that one. interesting. i hadn't heard him say that nor had i linked how i resonate in music {particularly radiohead's} and how i explore/cling to/savor my memories. as their music carries me further and further into my life, certain songs will always liken back to specific memories even as they make the present more alive.

since my new iphone isn't broken and the extra text message rings are apart of the update i received with downloading 2.1, i would almost consider the 30 minutes i spent at the apple store last friday as a bust. except. i spent most of that 30 minutes talking to a worker/fellow radiohead fan about the band. she asked me what my favorite album was and i couldn't answer. each carries with it such particular memories and songs of vibrancy and inspiration that i just can't choose. my one impulse was to say in rainbows but only because that is of the moment. it is creating memories to tether to the vibrations it creates in me and i am more conscious of that process now than i was with hail to the thief or the eraser. this year has carried with it several distinct emotional journeys and the album helped grid and define that process in a unique way.



............actually, i think i have thought more about this link between their music and memory than i previously assumed. i remember blogging after the first performance of the man who came to dinner. i wanted to listen to radiohead, but i deliberately choose their new song super collider. i needed it because it is a radiohead song, so it could carry me in my post-performance state like the surface of a wave, but at the same time, it was a song clean of memories/associations. it was a song that resonated just in the present and the present was all i wanted to hear and feel at that moment. the present was enough.



currently listening to: youtube interviews of thom yorke

the other reason i'm still sane at work

word: these two links had me in tears they are so funny.

http://www.stupidvideos.com/video/just_plain_stupid/Teething_Baby/?msnAd_vid1#52085

this one i can't find a direct link to the video, but click on the below and search for "treadmill kittens" and prepare to die of laughter.

http://video.msn.com/?mkt=en-us&vid=ef8fdba3-b14e-459c-9620-179c6a3bfc3f&playlist=videoByUuids:uuids:68025d93-9570-4008-b54a-a183bb073988%2C260d39d3-fff6-4a74-89e9-f63a7ce4ac57%2C88aa136d-1e34-4e41-8052-5bd79de19bbf&from=MSNHP&tab=m1210975590336&gt1=42003

.................[skdfja(part.....two)wjsld]...............

from another email (same thread as part one below):

this process of not being able to write about radiohead has actually been good too. though not comfortable at best and hugely frustrating at worst. this is the biggest story i have right now and it. is. just. not. flowing.

i borrowed a concept from the artist's way (which i will also be starting this saturday) and just free wrote for three pages in my journal. i started by repeating the ideas that i have already put down and want to present in this piece, but eventually i started hitting new thoughts and gaining a little insight into what is at play in this block. most of the last page was mulling over failure and fear of not doing this in the way that does justice to my story.

it's something at least.

attempt #4 will come wednesday night. for now, it's way past pumpkin hour. i guess no 5am run for nathania tomorrow.

reciprocity

main entry:

rec·i·proc·i·ty

pronunciation:

\ˌre-sə-ˈprä-s(ə-)tē\

function:

noun

inflected form(s):

plural rec·i·proc·i·ties

date:

1766

1: the quality or state of being reciprocal : mutual dependence, action, or influence

this word intersected my life
in
sev-
eral
way-
s to
day.

.................[skdfjawjsld]...............

this is my response to receiving the below link from one of the radiohead fans i met this tour.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rCr5ds6DLgg

god. just the first five seconds of the video reverberates through my whole body. why can't i write about this goddamn experience? i spent 4 hours writing on saturday night and i still don't have this tour down. not even a start. at least, not a real one.

damndamndamn. they are amazing.

and it actually hurts to watch the video. like the tail end of a bruise somewhere in my ribcage.

i'm going to take another stab at writing this piece tonight. take it from a totally different approach see where it goes. i need two computers, one where i'm looking at the clips and the other where i'm just writing. maybe i'll go old school and hand write this out. transpose it later into blog form.

thanks for keeping the links coming, jason (and theresa). it keeps the experience alive in me.


currently listening to: talk show host {live} - radiohead

my year in the words of kanye west

so, i'm a little sheepish about the part of me that loves a good r & b tune. i don't know why. actually, maybe i do. i think it might be that the genre is pretty sexy/sensual and i am shy about owning that part of me {for the most part, there are weird and random exceptions}. and then part of me is a music snob. sigh...yes, it's true. i like deep music. but i should own up that i also like fun music.

anyway, i was just sent this song by my primary dealer of r & b music {eden smith - woot woot}. it doesn't happen often where the lyrics of a song jump out this quickly, but i immediately looked them up and was struck at how it tells quite a bit about one of the larger events of the year. the narrator switches in my mind. alternating between different points of view on the same relationship space.

and on the topic of jaimini, my friend rachel is amazing. she warms my heart through and through. i've only seen her a few times this year and one of them was this past sunday. sitting on her couch lapping up the sunshine, we were reminiscing about an evening jai and i spent with rachel and her husband at the end of january. she said: "that night was so much fun. {a beat} i keep thinking: i fed that man soup and he did this."

even though it's all old history now and onwards and upwards for me, sometimes care from friends can be expressed so poignantly you just want to melt into the floor.

this was one of those times.

love lockdown - kanye west

i'm not loving you way i wanted to
what i had to do, had to run from you
i'm in love with you, but the vibe is wrong
and that haunted me all the way home

so you never know, never never know
never know enough, 'til it's over love
'til we lose control, system overload
screaming: no, no, no, n-no!

i'm not loving you way i wanted to
see i wanna move, but can't escape from you
so i keep it low, keep a secret code
so everybody else don't have to know

so keep your love lockdown, your love lockdown
keeping your love lockdown, your love lockdown
now keep your love lockdown, your love lockdown
now keep your love lockdown, you lose
i'm not loving you way i wanted to
i can't keep my cool so i keep it true
i got something to lose so i gotta move
i can't keep myself and still keep you too

so i keep in mind when i'm on my own
somewhere far from home in the danger zone
how many times did i did ya for it finally got through
you lose, you lose

i'm not loving you way i wanted to
see i had to go, see i had to move
no more wasting time, you can't wait for life
we're just racing time, where's the finish line

so keep your love lockdown, your love lockdown
keeping your love lockdown, your love lockdown
now keep your love lockdown, your love lockdown
now keep your love lockdown, you lose

i'm not loving you way i wanted to

i bet no one knew i got no one new

i know i said i'm through, but got love for you
but i'm not loving you way i wanted to

gotta keep it going, keep the loving going
keep it on a roll, only god knows
if i be with you, baby i'm confused
you choose, you choose

i'm not loving you way i wanted to
where i wanna go i don't need you
i've been down this road too many times before

i'm not loving you way i wanted to

'so keep your love lockdown, your love lockdown
keeping your love lockdown, your love lockdown
now keep your love lockdown, your love lockdown
now keep your love lockdown, you lose, you lose
you lose, you lose, you lose

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yvk0zgapL6w

currently listening to: love lockdown - kanye west

meisner - day 3

we started with a trust exercise. we took turns closing our eyes and being led around the room by another classmate. first by touch and then by sound. we were led on a journey and guided to touch objects. inhale scents. discover sounds. i've done this before, but today was different. pretty brilliant. robin had us write, non-stop and uncensored, for a few minutes immediately after the exercise.

i followed first and this is what i wrote:

ivy walker. blind. intimacy. discoveries of sounds and textures and caressing things. the door. a state of grace and being graced. trust. above all trust. fear at losing the contact. head touched pillar in despair because i would be afraid. any time the light flickered i flinched. cinnamon is strong and reminded me of the scent game we played in preschool. i wondered what word i would choose. i tried to keep my heart open. will i. will i. couldn't stop. the guide. an intimacy of spirits. i tried to keep my trust up. i didn't want him to fail or me to fail.

i led second and this is what i wrote:

the biggest smile he had was for the blank wall. his fingers felt everything and his face was squenched up in this tightly spun amazement or disbelief. he kept on traveling, caressing nothing and everything and his fingers found all the jewels of texture it was fascinating and my joy was paternalistic. i felt very responsible. the water on the arm was a great response. his shock and then his slow smile. slow smile from the curry as well while i waited and waited for it knowing my own reaction to the scent. i wanted him to push back more.

the repeating exercise took the next step today. and any time i was sitting down in the seat my whole body was oscillating with potential energy. sheer force. and my jaw is still clenched.

i started my radiohead blog

it's ugly and rough and repetitive and it doesn't have the through-line i want it to yet. but all the parts are down. and that's a significant start.

the drive along 19th

it's just a little under a mile along 19th ave nw between michael & christine's place and my place, but two things stood out in stunning clarity in the sharp-edged autumnal sun:

{one} the two little girls, fro-ing curls standing horizontal from their heads, looking up at the postman who was taking a few minutes from his route to talk to them. there was something really homey and quaint about it. wholesome. it almost felt like a 1940's time warp.

{two} the bag hanging from the street sign of 19th and 77th. did someone lose it? was the bungee it's depending from inside the bag? how long has it been there? it was so random and bizarre i sat at the intersection stunned for a few seconds before snapping a photo and driving onwards.




currently listening to: rio- hey marseilles & sealion - sage francis

cafe vita - 11:13am

my friend met me here bearing gifts:

for when you come to tink of it, the only way to love a person is not, as the stereotyped christian notion is, to coddle them and bring them soup when they are sick, but by listening to them and seeing and believing in the god, in the poet, in them. for by doing this, you keep the god and keep the poet alive and make it flourish.

how does the creative impulse die in us? the english teacher who wrote fiercely on the margin of your theme in blue pencil: "trite, rewrite," hlepd to kill it. critics kill it, your family. families are great murderers of the creative impulse, particularly husbands. older brothers sneer at younger brothers and kill it. there is that american pasttime known as "kidding," - with the result that everyone is ashamed and hang-dog about showing the slightest enthusiasm or passion or sincere feeling about anything.

brenda ueland if you want to write

twelve and a half hours

i came home last night from buying a few more papers for my journal. i spent about 45 minutes longer in the store than i anticipated, but it was a kid-in-a-candy-store situation and i couldn't make up my mind what papers i wanted. had there been an unlimited budget, i probably would have purchased half of their selection. here are a few.

i came home last night and crawled into bed. i stopped long enough to take my mini skirt off, but that was about it. i anticipated resurfacing an hour or so later, but the first time i woke up, it felt like midnight and i immediately gave up on plans of dinner or even changing out of leggings and radiohead shirt.

sleep was viscous. any time i woke, staring out the open window at the orange streetlight boring into my room, i would shift away and hazily think "i'm going to sleep through the night...weird...please don't stay awake at 3 o'clock...." this happened countless times throughout the night and my fears of not being able to sleep were always unfounded. i finally woke for keeps at 7:30am. ravenous and sloughing off the last of my bizarre dreams.

last night was supposed to be the set up for a long and productive weekend. i had planned on cleaning house a little. starting my acting assignments, etc, but perhaps a full night of rest was the best thing for me. i can only assume so since my body has an internal gage that never lets me sleep longer than 9 or 10 unless i'm sick or i really need it.

to the weekend: bring it on.

i'm already over an hour into a cafe going session. armed with laptop, cell phone (that still is a little wonky with the texting alerts), journal and thom yorke links. my one goal for the day is to write about my '08 radiohead tour. last night provided an unexpected inspiration in the form of an apple store employee who noticed my concert shirt and initiated a conversation about the tour. she, too, had been at auburn and had been blown away by the show. needless to say i had a lot to say about the band, the tour, etc...

she's come undone

i've never read the book but eden described the vigil scene with the whale carcass. came to mind when i saw the below.

something strange, something strange, has come undone in me.

photo credit: fred tanneau - getty images
lyrics: she's come undone - eden smith {http://edensmithmusic.com/}

wolf at the door

i can't go to bed on sunday unless i've applied for 10 other jobs. ten. zehn. sane.

{and yes, i realize that i couldn't have timed this with the economy any better}

this song came up on shuffle on my ipod today. the first to play. very fitting.

wolf at the door - radiohead

-------

drag him out your window

dragging out your dead

singing i miss you

snakes and ladders

flip the lid

out pops the cracker

smacks you in the head

knifes you in the neck

kicks you in the teeth

steel toe caps

takes all your credit cards

get up get the gunge

get the eggs

get the flan in the face

the flan in the face

the flan in the face

dance you fucker dance you fucker

don't you dare

don't you dare

don't you flan in the face

take it with the love is given

take it with a pinch of salt

take it to the taxman

let me back let me back

i promise to be good

don't look in the mirror

at the face you don't recognize

help me call the doctor

put me inside

put me inside

put me inside

put me inside

put me inside

i keep the wolf from the door

but he calls me up

calls me on the phone

tells me all the ways that he's gonna mess me up

steal all my children

if i don't pay the ransom

but i'll never see him again

if i squeal to the cops

no no no no no no no:

walking like giant cranes ah

with my x ray eyes i strip you naked

in a tight little world and why are you on the list?

stepford wives who are we to complain?

investments and dealers investments and dealers

cold wives and mistresses

cold wives and sunday papers.

city boys in first class

don't know we're born little

someone else is gonna come and clean it up

born and raised for the job

someone else always does always pick it up

get over get up get over

turn the tape off.

i keep the wolf from the door

but he calls me up

calls me on the phone

tells me all the ways that he's gonna mess me up

steal all my children

if i don't pay the ransom

but i'll never see him again

if i squeal to the cops

so i'm just gonna' ooh ooh ooh

currently listening to: wolf at the door (it girl. rag doll) - radiohead

where did the summer go?

it went by like this:

conflicted {part two}

allow me to chase my tail for a few moments.

{and let me say before i begin: i already know the answer to my musings - the frustrating punchline of patience in the face of so much restlessness.}

i hate being conflicted. well, really, i hate when the conflict is not about what i want, but because of how i judge myself in the face of it. how it rests and is restless in me. do i move forward and throw myself into the internal fray, hoping to come out more at peace with myself and these specters -spectators?- of inadequacy vanquished? or do i pass this by, knowing i'll find exactly what i want further along and leave the ghosts for another day? even if/when i get what i want with zero concessions and compromises, this thing in me will still be hunkered down underneath the veneer of satisfaction if i don't do something about it. but is now the right time and is this the right thing?

in the end, i know it's not really up to me and my intellectual machinations, and all i really need to do is just keep breathing and moving and living and being {patient and kind to myself, among many other things}.

currently listening to: radiohead on shuffle - down is the new up & where i end and you begin

photo credit: imdb.com - the village movie stills

heart. solar plexus. navel. repeat.

the other problem of being single: not having someone to warm your feet each night. i abhor cold feet when trying to fall asleep. and it's beginning to turn winter already so that not even my flannel sheets make a significant difference on the icy exclamation points at the end of my legs. i put the heater on in the bathroom for the first time today before my morning shower and space heaters have manifested themselves in the foyer to be taken upstairs for their winter residence. the season is breathing down my neck.

one of the pieces that really stood out for my in the inspiring impressionism exhibit i saw this weekend was a dutch {?} painting of a winter landscape. there were a few ice skaters in the scene. a small village. lots and lots of grey sky. it was a monochromatic piece of brown/grey with delicate line work and sweeping space. standing in front of the piece i felt like winter.

what a lonely season. we wind up our windows, keep the doors closed, our bodies inside and bury ourselves in layers. it's isolating compared to the stripped-down and naked-armed freedom of summer.

and somehow the painting had it all.

thinking back to my experience in front of the painting i realized that i experience the seasons in specific parts of my body. spring and summer ride on my shoulders curling around my heart. i feel open and light. autumn moves down to the cavity just below my rib cage and seems to extend behind me to all the other autumns before. it's a nostalgic season of endings and internalization. winter moves down farther still to the space just behind my navel. a little black hole of hibernation and potential energy that shoots up my body and back into my chest as soon as the first warm{er} day has come. repeat.



currently listening to: radiohead on shuffle - {the songs that stand out - fog, down is the new up, like spinning plates (kid alive)}

a curse in disguise

it's a toss up - not sure what's worse. thinking you've lost all of your contacts, calendar entries, etc, and spending a good portion of time adding them back in OR discovering at the end of the day that in fact, they are still all on your computer, so the only thing you lost were you text messages.

the loss of my text messages should not be underestimated. i had some epic conversations. but the slate is clean now and perhaps my spirit weighs less.

i'm glad i had already deleted my ex's texts a month or so ago. not being in control of that purge would have been.....yeah....not comfortable.



currently listening to: hometown glory - adele

meisner - day 2

long day of technological failures and disappointments sloughed off at the freehold door.

random thoughts from class:

once upon a nightmare there was a dog with a toothpick face that was sharp.
rubies falling from the sky.
orange lips.
sweet nose.
the drone of repetition and robin's face alight as though each of the fifty "eyebrows" volleyed between the two actors was the most interesting word in the world.
and in truth, they were.
so much undulation in the pattern.
laughter.
a little bit of miss preen coming out.
dirty feet at the end of class that get warmed up and washed off and ready for bed.
my fingertips were zapped with electricity when she said shiny forehead.
my salmon salad was amazing.
standing outside with will and jon.
talkradio. what a lame insult. not clever, punk.
and i'm right about radiohead.
blue shirt with three birds.
ozrial has pink in his hair.
no maggie.
or jenn.

my mother's email to me:

I was telling Dad about your director's smile in the Chinese Restaurant. We both suddenly burst into tears.... like the smile, I guess each one of us has his own story about it.... Love mom


yes. i see the convergence of stories in this moment. the tears of both failures and glories as parents. how we walk the line between the two so gracefully at times.

i need to visit europe. it's been too long since i've seen my father and i can never see my mother too much {and once in two years doesn't even come close}.

in limbo

i'm stuck. i can't go to bed, because i had so many things i should have done rather than chasing down a replacement iphone and then having problems restoring all of my old iphone's settings. i'm listless. zero numbers in my phone. well, actually, one. eden's. and i'm feeling a little ungrounded.

i need to sleep. my phone will or won't sort itself out and i have to be on my cookies* tomorrow for class.

and then there are so many things i want to sit down and blog about: radiohead, my delicious run tonight {and bumping into sheree}, my five minute writing prompt from the first class that cuts into huge themes for me, the impressionist exhibit i saw this weekend, sitting on a stool across from a new friend i have so much softness for, the day of smothering myself in shame i had, the thing that kept on stopping me on my run, my mind keeps going.

pumpkin hour. more on wednesday because tomorrow is a meisner day. yay.




*director george-ism.

kairos

kairos (καιρός) is an ancient greek word meaning the "right or opportune moment". the ancient greeks had two words for time, chronos and kairos. while the former refers to chronological or sequential time, the latter signifies "a time in between", a moment of undetermined period of time in which "something" special happens. what the special something is depends on who is using the word. while chronos is quantitative, kairos has a qualitative nature.





{the above is from dictionary.reference.com}

meisner - day 1

there is only one thing i wish i could have done differently. well, two really, but the second...well, not too big of a deal, but the biggest was me not stepping into my self fully but choosing instead to simply following what everyone else was doing. our final exercise was to spend one minute in a chair giving a "video pen-pal speech." then someone has to come up after you and give a rewind where they reproduce what you just did as much as possible. most were funny, whimsical, non-serious. but i wish i'd thrown down the gauntlet and actually said something truly real, not just real by association.

i talked about color in a scattered sort of way, but i missed an opportunity to say and share something of substance about myself. my goodness, why didn't i go with my impulse and talk about radiohead? will says he would have jumped up even faster if i had done that, but would he have really if i had been completely truthful and passionate and honest about radiohead and that experience? would he have thrown in the mockery he assumed he would have added had i picked that topic not knowing what i would have said and how i would have said it?

how would have a minute of substance actually affected that class?

up the ante. it's just the first day, but then every day counts.

humor has been something i have noticed myself and other people using a lot lately. deflect. defend. stay safe. keep things at a distance or cloak their real intentions. a joke, a gesture, it's all just laughter and good fun, but is it really?

just. it's such a stunning word that cuts something off at its knees in one little syllable. i think a lot of these things aren't just anything. so then i wonder at my choice to remain light. i thought about talking about color when i first got up, but then i didn't make any bold choices after that, any deep commitments. i stayed in the shallow end. do not dive in.

i think part of me is afraid of being too heavy and serious and always giving things weight and substance when really, it's just for a "video pen-pal"? and yet, at the same time, if i were actually doing this, if that were me up there really trying to connect with someone significant and interesting, i would have said something totally different. i would have gone for something real, because i don't like wasting my time on the frivolous anyway.

bah. bah! okay, now i need to not regret my decision to stay superficial. i'm aware of it now and i can move on and dive deeper next time. don't be afraid of going there just because the rest of the class hasn't.

on the other hand, will was pretty stinking funny as nathania. i think all the time he'd done as mrs. mccutchin has paid off. he jumped up really darn fast to recreate my one minute of mannerisms, animation and speech. as soon as i saw him stand up i was laughing. and i was reduced to tears by the end {still laughter, thank goodness}. he had some great moments of being completely spot on and some that were tinged with hyperbole {i hope}. it was pretty brilliant. he didn't quite get the crossing of the legs right, but one can't hold it against him. it wouldn't be a good thing if he had my legs/hips/movements down perfectly. the hyperbole on the other hand, just a few things here and there were over the top....{punk!}.

tuesday. day two. too far away.

my mind just imploded

so.....................my mom literally just told me that from kindergarten onwards, i would tell everyone i was going to be an actress when i grew up (not that i wanted to be, but that i would be - no uncertain terms). she's been wondering about it my whole life: why didn't nathania do theater in high school, why doesn't she major in it in college, what is she waiting for, etc...

i don't know at what point i shoved the certainty away and forgot about it, but the moment i realized that acting was what i wanted to do in high school (and it was a finite, concrete moment) it felt like a new thought. an epiphany that arrived from outside of me. but little did i know that it had been quietly waiting, hidden under layers of fear and forgetfulness.

i was completely blown away by this realization. i have a really good memory for these sorts of things but my mind is drawing a complete blank on these moments, even after being reminded. my mom never thought to mention it. she was surprised that i had forgotten because it was just such a certain, unwavering desire and she has just been waiting for it to materialize in my life.

so here you go: i am an actor. already. and i will only become even more so as time passes.

{red,blue,green}

true story: tonight i pulled together the papers i have been hording to start laying out my next journal. i have been collecting various scraps of this color paper and that printed paper since i finished making my last journal and some of the pieces were literally purchased over four years ago. only after i set aside the ones that simply had to be in the journal did i realize the color palette i have been unconsciously constructing across the years.

yes, you guessed it.

there, sprawled out on my art room floor is: red. blue. green.

where my current journal is battered and over-sized, this one will be pristine and contained. where the old one is soft and pastel, this one will be bold and saturated.

this photo doesn't even begin to do the red paper justice. it's a gorgeous crimson that had me lusting for it the first time i saw it at the paper store in st. louis. the alphabet paper {next to the dark blue} is a record sleeve that was floating around the record bin in my favorite new york city thrift store {salvation army on west 8th just a little east of 6th avenue}. i bought a record just so i could slip this piece of paper into my box and take it home. most of it was already used once on a journal i made for someone else, but i have just enough left to get one page for my own.

so here we are, full circle.

videotape has featured prominently in my life this past year and as much as it has marked endings, tearing and painful, it has also called me forward into my self and my vibrancy. so, here is to my future, and all the bold colors that will unfold in my next years of writing/loving/living.

when i'm at the pearly gates
this'll be on my videotape
my videotape

when mephistopheles is just beneath
and he's reaching up to grab me

this is one for the good days
and i have it all here
in red blue green
red blue green

you are my centre when i spin away
out of control on videotape
on videotape

this is my way of saying goodbye
because i can't do it face to face

no matter what happens now
i won't be afraid
because i know today has been the most perfect day i've ever seen.

currently listening to: videotape - radiohead

a gaggle of green

ross, little brother of mine, you are still losing the tattoo bet. in leiu of a permanent mark on my body, i've put the peacock-green streaks in my hair. again.

this is one for the good days
and i have it all here
in red blue green
red blue green

red dress. green hair. i'm just missing something blue...unless one counts my painting something old, something new, something broken, something blue {see july 15th}. i guess i'll count that as of now and it's not really a stretch given how significant the painting/dream was for me and how it's braided in harmony along with the movement forwards with the dress and hair.

so i'm set, and these are all things for the good days.

no matter what happens now
i won't be afraid
because i know today has been the most perfect day i've ever seen.




currently listening to: ahuvanti - kaki king
quote: lyrics from radiohead's videotape

the main problem with being single:

not having a spider exterminator on call 24/7.

i always feel like an adult after i've killed a spider. the one that just got smeared across my wall five minutes ago was one of the biggest. i didn't even scream (though i did utter "f***ing f***! when i saw it). i also didn't have to squint my eyes while squishing it (so that that the legs aren't visible as distinguishable apendages).

but i have to stop thinking about it or else i'll never get to sleep.


ew.

i am ashamed of being tall...

at times. and at my best, i enjoy the benefits. like being able to see the singer on stage sans obstructions.

but my friend said it best three minutes ago, sitting next to me on the couch and watching me squirm in this. she said: there is a lot to be opened here.

a-men.


am i ready?

i can't get past the first two pages....

i keep on rereading the opening pages (see love at first sentence from yesterday). i can already tell i will be adding this book to the short list of "books i wish i had written."


* * * a small theory * * *
people observe the colors of a day only at its beginnings and ends, but to me it's quite clear that a day merges through a multitude of shades and intonations, with each passing moment. a single hour can consist of thousands of different colors. waxy yellows, cloud-spat blues. murky darknesses. in my line of work, i make it a point to notice them.

as i've been alluding to, my one saving grace is distraction. it keeps me sane. it helps me cope, considering the length of time i've been performing this job. the trouble is, who could ever replace me? who could step in while i take a break in your stock-standard resort-style vacation destination, whether it be tropical or of the ski trip variety? the answer, of course, is nobody, which has prompted me to make a conscious, deliberate decision--to make distraction my vacation. needless to say, i vacation in increments. in colors.

still it's possible that you might be asking, why does he even need a vacation? what does he need distraction from?

which brings me to my next point.

it's the leftover humans.

the survivors.

they're the ones i can't stand to look at, although on many occasions i still fail. i deliberately seek out the colors to keep my mind off them, but now and then, i witness the ones who are left behind, crumbling among the jigsaw puzzle of realization, despair, and surprise. they have punctured hearts. they have beaten lungs.

which in turn brings me to the subject i am telling you abut tonight, or today, or whatever the hour and color. it's the story of one of those perpetual survivors--an expert at being left behind.

it's just a small story, really, about, among other things:
*a girl
*some words
*an accordionist
*some fanatical germans
*a jewish fist fighter
*and quite a lot of theivery

i saw the book thief three times.


this book will chew me up and spit me out a different person on the other side. i can already tell. thank you sheree, darling, for making me buy this book. and thank you elnora, for telling me about it in the first place.


quote: the book thief - zusak

[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[montreal]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

there are few times in my life/things in this world that make me feel lonely. i surround myself with close people so that when i spend time with them, it's connected and real and of substance. and my time by myself is filled with projects and tasks that i savor.

loneliness is just not one of the things i struggle with.

that said, the song montreal by kaki king never fails to put me in this clausterphobic place of searing isolation. i'm grateful to the song for letting this feeling surface in me, i just can't decide if it's a rare experience because i protect myself really well from it or because it's just something i don't have to deal with that often.




currently listening to: we all dream of revenge - kaki king

love at first sentence

it's my new book. i bought it today because of a recommendation from a friend. it's my treat this week as i recuperate from my last class and prep for the next. i had already decided to buy it, but turned to the first page while standing in line and had goosebumps almost immediately. the opening words are:

first the colors.
then the humans.
that's usually how i see things.
or at least, how i try.

the story is told from death's point of view, instantly captivating and harkens back to keturah and lord death which was the book that started this blog. on the very next page, he says:

i could introduce myself properly, but it's not really necessary. you will know me well enough and soon enough, depending on a diverse range of variables. it suffices to say that at some point in time, i will be standing over you, as genially as possible. your soul will be in my arms. a color will be perched on my shoulder. i will carry you gently away.

at that moment, you will be lying there (i rarely find people standing up). you will be caked in your own body. there might be a discovery; a scream will dribble down the air. the only sound i'll hear after that will be my own breathing, and the sound of the smell, of my foosteps.

the question is, what color will everything be at that moment when i come for you? what will the sky be saying?

mind you, this is just in the first page and a half, and if you know me at all, you know that color is central to who i am. grey was the color of my first memory and i wonder what will be the color of my last. i wonder what color death will bring me. what final gift will he bestow.

another book the above mentioned friend recommended featured a character who identified all the different ranges of each emotion (400 kinds of sadness, anger, fear, joy, etc...) and while i consider myself to be an emotionally articulate person, what interests me more are all the minute variations of color.

if i were to decide what color death would bring, today it would be red. but not blood red (just saw burn after reading and there was enough blood red in that for me to know that's not the kind i want). hazy fall sunset red. blush red. alizerine crimson. the red of my duvet. dry but comforting. saturated and alive. bejeweled red. red. red. red. red.

in the dream i had about my wedding, it was the red flowers that woke me up to the tragedy of what i was missing (see something old something new... july 15). it is my red dress that i am the most bold. it is in red that i am really the most alive.

and what could be more fitting than being ushered out of this world by the color that has most symbolized life?


currently listening to: in rainbows disc 1 & 2 - radiohead

twinkle, twinkle

i brought back the red comforter - a nice change and fitting for fall. but i quickly noticed it absorbed all the light in the room making it feel like a cave. as we enter winter here, i need to prep myself for the long haul with more light, not less, so enter the fairy lights. they've been on a sabbatical since moving into the city and it was suddenly time to bring them back too.


next step: adding a few oragami cranes to the mix.

conflicted {see-saw}

ivy walker:

when i was younger... you used to hold my arm when i walked.

then suddenly you stopped. one day, i even tripped in your presence

and nearly fell. i was faking, of course, but still

you did not hold me. sometimes we don't do things we want to

do so that others won't know we want to do them.

i tilt back and forth wildly. rising. falling. pushing. pulling. eye contact. shift away. distance. repeat.

and yet for the first time i could receive the arm, but could not offer mine in return. sorry for me. and sorry to you - though you probably don't notice a lack {and that's okay too}.

seen. see. scene. saw.

quote: the village
photo credit: imdb.com - the village movie stills.

more than just getting by

tonight was mine. dinner with my housemate, nasrin: impromptu potluck of omelet and salad. an hour at cafe vita while eden worked the closing shift. a few hours at home putting away the last of the props and paying bills before the lastminutebeforetheyareoverdue crunch.

i feel on top of my life right now and i'm going to sleep before 11:30pm.

zip a dee do dah!

my letter to the director

we had a cast party a la potluck family dinner tonight. we eleven sat around a table and came together one last time. and it was............. and .....................and .................................................


too much to write now after not enough processing time, but here is what i just wrote to the director.


george~

so, after spending an hour in golden gardens decompressing, i was brushing my teeth and hit on what i was trying to articulate in our conversation. the brilliant thing about this smile you gave [after our last performance] was that it had no words and it had no answers. and of course, the thoughts running through my head at the time (underneath wow. Wow. WOW) were "what? say something. put it into words, etc..." but, like with your teaching, you don't give out the answers, you just tell us to go look for them (with an occasional nudge or two in the right direction). and your smile was my nudge to go find the successes that i know were there and knew in some part of my mind even as they were happening.

and know i do hear the importance and validity of your next challenge of finding the inner gage and voice of constructive criticism (sans perfectionist critic) that isn't dependent on another.

so thanks, yet again.

~nathania

fall (cleaning) & inventory

today was a day of transition. the play is done and we're all heading directly into the meisner progression to start nine months of intense self-reconstruction which will hopefully spit us out on the other side with better acting skills. despite getting to sleep around 3am, my eyes and mind opened wide at 8:30am and refused to shut down again. an energized start to a full day.

the day found me spending a good deal of time with old and new friends alike - two, in particular, who i have always experienced a special connection when the three of us are together. the last year of our lives, though completely apart from this trinity, have been so parallel it's almost scary. really. juxtapositions. convergence. synchronicity. and heart. all three of us. and today for the first time in over a year, we all happened on the same coffee shop at the same time. after several hours of leisurely catch up and nectarines, i spent the rest of the day with eden, recapping on the previous evening's performance and making up for a week of dense living but incompatible schedules.

there was one completely unexpected moment of the day: it's a part of a longer story that is not mine to tell, but one of my newer friends sat in his grief with me and i found the beginnings of redemption for jaimini. i think it was watching this man, mostly without words, in this indescribable place that evoked so much humanity and resonance it spilled over into the spaces that jaimini occupies in me. there is a softness i have for this man that i suddenly find myself willing to give to jai for the first time since things dissolved for us. not that am filled with forgiveness or would be unmoved were i to see him on the street tomorrow, but it's a beginning to the final stages of recovery.

after a long afternoon nap, i mirrored this process of review/reconnect in my physical space by a thorough house cleaning and reorganization of the top floor. i even pulled out all of the bookbinding paper underneath my bed to exterminate the rabbit warrens of dust bunnies. this task served a dual purpose of also letting me go through all of my paper and start mulling over what my next journal will look like. i've carried my current journal for four years and still have three of the ten signatures (sections) left, but somehow, i feel like they are going to move quickly so i want to be prepared with its replacement. i wish i could have had the time to completely reorganize my two art closets (and, hey, clothing closet too), but the day has ended and it's pumpkin hour so i'm off to bed.

on the topic of my bed, i changed the sheets to flannel and the duvet cover back to red. and tomorrow, hopefully, or friday at the latest, the streaks in my hair will be back to emerald green.

redefine and reinvent.

fall and change, here i come.





currently listening to: radiohead on shuffle, though to wind down, i put super collider on repeat.

evidently....

when the mummy case hit the ground there was an audible "ow" that pretty much everyone in the audience heard. i have no recollection of saying it. none. zip. zilch.

two of my best friends in the audience could barely contain their laughter. part of me wishes they had just busted out, though it would have made it harder for me to exit stage left without collapsing in a heap of laughter and upstaging the final scene of the play.

i really wish i had improvised what would have happened if lorraine had gotten out and been dragged off by banjo: "banjo, you idiot! where are you taking me and where is my purse and fur coat......!?!?!"

three down, none to go

we nailed it, and it's done.
we nailed it, and it hurts.
we nailed it, and i have almost no sense of how we went above and beyond, except those little moments backstage, where i thought "that's the first time i've heard them do or say that" or "the audience laughed there for the first time."
it wasn't flawless by any means, most notably the very audible crash as the mummy case took a spill to the ground as we were exiting with. me. in. it.
but at the same time, we held together so well as an ensemble that we carried each other and ourselves through with energy and life and invited the audience into the experience.
and my room smells of lilies and my eye lids are heavy and gagging order is playing.
and i spent several hours with a handful of the cast and i wished i could have spent several hours more.
i wore my red dress tonight. only the third time, but some how my red dress self held back a little. i smile to think of it. maybe she had already spent herself on stage. maybe. or maybe she was just shy tonight.
either way, we nailed it.
and it's done.

two down, one to go

tonight was a struggle. there was a long pause while the other actor completely forgot their lines and i could not for the life of me figure out something to say or another of my lines to skip to. i felt like 10 seconds of d e a d silence, but it was more like 4 or 5.

even though i wasn't nervous last night i think there was more of a charge that i got from the audience than i was aware of. i actually think tomorrow night may be the worst in terms of nerves and best in terms of energy and spirit of the cast. i hope. people who i carecarecare about will be there. eden, bimi, nasrin, more? the stakes will be high to keep me focused make it be the best (please?). and it will be the end of a short little run.


more random, sleep tinged thoughts
i'm even more tired today.
enjoyed spending time with some of the cast afterwards.
i adore maggie...i mean, jen.
looking forward to sleeping in as long as i want tomorrow.
want to wear the red dress.
want to do my best.
need a new job.
need to do better at my current job.
got flowers delivered for the first time ever. e v e r. and they are gorgeous.
they smell even better. lillies. lillies. lillies.
i keep on having de ja vu on the set. has happened three times. pretty surrreal and vivid.
already miss working on the play and with the cast.
want tomorrow to be spot on.
zzzzz.

one down, two to go

tonight was the first run through with an audience. officially an open dress rehearsal, but in actuality it was a full on performance. overall, some parts were a mess: missing cues, not enough voice energy, dropped lines, etc, but it was still fun. a huge rush. and backstage i had a moment where i realized that everything felt in the right place. i know for certain now that this is what i should be doing and where i need to move further.

i was able to find a little more flirtation between bert jefferson and miss lorraine sheldon, but i'm looking forward to finding even more tomorrow. somehow, with the audience there, i actually felt less exposed in this over the top seduction scene than when it was done just in front of the cast.

the theater high is a hard one to come down from. tonight's ending feels abrupt because we all parted ways and headed off to home and bed. work in the morning calls. but all i want is to be around the rest of the cast. this going off alone just doesn't feel right. tomorrow night and the next night we have appropriate festivities planned, but in the meantime, i really feel the lack. i gave myself five minutes in my car when i pulled up to the house. i turned the engine off and the rolled the windows down and just sat in the darkness with cymbal rush serenading my restlessness. george had suggested we take space for ourselves in this post-performance moment to collect ourselves and savor the experience.


and this time in the car was my space.


and this time blogging too.




and yet, part of me is already moving forward and we're not even done.

at first i had been taken aback by the fact that we go from this class to the nine month meisner progression with only a week between, but now i'm so happy to have the momentum from one to the next. currently we have 6 of the 9 cast members going on to meisner and we're putting pressure on the others to join us. our little ensemble.

my mind is wandering.
i want to sleep but thoughts keep intruding.
my heart feels full and constructed out of a foreign substance and my feet are filthy.
i just want to sleep and tomorrow find strength to do and ask for the things i want, even though my words and actions show that i can't or don't.
i want to call myself out and the other through me {him, june, lorraine}.
i wasn't really nervous. a little jumpy, but not really nervous. happy to note that.
wondered what it would have been like if jaimini had been there.
what will i wear tomorrow when we go out for drinks?
either my black top or my black bird dress {which has yet to make a debut}
i know what i'm wearing saturday night.
yes, you guessed it, my red dress.
reddress.
redress.
dress.
ress.
ess.
ss.
s.
z.
zz.
zzz.
zzzzzz.
zzzzzzzzzzzz.
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.




currently listening to: cymbal rush - thom yorke

notes from the director and my psyche*

genius george, the director: "nathania, is that how you seduce someone?!!?! be more seductive!!!"

nathania's inner monologue: jaowirjfslkfjslirjseilfsfuuuucklasdkkkkkfdddfffgetmeoutofhere! ican'tdothisinfrontofotherPEOPLE!alkfjwsdirjsdfksf.....!!!

i am seriously blushing on stage when i do this currently and it's about half of what he wants. maybe a quarter. not. fun.

shy nathania is still very present in me i guess. i thought/hoped she was mostly gone. at least this over-the-top-want-to-be-sucked-up-by-the-floor-and-beamed-to-a-parallel-universe sort of shy.




i guess this one thing just sticks me where i'm already sore. in two places: who the hell does she think she is trying to seduce this shorter, attractive guy?




*definition of psyche that adds an interesting and unplanned irony: a personification of the soul, which in the form of a beautiful girl was loved by eros.

don't get any big ideas {but see link below}

okay, so for those of you sick and tired of radiohead, i'm sorry...for you! you don't know what you're missing.

that said, i am aware i've been operating under a one track mind for the past several weeks, but when i finally finish the post about my '08 radiohead tour {yes, it is "in progress" currently}, you might start to understand the significance of this band and what these three shows meant to me.

random side note: had a vivid dream last night about getting to see them play in dublin and glasgow. i was hanging out with the band and their friends and they were going to fly me to the UK for these shows. sucked to wake up this morning. i need to get out of this country. i need to see them again.

but whether or not you like radiohead, the below is pretty astounding. give the video a minute to get started as nothing much happens the first 70 seconds, but you will be well rewarded after that. also, take a moment to read the description beneath the video.



and for those of you that don't know the song nude, this will take you to a link to the original version of the song:



and a little bit of trivia: this song is a little hard to search for in youtube without pulling up some...interesting....videos, even if you put the band name before the song title. i was at work when i pulled it up and felt like i couldn't hit the "back" button fast enough.







currently listening to: nude - radiohead {shouldn't be surprising}

wind down

the last couple of nights have found me a little restless after rehearsal. things are coming together more which means i'm at a higher place when we finish. not nearly as far as i need to go, but far enough that i have discovered a need for a bridge between where i leave off and where i need to be so i can return to my life and get to sleep. last night it was cymbal rush by thom yorke that mellowed me out and tonight it's super collider.

i just need a little help grounding.

and tomorrow i'll need a lot of help building up to the max. i just found out my teacher for the 9 month course i'm starting next is coming to the performance tomorrow. it's one thing to go into an interview confidently as myself and feel satisfied {see meisner progression post from july 29th}, another thing entirely to have her watch me perform. i wonder if they univite people to participate in the course. the stakes have suddenly been raised, and maybe that's a good thing.

"and so, goodnight. we go over the top tomorrow."



currently listening to: super collider - radiohead
quote: rilla of ingleside - l. m. montgomery

a blessing in disguise

juat a little thing that almost put me down for the count. it was the the end of a long day: waking up late, having a stupid mishap getting gas, going to the doctor (yes, the doctor) and getting a perscription for antibiotics (gasp! yes, antibiotics), then going to the pharmacy to get this healing party started....only to find that the perscription wasn't faxed to the pharmacy.





crash and burn. suddenly the antibiotics i was being chained down and forced to take were my one lifeline and i had to have them five minutes ago!





i crawled home, venting to john the whole way, then got the idea to call the pharmacy that had been initially discussed (who never got the cancel notice, which was good), and had them transfer the perscription to a location not 40 miles away. order is restored. waiting for the perscription to be filled would make me late for class, but the teacher knew i was fighting kidney troubles which, of course, trumped being on time.

suddenly the tragedy of the perscription mix up became a gift of 40 minutes giving me the opportunity for dinner and even a shower letting me feel human again for the first time since my kidneys decided to try and dig themselves out of my body last friday.


so, thank you dr. lasage or whichever admin didn't make the switch. you probably saved my sanity last night (and by default, the sanity of the entire cast i'm working with too).




currently listening to: a mix and mash of bon iver, thom & radiohead.

what's in a name?

i've always liked the many names i've been given except perhaps tania (also see post a h m from july 7, 2008), and these are too fun:



My Ten Names
1. YOUR REAL NAME: Nathania Ruth tenWolde
2. YOUR GANGSTA NAME: (first 3 letters of real name plus izzle.): Natizzle
3. YOUR DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color and favorite animal): Blue Bird
4. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME:( your middle name and street you live on/or neighborhood if it's a number): Ruth Ballard
5. YOUR STAR WARS NAME: (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first name): Natte – not too far of one of my many nicknames, Nate. Except on closer examination, it should actually be Tenna.
6. YOUR SUPERHERO/CRIMINAL NAME: (Your 2nd favorite color, and favorite drink): Red Cider – definitely a criminal with that name and you can guess what dress I would wear.
7. YOUR IRAQI NAME: (2nd letter of your first name, 3rd letter of your last name, 1st letter of your last name, 2nd letter of your moms maiden name, 3rd letter of your dads name, 1st letter of a siblings first name, and last letter of your moms first name): antirra – actually kind of pretty
8. YOUR WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: (parents middle names): Ruth (yes, just Ruth. My dad doesn’t have a middle name)
9. YOUR GOTH NAME: (black, and the name of one of your pets): Black Sabertooth – my sister named him. But he was our favorite.
10. Your porn star name: (name of your first pet and name of the street you grew up on): Momma Cat Adams – I must confess here that my typically amazing memory for things like this has gone astray. Partly because we had a million pets growing up (I kid you not). The first cat that was “mine” had a name like Tom or something like that. So, in light of a poor memory, this other pet (and her name wasn’t given lightly, she had a million litters) will have to substitute in his place. Plus, I needed something feminine for my porn name anyway.

differentiation

where i end and you begin (the sky is falling in) - radiohead

there's a gap in between

there's a gap where we meet

where i end and you begin

and i'm sorry for us

the dinosaurs roam the earth

the sky turns green

where i end and you begin

i'm up in the clouds

i'm up in the clouds

and i can't and i can't come down

i can watch and not take part

where i end and where you start

where you, you left me alone

you left me alone

x'll mark the place

like the parting of the waves

like a house falling in the sea

in the sea

i will eat you alive

i will eat you alive

i will eat you alive

i will eat you alive

and there'll be no more lies

there'll be no more lies

there'll be no more lies

there'll be no more lies

currently listening to: where i end and you begin (the sky is falling in) - radiohead

cringe, blush, disappear worthy

in the play i have to do something that is reallyreallyreally hard for nathania to do which is making it hard for the character to do. really. awful. crawl out of my skin and evaporate into nothingness sort of hard.



awoeitjfslckasndtunsajwlesiraaaargh!




currently listening to: the radiohead oeuvre on shuffle, but maybe i should just be listening to how to disappear completely on repeat.

sheets/pillow/duvet/pillow

every night lately i've been tearing my bed apart. i wake up each day with the whole mass of sheets and comforter floating awry. upside is sideways and sideways is downside and it's a pain in the ass to remake.

i wonder what i'm dreaming about.






still listening to: rio - hey marseilles {check them out, they are a local band that just released their lively and whimsical cd: heymarseilles.com}

..................................................thom

i swear i don't have a crush,

but this picture might be the closest i come.

yes, yes, i know one can't see his face.

he's not a beautiful man,

but he's capable of so much beauty it

simultaneously expands and breaks my heart.

currently listening to: anthems for a 17 year-old girl - broken social scene

photo credit - radiohead website {radiohead.com}

the beginning

i have a lot to say about radiohead: thoughts on the buffet of three shows i got to indulge in that culminated in the dessert course i finished a week ago tonight, words for the way that i moved through the experience physically, emotionally, musically, and finally about the way their music has carried me through my life for nearly ten years.

i have several pages of notes jotted down. ideas i don't want to lose. they are from my own musings and errant realizations as well as documentation of a conversation i had tuesday night with someone who clearly reflected back the Significance in the convergence of the above.

but i can't start it tonight. sleep trumps my need to write. so here are a few photos to give me momentum.








currently listening to: rio - hey marseilles {heymarseilles.com}; analyse - thom yorke

;;.....................;................;...........................;...;

recently i've been mulling over a phenomenon i've noticed between myself and one of my friends. it's this mysterious process in which i am completely unable to be myself around them. they are a casual friend, so someone i don't see that often, but just enough that i have been able to articulate clearly what this feeling is: it's as though someone is taking sandpaper to my spirit and muting me, taking off the shine and flow of my self and tossing a duller, more cumbersome version of me in my place. a drab little doppelganger. when i am around them, i actually feel like an actor saying lines i haven't thought enough about. or perhaps i have thought too much, but haven't found any interesting insights, so i say the lines as though they were important, but all the while grossly aware of my sham.

i thought going to radiohead with them*, spending a day with them, seeing thom with them, etc, my radiohead self would emerge in full glory. the inspired, alive, vibrant, vivacious nathania that nothing can put a cap on, but even she was no where to be seen on that day. at first i was surprised that this person could be the trump card even to thom yorke, but on thinking through, i realized it was more an indication of where i am currently and how i held myself back this tour (more on that later), rather than an indication of how much i stifle myself around my friend. the one time i could be myself around them was during a night of drinking. i...ahem...remember a little less than normal, but i was told i was pretty gloriously myself that night.

simultaneously, i've had the opportunity to witness someone who i feel suffers from the above around me. i am not gentle with them where i would like to be. i am not patient. i feel like my boundaries are violated by them just through a simple question or statement they speak. and these things reflect back to me the effect i may have on this other person above. and my mind and body shy away from the implications.

one of the great benefits of interacting with this other friend of mine is that whenever i am around them, i no longer try to take care of them, do or say things for their benefit, or accommodate them in this. i am typically the grand accomodator, so this has actually been a significant step forward, even if it's taken within somewhat less than comfortable circumstances.


*yes, this makes it rather apparent who it is and if, by some offchance, you are reading this, n.a.w., don't take it personally, this is all me pal. actually, you really should take this as a compliment. so few people really truly intimidate me, which you do, despite all your congeniality.

currently listening to: the eraser - thom yorke & in rainbows - radiohead (but i had to skip over the reckoner. too potent still.)

160 x 5

yesterday found itself graced by an extended texting conversation* with the below mentioned radiohead fan (two posts down). i'm glad i asked the following. i think i was anticipating a yes/no response with perhaps a little bit of explanation. needless to say, i was more than pleasantly surprised.


nat: is radiohead your favorite band? or do you follow others around like you do rh?

mike: for the last ten years i have followed them. on multiple levels, thematic and compositional complexity, integrity of social awareness, they are the ultimate modern artists of our time. there is no band today that has such a deep and wide gestalt imo. i cannot get bored with them. that is the beauty of it. after all the layers of kid a and amnesiac we get an amazing work that touches us so deeply about human relationships. amazing really that they take something as complex as how we interact and can sythesize this into something as sublime and pure as videotape. we are lucky to have experienced what we have over the last couple weeks. very hard to explain to someone who hasn't emmersed themselves into rh or seen them before.




*and by conversation, i mean with all the substance that the word "conversation" implies. very few responses were any less than 160 characters (for the moms and aunts out there, that's the maximum response you can send in one text, bolded here to give a sense of length) and most were three +/- sections large.


currently listening to: analyse - thom yorke (the fast didn't last that long. five days?)