Back in town for a while, and I'm settling in. So much activity fills each moment of each day. Thoroughly Modern Millie is gearing up for its opening in just two weeks. I can hardly believe it's been two months since we began work on the show, and how much has happened in that amount of time. The opening of this show means that another semester at HPU is almost over, and that students that I have known since I arrived at HPU two years ago will be graduating. I can hardly believe that, either. Where does the time go? In only a few short months, I have been challenged to reveal parts of myself as a teacher, a dancer and a choreographer that I would have never imagined, or pushed myself to reveal on my own. My hair has grown from an edgy pixie cut to an ambiguous coif that I have taken to pining back, given its unruly tendencies. In just a few short years, I have gone from a once-a-week obscurity to a fully invested member of the theater department. In that same time frame, I have become a busy artist, traveler, experimenter, and artistic executor, instead of someone wondering if I would ever become so.
There has been such good news lately. To begin, my documentary, "Art for the Living," has been chosen to be screened at the Davis Film Festival in Davis, CA. Since it falls on the same weekend as the opening of Millie, I can not attend, however I am excited to be able to share the film with new audiences! The other piece of good news is that I have been selected to premiere a new solo work for the NEWMOVES dance festival at the Kelly Strayhorn Theater in Pittsburgh. I now have six weeks to complete the piece, but I love the motivation of a close deadline!
What I am most excited about at the present moment is the arrival of Mackenzie and Laura this coming weekend! We are giving a work-in-progress showing of "Common Threads" at SECCA on the 31st. This will be our first professional incarnation of the piece. Even more exciting, is that on the same evening, the Panoramic Dance Project will be performing their incarnation of the piece at NC State University, where we began our process of working the piece and exploring conceptual aspects of the piece this past fall. This showing puts us one step closer to bringing our experience full circle by finishing the piece this summer. I can't wait. I so enjoy my time with these ladies.
I guess I'm finally calmed down enough to go to sleep now. These nighttime rehearsals make me tired and wired. Can't fall asleep right away, but wish I could! Terry's yoga class on releasing tension around the chest, shoulders and jaw today was helpful, and I think I'll do a few of the breathing exercises before I fully fall asleep. Boy, I needed that class. I always forget how much tension I carry around. It was nice to leave it behind today, if only for a short time.
Good night!
~Cara
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Yes, the Puke Finds Me.
February is long gone, and tomorrow the time changes to mark the shift of seasons. The loss of one hour of sleep hardly seems significant, given the constant state of shift my mind and body have undergone these past few weeks. From coast to coast, over oceans and through many clouds I have flown. Italy called our names for years, and finally, Mackenzie and I took the pilgrimage. Goddard college called me back for yet one more residency, and I made the sojourn to the shores of Port Townsend. This evening, I sit in the familiar "N" terminal at the Seattle-Tacoma Airport, awaiting my flight back to Greensboro, back to the regular rhythm of living, back to the familiar smells and sounds of the day, back into my husband's expectant arms.
Exhausted as I am, it is hard to articulate in words the impressions of beauty from these two trips that I will surely revel in forever. However, I will try to share a few...
Venezia:
A cloud of pigeons dissipates to reveal San Marco. We step off of the boat, onto age old stone. The sound of large bells fills the square.
Tiny, narrow streets lend themselves to exploration and getting lost. Little treasures we find along the way.
The soft glow of golden windows reflects upon the waters of the canal. Vaporetti slowly amble through the dark. Faint music can be heard.
Musicians play with passion and skill in the beautiful chapel. Warm sounds resonate through wood, off of stone and through our bodies.
Oh, how to be the belle of the ball. Childhood dreams realized.
...........Yes, in a perfect world, I would have written much more, edited the material and posted. However, last night I was jolted right out of my quiet reverie. I have said it before, and I will say it again: THE PUKE FINDS ME. I am only too lucky to seem to always be in the path of a vomiting drunk, of a pregnant dry heaver, or in this case I would guess, a nine year old with motion sickness.
As I was sitting at the deserted table of the closed Burger King in terminal N, a little girl and her father stumble quickly off of an adjacent jet bridge. The girl is yacking into a grey plastic bag. She sits ten feet from me, and again yacks into her bag, albeit unsuccessfully (as we all know, in the case of children, bags do little). What really put the cherry on top, was that her father leaves a wad of paper towels, and the bag of barf on the table for some poor janitor to clean up. I wanted to yell at that man, but I was so panicked by the puking girl that I quickly unplugged my computer and walked clear across the terminal to be as far away from the situation as possible. I hoped with all my heart that their connecting flight was not my flight. Lucky for me (or maybe for them), it wasn't.
So there you have it. Life goes on. I didn't even get to my Goddard impressions. Oh well. Perhaps it isn't important. Back to the grindstone tomorrow.
~Cara
Exhausted as I am, it is hard to articulate in words the impressions of beauty from these two trips that I will surely revel in forever. However, I will try to share a few...
Venezia:
A cloud of pigeons dissipates to reveal San Marco. We step off of the boat, onto age old stone. The sound of large bells fills the square.
Tiny, narrow streets lend themselves to exploration and getting lost. Little treasures we find along the way.
The soft glow of golden windows reflects upon the waters of the canal. Vaporetti slowly amble through the dark. Faint music can be heard.
Musicians play with passion and skill in the beautiful chapel. Warm sounds resonate through wood, off of stone and through our bodies.
Oh, how to be the belle of the ball. Childhood dreams realized.
...........Yes, in a perfect world, I would have written much more, edited the material and posted. However, last night I was jolted right out of my quiet reverie. I have said it before, and I will say it again: THE PUKE FINDS ME. I am only too lucky to seem to always be in the path of a vomiting drunk, of a pregnant dry heaver, or in this case I would guess, a nine year old with motion sickness.
As I was sitting at the deserted table of the closed Burger King in terminal N, a little girl and her father stumble quickly off of an adjacent jet bridge. The girl is yacking into a grey plastic bag. She sits ten feet from me, and again yacks into her bag, albeit unsuccessfully (as we all know, in the case of children, bags do little). What really put the cherry on top, was that her father leaves a wad of paper towels, and the bag of barf on the table for some poor janitor to clean up. I wanted to yell at that man, but I was so panicked by the puking girl that I quickly unplugged my computer and walked clear across the terminal to be as far away from the situation as possible. I hoped with all my heart that their connecting flight was not my flight. Lucky for me (or maybe for them), it wasn't.
So there you have it. Life goes on. I didn't even get to my Goddard impressions. Oh well. Perhaps it isn't important. Back to the grindstone tomorrow.
~Cara
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