Terrible/Wonderful

1. David and I are thinking of getting an air conditioner. I have lived in Indiana and Pennsylvania for a combined 12 years without AC. And now, we are seriously thinking of it: a window unit, and central if we had the money for it (that shit is expensive…). But using AC makes more global warming, which makes us need more AC. I feel like a rat on a wheel.

BUT

(and unrelated)

2. I’ve been day dreaming about making theatre. I’m sending my play out into the world to contests and workshops (fingers crossed for it to get chosen), I’m organizing a reading this summer, and I’m thinking about what comes next. And I’m talking about it with other theatre artists. And I’m writing grants to make it happen. It’s Baby Theatre. Get ready.

BUT

(related)

3. There is NO MONEY for anything extra. And I feel greedy for wanting grants or Kickstarter money or even audience members to make art when Pennsylvania Public education is falling apart, when people are hungry and hot (or cold, depending on the season…), when the basic needs are not being met. I BELIEVE in theatre and in art. But I’m not stupid; I know that arts education isn’t going to replace any regular education and I especially know that art isn’t going to feed hungry kids. 

There was one little girl I worked with this school year. She was always hungry. She came to drama club regularly, but she was always hungry. All of her characters were hungry. All of her plot lines were about getting food. She loved drama, but it didn’t make her tummy stop rumbling.

BUT

(I’m trying to think here…)

(hungry kids make it hard to see a brighter side)

4. I got a call about teaching creative drama this summer. I don’t know the whole story, but I guess the Reading School District isn’t offering the summer school/free lunch programs they have offered in the past (see #3). So local non-profits (I don’t know who, but I’m guessing churches and Boys and Girls Clubs) are stepping up as much as they can to offer lunch and programming during the day. Which gives me hope again. I can’t fill their bellies, but I can fill their hearts and imaginations once their bellies are full. 

It just puts everything in perspective. 

Woman

My good friend, the Incredible Exploding Head, just wrote a great piece about being a Woman. Mostly having to do with being a Mother vs. Not. She got me thinking about my own mother-ness.

I had a rough day. I’ve had a rough series of days. I shouldn’t: I have a sweet, funny baby who is very easy going, a devoted and kind husband, a comfortable home, some interesting work. Even friends. In town. Nearby!

But I have very little time that is my own. Which I expected when I decided to have a baby. But I didn’t realize how intense it would be to be needed all the time.

I think of myself as an introvert and an extrovert. I usually feel shy, not quite knowing what to say, but at the same time, wanting to be with people. I used to (wait, I still do) work/write at a cafe, not in my home office (what home office – ha!). I like taking classes. I like sitting in audiences. I don’t really like talking in front of people (acting is different…).

The introvert part of me needs alone time to reboot. A 7 minute shower every morning isn’t enough.

Most people don’t talk about this part of being a mother. The part where you stop being you.

I keep thinking to myself, when Abraham goes to school, I will practice yoga for real. I will start a theatre company. I will read books quickly. I will be me again.

This is a terrible approach. I am me. I am the same person who wanted to have a baby in the first place. If I put myself on the shelf (sorry for that rhyme), how can I be a good mother, dare I say my ideal mother, for Abraham? How can I be a good wife, step mother, friend, anything? Much less artist, teacher, leader…

I feel terrible every time I leave Abraham with a babysitter or even David, because I love leaving. I love going to the coffee shop with my laptop and writing. I love going to the yoga studio and teaching. I love meeting my friend for lunch and brainstorming theatre ideas for the company we want to get off the ground.

Which is not to say that I don’t love being with him. I do. I do so much. I love watching him discover the world. I love that when he cries a little, it shocks me because I think of him as a person not really a baby. I love watching him eat, sleep, poop, laugh, read…everything. But I love it most when I feel most like myself. Which is when I spend some time taking care of my, not him, not David, not anyone else.

I wish I could do both and not feel bad about either.

So, like the Head, who got my brain going in the first place (Head, you are so good at that. I miss you!),  I want to make the next part of my like pretty fucking cool. In Reading, PA.

I’ve got to figure out how to start.

Local

I’m trying to get my friend Kirsten to move to Detroit because I can’t move there. She lives in Ann Arbor and could get a job in Detroit. She is an artist, a yoga teacher, and a compassionate, creative soul. She could do great things in Detroit.

Then I remembered that I live in Reading, a city that could use some compassion and creativity.

Then this morning, I read this article. And I remembered that I could do great things here.

As much as I actually don’t like growing up, I do like discovering the beliefs that matter most to me. If I observe where my own actions lead (because I believe in the cliche that actions speak louder), commitment to local is high on the list (close to importance of family, open time, thrift, and other things). When I worked at Touchstone Theatre, my favorite projects were always the very local pieces we created ourselves. The very personal/local transcends and becomes relevant to everyone, everywhere.

That is what I want to do in Reading.

Value of Art

Americans for the Arts‘ ARTSblog had an interesting article about Art/Artists working in and with Communities.

I tried to leave a comment but was unable, so here are my thoughts:

I have seen, through my own work, that the arts are deeply connected to our communities, through art for art’s sake that is also art for humanity’s sake. I prefer when art is both – why can’t art be quality, creative, and meaningful to more than just us, those who make it.

The challenge I have faced, working independently or as part of a small ensemble, is that artists don’t often have the knowledge to “prove” their value to granters or community leaders, nor do they have the finances to pay someone else to do it.

It is exciting to hear that HUD and Kresge are thinking more broadly about change and encouraging relationships between communities and artists. I hope that it reaches all levels of artists, not just those who are big and known, but also all of us who are small but creating great work.

As I work toward revitalizing the Reading Theater Project, I have these conversations with myself a lot: what is the value of art (of theater)? what kind of art do I want to make? do I want the art to serve the artist or the community? What I keep returning to is YES – I believe that art can do all of these things and we don’t have to choose. We can produce a place, write a play, develop a performance as an ensemble; it can be high quality art and highly creative AND be meaningful to the community we live in.

This is my goal. Maybe I am naive. Maybe it is possible with the right people.

Theatre

Last night, David and I went with my dear friend Joel to see a The Marriage of Bette and Boo, a play from the 80s by Christopher Durang, at the Ephrata Playhouse.

The play was about marriage, children, family, and all the absurdity and sadness that goes along. It was as funny as devastating. I like this about art – its ability to make you laugh and cry at the same time.

The theatre is an excellent community theatre, where I would be interested in volunteering to act (no actors get paid in community theatre), except that they rehearse at night. No way that is happening any time soon.

It keeps becoming more and more clear to me: If I want to make theatre in Berks County, I have to do it myself with the artists I respect and trust. Which is exciting and at times overwhelming. How will I meet more of these artists if I am not out in the community doing theatre? How will I connect with any amount of audience if I am not out in the community doing theatre?

And am I insane for committing to make new theatre when I’m 33 weeks pregnant?!

Art Again

I need to figure out how to be superwoman.

 

I could still look good in a leotard.

 

I have always loved having a million things to do all the time. And I became, I think thought humbly so, very good at balancing all of them. But since being pregnant, I have felt a deep desire to say NO to most things. And I have been, proudly. And to the astonishment of my husband.

But I may have gone too far. I find myself wasting my days reading useless internet pages and compulsively checking Facebook (for what, I don’t even know). I have plenty to do, but I have very little structure unless I make it for myself, which makes it hard for me to even do the little I have do to, much less anything else.

And I’ve been so looking forward to this free time. I just don’t know what to do with free time.

Tonight I went to a meeting called my the new Berks Arts Council Director. He has an idea to create a fringe festival in Berks County. It was very, very exciting to be in a room of mostly community theatre folks who are interested in thinking outside of the proverbial box and making great art happen here.

And, as I am the Artistic Director of the Reading Theater Project (more on this another day…), I am eager to be involved. And I’m having a baby in 2-3 months, which is another thing I have been eager to do for a while. And writing this children’s play I received a grant to do. And other work (teaching arts-in-education, running the Religious School, teaching yoga).

Hence, the need to figure out how to be superwoman. Balance of self and family. Difficult, but a necessity. I don’t think I can function well otherwise.

What Arts Education is not…

I put this article aside about a month ago. I’ve been thinking about it since.

Cultural Participation is Not Arts Education

Agreed. BUT, it is better than nothing, which is what many children are getting from their school and family these days.

Cultural participation means going to a play. Arts Education means doing a play. Very simply.

Last week, the 4th grade classes where I teach Neighborhood Bridges went on a field trip to see Sideways Stories from Wayside School (I snuck in too – my friends were in the show and I wanted to be able to discuss the play with the kids). On that day, Neighborhood Bridges was cancelled. One of the 4th grade teachers said something like

I guess they thought the play would be enough art for one day. They want us to get enough academics in.

The they here is the principal and administration. I know they are under tremendous pressure to raise test scores and get kids to a certain level. And I want to hug and kiss them all as a (creepy) way of saying thanks for having the open-mindedness to see the value of arts education and spend their limited funds on this program.

BUT. Can you really have enough art in one day?! And isn’t art academics?!

All of this is a step in the right direction, and I don’t want to complain. I am so grateful to have the job I have and work with the teachers I do. But if the administration could have heard the questions the kids raised about the play and the process of creating a play, seen their excitement to read the books the play was based on, and read their creative writing inspired by the play, I think maybe their tune would change.

Little by little.

 

 

Rodin

David and I went to the Rodin Museum today in Philadelphia. We had both been to the one in Paris (ooh lala!) and decided to check this one out too. My old favorite sculpture was there.

And I have a new favorite.

Beauty in stone.

I also couldn’t help but notice two incredible things about his sculptures of human faces.

1. they are incredibly expressive. you can see the character oozing from them.
2. many of them don’t have eyes, but still are so expressive. if we believe that the eyes are the doorway to the soul, how do we see so much in these faces?

So I got to thinking…could these faces (or any visual representations of the human) be inspiration for developing characters or a play? Could these faces be turned into masks to use for theatrical performance or exploration?

Of course, as I was thinking about character and story, David was measuring proportions. It is fun to go to the museum together, a scientist and an artist.

Pat on my own back

This afternoon, I was walking down the hall at the elementary school where I arts-in-educate and was stopped by a Kindergarten teacher I worked with over the summer. She said, “I just wanted to tell you that you are the best storyteller I’ve ever seen! You did such a great job with the summer program. I’m glad you are still at this school.”

It made my day.

When I really think about it, a compliment from a teacher is worth more than a fellow theatre artist or educator. She is coming from a completely different point of view and she is the audience I want to reach. If she likes and respects the work, then she will advocate for me (and my co-teaching artists) to come back year after year. She will also take on what she likes about what we do and infuse her already great teaching with a little bit more creativity and art. Which is always good for the kids, especially in our time of testing.

I love hearing that teachers steal my ideas to use in their classrooms. They aren’t even my ideas – all of what we do as theatre artists is such a mix of all the people we’ve worked with and learned from, all we’ve studied, all we’ve experienced. I want to pass it on.

Babies and Art and Life

I’m beginning to think more and more about how having a very small person living life with us will change the way we live.

There are the obvious things that have taken up mental space lately: we have to plan a Bris, we have to decide about cloth diapers (which variety rather than whether or not), we have to have clothes, a bed, etc for this little critter. (And Nathan made me put the baby spoon we use for ice cream in the Raspberry’s drawer, even though he won’t need it for months. Both kids are very aware of his impending arrival and doing their parts to help get ready.)

But as those vital but small issues get settled, the make way for larger issues. How will my time change? How will my mind change?

I recently read two interesting essays about art and family. Though I do many things professionally, I do consider myself an artist. A Theatre Artist, which I can barely say without giggling because I fear it sounds pretentious. I’ve just gotten comfortable with the idea that that is what I am and now it is possible I will move away from it. For example:

I have a very generous grant from the Berks County Community Foundation in 2011 to write a new play for young audiences. I’m very excited about taking on this project and I feel like it is the perfect thing to do in my child’s first year of life. But when I mention it to people (ironically, people I barely know who ask what I do) they get very concerned that I have no idea what I’m getting into and that there is NO WAY I will be able to do anything but be a fountain of food, diapers, and sleep if I’m lucky for the next 18 years.

It makes me want to do the Diva Snap and say something like “You don’t know ME!” and then flip my hair and walk away.

But they don’t know me! Though I have been saying no to things (although I just joined a committee yesterday), I want to have artistic projects going. Obviously life will change when Raspberry arrives, but I hope to involve him in the art too! Why not!