Paris Makes Me Feel Like Dancing

Another example of why I love music from overseas. I cannot get enough.

13

Happy Friday the Thirteenth! :)

Just an update post (mostly to motivate myself and rewrite and organize my To-Do list FOR THE FORTY FIFTH TIME THIS WEEK) on what I'm doing:

PRO: One internship application sent out!

CON: They begin reviewing them March 9th.

PRO: Figured out one project monologue to do!

CON: Sacrificing Caesar time in order to do it.

PRO: Contacted teachers who I need information from!

CON: They won't email me back.

PRO: Began working on class music!

CON: It's impossibly complicated and stupidly long and I hate it and can't play piano.

PRO: Have a to-do list!

CON: Keep revising it to make compromises because there's no way in hell it's all getting done to my standards.

PRO: Have an idea for my big acting project!

CON: IT'S NEVER GETTING DONE IT'S NOT RIGHT I DON'T HAVE ANYTHING READY I NEED EMAILED ANSWERS PLEEEEEEASE

PRO: 24 hour trip to SCSU next week!

CON: ... Only 24 hours?

Yuuup.

Magic

I'm just bad at posting regularly.

Some magical moments from my winter break.

Got to see this fantastic, mind blowing production before I came home for break, and literally the only words I had to describe it afterwards were "baptized with joy." It's beyond explanation - "Fuerza Bruta" means "brute force" in Spanish, and the whole thing is simply an explosion of non-stop visual, audible, and emotional impact. I'm a better person, somehow, for having seen it.

Got about two and a half weeks of hometown happiness with my family and cats for the holidays. We all managed to get sick in rotation, so that kind of sucked, but it was wonderful being home.

Back in NYC now, got to spend the weekend with Commando (who I saw Fuerza with and don't have the words for how much I love him), and went to the most magical little gathering I've ever been to on Sunday night.

Ken Schatz (the one and only, who else?) hosts an event known as Exceedingly Good Song Night, in which men and women of every age and creed cozy up in a tiny back room of a bar, drink beer, eat food, and entertain with folk tunes and sea shanties. A concertina ( CLICK THIS LINK ) appeared from the recesses of the group, two guitars, and one instrument I can't quite name, something like a fretted dulcimer, but part of it was upright, and they would join in when they knew the song. It was close and warm and almost hazy, and the songs had such history and some were so rollicking I could hardly keep in my chair. But that room seemed a step out of time when some of the men closed their eyes and in their old, rocky voices began singing ballads of miners and Irish pubs and friends lost in war - I've never seen anything like it, and I'm dying for next month's installment. Perhaps next time I'll have a ditty prepared and earn a few friends in the folk tune crowd.

Hunkering down in my quiet apartment and trying to get a lot of schoolwork done today. But my heart isn't in it. I ache in lots of ways. When I bid Ken goodbye after the folk songs, he hugged me and asked, "When are you free of this school? The school that is holding you down and keeping you away from making art?" Slightly in jest, of course, but he did mean it. He introduced me to his fellow theatre friends as 'a very good actress' and he has never once seen me act. I want my own life. I know I need to be here right now, but I want my own bedroom, I want to work normal hours, have weekends off, live the life I want to live. I'm trapped in a cage I put myself in and pushed the key just out of my reach, all on purpose. And it's just a matter of hanging in there for a few more months, but I'm itching to scream and have what I want.

A week or so of freedom before I'm pinned down again. Let's see what I can do until then.