wind and weariness

uday ("ew,die!")
wanders through the house
unsure of where things are
a guest not yet felling at home.

.......

sometimes i get this way
by body is all tense
there's no release in stretching
no space
no freedom
no place where i can let go
be alone in my body
escape
not be so aware that i'm being watched
not paying so much attention to the outside noises
i'm feeling restricted by the constant reminder
yes, evan there is a whole world outside.

trying to feel my feet on the floor
"find your place to stand"
a teacher told me once
i'm pressing my feet into the floor
like nails i think of jesus hanging on a cross
or a tiger when i'm
holding myself up by my hands
or a monkey jumping
because it's the only thing i can do
that gets me out of my head.

....


cohdi comes over and pounces on me
and i let him
we're entangled in some close knot for a brief second
and i am frozen
paralyzed
for all to see
i don't know what to do.
he's touching me
cohdi's touching me
and i don't know what to do.

...

anne arrived last night
and they're all off and running
out and about
looking for an instrument
shopping
for a gong or a bell
something to bang loudly to get everyone's attention
in the workshops, that is
when everything seems like it's swirlling out of control.
we need one of those. a bell to bring it all back down to zero.

seeing anne in india
jetlagged but still posessing an animal-like sexual power
she walks with it
she knows it
she turns heads.
our group is changing.
a new wind is whispering it's arrival.

anne.
she's a force in any group
she takes her space
and moves freely without inhabitions
from one position to the next
she adjusts when she needs to

when she needs to move she does.

i stayed behind
today
didn't go shopping
i'm staying here
not moving
i'm in one place
not changing anything
because the tools have escaped me.
i'm floating between worlds, you see
and my clown nose is all i have to hold on to.

as bad as it gets
when it gets bad
i can put it on
and be something else
something i know the shape of
the sounds of
the look and the effect of

and it scares me that i like life through those eyes more than my own.


.....


reading THE MOVING BODY: TEACHING CREATIVE THEATRE again, i flip to any page that my fingers choose and i find what i need.

"people discover themselves in relation to their grasp of the external world....neither belief nor identification is enough-- one must be able to genuinely play."

and thoughts occur about the AUDIENCE playing/living with an awareness of "the other."

"a person expressing himself is not necessarily being creative. the ideal, of course, would be for creation and expression to go hand in hand, in perfect harmony. many people enjoy expressing themselves, "letting it all hang out," and they forget that they must not be the only ones to get pleasure from it: spectators must recieve pleasure too."

....

joking about sexual tension is the only way to work through it. when it's thick like smog and you can feel it far away, i look for ways to diffuse it, point out the obvious, play the clown, make it bigger than it is, get swept up, lost, lose my ballance.

i'm working off of physical cues. on a stage we set together. an arm itch, opens the space for a leg to cross, opens the way for a glance at the moon, opens the way for a throat to clear, opens the way for a sigh.

on the taxi ride back from the airport last night, the air was sharp, shiny, electric. cohdi said goodnight and walked away and an unsatisfied sense of near-closeness haunts me, brushed up against and then a quick retreat, like a turtle senses danger, like a dusty mole hole hiding in the earth. and i don't know what side i'm on. what i'm rooting for.

......

we performed ESCAPE ARTIST last night, i did a clown pre-show, as planned. the lights and sound (my part of things) went super well. i was very happy with my tech team the school provided.

there was a moment clowning when i lost control. there was a swarm of kids and they were attacking me. chasing me on stage, up the aisles. hitting me, laughing, pushing me over, because they knew i would fall. and i had lost all the power in the situation, i was their fool.

feeling powerless as a clown is devastating. unable to guide the action forward. to hear and respond. to make a movement in any direction, and be stalled.

i loved their joy, their freedom, the permission they felt each had to leave their seats and engage with me.

the line between. a gray line. someplace where safety is questioned and chaos sneaks through the cracks. i am living here now, in this gray place. maybe just for the day, a few more hours, or minutes. i am feeling it now. stuck in the middle of some chasm. everything in question. everything uncertain. no clear way through the thicket to the road that leads me home.

.....

uday picks up the phone and dials someone he can talk to in his first language
he helps himself to the phone
and i see him
and the look on his face lacks appology (not that it needs one)
but i get the feeling it's because he is taking care of himself
he needed to call someone, he knows that, and so he did.

we're both here in the silence of this place
but his voice is coming out loud and clear.