rainy monday

I just went for a great run in the rain.I know for a fact I've said this before but since it's still true-- sometimes running in the rain is a good time for a cry. That's okay. Crying is okay. It's good to feel things. Life is really incredible sometimes. And people. Like this girl. And her basil plants. And her big, big heart. You have to sort of lean in because she's really quiet. But it's worth it.

only skin

I'm obsessed with this song right now. The band is called Spring Standards and I saw them play at Ars Nova on Monday night. I really love them and Heather's voice epsecially. I want to work with them. Or just play this song again and again and again. I have a little free time today, and the past couple days, and whenever that happens I feel compelled to do three things: 1. Reach out to friends I've been out of touch with 2. Read the books I've been meaning to read and watch the movies I've been meaning to watch. 3. Write a great script. The third one is the hardest of course. For me writing is often a way to try to put into words something I've experienced or am trying to remember. The act of describing it, trying to be as specific and truthful as possible, is a way of getting closer to the thing itself. Or the time and place. Or the person. Even though I really love words and feel like a 'verbal' person, I really do think more in images and movement. When I can't think of the word for something I can usually see the thing happening (in my mind's eye, as Hunter would say), and my body moves into it's idea of the expression or quality of that word. I can also see some of the letters. The same thing happens on a larger scale when I'm trying to tell a story. Like in a play. I see what it should look like (to me) and how people should move before I hear how the words sound. I guess that makes me a 'visual' person. I also love when storytelling happens 'non-verbally.' Like in transitions or in dance or at a rock show. Or a silent meditation probably. There are probably all kinds of stories being told at silent rituals. Even though I love improvising and generating dialogue out loud, when I try to write scripts they are often really full of descriptions of what the camera or the audience sees. I think that is not so good. When I try to write dialogue, I feel like I'm subconsciously playing some sort of memory game where I'm trying to get down what happened once, between me and some other person. I might do something really crazy like switch the genders or the time period or something, but it's not completely original either. Not at all. Alright, enough jibber jabber. I'm going to stop making excuses and try to write now. Right now.

jump jump jump

The past week and a half have afforded me a bunch of extremely wonderful and one truly horrible occasion to reflect on life and death and babies and peanuts and growing up and expressing oneself. Colt Coeur did our (2nd annual!) free play-making workshop with Brooklyn middle school students and over the course of a week 18 original plays were created... and all kinds of other magic that can be quantified occurred too. The other thing is too sad to talk about and there's no silver lining so I'm not going to try and slap one on there. When in Boston I also got to visit with 6-week old Carys and 4 year-old Callum though. They are my "bee's knees" ... even though I don't know what that means exactly. Callum is doing a lot of counting and some basic addition and he kept pointing out that Carys "isn't even 1 yet... she's just zero." My sister likes to say how much Carys likes this or that outfit, or this or that 'jumping' activity, which I find really funny and endearing. Carys can't talk yet but she does look really happy in all the outfits and when my sister lifts her up quickly and says, "Jump jump jump." She has already changed so much since she was born. Callum was also asking me how old I would be when he is 40 and if we would ever be the same age. I said no because I didn't want to confuse him. The he said "I'm going to have a bigger life than you," which, when pressed, seemed to mean that he is going to live longer because he is younger than me. He explained, "not everybody dies at the same time... that's silly." When I started to look a little sad thinking about how old I'll be when he will be 40, he immediately offered, "We'll still have a long life together." Which is so true. And for that I am grateful. Steven Levenson sent me this today and I love it.

crazy kids

I love how free-spirited these kids are and I hope they won't feel like they have to stifle or censor themselves as they get older.
I also hope their classes get more diverse!
I also really like this band. I had never heard them before.
Thanks for sharing, Will.

two messages I believe in.

watch this:


That made my eyes tear up. For me, sixth grade was the worst. I felt really, really alone and weird and like there was something wrong with me. The boy in the trailer breaks my heart because I just know he is going to the best and coolest kind of person ever if he can just get through the next 5-7 years. I wish he could know that I care about him. And think he's so much cooler than the a-holes behind him on the bus. I wish he could know that everything really is going to get better.

Around the time I was in 6th grade (really from 2nd grade through 6th grade) I loved to listen to a storybook on tape every night as I was falling asleep. I listened to the same one over and over. Which was also the book that was the first book I read aloud but I'm not going to say what the title of it was because you might become distracted from the point I'm really trying to make, about how wonderful it is to listen to someone tell a story in the dark. I listened to this as I was falling asleep the other night and I recommend it highly. Will has a great voice, a sort of ambiguously regional but extremely local-feeling radio station voice, and also a great voice in the other sense. listen here. (I especially recommend the interview/play that starts a little over 18 minutes in.)

I don't know what to say.

I've been taking a lot of pictures lately. That is one thing I love about traveling. Or even just the sensation of traveling. (I'm here working, and theoretically my days are not so different in their component parts than my days in NYC, however, it all feels different. Either because I'm different or the environment is different or as is most likely the case, both.)
The problem is I forgot the cord that moves the pictures from my camera to my computer. So they are stuck there. Silent.
It's been a big day. I went to Berkeley for the first time in my life after at least 14 years of anticipation and excitement. (I liked the way Jennifer Egan wrote about it and what it felt like to be there in The Invisible Circus; and I also thought Anna Godberson and her black eyeline and hoop earrings were pretty cool in college.) I walked around the Cal campus which I loved, though it did remind me of Santa's Village. I think that's good on both the Cal groundskeepers and the Santa's Village designers. I loved all the 'wooded paths,' wooden bridges over creeks, and nettles on the ground. I wonder what my life would have been life if I'd gone there. Like Sam Glickman. (There's a name from the past!)
I also visited Berkeley Rep which was gorgeous and growing in a rather mind-blowing way. Beth Garfield generously connected me to her old friend Marjorie Randolph who's the Board Chair there and she showed me around and we got to talk and meet people and Les Waters (who I really admire). I also ate an excellent Yellow Curry at the Thai Restaurant and had a feeling the whole time I was there that I'd be back. A good feeling.
The rest of the day and evening were somewhat more complicated and I think I am still processing them. Flu Season is going well but not easily. More on that as it becomes available.
I should try to rest now. Tech at 9am tomorrow.
Goodnight.

Tree of Life

by Terrence Malick.
I just watched it and loved it.
For many reasons but the chief of which is it's economy of words. It is a rich and beautifully-told story about a boy, his dad, their family, and the evolution of the universe, the Earth, animals, etc. In that spirit, less is more words-wise tonight.