thewrittenword

i have recently been exploring - perhaps re-exploring or even rediscovering completely might be better terminology - the long form written communication technique known as the letter. ok, in actuality i have been using email as form, but substance has all been letter. a friend, one might say my only friend, lives a very long ways away. she has many jobs and also looks after her family. this makes her quite busy. we have communicated off and on for the last several years mostly through IM/chat of various types. however, of late her work situation has made even that infrequent method difficult. i suppose i could call, or she could call me, but international rates still aren't free. there are alternatives, but for some reason we have never tried skype or even the video chat available in google (and no i do not know why; perhaps someday i will avail myself of these options, but not as of now.)
which leaves us with...
the letter. email. long form written communication.
whatever.

surprisingly, i have been enjoying it.
i will admit it is often difficult to get started and i still wonder what to say, but so far, she hasn't been unhappy with the attempt. at least not that she has said to me.
so i will continue to write. erratically. spontaneously. inarticulately.
maybe someday, i will even use (gasp) a pen. and paper.
imagine the horror.
i know.
me too.

try it out. let me know what you think of it.
write me.

out.

ps. i will be reposting this on google+. if you follow both, you can write me twice. or just skip one and see what happens.

post-out.

aida

here i am.

been gone a while.

need to work on that.

again.

still.

just finished designing a production of aida.

for a high school.

so much fun. i mean it.

no sarcasm intended.

the kids were a blast. i forgot how much i like teaching. small groups, not the whole class. but still, when i had a few of them and we were working on something and i could explain what we were doing and why and sometimes even the history behind such things...

too much fun.

tons of work. i think people underestimate how much work goes into a high school production. in fact, one could argue they are harder and more effort than professional productions.

no trained crews, no professional skill sets, teenage angst, etc, etc, etc...

my understanding and appreciation of all those teachers go through has increased. 

the director/drama teacher and the musical director/vocal teacher have put in too many hours to count, sacrificing time, family, food and money to make something the kids could be proud of; should be proud of.

what a fantastic group of young students they have.

this is not an easy show. singing, acting, dancing, costumes, quick changes, props, sound, music, microphones, lighting, spotlights...

as anyone in this industry knows, there are many times many elements in any production, but the big musicals seem to bring them all on at once.

and these kids, these performers and crew, these theatre people make it look easy.

is it perfect? no. 

is it ever?

it is perfect watching a group of students threading the shallow waters on their way into the deep, deep oceans of theatre and performing arts.

it is perfect watching a great show performed by talented people.

every story is a love story.

this is the story of me falling in love with theatre, and the people who make it, all over again.

out.

more misogyny. sorry.

so as i have been looking over the last few weeks o my life, i have discovered a somewhat misogynistic tendency. now, i would like to think i have somewhat of a basis for it, but one could say it is definitely there. of course, i don't want people to think i really hate women. i don't. i love women. i think women are the most beautiful of all god's creations. i think they are exquisite creatures of meaning and aesthetic, the perfect blending of form and function.
and all of them will never want me in any meaningful, romantic or close relationship.
i don't hate them. and its not that i don't trust them. rather i trust them completely...
to fuck me over. to screw with my head. to make me suffer. to torture me.
and of course, like all good masochists, i want one.
to the women who will disagree with me (you know who you are) i tried. i tried hard. i thought things were good.
i was wrong.
they lie.
the deceive.
every time i turn around it gets worse.
so before you can castigate me any further over my self-deprecation and hatred for the conniving wenches who have once again torn my heart out and stomped on it with their pretty little feet, here's the deal.
show up at my house with a funny, beautiful, intelligent, passionate woman who will at least go out with me before she decides i am not worth the time to tell "fuck off" to, and maybe, just maybe we can have a conversation.
until then, i will never believe.

 out.

women. can't live with 'em. can't kill 'em all.

so it turns out there was never any shot with the previously mentioned girl.

she was lying to me.

you know, i can understand a girl not liking me. i can understand a girl not wanting to talk to me, be around me or have anything to do with me whatsoever. i may not like it, i may not want it, but i can understand it. but at least have the basic human courtesy to tell me to my face. if your intention is not to screw with me, then just say so. but ignoring calls and texts when you tell me to call you, in fact you put your phone number in my phone? being nice to my face, then sneaking out the back door without saying anything, not even goodbye? that's just cruel.

so to all of you who think i should find a nice girl and settle down, bite me. there is no such creature. the only women who are, have been or ever will be nice to me are women who are safe. married, long term relationships, etc etc; in some fashion unavailable.

unattainable goes without saying.

out.

twitter repeat

Muscle spasms + pain + drugs + late night + sick + heartbreak = my life last 48 hours

dumbass again.

proved again today what a colossal fuck up i am.

and of course, it was about a girl.

i have no excuses.

i am just plain good old fashioned stupid.

instead of thinking and talking and finding things out, i just reacted. poorly.

i may have lost my chance with her.

someday, maybe i wont be so bad at this.

yeah, right.

out.

In case you were wondering, the head is not the best tool for opening the oven...

Tonight in 80s -Ville. For some reason wishing I had someone to share with. Guess that just became you...

today.

so, still no idea what my life is, was or will be.

designed a show. seemed to go... something.

parts of it were fun as hell, parts were just hell, but the show turned out pretty well. it looks good. i have been told there will be pictures. once there are, i will try to post some. not sure why. i think there might be one person who ever looks at this blog. but i want her to see the pictures. so there.

:p

i am also trying to get some pictures from a couple other recent shows i have done.

here's to that.

out.

I feel my life is dead end. I have no consistent income or work options with no benefits. I have had some very fun shows lately but they are few, far between and not the highest income bracket I've ever played in. But there is no where to go. Too few shows in this town for too few companies and too many designers. I don't really even know what I want anymore. Stay in the business or move on.
The feelings of loss, lost and abject fear drive me to a position of total inactivity.
So I do nothing.
Again.
Still.

Out.

The machine. It lives. It consumes material in a never-ending whine of screaming metal shredding whatever it runs into. The noise. The vibration. It drives into you. Your ears throb with the agony of tortured wood. Your bones ache will the pulsating rhythm of cutting edge and its odd shaped arms traversing the material bed. Your lungs coated in dust spewed from the voracious appetite of tightly controlled destruction. Finally sated, the eager monster shuts down. Peace and piece. Until the next one.

Penske preventative maintenance. ftw.

...

You can't really see the other two people also using phones. Taken from my phone...

My view

Before...

club night again

i hide in the basement

the people come

they consume libations

they gyrate in strange rhythms

that may or may not

bear any resemblance to the beat

thump thumping throughout

men from tshirt to suits

women in dresses, pants, shirts

or less

the pounding inundates my consciousness

throbbing in my head

taking music i may or may not enjoy

revamping it

changing it

"dj-ing" it

destroying it

surrounded by the sea

of human interplay

at least i am alone

forever

out

10day travelogue day...

...back home for 2weeks and bored at work.

but i am not going to take the time to try and tell you about the rest of the trip. or about anything that has happened since. i will do so later. but not now.

i just wanted you to know i am aware i have not told you yet.

out.

10day travelogue day 5

ok, so i missed a few days. i'm working on it.

for those of you who missed the previous reports (mostly because i didn't post them) here is a brief recap.

work trip driving to nashville for utah opera. not for an opera. just a set they built for a convention.

day one. woke up late. left salt lake 2 hours later than expected. drove to sydney nebraska. -3 F plus wind chill. a wee bit brisk.

day two. woke up. mustache froze in 30 feet between hotel door and truck door. truck takes way too long to warm up. drove to independence missouri. encountered some snow. encountered some idiots. the two do not mix well. must have been a car off the road on average of ~1/mile. drove 700 miles. you do the math.

while in middle nebraska, heard a local sherriff doing a radio bit about driving safety. talked about people needing time to get "snow-legs" back. the said, "in the first storm of the year, you expect people to need a little time to adjust. but its january people."

when stopped in independence, could barely open rear truck door. snow buildup added ~75lbs.

day three. woke up. drove to nashville tennessee. some time east of independence, i-70 eastbound was closed for an accident. barely missed getting caught in the parking lot. got there just after the police officer who started shunting traffic off the exit. moving at 5 miles an hour down the frontage road was much better than sitting and waiting for the accident to clear. and it was entertaining to watch the 53' trailers and fed-ex doubles trying to make the 90deg turns on a narrow rural frontage road. took 45min to clear the 4 miles of parked vehicles behind the accident and get back to the freeway.

nashville had an inch or so of snow. whole city shut down. restaurant next to hotel closed an hour early. not happy. had to order pizza.

day four. woke up. went to lunch. checked out of hotel late. picked up boss from the airport. entertaining doing so in a box truck. trying to figure out where i could go through the terminal was almost a disaster. fortunately i learned to read so noticed the sign that allowed me to pass through.

checked into opryland hotel. hotel is bigger than most small cities. finding your room requires a guide, map, and several pack animals to carry your luggage to the far reaches of the world.

evening brought the load in of the two separate sets. one for the product showcase, a small wall and floor combo piece. then the larger set for the main stage of the conference. there were some issues, but ultimately we got out of there with a pretty decent finished product. at 3am.

day five. woke up. eventually. boss and me went to breakfast, then took him to the airport. didn't feel so good so went back to hotel and took a nap. woke and had mediocre dinner. still no feeling so good. hopefully i will sleep tonight. naps can throw that off.

more to come. later. maybe tomorrow. maybe not.

out.