always take the plunge

Yesterday I sat on the shore and watched a woman standing in the water.

I had already been in. It was great.
But taking the plunge is always the hardest part.

As a frequent swimmer in the North Atlantic,  I prefer to dive right in, instead of standing and shivering. But as I sat drying off on the beach, I watched the woman stand and shiver, and I wanted to yell "Go ahead, it will be great once you're in"

I was reminded of a quote by Goethe
"Plunge boldly into the thick of life, and seize it where you will, it is always interesting. "
and suddenly this woman became a metaphor for Capital L Life.

But I didn't shout out.
Instead, I took her picture

smile though your heart is breaking

Today I woke up to a world without Robin Williams.
 It is a sadder place.

The news came down yesterday, status' and tweets flowing like falling like tears. One of our brightest, our greatest has gone.
And what makes it harder is that he chose to leave.

Robin Williams has been a part of our lives for so long, it's hard to imagine that this zany, manic magic man is no longer with us.

It would have been sad if he had died suddenly due to accident or illness, but the fact that he chose suicide seems unfathomable. It always does. It is hard to get your head around the fact that someone so gifted, who touched so many,  had  suffered those demons and let them take him away.

I am unhappy to say that I have lost people to suicide. I'm sadder to say that I can no longer count on one hand how many. Each one is devastating. Each one rips a piece of you. It doesn't become easier, it only becomes familiar.

Whenever this happens, we remind ourselves, each other,  to cherish each other, each moment. But still, we are never prepared. It is always a shock, even if it is not a surprise.

We think how sad it is that the person who touched so many, could feel so alone.
We wish they knew how much they were loved.

They do.
They just don't understand why.

When you stand on the edge of that cliff you have only two views: the endlessness below or the emptiness behind. You only have two choices: fall forward or fall back. And when you choose to fall forward, into the abyss, it is because the emptiness behind is heavier. And when you stand at that edge, it is the saddest, loneliest,  darkest place you could ever be.

There are those who say that suicide is selfish.
But it is intended as the most selfless of actions.
It is meant, not just to end the suffering, but to end the burden of those who love you. So they don't have to helplessly watch what you've become. Or stopped being. 


Someone very dear to me once told me that mental illness was a trickster, that it sent those dark voices to fool you, to take you, but you shouldn't listen.
I wish every day that he had taken his own advice. I wish they all had.
But one by one, the stars go out, and a bit more darkness is let into the world.
 And all we can do is fumble around, and try to remember the light.


Carpe Diem.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=veYR3ZC9wMQ

out of site..sight... sigh

Ummm... remember when a jet went missing with close to 300 passengers? And also when over 200 girls were stolen from their school? Why are we not still talking about this?

 I'm just baffled as to how this many people can disappear, and then don't matter past sensationalism and sound bites

idle no more

I haven't written in a while.
Nothing.
Nothing physical anyway. 

Every so often.. well, actually, very often, I write in my head. I compose and compile and compartmentalize. It's just a matter of getting it down.
But I don't get it down.
I am not down with getting it down.
I know it is bad when I procrastinate more on writing than I do on cleaning. In fact, I have been organizing my home more to avoid sitting down and making a commitment to a short story, a chapter.. hell, even a blog entry.

And therein lies the rub. Ish.
I have so many options, I can't decide on which one. I can't determine to which voice I should listen, and then give its own new voice.

It's the same way with too many choices on a menu.
No matter how hungry I am, if there are too many options, I have seen myself just leave.
And with writing, I will do the mindless equivalent ; sometimes I just play Candy Crush.
Or I used to play Candy Crush. Until I found out how much they track their players and it freaked me out and I deleted the game.
But I digress.

How my mind works. (It is also my habit to edit photo's I've taken so as to avoid writing.

 )

The point is no one's voice is being heard. Outside of my head, that is.
Oh I hear them. I hear them plenty. I see them as well.
They stare at me, speaking with their eyes
I am like the kid in the sixth sense who sees dead people.
Only I see fully formed unborn people, or pieces of people all stitched together to make a whole new one. I see these vehicles for stories and situations that need to come out and yet they sit, like a car idling in the garage.
It makes me want to go to sleep.

critiquing the critics

As a Theatre student, I was taught to be critical.
Constructively.

If we watched a scene, the director/professor would ask for opinions afterward. There was no such thing as simply saying "I liked it" because he would always push for why.

We began to dissect... everything. Lights, direction, acting, costumes, sets... to question every choice the production's director and actors made.

Sometimes I wish I never took that course.

There is no way I can separate myself from the critique.
Every time I watch a live performance my mind is constantly whirling, as ears, eyes and brain combine to make a fine tooth comb of analysis, running it through the hair of the performance as deliberate as looking for lice.
It happens with film, music and books as well, although I tend to be harder on the stage because this is where it began. It has just spilled over into other areas of art.

Of course there is nothing wrong with constructive criticism but I have to remind myself that not everyone has the same background, same experience.
But inevitably when I emerge from a performance, someone will ask the question
"what did you think?"

Ugh.

I'm sure friends who ask roll their eyes inward, waiting for me to hate it and tear it apart.
I should just say I liked it, and move on. But it doesn't sit well in my guts.
I'm sure it comes off as pompous, as if I think could do better.  I don't. Okay, in some cases I do, but in fairness, in some cases my cat could also do a better job.
 
One of my pet peeves with local theatre here in Nova Scotia is not as much with the productions, but with the audiences. It seems that people misunderstand the purpose of the standing ovation. It would appear that if anyone walks across a stage, it is applauded by jumping to your feet. But by far, the worst culprits are the local reviewers who always praise, never picking out anything that could and should be addressed, something  to be improved upon.

While it is very kind to want to be so supportive, it breeds mediocrity and unwarranted ego. How can an artist grow if s/he thinks they have no need to improve?
I'm not speaking of those critics who hate everything, who feel the need to tear it all down.
Criticism should be constructive, not destructive. It is meant to build toward something better, not to tear something down.

As a performer and director I have been reviewed many times and I can say that if the critique was favorable nine times out of ten, it was the tenth that stayed with me. As a person it is easy to take it personally. As a performer it should be taken as a gift. It puts a seed in the back of your mind that grows into other options, other choices.


However, with all of this being said, I have to remind myself that not everyone thinks this way. Some people enjoy a production simply because they found it entertaining.
I envy that.
It's not fun realizing that the Wizard is just a man behind the screen, or knowing the trick to every illusion.
Every time I answer the question "what did you think?" I obsess about my response for hours afterward. I worry that I offended someone or made them feel that their opinion was invalid.

While it may appear that I am too critical, it is nothing compared to my own review of my review.
Sadly, that voice is not a constructive one.

out with the old

Last year I gave myself a challenge

I would take a picture a day.
It didn't matter what the picture, what the content, it just had to be something I saw in the course of that day.
The purpose of this exercise was two-fold.
First, it was to provide a discipline, to get me in the habit of producing something every day and following it through for 365 days.

Secondly, it allowed me to really pay attention to, and be aware of, my surroundings.
And third, it enabled me to be creative.

This year I have issued myself another challenge.
I will still take a shot a day, but each week will follow a theme, and each photo will be my interpretation.


So here's my first offering.
It wasn't something I saw, it was something I staged; something I created.
The theme is "Out with the Old"

out with the Auld...lang syne

i have been both

not sure which scares me more