( I could use some help finding a title <3 ALSO: FEEDBACK WOULD BE MUCH APPRECIATED)
I could fall in love with you---
head over heels and into a ditch
fall like I was pushed out of a moving car
and tumble down into the grass
and get green stains on my dress
and I could smile and I could care less
because I would be too busy falling in love with you.
I could fall in love with you if I wanted to.
I just don't want to.
I've seen what happens to girls like me in the movies,
I know the ending---and not all endings are happy-
so let's pause the screen while we're ahead,
and leave it there
frozen in time
a time when I was too young to know what falling was,
a time when you were too beautiful to even talk to--
you must think I'm silly,
because I'm writing a poem--
I think you're silly because you think this poem is about you
you think this poem is about me pining away my feelings
you think this poem is about how I can't think without you,
that the world can't spin without you,
that I can't live without you.
This isn't your poem.
This is a poem about me,
This is a poem about me and love,
This is a poem about me and movies,
This is a poem about me and falling
and skinning my knees---
Just because I've tripped over you,
doesn't mean that I fell for you.
I could fall for you,
but I have a little more self respect than to put my happiness inside of someone else's hands,
I've been there before at the bottom of that barrel
I felt a boy's hands clasp around my heart
and squeeze the love out of me like a sponge;
like everything inside of me wasn't natural
that it was only meant to be there temporarily
to hold it and release it
pour it out of my soul
onto someone else's hands
and get dry and hard--- and discarded like a kitchen cleaning utensil.
I'm not a sponge,
I am a girl, dammit!
Sometimes at night I think of what it would be like
to let you hold me---
but I know that the night is for dreaming
and that reality is the sun and it's coming soon
I can see it over the horizon
But reality isn't necessarily all that bad
I like who I am when the sun wakes up
and shines it's rosy cheeks in my direction
Who would have guess that in the end, I would actually like myself.
Not me, that's for sure---
Not you, either---
You told me that you found my lack of confidence charming.
You told me that you found my insecurities: interesting,
my innocence alarming, my school girl naivety; impressive.
If this was freshmen year,
I would have fallen for you.
I would have let myself fall out of that car and tumble down that hill
right into the sewer gutter
and I wouldn't have moved because I would hope to think that you would go down there and save me and that we could be happily ever after----
But this isn't freshmen year----
and I know that when I fall down,
I was given hands and legs to help me pick myself up
I'm not a potato
I can do things.
Give me doors to open
Give me roofs to raise,
Give me hands to hold,
Give me hearts to break---
Give me someone who would fall for me----
Cuz I'm done falling.
I've done my share of broken foots, and black medical boots
I've said my lines in the script
Give me a pen and a paper
Let me write my own ending
I don't know if it will be happy
But I know it will be mine.
Tomorrow will be mine.
Thursday, January 30, 2014
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
MY ATTEMPTS AT SPOKEN WORD
So I am freaking out about what to do for the spoken word for senior showcase: so here I go! JUST WRITING!
NO "stopping" (focus on a topic, don't stop unless I get off topic. If I stop then i move on).
TITLE: To Superman, From a Batman Fangirl
Dear Superman,
The day you dawned that cape you took an oath to me and other outsiders to always protect---and you have broken that promise. You have broken that promise, you have turned the velvet red, into one of dark and deep bloodshed. You have thrown away the underwear, you have turned your baby blue into one of navy and sorrow. I have seen you smile on the big screen, and I can see that it's only in the script and not in your skin--- true, you may have the body of a god, but you are not a god. You are a man, you are a SUPERman--- start acting like it.
The day you said you wanted to be a hero, you went out and saved a girl like me. Swept her off her feet, and held her and never let go. Said that you were hero superman, and the she was your krypton. Now, she is just the side character-- the serious and grimm--- prison of zodd. Snooping and drooping into the scenery, bland and banal--- that is not the Lois Lane I know from the pages I grew up with.
I sat and watched you take my childhood in your hands and crush it into dust--- you tell me that the "S" is a symbol of "Hope" on your planet? You don't know your planet, You are not Hopeman, you are superman-- I can't find a single super thing about you. Wherever you go, you leave destruction and mayhem--- I look up to the sky and I don't see a bird, I don't see a plane, I don't see you--- you who is supposed to be a savior-- maybe I'm just nit-picking---but maybe I'm broken beyond repair, Maybe I shouldn't have put my heart in your hands and bought tickets to see your movie with a boy I thought was my superman. Maybe I shouldn't have let him drive me home, Maybe I shouldn't have let his lips touch mine and let him burn inside my throat---maybe I shouldn't have let him put his hand slightly on the edge of my shirt and then under---- I don't believe in superhero's anymore. They don't save people, real people like me. I wanted you to, I sincerely wanted you to lift me up into the stars and tell me that you were going to be there. I guess that's why I like batman, because at least he was honest enough to tell me that I was far beyond saving. That at least he told me that it wasn't real---that superhero's don't exist--that it's just someone in a costume. You are someone in the skin of a superman, and I just want to be saved---- who's coming to save me---- who's coming to save me?
TITLE: THIS IS AN ANGRY POEM.
This is am angry poem. the end rage.
TITLE: I miss you, so fuck off
You text me. You text me saying "I miss my sweater". You text me saying "I miss my sweater" 4 months of nothing and then " I miss my sweater". Followed by " I miss you more". It brakes my heart because 4 months, I have finally moved on and then a text ruins it all.
This is boring--fuck emtions.
Text: Go the fuck away. <3
TITLE: FRANKENSTEIN
Frankenstein.
The man said Frankenstein.
It stuck to my mind like gum---rolled around like a record, and broke my heart like it was made of glass. Frankenstein-----Jewish?
Frankenstein. Fear. Frankenstein. Novel. Frankenstein. Lady.
Frankenstein. Monster.
Monster---
I may have been three or nearly four,
but I remember that note on my door,
written in glitter sticks and I hate" You. Are.A.MONSTER".
I never found them under my bed---
I found them trapped inside my fingertips,
That time I pushed you down the stairs and meant it.
Did you check for me last night?
I wasn't in the closet.
I don't believe in walls, I don't believe in doors.
I believe in pathways and wormholes.
I believe in ghosts, and ghouls, and fairies, and mermaids, and unicorns, and good people, and MONSTERS.
Don't tell me their not real.
Frankenstein is not a myth,
I have seen the skin sowed onto other skin,
beautiful and disturbing lying on that slab
like you laid on the floor at the base of those 32 steps---
you fell like an angel.
Broken and twisted angel,
A fallen angel--- what a lovely metaphor.
You didn't fall though, you were pushed.
Sometimes people need a little push---
that's what you get for provoking a monster.
Didn't people tell you not to feed the animals in the zoo?
I eat people like you for breakfast.
I can take your heart and grind it into a protein shake before lunch,
And I will do it without thinking twice-
I am NOT a victim of circumstance.
The day I stopped caring about the voices in my head,
was the day I discovered that monster are men---
I don't care if you're sleeping on the bed or under it:
Come as you are,
Come to me so I can hold you
and break you
I have been told for the longest time that monsters are bad,
but I don't believe it.
It happens--like nature.
Do you yell at a lion for killing a gazelle?
Or for a cat that eats away at a mouse?
I take you into my paws and I destroy your hopes,
like a storm I will take away everything
leave roller coasters in the ocean
A force to be reckoned with
Please don't try to stop me it will only make me angry
"you wouldn't like me when I'm angry"
I don't want to be angry,
I just want for once to stretch my arms out
across the universe and touch something without it breaking
I want to put my lips against your cheek
and when I pull away, I don't want there to be burn marks.
I don't want to be in the closet anymore---
I don't want to hide in the corner,
no more monsters---
Monster is a stretch of a name.
Then again being called "lesbo" or "faggot" isn't much better.
But I'm not a Frankenstein, mark that.
I am not made of other people's thoughts or feelings---
I am made of me,
and so help me god, or whoever is up there
I will be made of me
and no one can put that truth in a bottle.
Call me a monster if you want
Bring your torches to my chamber
Knock down that castle door;
Call me a monster to my face
Start the storm
Poke the animal in the cage
and
hear
me
roar.
NO "stopping" (focus on a topic, don't stop unless I get off topic. If I stop then i move on).
TITLE: To Superman, From a Batman Fangirl
Dear Superman,
The day you dawned that cape you took an oath to me and other outsiders to always protect---and you have broken that promise. You have broken that promise, you have turned the velvet red, into one of dark and deep bloodshed. You have thrown away the underwear, you have turned your baby blue into one of navy and sorrow. I have seen you smile on the big screen, and I can see that it's only in the script and not in your skin--- true, you may have the body of a god, but you are not a god. You are a man, you are a SUPERman--- start acting like it.
The day you said you wanted to be a hero, you went out and saved a girl like me. Swept her off her feet, and held her and never let go. Said that you were hero superman, and the she was your krypton. Now, she is just the side character-- the serious and grimm--- prison of zodd. Snooping and drooping into the scenery, bland and banal--- that is not the Lois Lane I know from the pages I grew up with.
I sat and watched you take my childhood in your hands and crush it into dust--- you tell me that the "S" is a symbol of "Hope" on your planet? You don't know your planet, You are not Hopeman, you are superman-- I can't find a single super thing about you. Wherever you go, you leave destruction and mayhem--- I look up to the sky and I don't see a bird, I don't see a plane, I don't see you--- you who is supposed to be a savior-- maybe I'm just nit-picking---but maybe I'm broken beyond repair, Maybe I shouldn't have put my heart in your hands and bought tickets to see your movie with a boy I thought was my superman. Maybe I shouldn't have let him drive me home, Maybe I shouldn't have let his lips touch mine and let him burn inside my throat---maybe I shouldn't have let him put his hand slightly on the edge of my shirt and then under---- I don't believe in superhero's anymore. They don't save people, real people like me. I wanted you to, I sincerely wanted you to lift me up into the stars and tell me that you were going to be there. I guess that's why I like batman, because at least he was honest enough to tell me that I was far beyond saving. That at least he told me that it wasn't real---that superhero's don't exist--that it's just someone in a costume. You are someone in the skin of a superman, and I just want to be saved---- who's coming to save me---- who's coming to save me?
TITLE: THIS IS AN ANGRY POEM.
This is am angry poem. the end rage.
TITLE: I miss you, so fuck off
You text me. You text me saying "I miss my sweater". You text me saying "I miss my sweater" 4 months of nothing and then " I miss my sweater". Followed by " I miss you more". It brakes my heart because 4 months, I have finally moved on and then a text ruins it all.
This is boring--fuck emtions.
Text: Go the fuck away. <3
TITLE: FRANKENSTEIN
Frankenstein.
The man said Frankenstein.
It stuck to my mind like gum---rolled around like a record, and broke my heart like it was made of glass. Frankenstein-----Jewish?
Frankenstein. Fear. Frankenstein. Novel. Frankenstein. Lady.
Frankenstein. Monster.
Monster---
I may have been three or nearly four,
but I remember that note on my door,
written in glitter sticks and I hate" You. Are.A.MONSTER".
I never found them under my bed---
I found them trapped inside my fingertips,
That time I pushed you down the stairs and meant it.
Did you check for me last night?
I wasn't in the closet.
I don't believe in walls, I don't believe in doors.
I believe in pathways and wormholes.
I believe in ghosts, and ghouls, and fairies, and mermaids, and unicorns, and good people, and MONSTERS.
Don't tell me their not real.
Frankenstein is not a myth,
I have seen the skin sowed onto other skin,
beautiful and disturbing lying on that slab
like you laid on the floor at the base of those 32 steps---
you fell like an angel.
Broken and twisted angel,
A fallen angel--- what a lovely metaphor.
You didn't fall though, you were pushed.
Sometimes people need a little push---
that's what you get for provoking a monster.
Didn't people tell you not to feed the animals in the zoo?
I eat people like you for breakfast.
I can take your heart and grind it into a protein shake before lunch,
And I will do it without thinking twice-
I am NOT a victim of circumstance.
The day I stopped caring about the voices in my head,
was the day I discovered that monster are men---
I don't care if you're sleeping on the bed or under it:
Come as you are,
Come to me so I can hold you
and break you
I have been told for the longest time that monsters are bad,
but I don't believe it.
It happens--like nature.
Do you yell at a lion for killing a gazelle?
Or for a cat that eats away at a mouse?
I take you into my paws and I destroy your hopes,
like a storm I will take away everything
leave roller coasters in the ocean
A force to be reckoned with
Please don't try to stop me it will only make me angry
"you wouldn't like me when I'm angry"
I don't want to be angry,
I just want for once to stretch my arms out
across the universe and touch something without it breaking
I want to put my lips against your cheek
and when I pull away, I don't want there to be burn marks.
I don't want to be in the closet anymore---
I don't want to hide in the corner,
no more monsters---
Monster is a stretch of a name.
Then again being called "lesbo" or "faggot" isn't much better.
But I'm not a Frankenstein, mark that.
I am not made of other people's thoughts or feelings---
I am made of me,
and so help me god, or whoever is up there
I will be made of me
and no one can put that truth in a bottle.
Call me a monster if you want
Bring your torches to my chamber
Knock down that castle door;
Call me a monster to my face
Start the storm
Poke the animal in the cage
and
hear
me
roar.
Sunday, January 26, 2014
January 21st, 2014----January 26th, 2014
More informal blogging! (yayyy)
What I have done with my life this week---
1. GIVE A LOT OF FRESHMEN FEEDBACK
2. drink the tears of my enemies
3. Write crappy spoken word poems
4. Fight with parental unit
5. Reach $800 on Indygogo
6. College Interveiws (the final countdown)
1. YA. FRESHMEN PLAYS. (joy). But ya---- I have been reading a lot of---well----things, I wouldn't necessarily call them plays yet---although there are few jems in the pile, the majority of the scripts are not up to parr. However I can see that they are trying---some more than others. Still, I can't wait to hear all of them read in class.
2. Tears of my enemies are delicious. moving on.
3. I got stuck in a parking lot and wrote a spoken word. See previous blog for more on that.
4. COLLEGE
5. We reached $800 on indygogo!!! (YAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY). So proud of (me) and all my other seniors for being able to raise the money to put on the show---now we just need to----put on the show----
6. College interviews!!! DePaul was on Saturday, and that was fun! I think it went very well--I was the first of the day, and hopefully I made their days. But now I'm officially over with the process---and it's just a waiting game---and that scares me. Really--I liked having thinks to do and things to freak out about---it is better than being helpless and waiting for answers.
Fingers Crossed it all comes out well!
It was a short week---so I can't wait for rehearsals on Senior Showcase. I want to get my hands on some paintbrushes and start getting things done!!!
What I have done with my life this week---
1. GIVE A LOT OF FRESHMEN FEEDBACK
2. drink the tears of my enemies
3. Write crappy spoken word poems
4. Fight with parental unit
5. Reach $800 on Indygogo
6. College Interveiws (the final countdown)
1. YA. FRESHMEN PLAYS. (joy). But ya---- I have been reading a lot of---well----things, I wouldn't necessarily call them plays yet---although there are few jems in the pile, the majority of the scripts are not up to parr. However I can see that they are trying---some more than others. Still, I can't wait to hear all of them read in class.
2. Tears of my enemies are delicious. moving on.
3. I got stuck in a parking lot and wrote a spoken word. See previous blog for more on that.
4. COLLEGE
5. We reached $800 on indygogo!!! (YAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY). So proud of (me) and all my other seniors for being able to raise the money to put on the show---now we just need to----put on the show----
6. College interviews!!! DePaul was on Saturday, and that was fun! I think it went very well--I was the first of the day, and hopefully I made their days. But now I'm officially over with the process---and it's just a waiting game---and that scares me. Really--I liked having thinks to do and things to freak out about---it is better than being helpless and waiting for answers.
Fingers Crossed it all comes out well!
It was a short week---so I can't wait for rehearsals on Senior Showcase. I want to get my hands on some paintbrushes and start getting things done!!!
Thursday, January 23, 2014
WHEN STRANDED IN A PARKING LOT (an exposition and a poem)
So this is a bit of an informal bog---but I really wanted to share my "interesting" adventure at my first yoga class.
So there is this yoga class (apparently) at my temple that my mom wanted to go to---and for some reason she thought it would be fun to drag me along...because what is better than an out of shape yenta trying to reach zen? that's right: TWO out of shape yentas trying to reach zen! (I love you mom if you are reading this).
SO---long story short---I was dragged into going.
Now if any of you have the *misfortune* to know me---I don't "zen". I can barley touch my toes----not because I'm out of shape ( round is a shape, just to be clear)---it is because I have a big head, and little arms. I am a human T-rex. Very scary, Very "top-dog". VERY TINY ARMS.
So as you can imagine, yoga really isn't my thing. Yoga is about being peaceful, being accepting, being able to stretch and explore your body---- all these things are FAR out of my element.
However once I arrived, a sudden rush of---dare I say it---happiness--- consumed me. The room smelled of burnt knishes, and sounded of running streams from the amazon. Of course there were only three other women----lets be honest now---- Jewish women aren't really into the whole "zen and exercise" thing. If it doesn't involve free bagels, or a viewing of a Barbra Streisand movie---we normally don't attend. However, there is a certain appeal to yoga. For example :"I heard Jennifer Larwance does this, so it must be good!"
Of course, I would forget to bring a yoga mat----and of course I would forget to even wear yoga pants: so here I am, with a beach towel in my batman and plaid pajama pants---ready to "yoga".
Yoga is enlightening. For example, tonight I was enlightened on exactly how weak I truly am. Like superman who was wearing a suit made of Kryptonite--- I could not hold plank for the life of me. Weather it was Warrior 1----7---394--- My knees would lock and buckle under me, my balance would be askew, and my mind would be wandering around the room checking to see if everyone else as failing just as badly as I was.
Needless to say, I was not very good at it. I did enjoy myself though. I enjoyed being a part of something, i enjoyed trying and failing. The greatest things in life are learned from failures. Now I know where I am mentally and physically---and once you've hit bottom you can only go up!
So I left yoga with an open mind, and shaky knees.
Getting in the car with my mother---we discussed what to do after yoga. What do we do after a spiritual and physical mind-altering experience? Pizza. Fat and delicious--- cheesy pizza. (obviously).
However, fate had something much crueler planned in store for us.
A flat tire.
Out of all things---the plague, a tsunami----no, Fate gave us a flat tire. And to add insult to injury, no WiFi at that. No way to call for help. Barley any heat from the car-- I mean, who needs warmth, when outside is just so peachy?!?! (*eye twitch**eye twitch*).
SO needless to say: both of us were quite agitated. My mother resulted into getting out of the car and searching for WiFi to call AAA---while I took to a more rational route---and began to write a poem.
And here is the fruit of my labor---- (and no, I was indeed rescued from my parking lot isolation. I am home now and warm-ish. Now on with the blog!!!)
"When stranded in the temple parking lot with a flat tire and no-WiFi: think of Florida and me."
When you are stranded in the temple parking lot with a flat tire and no-WiFi
So there is this yoga class (apparently) at my temple that my mom wanted to go to---and for some reason she thought it would be fun to drag me along...because what is better than an out of shape yenta trying to reach zen? that's right: TWO out of shape yentas trying to reach zen! (I love you mom if you are reading this).
SO---long story short---I was dragged into going.
Now if any of you have the *misfortune* to know me---I don't "zen". I can barley touch my toes----not because I'm out of shape ( round is a shape, just to be clear)---it is because I have a big head, and little arms. I am a human T-rex. Very scary, Very "top-dog". VERY TINY ARMS.
So as you can imagine, yoga really isn't my thing. Yoga is about being peaceful, being accepting, being able to stretch and explore your body---- all these things are FAR out of my element.
However once I arrived, a sudden rush of---dare I say it---happiness--- consumed me. The room smelled of burnt knishes, and sounded of running streams from the amazon. Of course there were only three other women----lets be honest now---- Jewish women aren't really into the whole "zen and exercise" thing. If it doesn't involve free bagels, or a viewing of a Barbra Streisand movie---we normally don't attend. However, there is a certain appeal to yoga. For example :"I heard Jennifer Larwance does this, so it must be good!"
Of course, I would forget to bring a yoga mat----and of course I would forget to even wear yoga pants: so here I am, with a beach towel in my batman and plaid pajama pants---ready to "yoga".
Yoga is enlightening. For example, tonight I was enlightened on exactly how weak I truly am. Like superman who was wearing a suit made of Kryptonite--- I could not hold plank for the life of me. Weather it was Warrior 1----7---394--- My knees would lock and buckle under me, my balance would be askew, and my mind would be wandering around the room checking to see if everyone else as failing just as badly as I was.
Needless to say, I was not very good at it. I did enjoy myself though. I enjoyed being a part of something, i enjoyed trying and failing. The greatest things in life are learned from failures. Now I know where I am mentally and physically---and once you've hit bottom you can only go up!
So I left yoga with an open mind, and shaky knees.
Getting in the car with my mother---we discussed what to do after yoga. What do we do after a spiritual and physical mind-altering experience? Pizza. Fat and delicious--- cheesy pizza. (obviously).
However, fate had something much crueler planned in store for us.
A flat tire.
Out of all things---the plague, a tsunami----no, Fate gave us a flat tire. And to add insult to injury, no WiFi at that. No way to call for help. Barley any heat from the car-- I mean, who needs warmth, when outside is just so peachy?!?! (*eye twitch**eye twitch*).
SO needless to say: both of us were quite agitated. My mother resulted into getting out of the car and searching for WiFi to call AAA---while I took to a more rational route---and began to write a poem.
And here is the fruit of my labor---- (and no, I was indeed rescued from my parking lot isolation. I am home now and warm-ish. Now on with the blog!!!)
"When stranded in the temple parking lot with a flat tire and no-WiFi: think of Florida and me."
When you are stranded in the temple parking lot with a flat tire and no-WiFi
--a few things come to mind.
First of all---dear lord: why.
What did I do to deserve this punishment---
In a car so frozen, you could have sworn you heard the engine singing "let it go".
You think to yourself---- dear lord, I'm going to die here---
Sitting in your yoga pants clinging to your seat belt for what little warmth you can find.
You think about warm things:
Florida.
Your mother.
The beach.
Florida.
The amazon.
The boy next door with eyes like the sun that if you look into them you start to burn deep down inside your heart deep down beneath your thighs---
Florida.
You think of Florida a lot.
You think of Florida a lot.
You think of him on the beach in Florida with the ocean sprinkled on his skin like crystal pyramids---
You realize you stole this analogy from a play---
You realize you have stolen your life from a play---
You've read this part before.
Boy meets girl-
Girl falls for boy---
Boy falls for a slut---
Girl gets broken--
Girl goes to yoga---
Girl gets a flat tire---
Girl is stranded in the temple parking lot with no WiFi and a wandering mind---and a broken heart---and thoughts of Florida and you.
Sometimes I think to myself: just knowing you is to love you
Sometimes I think to myself: just knowing you is to love you
Amy Whinehouse and chocolate Jesus all in one
but then I think to myself---
To know me is to know what it feels like to have your face dragged in the mud across town,
Justin Beiber, diabetes---
Maybe it's cold or maybe it's my cold heart---
I'm a bit jaded and jealous of everyone---
Sometimes I want to be with you, sometimes I want to be you--
A part if you:
I want to be your left kidney---
I want to be the white blood cell in your left ventricle:
I want to protect you.
I'm not strong---
I can't even fix a flat tire---
But if I was a roof I would hold myself up day and night to cover you In my love:
Shelter you from the storm: watch over you among the stars---
Oh, the stars are so lucky to be able to see you sleep every night.
Now, I look at the stars, as I hear the AAA truck pull up beside me and ask myself out loud:
When you look at the stars do you see Aquarius?
Or do you see my smile?
If you ever have the misfortune to be stranded in a temple parking lot with a flat tire and no WiFi----
If you ever have the misfortune to be stranded in a temple parking lot with a flat tire and no WiFi----
Don't think of the coldness outside.
Don't think about how long it will take for someone to come and help---
Don't think about how late it is.
Think of Florida and me.
And we will keep you warm for the rest of the night.
I promise
Monday, January 20, 2014
January 13th, 2014-----January 17th, 2014
(EEP!: I THOUGHT I PUBLISHED THIS ON SATURDAY BUT I ONLY SAVED IT AS A DRAFT! SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SORRY THAT IT IS LATE!)
OKAY!
So----this is an informal blog. Because Although I did a lot this week---I didn't really do anything. So the basics of what went down this week:
1. Crying about college
2. Getting my physical and online(ical) portfolio ready for my Ohio Interview
3. Trying to act like a human being
4. cry some more about my awkwardness in practice interviews with my cats
5. Procrastinate on a script commissioned by Young Playwrights
6. With the extreme help of Ms.Aladren, re-write scenes from Swagspeare to match the new cast list
So lets start with 1.
This is pretty self explanatory. Nerves suck, and so do tear ducks. moving on.
2:
I finished/fixed my web presence to not look shitty and sophomoric. First I changed all my Dox. to Pdf. and then I took out (most) BEAUTIFUL pictures of my face(XP). THEN I re-wrote my bio, formatted an artistic statement, etc.
All in all, it is pretty neat. Check it out!
http://hayleyschool.wix.com/hayleytrachtenberg
3: this was a painful task, but I think I've gotten better at it. Moving on----
4: oh yes! I've been doing mock interviews with my parents and my cats. my cats are much better at it: they make me less nervous.
5: So I have a commission from Young Playwrights to write a 10-20 minute play---and I gave them my pitches so now I am committed to this really cool idea of mine----BUT I completely forgot how to art. I have been doing SO SO SO SO SO much research on my "Millaeu" (October 31st, 2001)-- and comic book research, religion research, Heck-- I could write a 25 page paper on all of it!
But apparently, I can't write a 10 page play on it. I just need to sit down and do it: dead line (for the start of it at least) is Tuesday! eeep!
6: Oh, yes! So rehearsal on----Thursday? Yes, Thursday---we cut loose a bunch of actors and Aladren----basically wrote new parts of Swagspeare----and really opened my eyes to how much i have wasted on that play. instead of focusing on the satirical elements of the work, I focused on the cheap comedic pop-culture---which I went down astray paths--and would rather not go into detail about. I re-wrote the opening monologue, Tempest, MacBeth, and Two Gentlemen of Verona. Aladren had assisted in plot line/theme/everything--and I just physically did it. I am still really lost at specific plays: Such as Othello and Taming of the shrew--- now that we no longer have a "kanye west"----which I am trying to figure out how to take out of Swagspeare all together---but I can't seem to find any way.
Still editing----
That was my week!
(AND I DID MY OHIO INTERVEIW AND SUCH---but that is a blog for another day. More to come!)
OKAY!
So----this is an informal blog. Because Although I did a lot this week---I didn't really do anything. So the basics of what went down this week:
1. Crying about college
2. Getting my physical and online(ical) portfolio ready for my Ohio Interview
3. Trying to act like a human being
4. cry some more about my awkwardness in practice interviews with my cats
5. Procrastinate on a script commissioned by Young Playwrights
6. With the extreme help of Ms.Aladren, re-write scenes from Swagspeare to match the new cast list
So lets start with 1.
This is pretty self explanatory. Nerves suck, and so do tear ducks. moving on.
2:
I finished/fixed my web presence to not look shitty and sophomoric. First I changed all my Dox. to Pdf. and then I took out (most) BEAUTIFUL pictures of my face(XP). THEN I re-wrote my bio, formatted an artistic statement, etc.
All in all, it is pretty neat. Check it out!
http://hayleyschool.wix.com/hayleytrachtenberg
3: this was a painful task, but I think I've gotten better at it. Moving on----
4: oh yes! I've been doing mock interviews with my parents and my cats. my cats are much better at it: they make me less nervous.
5: So I have a commission from Young Playwrights to write a 10-20 minute play---and I gave them my pitches so now I am committed to this really cool idea of mine----BUT I completely forgot how to art. I have been doing SO SO SO SO SO much research on my "Millaeu" (October 31st, 2001)-- and comic book research, religion research, Heck-- I could write a 25 page paper on all of it!
But apparently, I can't write a 10 page play on it. I just need to sit down and do it: dead line (for the start of it at least) is Tuesday! eeep!
6: Oh, yes! So rehearsal on----Thursday? Yes, Thursday---we cut loose a bunch of actors and Aladren----basically wrote new parts of Swagspeare----and really opened my eyes to how much i have wasted on that play. instead of focusing on the satirical elements of the work, I focused on the cheap comedic pop-culture---which I went down astray paths--and would rather not go into detail about. I re-wrote the opening monologue, Tempest, MacBeth, and Two Gentlemen of Verona. Aladren had assisted in plot line/theme/everything--and I just physically did it. I am still really lost at specific plays: Such as Othello and Taming of the shrew--- now that we no longer have a "kanye west"----which I am trying to figure out how to take out of Swagspeare all together---but I can't seem to find any way.
Still editing----
That was my week!
(AND I DID MY OHIO INTERVEIW AND SUCH---but that is a blog for another day. More to come!)
Friday, January 10, 2014
January 6th, 2014---- January 10th,2014
MONDAY
Oh---and I um---I also started to semi-stalk Dr.Condee---I listened to his lecture on Global Artistic Interspaces---- still processing. Incredibly intelligent man.
http://vimeo.com/71523766
PG=100
Objective: Work on Website/online portfolio/presence
Accomplished? Yes.
So today I am spell checking my website. It seems like something that can be done easy, but for me it is not. It is a long, very stressful process---I spelled my name wrong twice. GAH- why. I think something is wrong with my brain---maybe I just type to fast. A lot of my letters are there but they are backwards so instead of spelling "the" I would spell "teh", "Just" turns into "Jsut", and "Hayley" turns into "Halyey ".
My website is ready for launch: I just want to get a second pair of eyes on it to make sure I have everything done correctly.
TUESDAY
PG=100
I had my internship in NYC today---I had to pitch play ideas for a commission--- I was very shocked at the results, the play that I thought they would want me to write was the play they discouraged me to write-- (not discouraged, but----I'm moving on). They said that my idea on writing a comedy about a man who challenges death to a chess game and then wins--- was too easy for me. I do comedy a lot, and I think that I am fairly decent at it----- the idea in which they wanted me to write is a bit more out of my comfort zone. I had this idea a while ago to write on the theme/idea/question on weather or not we should hide behind our masks and appease to be safe, or weather or not we should discard our masks and be ourselves at risk. Or weather or not that risk was worth it. I came up with the metaphor of superheros to show how people can wear masks and save people and themselves at the same time----
SO---the play----is about a group of friends that sneak out to a costume contest club on Halloween Night, 2001----a month after the twin towers has fallen. I think it is a very interesting milieu---but I'm worried that I won't do it justice. I tend to make tender, dramatic---and I want to show what societal fear affects us as people. Hopefully it will all turn out well.
To get into writing these characters--I made character sheets for myself. I found this simple character base and made some people for my play--- so I thought I'd drop them down here. =)
WEDNESDAY
PG=100
OBJECTIVE- Rehearsal today, then work on Swagspeare changes
Acheived? Yes.
Started to put in some of the found thingys--- started a folder of inspo and research pictures. Seen on Docs located in the senior showcase '14 file.
Went to a board meeting with Crystal Skillman, Ms. Aladren, and Nyasia Dyre: Does that count as extra credit?
Anyway---it was lovely, and it is always amazing when I get to see Crystal Skillman.
ALSO-side note----my re-edited book came out today! woot woot! Buy my book so I can get $7 royalties and go to college!
THURSDAY
Pg=100
I gave a voice lesson to Kimani afterschool---- she did well. I just I wish she would try a bit---she tries hard at everything, but insists that she cannot work in her mask. Which is a lie. Right now, she is having trouble---but its not impossible. If she practices what I try to tell her, she can do well and even great.
She needs to open her mind---that is all my notes.
Going to Panera now.
FRIDAY
Pg=100
Launched my website! (yay!) http://hayleyschool.wix.com/hayleytrachtenberg
SPELLING ERROR FREE!
Then I finished up my fixes on Swagspeare--- now titled NEW VERSION OF SWAGSPEARE, located in google docs Senior Showcase '14 folder.
Oh---and I um---I also started to semi-stalk Dr.Condee---I listened to his lecture on Global Artistic Interspaces---- still processing. Incredibly intelligent man.
http://vimeo.com/71523766
That was my week!
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