You can never go home

This week I attend the writing workshop I signed up for. I also will (I think) receive input on the three chapters I submitted as a writing sample. I am a bit nervous, but I am mostly excited. The workshop is scheduled for Thursday through Sunday... although I am a space cadet and booked a flightfor Sunday morning. I already spoke with the instructor, who told me I would be okay missing the last day. It makes me a little cranky that I will be missing it, but I planned a trip to Texas and cashed airline miles BEFORE I looked at my calendar. Like I said, space cadet.

Texas? Oh, yeah, I am going to Texas for a week with the Boy. I have not seen my grandmother since 2007. She is about a million years old, and ornery, and really doesn't like little kids. So, why am I going? Because I need to (read: guilt). Funny thing, seeing her is the reason I have to do this trip-- I cannot take time later on this year because of work and school-- but I am only going to be seeing her for an hour or so on my first full day in Texas. Otherwise, I am cramming in lots of other relatives, friends, and sightseeing.

I have not spent any time tooling around my hometown since I was still in college. I found out, while booking this trip, that the public library building is now a branch of the local college. That building was beautiful. It had a windy staircase to the second floor (adult fiction), and a creepy little hidden stair to the basement (juvenile books). There was a creaky old elevator, and a wide open, sunlit foyer just inside the front doors. There were two entrances to the building.... Yes, that building made quite an impression on me.

There are also parks, restaurants, a train museum, and all sorts of other things. My hometown has changed a lot. I don't miss it. Trust me. I don't miss being a freak of nature-- hating football and country music, dreaming of culture and valuing education. I have no interest in seeing most of the people who are still around. I have a few friends from those times that I rediscovered on Faceborg, and I will be attempting to spend time with them.

I dreamed of nothing else in high school than escaping out of Central Texas. I studied hard, did lots of extra-curricular activities, and bugged the college counselor endlessly-- all to get the hell out of there. I now avoid all calls for class reunions, or homecoming crap. God, I hated high school.

But, sometimes, you just gotta go visit. Maybe I will find that having grown up will make me a little less antagonistic to Central Texas. Maybe I will find that both the town and I have changed. I will never be a country music loving, football game attending kind of girl, but maybe I can appreciate the opportunity to at least see what I escaped and what I miss.

Like what hell happened to the public library.

Anyway, I will be in the writing workshop all day on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, and then gone March 13-19. I may or may not post during that time. Who knows.

My final news is this-- I wrote my ten minute play. It was cathartic, and not just because I managed to cram in all sorts of awful topics into ten minutes, all while avoiding any nudity, cursing, or blood on stage. Anyway, I have to re-title it. The current title is the only thing that displeases me. And then I have to finish formatting it, and then submit it. I hope to do that before the Wednesday, so I can be done with it, and move on to other projects.

Cheers!

Bad, Naughty February!

February wasn't a good month for my Plan, apparently.

I didn't walk regularly. Now, there were some weather issues, and health issues, but still. I took no recharge breaks either. And, I have gone no further in figuring out what I am NOT going to do than setting a date for either resigning from my board or going inactive (June!).

However, I am pleased to report that I did finally finish the body of the book, and even added a prologue/short story. I don't know if the short story will be able to stand alone, but I am pondering it. Is there editing to do? You bet. I am also having to figure out some formatting issues. I plan to read the whole thing aloud in my final edit, before I get copies to my peer reviewers. I think I have them all picked out.

Additionally, I have a trip planned to Texas for the middle of the month. I need to see my grandmother. It has been four years since I last saw her, and I haven't visited my folks in about as long... I will also be seeing some high school and college classmates during the trip, which will be cool. It will also be a bit weird, methinks.

Let's see, anything else to report. Oh, yes, the 10-minutes one act play festival. I was asked by my boss if I would submit a script for this festival, and of course I said yes. I found out yesterday that submitting a script would mean not acting in any of the plays; and that it all has to be 'family friendly'... whatever the hell that means.

Rant time! Yay!!! I am so FREAKING sick of 'family friendly' theatre in this county. WHY does everything have to be family geared? Are adults second class citizens? I like dark humor, and language, and 'adult situations'... but can I see that on a stage in this county? NOT BLOODY LIKELY.... And it is not just the theatres.... it is everywhere... I cannot TELL you how many times I have gone to my favorite bar, after nine PM, and found CHILDREN there with their parents!!!!

I have reviewed grants for arts funding for the last five years. There are a handful of theatre companies that apply for funding.... and in their FREAKING mission statements they state 'wholesome, family friendly entertainment.' Guess how many list 'morally suspect, adult themed entertainment'.... NONE.

Either I am so far out the norm that I am definitely going to hell, or there is an UNTAPPED market in this county. I hosted a play reading (Anti-Valentine's Day was the theme), and it was an afternoon of Christopher Durang one-acts. We all had fun.

Maybe I should just create my own theatre company, and put in the mission statement: To foster an irreverent, mildly salacious culture and entertain grownups.

Okay, rant mostly done. Now I need to look up a website for creating voodoo dolls before writing my 'family friendly' script.... with zombies....

Artistic Supporter

It has been awhile since I posted. When last I posted, Africa had only fallen partway into chaos...

I just spent DAYS helping to jury a studio tour. It is a really cool event, and I am serving my second year on the planning committee. This is one of my volunteer roles in the community. Today, I estimated my total hours spent on this committee, and I estimated around 110 hours over the course of the event. That is a lot of hours, for no pay.

My husband asked me this evening, as I prepared for an art modeling gig, why I enjoy doing it. I spent five minutes attempting to answer his question, and finally had to give up. I thought about it as I sat still and said nothing for twenty minute blocks tonight.

I think I like art modeling for the same reason I like the studio tour. I cannot be an artist, so I am an artistic supporter. Yes, I am an artist- in performing and literary arts. (Okay, maybe it is an arrogant stretch to claim literary artist yet.) But, that is not quite what I mean.

I have always loved visual art. I remember starving myself for a 24 hour period so I could go look at art the way Hemingway did in A Moveable Feast. Granted, he was starving for real when he went to the Louvre, and I was a silly 16 year old girl looking at a summer college art show. I spend birthday money on art, and acting money, and sometimes, the Husband's money.... I attend art show openings whenever I can, and freely admit to spending part of a girl's weekend away in DC... at the Freer Gallery.

I sketch. I took a costume design class in college, and learned most of the art techniques I possess in that class. I learned how to render a human figure, mix colors, and draw clothing. It was a good class. I sketch the clothing I try to describe in my writing, and I often sketch the costumes for my theatre classes. I spent a few years (pre-baby) carrying around a pad and pencils, sketching nature, people, and objects. I would love to take a drawing class.

I dabble, let's be honest. I like it, but there are only so many things a girl can tackle, and tackle well. The last several days, I spent time discussing various artists' work with two women who ARE artists. I can see a piece of pottery and know that I like it. These ladies can look at it, and understand the skill involved, the process used, how it was glazed, if mistakes were made, etc. I learned just from listening to their critiques. And I learn while art modeling for open sessions and classes. The artists discuss their work, both the artistic and the business aspects. The teachers discuss choices or mistakes their students make, and work with them to improve their craft.

I just sit there, quiet, not moving... but listening. And I love it. Even now, as I sit here with my neck stiff and sore, with cosmetics still on my face, I can honestly admit that I might do it for free. If the right artist asked, if the opportunity was interesting enough, I probably would...

...well, unless it was nude modeling. Yeah, I don't do that, even for a paycheck.