The conversation, over at Net Native.

On the day I met the woman behind Net Native, I mentioned that I don’t consider myself a “real blogger”. Immediately, she wanted to know why. I had to admit I wasn’t sure, and the question kept bothering me for the next week. What’s a real blogger?

I told her about how Chris made me this site because he missed the playlist and wanted to get me blogging, while I had hoped we’d be able to create a place where I could track and archive my artistic output. I still hope for that - an interactive timeline I can tag, illustrate, archive things in, link, and rearrange to help make sense of my twisty interdisciplinary/international artistic path. A place where it’s all kept, not only for grant application purposes, but because I have a hard time remembering what I’ve accomplished and what it all has to do with anything. And secretly, a bit of a tool to help me figure out who I am and where to go from here. You are what you do; what I’ve done is scattered and when I get sick I tend to repeat myself.

I wasn’t looking for a new project to address daily. I can hardly keep a journal. But here we are. I think we’re up over 100 posts now, and we’re a year old. That’s not exactly dedication, but I’m becoming a little more attentive. But I still don’t have the ability to change the tagline on the top illustration without bothering Chris and distracting him from his new baby.

So a few days later, when I read this Net Native post, the differences between whatever it is I’m doing here and what I consider “real blogging” were further highlighted and the question rose again.

Characteristically, this string of thoughts and musings has no focus. No purpose. I already had a vanity (fully acknowledging the two definitions of “vain”) site, and I’m not interested in marketing myself at entertainment. And if my friends really wanted to know what I thought, they’d call and ask. (Right?)
I’m not doing this because I’m under the impression that you think my opinions are interesting, and nothing’s for sale. And the thought of ex-boyfriends, past stalkers, and future employers knowing all of my thoughts and struggles is so daunting that I hardly post a fraction of the story anyway. That’s why I don’t consider myself a “real blogger”.

So what, then, is the point of publishing my thoughts here, as I clumsily cast about for meaning?

Of course a little of it is a desire for company on this road, the quest for truth. The hope, which certain occasional readers whose names begin with C sometimes indulge, that someone will come along and shine a little eloquence on the subject and make one feel a little less alone.

And perhaps more hopefully, the idea that things will come together, make sense, add up to something bigger, the sum of its parts.

That eventually there WILL be a point.

And then this will be background, an archive, visible process, and I won’t have to waste time explaining how we got there. And maybe just doing this keeps me going, keeps me moving, and keeps me accountable. Journaling helps with process and with working out ideas, but I suck at keeping them. This way there’s the guilt factor, and the occasional call from Chris asking why I haven’t posted. And maybe-just-maybe if I serendipitously, accidentally, miraculously do something awesome, then maybe we’ll be able to figure out how the heck that happened. Because honestly, at this point? Nobody else is watching.

And then, there’s the memory of one or two people who came up to me, a decade later, to tell me how this DJ set or that art song “changed their life”. I didn’t know it at the time, and that wasn’t the goal. And I wasn’t doing anything groundbreaking, just sharing some records I liked and learning how to forget to sing. I was just doing, there was no point. Sometimes, that’s my favorite thing to read in other people’s blogs. Maybe, even if I’m all wrong, something I say here can help someone else get where I don’t go faster, better, less painfully than I would have. Maybe that’s who I’m talking to now. I don’t mind that neither one of us have much to say now. You know where to find me. See you in 10 years, buddy. Or not.

(I can’t believe this has been sitting in my “drafts” since January. Sorry, my bad.)

What a special treat! Because a nice lady in a PR office in NY likes my blog, Josh and I got to go see Edward Scissorhands at the 5th Avenue Theater this evening. It was lovely to have a night out at the ballet, but that’s all I’m going to say right now because if you’re going to see it, it’s best you see it with as little in the way of preconceived notions as possible. It’s a magical story, and magic is less magic if you’re expecting it to happen.

If you’d like to go see it, tomorrow’s a good time. Friday, April 27 is “Young Professionals’ Night at the 5th Avenue Theatre”, and if you buy your advance tickets using the promotional code TOPIARY, you will get the best seats available (tickets are like $68!!!) for only $40. You must be 39 or under for the discount, and you have to show your ID when you pick up the tickets. But maybe that means that the audience will be full of young hotties who can blow $40 on a Friday night for a little culture! Nice. You can snag tickets at http://www.5thavenue.org, call 206-625-1900, or stop by the 5th Avenue Theatre Box Office in person. Secret password is TOPIARY, use it when you ORDER. Nope, I don’t get paid for that. Too bad.

Of course I will write more about what we thought of it in a moment… I’ll just do it below in the comments section so as not to spoil it for those who haven’t been yet.

My Paper Crane on Flickr
Mypapercrane.com
Clicklicklick!

So, just before I left for Mexico in March, and while I was struggling through some crazy serious medical complications, roommate and $$ worries, winter blahs and heartache, I pulled off some kind of amazing stuff that I’m overdue in discussing, and I guess I owe myself a bit of a pat on the back.

After singing and performing in my first Cathedral Band concert in months, even managing to send out a newsletter about it beforehand (if you did not get this newsletter, please email me), I came home and managed to pull together a photo show in 3 days on no sleep, no money, and very little training. I had given up on the show, but Sheri talked me into it and pulled me along with her positivity and confidence in me!

Here are some photos of the opening at the Tashiro Kaplan Artist Lofts Vandenbrink Community Center for the March 1 Artwalk:

Infinite thanks are owed to the following people:
Sheri Brown for curating
Paurl Walsh and and his boss at the Framesmith for the glass and the lessons in last minute budget hanging and archival protection
Galen and Michael at Kit’s Camera in NG for being patient with my insane random self
Jay Mason for helping us hang last-minute
I know that everyone says this, but seriously it would not have been possible without them. What a crazy week.

The very next day I flew to Mexico, so thanks a million as well to Sheri for babysitting the show for 2 weeks and to the amazing Susan Robb for taking it down so gently and lovingly when it was time for hers to go up, and for sending compliments back through Sheri which lifted my spirits on my return/crash landing!!!

Thanks also to the students of the Butoh study for their patience, as this was the most difficult photo project I’ve ever undertaken and I was so unhappy with much of the process. Honestly I was so heartbroken about what I felt was a sub-par quality of output, and the succession of catastrophic equipment/resources failures I had all winter, and the forced retirement of my digital camera, that I didn’t feel that I could pull together a final product that I accurately documented the whole process. But your enthusiasm and support, and your patience in helping me understand some of the concepts you were working with, makes me want to at least give you this. But then as I think about it, and what we all learned about the dance form, and the personal philosophies and styles of each teacher… How apropos that for me it should be so awkward, and involve struggles with light and dark, and mirror deep frustrations from within. All of what I was confronted with was overwhelming, and my efforts to put that on paper into a coherent gesture (if you will), is going to be an ongoing process. Ultimately, it was a workshop for me too! And what I learned is that I have a lot to learn.

I will post the slideshow here for your (online) use shortly. Feel free to use the images for your websites and sharing, but contact me before any sort of printing to get the large files.

Kucinich in the AP/New York Times.

Look who Dolphy found IN our house on Friday night!!!

We figure the baby opossum must have gotten in on Friday afternoon, when I returned from work and napped with the front door open. Dolphy found him behind the cd shelves during the 10 O’Clock News, and clued me in with an extreme tail expansion. We took the little critter outside on the maroon sleeping bag pictured, and he ran under the house where he lives with his mom and god knows what else. Gotta say, he was pretty darn cute.

Nice little article in the Willamette Week today about my dearly beloved aunt and uncle and their war protests in the form of tax resistance.

Willamette Week Online | Death Tax • Your money is paying for a bloody war. Theirs isn’t.

Actually, this is not news to our family - they’ve been vigorously defending their beliefs since before I can remember, and I learned about Civil Disobedience from them before I ever picked up Thoreau. I guess the fact that we’re at war (still) now and it’s tax time makes it a good story. A nice little article, but there’s so much more to it, and to John and Pat. They’re an amazing pair of humans, and this is only one little thing these two do in a lifetime of helping people, fighting for civil rights, and acting on their beliefs. I can’t believe that’s my family… except that I can, because I knew my grandparents.

(The metanoia community’s web site, which used to be here, had more information, but might be a little overloaded right now. Meanwhile you can learn about grief counseling and order my aunt Pat’s Tear Soup books here. The Peace House info is here.)

I swear I thought I blogged about this already? Guess not.

My friends Chris and Zoe got married today in the park. Cool, I had permission to take a long lunch, and got Josh to agree to pick me up so we could save time in transit. Wore a nice dress and heels to work. Okay!

But then YESTERDAY, they asked me to do the marrying! Unbeknownst to most people, I’ve been a Universal Life Church minister since April 28th 2000, but I have yet to perform a marriage ceremony (that wasn’t the point.) I asked what kind of service they would like to have, and they said they trusted me. “You mean they trust you to do all the worrying about it!” said my honey. Chris referred my to the very website he designed for me (this one) and pointed out that I have “Improviser” at the top. Eep.

I pushed for more parameters. ANY parameters. They’re very casual, are writing their own vows, and will be barefoot. And something about worshipping the goddess of Chaos. I’m getting the feeling that if I wanted to pull some sort of performance-art prank like having Josh play Peanuts Adults wha-wah-wha-wah noises on his trumpet while I pretended to mouth solemn words, or dragging a soundsystem out and only playing pop records (you know, begin with Prince, obvy!) to guide the ceremony, or leading an interpretive ribbon dance, leaving all words and symbols in Lake Union, they’d eat it up. If only there was more time.

SO last night I rampaged my art supplies, poetry books, journals, and brownie mix (what?) for inspiration on what the hell to do. Other than a little buddhist reflection on the importance of vows, I was at a loss. (Also, I had to turn on Lost.)

So first thing this morning, I got on the internet and made a beeline for Ariel Meadow Stalling’s Offbeat Bride. Of course I am kicking myself for not reading the book already, for not having it on hand right now… despite my lifelong non-marriage horizon, you really never know when you might need such a thing. Plus when a friend gets it together to do something as serious as write a whole book, you should probably support the hell out of that and just buy a copy on faith. Anyway the website was lovely, but really helps more with advance planning and the bride side (really, I’m supposed to know my own job), but for the really chunky kind of advice I needed, I should get the book. Learned my lesson - I’m ordering it now. I did get a couple of idea seeds from the “Offbeat Advice” section, like having guests of a small party make a circle and using ribbons to physically tie the guests into the ceremony (which complimented my idea of having them also make vows - later.) Most of all though, just reading through the site and and seeing the creative examples from other weddings helped me feel really free to open it up and get creative with my own ideas. Plus this made me want to call my mom.

I was also glad to get the heads-up on Daintycore; Chaya is AWESOME and I’m so excited to see what she’ll be doing in the future (I have an inside tip that she’s currently studying textiles hard-core and is poised to bust open the door of brilliance even wider.) But I’m not dress shopping, so on I went.

Next stop was About.com for some reading suggestions, where I ripped through Dickinson, Morrison, Yeats, etc before selecting passages by Robert Frost, Madeline L’Engle, and Margery Williams (actually I printed a bunch of other ones out and decided later in the car. Losers included legal passages from “Goodridge Vs. Department of Health” and also the Substitute Senate Bill 5336 on Domestic Partnerships that the Washington State Assembly very recently passed. But it was very close.) I also was able to find general guidelines for the proper order of service.

So then I called my mom. I asked her what her favorite part of her wedding to my stepfather was, and of course she said “the music.” (What, my falling off the water fountain and subsequent breaking open of my little head at the rehearsal wasn’t a highlight?) Then she said that the inclusion of the family was very important and memorable as well. Apparently we kids (one from her, two coming to the family with Glen) also took some vows, to be part of the family. I have no recollection of this, but hey I was probably totally engrossed with the lovely heart-shaped buttons on my pretty handmade dress. Plus maybe there was some brain damage. Anyway, I thought that was a fabulous idea. So I decided to invite the guests to come up with some vows on the fly, since that was what the bride and groom were pretty much doing.

I went to the park with a bag of symbolism, a rough outline, a bottle of water, a broken camera, and some poetry. But hey - I’ve had a lot of practice improvising in every situation imaginable, right? Besides. No matter what I do, the day’s going to be special because Chris and Zoe are special. Riff on that.

Vonnegut!

I have no words.

watch this, it’s funny!