The Long Way Around
It's been a long weekend already, and Sunday is just beginning. The State Route 520 bridge which is one of two bridges crossing Lake Washington is closed this weekend for regular maintenance, shunting most the cross-lake traffic to the Interstate 90 bridge. It probably would have been quicker to drive around the lake yesterday afternoon.
When I was came home after the show on Friday I had to take Interstate 90 which is several miles out of my way to the south. It was a pleasure. If I'd been able to zip home on my accustomed route I would have missed the fringe of the rainstorm. It has been dry the last few weeks, and there was the smell of new rain on parched land. It is an acrid smell, bordering on the point where it could be irritating to the sinuses. I love that smell. It brings up images of a dry earth slaking her thirst.
I was thinking of the show I saw at the Intiman, The Play's the Thing. A very enjoyable show, of the drawing room genre. I sat next to my Dad. It is his favorite genre, and he laughed uproariously, increasing my own laughter. I remember being embarrassed by his laughter as a kid, and somewhere around the line his laughter took on the power to heighten my enjoyment.
While I was laughing with my father I did notice L.B. who has an engaging, entertaining character. The problem is it is always the very same character, and after several productions it grows stale. It is still fun to watch, you just find yourself craving more from him. This was brought up in class several times as a trap to avoid in our work.
My increased ability to critique a show, and the ability to identify what is not quite right, reminded me of Meisner. Again. The top level is I have a keener eye when it comes to understanding what I like about a show I am watching or in, and what could make it better. I was worried being able to really critique productions would rob me of my enjoyment as an audience member. Luckily not, it just adds a new layer to the experience.
The lower level, or undercurrent of thinking of the Meisner Progressions is I have yet to deal with the grieving process. Easier to face and easier to avoid than the death of someone close, but a grieving just the same. I have kept myself busy every day since finishing the class, often enjoying one of my favorite drinks before going to sleep. Tonight is my night to celebrate and acknowledge the finish of the class. I'm going to do some deferred house work in a leisurely way today, then just sit outside in a nice lawn chair, and let the year soak in. It took me a while to let myself do this, but often the longer way around adds something I wouldn't have otherwise had. Like taking the long way around and smelling the earth's thirst for rain.
When I was came home after the show on Friday I had to take Interstate 90 which is several miles out of my way to the south. It was a pleasure. If I'd been able to zip home on my accustomed route I would have missed the fringe of the rainstorm. It has been dry the last few weeks, and there was the smell of new rain on parched land. It is an acrid smell, bordering on the point where it could be irritating to the sinuses. I love that smell. It brings up images of a dry earth slaking her thirst.
I was thinking of the show I saw at the Intiman, The Play's the Thing. A very enjoyable show, of the drawing room genre. I sat next to my Dad. It is his favorite genre, and he laughed uproariously, increasing my own laughter. I remember being embarrassed by his laughter as a kid, and somewhere around the line his laughter took on the power to heighten my enjoyment.
While I was laughing with my father I did notice L.B. who has an engaging, entertaining character. The problem is it is always the very same character, and after several productions it grows stale. It is still fun to watch, you just find yourself craving more from him. This was brought up in class several times as a trap to avoid in our work.
My increased ability to critique a show, and the ability to identify what is not quite right, reminded me of Meisner. Again. The top level is I have a keener eye when it comes to understanding what I like about a show I am watching or in, and what could make it better. I was worried being able to really critique productions would rob me of my enjoyment as an audience member. Luckily not, it just adds a new layer to the experience.
The lower level, or undercurrent of thinking of the Meisner Progressions is I have yet to deal with the grieving process. Easier to face and easier to avoid than the death of someone close, but a grieving just the same. I have kept myself busy every day since finishing the class, often enjoying one of my favorite drinks before going to sleep. Tonight is my night to celebrate and acknowledge the finish of the class. I'm going to do some deferred house work in a leisurely way today, then just sit outside in a nice lawn chair, and let the year soak in. It took me a while to let myself do this, but often the longer way around adds something I wouldn't have otherwise had. Like taking the long way around and smelling the earth's thirst for rain.
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