Lent Day 30 "30 Days to make a habit"

I have heard that it takes 30 days to make a new habit and make it stick.  I have done well for the first two weeks or so, but sort of fell off the wagon fell off about halfway here.  Not that I haven't thought about it or forgotten to do it on days, but have at least made a thought or an attempt--which is not writing, but is part of the futile effort of that thing called writer's block.  It is either lack of ideas, lack of gumption, or abject fear.  And the greatest of these is fear.  

There are only two weeks to go, and I feel the need to finish strong.  Consider me recommitting myself.  

Thank you!

Lent Day 27 "Discourse not Discord"

I am a bit of a news junkie.  I like being up on the goings-on of the world around me, and having issues presented for me to decide how to interpret and react to them.  


Unfortunately, my joy at the news has been tempered over the last few years by the increasingly shrill and sensationalized nonsense which passes for journalistic genius.  Either the drivel has gotten worse, I have gotten more mature and more highly exacting of the information I consume, or (and most likely) a combination of both.  Somewhere between work, theatre, church, friends, and other concerns and obligations I have less time to devote to keeping up with the world around me.  Compounding the unimpressive content, the commercial interruptions simply make the entire effort less and less worth undertaking.  l simply cannot stomach the continued lies, told at louder and louder volume--either in the show or the commercials--and told with such sincerity that you almost want to believe the teller, even though you know that they are telling only what they think people want to hear so that they can keep their job.  Discussion has devolved into the soundbyte and pandering, rather than addressing one another, and arguments, with respect.  No one can reach a deeper level, toward discourse, because the entire 2-minute exercise devolves into ad hominem attacks (again pandering to those who already agree with the speaker).  


I can barely take the local news long enough to get the weather report, and worry that my mute button or alternate channel button will wear out!  

Lent Day 23 "I'm too freaking tired"

Been a couple of crazybusy days.  I'll be back tomorrow with something scintillating.

Lent Day 21 "Back in the saddle"

I fell off the wagon for a couple of days (or took a hiatus for my birthday), whichever....

I just found out today that a college classmate of mine died today.  She was less than a year older than me.  I didn't know her well, and had only superficially reconnected with her via Facebook recently.  It was through that same network that I heard about her passing, and left a condolence note on her wall for her friends and family to see.

I often see recriminations of the inappropriateness of online communication: that it is insufficient and puerile, that it cheapens friendships, or that it does not foster deeper connections and understanding.  In many ways, those criticisms do hold truth, but they forget the benefit of collected communication, however superficial it may be.  Through that forum, there can be a collective wake in geographic diversity.  I will continue to value online connections, no matter how pale they seem in comparison to in-face interactions.

Lent Day 18 "Brainstorming II"

 Scene 1: (Indifference)

Hostess gift from a visiting friend.

I have no more brain power.  Story to continue at a later date.

Lent Day 17 "Four Gifts"

Brainstorming for the play idea that I have in my head:

Working title (pretty firm): Four Gifts

Premise: Exploring the reactions to gifts.  The same gift gets given to four different people, causing disparate reactions.  The gift is abstract, not known to the audience (though small enough to fit into a box), audience should not see it.  The object is not important, and would only distract from the greater themes and story being explored.

Reason for telling story: Explore the difference between a gift that enhances the recipient's life and something that is of more use to the giver.  The purpose of gift/ parable of gift.

Structure:  Four scenes--interconnected vignettes.  The gift processes through several regifting scenarios, with various reactions.  Possibly returns to the original giver?  Reaction genres: 1. disappointment/ sadness, 2. wonder/ joy, 3. indifference, 4. anger.  Should be refrains or similar lines throughout to highlight various reactions.  Gift comes across as Grand Gesture, inappropriate, ideal, amusing, useless, or overthought.

References or sources: Othello, 4 gospels (bible), 4 noble truths of buddhism, magi, birthdays, housewarming, wedding, Christmas/ Hanukkah/ Kwanzaa, baby shower.

Characters: Each scene will have at least 3, actors will play multiple roles.  Each scene will have someone from the previous scene to give it connectedness and continuity.

Much more writing to follow.

Lent Day 16 "Two weeks"

After just a little more than two weeks of setting myself the goal of writing every day, and then actually mostly having done so, I am impressed with the results that I am already seeing.

Often, I will get a bug in my head about something, needing to do something a different way, wanting to add something to make me a better me.  I'll be all fervent about it for a while (eating better, exercising), but after a few days or weeks, the initial blush of interest and rush of change wears off, and I return to exactly the same pattern I had before I attempted to make the change.  This assignment/ change/ self-discipline has been different.  It has engaged a part of me that had been screaming to get out and be put to use.  It has also started to change how I interact with the world.  No longer do I just pass by things and perhaps have a passing thought or sense of curiosity about some object or incident or person, but I start to note the mental spark and catalog it for later (special thanks again to my hubby for the wonderful journal as a repository for those jottings).  I have also started to look beyond just passing through the world and being in it and of it into more of a sense of being in the world and also being able to comment on it.  The mental jottings (and physical jottings) have been a very important exercise for my creativity.  No longer is it just an interesting footprint in the snow (see entry from 2.26), but possibly the start of a character sketch, or the entree into a deeper and wider world.  (the shoeprint I saw really did look like the walker overpronates!).

Thank you to all of you who have continued to read on this journey with me and share your reactions.  We all still have a long way to go on this Lenten Journey, and I look forward to continuing it!

Lent Day 15 "Tokyo"

I have written previously about my trip to Japan and the sheer beauty I enjoyed there.  I was 11 when we arrived there (12th birthday during the trip--but that may just be another entry), and it was the first time that I had been out of the country.  My grandmother had gotten a wild burr in her head to travel to Japan, and decided that she wanted to take me with her.  My teachers at the time (yay for good Maryland schools) understood that I would learn far more by experiencing that trip than I would spending the time in their classes, so they created some extended assignments for me, and wished me a good journey.

So, Gramma and I packed up and left for Japan in mid-February, 1991.  It was the height of the first Gulf War, and there were hefty (suggested) restrictions on travel, especially by the Japanese government and the US.  When our flight left LA for Tokyo, there were a total of 11 passengers.  It was the longest flight I had ever been on, expected to be 14 hours.  I still have the pack of Delta Airlines playing cards which were given to me by a flight attendant.  The fortunate thing about so empty of a flight was that you could take one of the middle sections of the seats, flip up all the arms, and stretch out and sleep like it was a couch.  I awoke just before we arrived in Tokyo, where it was almost night.  The sun set behind buildings festooned with miraculous displays of neon.  I remember being on the 22cd floor of the hotel, and because I had already slept so much on the plane, I wasn't particularly tired.  So, I climbed into the bay window in our room and watched the flashing lights of the city that lay below me.  I know that I slept some that night, but woke up long before dawn being greatly hungry.  Since Gramma hadn't woken up yet, I again went to the bay window and looked out on the city.  Some clouds had moved in, bringing a slight snow flurry with them.  Due to the updraft caused by the city heat, the light flakes drifted upwards against our window.  I sat, mouth agape, watching until the lightening sky indicated that the sun was rising behind the flat, grey bank of clouds.  Not knowing about updrafts and wind patterns and the general lightness of snow, I marveled at how completely separated I was from the world that I knew.  Here was a land of brightly flashing light, where even the weather moved differently.  In that very moment, I felt so alone and insignificant, but so interested and curious about this great new world I was visiting.

Lent Day 14 "Baseball"

I alluded yesterday to our national pastime, the magnificent sport of baseball.  As I type right now, the first day of Spring Training games in the grapefruit league are drawing to a close.  (Darn, Mets are beating the Braves...).

There is a poetic rhythm to a baseball game, elongated tercets of time where spring, summer, and fall air whisper promises of excitement at every pitch.  Every swing of the bat could mean glory for the next 24 hours.  Sun accentuates the bold colors of player, dirt, and grass into eye-watering contrast.  Vast blocks of green, white, and dirt support a humming joy of spectator and participant alike.

Here is, without doubt, my favorite baseball movie scene:

Lent Day 13 "March"

March is one of my top 12 favorite months.  In the south where I grew up, it is generally rainy and breezy and cool.  There were occasional snowstorms, but mostly it was warming up by then.  The month started with daffodils, bradford pears, plum trees, crocuses, and forsythia.  It progressed through to tulips, deciduous magnolias, cherry trees, and dogwood.  Everything comes to life in March.  The first shoots of leaves start to emerge on trees, days get longer--the tipping point where there is more light than dark in the day.

March is my birth month.  I love the daffodil, the flower of the month.  I love the aquamarine, the March birthstone.  Normally, I'm not too much in favor of pastels, but that nascent, emerging color of the first leaves and early flowers represents so much potential after the drab and dank sleeping colors of the long winter.  It's as though nature wants to warm you up to the idea of color before showing off the garish irises, crepe myrtles, rhododendrons, and flame azaleas of the later season.

March is also the beginning of Spring Training games in Major League Baseball--the third best sport in the world (behind table tennis and college football).  The grapefruit and cactus leagues get hot and we start to dream about overpriced cheap hotdogs and the smell of peanuts and beer while we yell at umpires.

Yes, there are only 12 months--there is something about every one of them that makes them my favorite for different things.  But March is my favorite of my favorites!