my god

This is the view from the wheelchair toilet in the women's washroom at the Coppercreek Kitchen (or something like that). Really. I mean it.

what a fucking day. (we all speak French here, right?)

Here is a selection of notes made during / after performances:

- keep your hand down

- i felt so much boredom. the ideas are so much more interesting than the execution -- is this really the right medium / forum to explore them? Is my boredom a symptom of the work's failure to engage me, or my failure to understand this mode of communication?

- "Will I have to learn to behave in a way that's different than the way I normally behave."

- What are you trying to tell me?!!? Again, I don't understand the language. Does that even matter to you?

- If you're gonna jump, jump until you can jump no more.

Reminds me of a musical Karin and I once started to invent with my old boyfriend Sean (oh Sean, he was a baker, made me a chocolate cheese cake for my birthday, walked out without saying a word when i broke up with him, inspired drunken confessions / demands, oh, adrienne... he still haunts me, there are some who will never be forgotten... o.) The theme we returned to: is it crap? / or is it art?

There's a tap number too, except the shoes make this sound: crappity crap crap crappity crap crap CRAP!

and drinking more will only make it better to a point...

(I am haunted still, though less by Sean than others... Maiko says: we are haunted by those who have made an impact on our lives... even if we don't understand why. I don't understand why. WHY?!? I think I am haunted by unfinished business, by the memories of those who I have done wrong and who, despite my best efforts, I continue to do wrong. Or perhaps -- i'm thinking this now -- i have done wrong to myself via them... somehow compromised my own integrity. And not the kind of integrity that can be defined to another through a moral or ethical discussion, but closer to the integrity that helps a building to remain standing. The slippery slope of trying to regain dignity. But really, once it's gone you might as well just go with it, because it ain't gonna get better. Trust me. Just throw in your hand, wash you face, brush your teeth and go to bed. In the morning you will have a whole new day.)

Bob's Lounge was a highlight. It was like watching a car crash in slow motion... a skul crushed... the bones caving in... the brain sqeezing out... flesh and fluid splashed on the dash like a jackson pollock painting. but 100% commitment. Jill leaned over and said, "that's all it takes to make a performer: fearlessness."

And now everyone's gone to bed with headaches and dejected looks and I am oh so wired. I've run a hot bath in the hopes it will help me to settle down. Tomorrow Maiko and I make our presentations.

(There was a moment when I feared we were in the wrong place. During one interminable event. I think I will take Naomi's advice and let it make me bolder. BOLDER!)