The Living Centrifuge

Barbara quotation: "We're looking for the uncanny."

We started rehearsal yesterday, and I found myself warring against it. Not the process necessarily, but the work of it, and the fact that I didn't feel up to the challenge of being a raw emotional nerve for the next six weeks, and trying to remain afloat emotionally while Jay and Barbara get more and more stressed out and abusive of one another and the dancers. I just shut down and I was panicky about it, and telegraphing the shut down. And then we were dancing and my back got all ginchy and I was defensive about having Chris in the room. And I felt like I needed to have systems in place so that I'm not taking everything so personally, such that it inhibits my work.

Then I realised. I am a physically expressive performer. My good friend Jen just told me she wanted to partner me with a particular dancer when she gets me in the studio, because I'm so "warm", and this other dancer is a little cold. And the reason I'm here is because I want to increase my range of expression. So, no matter how difficult this process, it helps me to increase that range.

I was on the Nimbus (Zap Branagan's ship from Futurama), Leela died and something happened so the ship exploded. We all ended up in hell, but hell was like here, only you had to work in retail, and also relive your death again and again. And Margie Gillis was in hell, but not because she was on the nimbus. She just happened to have died somewhere else, and I had to work at the LCBO, and she was the manager there, but she was obese and not able to dance. And I found out that the ship exploded because we were carrying radioactive earth aboard. And in the dream, I saw a young woman who was united with her two aunts, but her mother wasn't there. She'd gone to heaven instead.

I start rehearsal today. Eep.

Also, I told Grant last night that I love him. I didn't enter in any of the caveats I thought I should, so maybe we'll talk about that later, if we need to. I figured out though, that the love for him and the attraction are separate things, and independent from one another. Neat.

Your Musical Tastes Match: Nicole Kidman

See her whole playlist here (iTunes required)

The Keys to Your Heart

You are attracted to obedience and warmth. In love, you feel the most alive when your lover is creative and never lets you feel bored. You'd like to your lover to think you are loyal and faithful... that you'll never change. You would be forced to break up with someone who was emotional, moody, and difficult to please. Your ideal relationship is lasting. You want a relationship that looks to the future... one you can grow with. Your risk of cheating is low. Even if you're tempted, you'd try hard not to do it. You think of marriage as something that will confine you. You are afraid of marriage. In this moment, you think of love as commitment. Love only works when both people are totally devoted.

You Are Somewhat Machiavellian

You're not going to mow over everyone to get ahead... But you're also powerful enough to make things happen for yourself. You understand how the world works, even when it's an ugly place. You just don't get ugly yourself - unless you have to!

You Are a Bright Christmas Tree

For you, the holidays are all about fun and seasonal favorites. You are into all things Christmas, even if they're a little tacky.

Your Candy Heart Says "Get Real"

You're a bit of a cynic when it comes to love. You don't lose your head, and hardly anyone penetrates your heart. Your ideal Valentine's Day date: is all about the person you're seeing (with no mentions of v-day!) Your flirting style: honest and even slightly sarcastic What turns you off: romantic expectations and "greeting card" holidays Why you're hot: you don't just play hard to get - you are hard to get

How You Life Your Life

You seem to be straight forward, but you keep a lot inside. You tend to avoid confrontation and stay away from sticky situations. You prefer a variety of friends and tend to change friends quickly. You tend to dream big, but you worry that your dreams aren't attainable.

You Are a Little Scary

You've got a nice edge to you. Use it.

You Are Pecan Pie Soda

Sweet, but totally nuts

Your Career Type: Artistic

You are expressive, original, and independent. Your talents lie in your artistic abilities: creative writing, drama, crafts, music, or art. You would make an excellent: Actor - Art Teacher - Book Editor Clothes Designer - Comedian - Composer Dancer - DJ - Graphic Designer Illustrator - Musician - Sculptor The worst career options for your are conventional careers, like bank teller or secretary.

You Are 32% Evil

A bit of evil lurks in your heart, but you hide it well. In some ways, you are the most dangerous kind of evil.

You Are 30 Years Old

Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe. 13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world. 20-29: You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences. 30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more! 40+: You are a mature adult. You've been through most of the ups and downs of life already. Now you get to sit back and relax.

You Are Lisa Simpson

A total child prodigy and super genius, you have the mind for world domination. But you prefer world peace, Buddhism, and tofu dogs. You will be remembered for: all your academic accomplishments Your life philosophy: "I refuse to believe that everybody refuses to believe the truth"

The Movie Of Your Life Is An Indie Flick

You do things your own way - and it's made for colorful times. Your life hasn't turned out how anyone expected, thank goodness! Your best movie matches: Clerks, Garden State, Napoleon Dynamite

Your Stripper Song Is

Closer by Nine Inch Nails "You let me violate you, you let me desecrate you You let me penetrate you, you let me complicate you Help me I broke apart my insides, help me I�ve got no Soul to tell" When you dance, it's a little scary - and a lot sexy.

You Are 50% Boyish and 50% Girlish

You are pretty evenly split down the middle - a total eunuch. Okay, kidding about the eunuch part. But you do get along with both sexes. You reject traditional gender roles. However, you don't actively fight them. You're just you. You don't try to be what people expect you to be.

Your Seduction Style: The Charmer

You're a master at intimate conversation and verbal enticement. You seduce with words, by getting people to open up to you. By establishing this deep connection quickly, people feel under your power. And then you've got them exactly where you want them!

You Are Miss Piggy

A total princess and diva, you're totally in charge - even if people don't know it. You want to be loved, adored, and worshiped. And you won't settle for anything less. You're going to be a total star, and you won't let any of the "little people" get in your way. Just remember, piggy, never eat more than you can lift!

Look at this:

If I hadn't met and fallen in love with Ben, he wouldn't have suggested we have saix with others while I was away, and I would have, in all likelihood, not actively tried to meet boys while I was in town, which means I wouldn't have been on Manhunt, which means that I wouldn't have met Grant, which means that I wouldn't have made a really wonderful friend, with whom I have subsequently fallen in love.

This is a lovely man, from what I can tell. We talk well together, we're relaxed, we're friends, I like seeing him, I care about his well being, he cares about mine. It's also about right in terms of sex drive - I don't feel like I have to worry about him becoming concerned about my low sex drive, because his is pretty average too. When we do become intimate, it's spontaneous and surprising and pleasant, and doesn't have to end in climax, necessarily. It's also infrequent, which means that I look at him as a friend and human being, as opposed to this boyfriend beast that has all my projections about what a boyfriend beast should be. It's also surprising, because love for me is usually this coup de foudre, this immediate spark, and this has crept up on me. It's a new experience.

The thing is this: I don't think we can be boyfriends at this point. He doesn't feel ready to have a boyfriend. I, oddly, don't either. I think the break-up with Ben has farther reaching consequences than initially thought. I'm in a stage of life where I'm going to be doing a lot of moving around, probably for the next three to five years at least. I'm not sure that I'm boyfriend material, really. Can anyone actually stand being away from a partner for regular and protracted intervals? I am not sure. This is my fear of how other people will react to me, rearing its gly and persistent little head. Die, fear!

All this being said, I'd spend the rest of my life with Grant if he asked me to. But somehow, if he didn't want to do that I'd be okay with that too. The love permeates the relationship, whether we're calling him my boyfriend or not. It's more that I want him in my life from now on, and if the boyfriendy stuff like living together and sex is not a part of that, I don't really mind.

These are things I need to tell him. Ronya said that he knows I love him already. This may be true, but I want to tell him. He should know, explicitly. No matter what Ben did, I loved him (still do, somehow), and I should have told him, no matter how early it was. I was scared he would run away. But that's not mine to control. And it isn't here, either. Mine is only to be honest about what is happening. And here it is. I love him.

You scored as Enterprise D (Star Trek). You have high ideals and know in your heart that humanity will continue to evolve in a better people. No matter what may happen, you have faith in human beings. A rare quality. Now if only the Borg would quit assimilating people. Moya (Farscape) 69% Enterprise D (Star Trek) 69% Babylon 5 (Babylon 5) 69% Deep Space Nine (Star Trek) 63% Nebuchadnezzar (The Matrix) 56% Andromeda Ascendant (Andromeda) 50% Millennium Falcon (Star Wars) 50% Galactica (Battlestar: Galactica) 50% SG-1 (Stargate) 44% Serenity (Firefly) 38% Bebop (Cowboy Bebop) 38% FBI's X-Files Division (The X-Files) 31% Your Ultimate Sci-Fi Profile II: which sci-fi crew would you best fit in? (pics) created with QuizFarm.com

The letter regarding the birthday cake (ps, the birthday party was amazing, despite the fact that my father called me on my mother's birthday, two days before mine, I think this has been the best birthday in about 10 years. 18 comes pretty close, but I had to organise that one myself.

Okay, the letter:

Dear Matthew

Happy Birthday

About your cake:

The cake, basically is a ridiculously large, completely over-the-top pulsating, reverberating chocolate heart. It is awkwardly, gloriously overwhelming...It is self-aware and although the cake knows how much space it already consumes it is constantly asking itself
"How can I be more?"...It considers "Maybe if I start chanting 'cocoa bean, vanilla bean, dream whip' in sanskrit I'll transcend being a mere cake and become an edible metaphor."
The cake has flowers on its chest. It admits the flowers aren't a metaphor, they're excess, decorative, they probably could stand to be stripped away...The cake believes that if it manages to strip enough away it might return to its essence, which is essentially a small lump of unsweetened baker's chocolate. The cake is secretly afraid of revealing its true nature.
The cake has many layers. It wonders: "Why can't I just be a normal cake and work in an office somewhere where I won't have to feel so much?" But even as it wonders this the cake understands that it will always feel too much after all it's a freakin heart shaped cake!
Early today the cake expressed some concerns that maybe it was too dry or perhaps too sweet or not sweet enough or not interesting enough...or that maybe people weren't interested in a chocolate cake at all that they would've preferred a flan. The cake shudders at the thought of flan...so the cake did some work on this and realized that those fears were caused by a deep need for the love that it has to offer to be accepted. The fact that this acceptance would probably result in its being savagely cut into small pieces and devoured doesn't even occur to the cake...but if the cake did realize this its response would most likely be "Bring it on!"
The cake is confused about its sense of home. It's understandable as in its short life time the cake has moved from bowl to pan to cooling rack to freezer to tray which was too large, to tray which was too slimsy, to something just right that wasn't a tray at all...and then there was that embarassing incident with the icing. But the cake is coming to terms with its transient nature and is resolved to creating a sense of home whrever it lands by developing a network in the community...as I write this the cake is working at getting to know some salmon pockets in the fridge. They seem to just want sex and the cake is not sure if that's what it wants. (It actually just wants to love...that's why it's shaped like a heart not like a pole dancing pole or a Vancouver Art Gallery)
What the cake doesn't know is that it is directly on its path towards fulfilling its ultimate purpose, in fact there is a higher power that created it and is leading it towards a bright shining moment of glorious light where it will be called upon to give absolutely everything of itself to a room full of complete strangers (How divine!).
The cake is complicated. It's had a pretty hard life. the cake heard somewhere that life is pain. It still finds ways to be grateful.
I watched the cake evolve and was stunned by its rate of transformation and also with how gracefully it handled itself through some awkward moments.
Oh Matthew! The reason that I love you is that I don't know if I'm writing about you, me, the cake or everything.
It has been a joy to know you and I am so grateful that you followed whatever impulses led you here. Where will they lead you in your 27th year?
Have a Happy Birthday.
All my love,
Ronya

P.S. The cake ironed no shirts at all yesterday, nor did it wake up at 7am to iron more shirts. The cake is just happy being a cake...it's doing cakeasana.

I had a dream that I got threatened by a hotel manager last night. It was at the hotel in Ottawa where I've set my sights for the fundraiser - I want an Ottawa package, and it's this swanky boutique hotel downtown, called the ARC.

The manager grabbed my arm and was like "Finish your drink, and then get out." It was awful. And I had nowhere to stay in the city. I had walked into someone's room by accident, thinking it was mine, then tried to cover my tracks, and went down to the lobby to have a drink, and I poured myself this HUGE beer glass full of white wine, and was sitting there with my bags, trying to figure out where I was going to stay (I realised that I hadn't actually made a reservation at the hotel), and he came over and did the get out thing. Then I finished the glass of wine and went to pay for it, and it was $41!! It was one of those flared pilsner glasses, but it was huge, like an obnoxious amount of white wine, but still not $41 worth. I don't even really drink white wine. I was pretty upset. However, I felt drunk after the one glass.

In other news, apparently rae ellen said this dance business is doing excellent things to my body.....
I'd agree with that statement!
I was able to do a shoulder stand and maintain it without the aid of my arms and hands today, and hold it for a good long
time, lowering into the plow all on my own, again, without any brachial assistance. Whee!


It's my birthday. I'm excited to have brunch with Trish and Phil, and to have a party for which I only have to provide some hummus

Peace is not boredom.

I've decided I'm going to let my father worry about money, since he wants to take that on. Of course, this is not completely possible, but I'll let my dad eat his heart out about it. I'll be fine, financially for the rest of the time I'm in Vancouver. Once I get to Toronto, who knows, but for now, I think I will be okay, if I live frugally.

We start rehearsals very soon, and that will be added to the rehearsals I've been doing for Ronya's piece. Yesterday we went into the studio together, and she gave me a bit of movement vocabulary, and she's just got no idea how fantastic a choreographer she is. Not only because she has huge amounts of material to provide, but also because she facilitates my own creative process. We did some improvisation yesterday, and I cam up with some stuff that I'm very happy about. And she just chose the stuff that she liked, and we kept it. We're going back into the studio after class today, if we can find space.

Also, some of my favourite people have expressed interest in working with me in Toronto, when I get back. And it's either physical theatre work, or dance that they want to do with me. Yes! This will be my work. I'm beginning to establish myself. I'm hoping to get some notice from Denise Fujiwara, and see if she would want to work with me on anything. The fact that Erika and she are working together, and that then she is going to direct our show - plus the butoh connection - it's only a matter of time, I hope.

Plus, my birthday is on Sunday, and someone (Ronya) is throwing me a party! The first I've ever had, that I didn't orgnise myself. AND!!! Yesterday, I tried to remember Ben's phone number, and I couldn't! He's almost gone!

Anyway, off to dance class. I love my life.

Right. A couple of things. Dance class was AMAZING today. The imagery was particularly strong.

Ronya quotation: "Dance is confusing to people because there is no product." Wow. That's true. It doesn't have money as its product, a lot of the time. And also, she mentioned that people in her life think she's being taken advantage of by the Kokoro folks. It's because they think there must be money in it somewhere, but really it's just not there.

Anyway, here's my thoughts on the whole thing, with one day's distance. I am currently cleaning out my inbox, and was reading a message from an artistic director colleague of mine, who mentioned that she was trying to make her rent this month. It sucks for her, but it's nice to know that I'm not insane, as my father thinks, and that this will just be my life. What it comes down to is that my feelings were (are) hurt by the fact that in the money argument, it came out that my father doesn't really support what I do. I thought we'd moved past that, and hence the blow. But it is better that you have a passion than a job that you hate just because you are tied to money. I don't have a dearth of support in this opinion. I have lots of friends and colleagues who believe in what I do. I just have to get used to the fact that my dad isn't one of them. It just will take some getting used to. And really, it motivates me to stick to the weaning (weening?) schedule from my parents. I don't want to have to justify anything I do to them. My dad is right. I'm nearly 27 years old. I am not interested in being accountable to mummy and daddy any longer. I still imagine the sale of the condo as the start point of that move, but a certain massage boy seems to think that I need cashflow now. He might have a point. I admit that I'm still a little off kilter from yesterday, but I can't think of any other job that I can have right now. Unless I become a stripper. Or a hooker. He suggested that I wait tables, work at a call center, apply at starbucks, become a jet fighter pilot. We'll see.

I know it is in love that my father called me and pissed all over my day, but the fact remains that now my day is saturated in piss. Piss saturated days smell bad and are uncomfortably moist. And it was all "what would you do if I wasn't here? I can't support you forever!" and of course, since I decided that I'm going to sell my condo, I've been pleasantly dreaming about the fact it will mark the beginning of my weening myself off of my father's support, and somehow, now that's a dream that is saturated in "you're nearly 30 years old and you need to start taking care of yourself" piss. Why do parents know when/where/why to pee on their kids? That is not something at which anyone should be adept. It transfers the origin of the independence into his hands. Not in fact, but apparently. I do not like this. My ego does not like this. And its irrrrrrrrevocable.

From my smart friend with whom I have all sorts of interesting msn messenger conversations:

most people don't understand art until people confirm that it is good and thus somehow justified to the average person... to tell someone that you are pursuing your art with no results as of yet - it is hard for them to believe in it: because it's not concrete.


I'm trying to figure out a way to completely renounce the concerns of this world. Does anyone have any ideas on how I might do that? I don't want to have any things anymore. I don't even want to rent an apartment. But I don't want to be derelict. Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated.
To figure out how I can live the life of a monk, outside of the cells. Again. Any ideas would be lovely.

Oh!

Barbara quotation: "What is the difference between art and entertainment? PROCESS!!!! HELLO!?!?!!?" Eventually, product falls away competely as a concern of art. It takes care of itself.

I see myself spiralling upward from my roots. The fact that my parents and my sister have no idea what I'm talking about most of the time strikes me as a testament to the fact that I've grown beyond the beautiful and wide-ranging base with which my family provided me. But as I look at it from their point of view, it becomes clear to me that they think I am spiralling too, but in a totally different direction: they see me spiralling downward or inward in a dangerous, useless and self-destructive trajectory. They don't understand what I do, or where I'm going, and they're either terrified of me, and what might happen to me (my dad), or they have written me off as borderline crazy, and they wouldn't be surprised if I landed myself in a mental institution, or as a complete recluse one day (my mother and my sister).

Lovely.

I was a little unfair in that last post. The lecture was more for these reasons:

the fact that I'm abjectly poor, and that I shouldn't have moved to Vancouver, inducing this financial stress "for nothing."

The best thing about this, is that under the guise of support, my father has revealed the big secret: he still doesn't think my career is viable. Nice one.

I can't wait until I have some modicum of financial independence from my family. In lecturing me (it's a lecture, no matter what he says) about money, and the fact that I'm abjectly poor, my father let slip that he thinks I moved to Vancouver "for nothing." Nice. And since buying the condo with my mother, she has turned into the Wicked Witch of the North and South and East and West of my life.

I admit that I'm feeling a little sorry for myself here. But good God. ASSEZ! ASSEZ! When do I get to be an established artist? Also, when do I get to make decisions about my career, and deal with those decisions on my own recognizance? Well, once I get to be independent of these people. I love them. I know they love me. I know it's all in love. But it's bloody exhausting. I have this feeling that my communications with them will cut down drastically for a little while once I'm independent. Oh hope for the day.

my computer is back. i think i have a boyfriend. we go back into rehearsal in three weeks. i'm in another show where i get to wear a tent (i'm excited about that), i'm a choreographer now. i'm so broke i had to get more overdraught protection. lordy.