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Jun. 8th, 2008 11:21 amDespite the allergy side of my life (I've been able to eat out again for a couple of months - and have even done so, thanks to good friends, but other aspects are still to return to normal and right now I'm facing the world behind powder, because I'm missing the top layer of skin in some crucial places, which obviously none of you need to know but I'm feeling generous in medical matters today) this long weekend has started supremely well.
What was particularly good was last night. Since I was a child, I have wanted to go to a play in the presence of the writer, so I could check my interpretations and talk about how he/she put everything together and find out what happened at other performances and meet the actors. Last night I did this. It was wonderful. It was an especial treat because the playwright was 50% of one of my favourite couples.
Before I tell you about it, let me just say 'nya, nya, nya' to anyone who has been in the vicinity of "Shorter and Sweeter' and couldn't be bothered going. It's rare to see short plays these days, and Shorter and Sweeter was an excellent collection. I had two favourites (favourites by a long shot) but none were bad. There were only two I wanted to take an editing pen to and suggest changes. This is a very good ratio for me, considering that for the last fifteen minutes I've had a dire urge to annotate Thackeray's Book of Snobs. Now I just want to write my own Book of Snobs, covering the modern variety.
A group of us formed a claque last night and made Iain sign our programs and followed him round a bunch. He deserved it. His play is very bleak and took us all far more deeply into the realm of personal choices and consequences than ought to be possible in something that short.
And yes, I did get to talk to him afterwards about it and I did get to meet the key actress. She told me how she worked the makeup out and I told her that I knew from that place and time who turn their cups just like she did. I can't tell you more, because if it has a run near you then you so need to see it: spoilers might help non-Australians, but the thing about short plays is that you need to see them the first time it without spoilers.
Iain and his co-writer had what was easy the most truly shocking play of the night. It bit deep. This was funny, because there was a play that was entirely performed by completely nude actors and warnings about this had been disseminated. There was nothing shocking about it, though. There was certainly no moment when my life was shaken.
The thinking that Relics has induced just won't go away. I keep dwelling on the fact that we need to make conscious choices not to become monsters and not to stop caring about every human life (yes, even people who unintentionally stamp on your soul - though I do think that when someone stamps on your soul they should no longer be considered a trusted friend). We can't make choices for other people, but we can take responsibility for who we are. In fact, we are responsible almost always, even if our choices are made through fear or through lack of awareness.
The message was very well timed. Every few years I get people who stamp on my soul, and that time appears to have come round again. It's a byproduct of my personality being a little larger than life, of the chronic illness (which certain people assume is feigned or must be endured in silence or should be hidden behind a public face), of being Jewish or otherwise different (I claim that it's my big toe being differently shaped, which is a lie, but puts things in perspective), or that I need to know my place and remain one of the small people with enclosed lives. When it happens, it hurts, and when it happens it's my choice to grow through it or to take the place they assign me. I can accept their choices for me, or I can be myself.
Relics reminded me that choices have consequences and that some of those consequences can be frightening. It reminded me why I keep choosing and why I don't want to be small person. This time, just as all the other times I've made this decision, I choose to remain Gillian and be all of myself.
Being bigger is rather more than growing my skin back. It's being able to walk with the same inner selfhood as other people, secure in the fact that - whatever they think - I'm a worthwhile human being. And that eccentricity and differences are part of that and people who care for me will understand this and not try to make me into someone else. My choice today is (apart from growing back skin - and if you're wondering why I'm so focussed on skin, it's because every blink hurts and every footstep smarts) to maintain my honesty with the world and if people choose not to see it or they want to disbelieve it, then that's their choice and they will have to live with that choice.
What's really wonderful is that making active choices helps sort out the qualities of other people. But that's another story.
PS Not only did I have a great evening and add wonderful stuff to my library, I also acquired a Batman to protect some of my books. What I think I need (very long term) are models of favourite characters, one for each shelf. Counting my Asterix and the Belle figurine my nieces got me and my mud man, that's 5 shelves with protection. Only 112 to go. The Batman is my first actual toy of this sort. It's steampunk and way cool. It filled a gap from my childhood, which was remarkably toy free.
When I was choosing it (more choices!) I discovered how picky I was. I didn't want a Michelle Pfeiffer Catwoman, for instance - for me a Catwoman figurine has to be based on Lee Meriwether. I wanted Dr Who, but the only Dr Who toy in the shop was the Tardis key. But I have my Batman and am happy. Right now he's protecting Thackeray from outraged snobs.
PPS Just a couple more enrolments and I shall be teaching in Sydney next Saturday. Be afraid!! I'm not afraid, though - I always get great students in Sydney and we always do interesting things.
What was particularly good was last night. Since I was a child, I have wanted to go to a play in the presence of the writer, so I could check my interpretations and talk about how he/she put everything together and find out what happened at other performances and meet the actors. Last night I did this. It was wonderful. It was an especial treat because the playwright was 50% of one of my favourite couples.
Before I tell you about it, let me just say 'nya, nya, nya' to anyone who has been in the vicinity of "Shorter and Sweeter' and couldn't be bothered going. It's rare to see short plays these days, and Shorter and Sweeter was an excellent collection. I had two favourites (favourites by a long shot) but none were bad. There were only two I wanted to take an editing pen to and suggest changes. This is a very good ratio for me, considering that for the last fifteen minutes I've had a dire urge to annotate Thackeray's Book of Snobs. Now I just want to write my own Book of Snobs, covering the modern variety.
A group of us formed a claque last night and made Iain sign our programs and followed him round a bunch. He deserved it. His play is very bleak and took us all far more deeply into the realm of personal choices and consequences than ought to be possible in something that short.
And yes, I did get to talk to him afterwards about it and I did get to meet the key actress. She told me how she worked the makeup out and I told her that I knew from that place and time who turn their cups just like she did. I can't tell you more, because if it has a run near you then you so need to see it: spoilers might help non-Australians, but the thing about short plays is that you need to see them the first time it without spoilers.
Iain and his co-writer had what was easy the most truly shocking play of the night. It bit deep. This was funny, because there was a play that was entirely performed by completely nude actors and warnings about this had been disseminated. There was nothing shocking about it, though. There was certainly no moment when my life was shaken.
The thinking that Relics has induced just won't go away. I keep dwelling on the fact that we need to make conscious choices not to become monsters and not to stop caring about every human life (yes, even people who unintentionally stamp on your soul - though I do think that when someone stamps on your soul they should no longer be considered a trusted friend). We can't make choices for other people, but we can take responsibility for who we are. In fact, we are responsible almost always, even if our choices are made through fear or through lack of awareness.
The message was very well timed. Every few years I get people who stamp on my soul, and that time appears to have come round again. It's a byproduct of my personality being a little larger than life, of the chronic illness (which certain people assume is feigned or must be endured in silence or should be hidden behind a public face), of being Jewish or otherwise different (I claim that it's my big toe being differently shaped, which is a lie, but puts things in perspective), or that I need to know my place and remain one of the small people with enclosed lives. When it happens, it hurts, and when it happens it's my choice to grow through it or to take the place they assign me. I can accept their choices for me, or I can be myself.
Relics reminded me that choices have consequences and that some of those consequences can be frightening. It reminded me why I keep choosing and why I don't want to be small person. This time, just as all the other times I've made this decision, I choose to remain Gillian and be all of myself.
Being bigger is rather more than growing my skin back. It's being able to walk with the same inner selfhood as other people, secure in the fact that - whatever they think - I'm a worthwhile human being. And that eccentricity and differences are part of that and people who care for me will understand this and not try to make me into someone else. My choice today is (apart from growing back skin - and if you're wondering why I'm so focussed on skin, it's because every blink hurts and every footstep smarts) to maintain my honesty with the world and if people choose not to see it or they want to disbelieve it, then that's their choice and they will have to live with that choice.
What's really wonderful is that making active choices helps sort out the qualities of other people. But that's another story.
PS Not only did I have a great evening and add wonderful stuff to my library, I also acquired a Batman to protect some of my books. What I think I need (very long term) are models of favourite characters, one for each shelf. Counting my Asterix and the Belle figurine my nieces got me and my mud man, that's 5 shelves with protection. Only 112 to go. The Batman is my first actual toy of this sort. It's steampunk and way cool. It filled a gap from my childhood, which was remarkably toy free.
When I was choosing it (more choices!) I discovered how picky I was. I didn't want a Michelle Pfeiffer Catwoman, for instance - for me a Catwoman figurine has to be based on Lee Meriwether. I wanted Dr Who, but the only Dr Who toy in the shop was the Tardis key. But I have my Batman and am happy. Right now he's protecting Thackeray from outraged snobs.
PPS Just a couple more enrolments and I shall be teaching in Sydney next Saturday. Be afraid!! I'm not afraid, though - I always get great students in Sydney and we always do interesting things.