i have measured my life out in coffee spoons.
Yuk . My mind is full of mushy bullshit. So, if this gives any indicator for how this entry is going to be, I warn any readers to maybe steer clear for the sake of their own good humour. I was saying to Fausti just then that I'm going through one of those phrases where I am just incredibly sick of my brain. I keep on thinking this allegedly amazing and epic and life-changing thoughts and then going in circles, getting frustrated with the ludicrous nature of them then throwing them away. I do think that it is just a symptom of intellectual exhaustion- Pulse is all about acting from the body, responding to impulses, but having an overarching creative composer that helps to shape the physical motif that occurs, and what you do with it. Not thinking turns out to be just so very exhausting.
Pulse is simply astounding. Acting training is fun and challenging and wonderfully contrary in all its glory. We're told to not over-analyse everything, but at the same time Tanya brings up these incredibly perceptive observations about things that happen on the floor- for instance, "Tom, you dragging Hannah across the floor became too repetitive and plateaued". But this was because I was trying to sustain the action and allow it to develop (of course, without actually developing it). And what I am finding is that conceptually I understand a lot of what she says. I see things on the floor and I get that a certain moment is working, or has the potential to be dramatically enthralling. But get me on the floor and I seem to miss all these important factors.
Ok, so that's one thing that keeps circling through my mind. Then comes the next thought that tells that voice to shut up and allow myself to make mistakes and that they are good, and the best way to learn. And anyway, why should I expect to be amazing at it after a mere week of this stuff?
Then I suddenly begin thinking about ANZAC day, and the ridiculousness of these public holidays that we "celebrate" that mean very little to a huge proportion of the Australian population. But then, I think should I actually care about ANZAC day? Does it matter that I am ideologically opposed to war? Should that belief remain seperate from acknowledging the people that died in war? Because fuck, these people went out and they were shot and killed. Sure, they were part of a stupid power snatching cock fight. But the fact that they were these tiny pawns within a greater fight, that ultimately their death would have meant nothing to the big leaders....surely that's something to be sad about and to reflect on? What it comes down to, I guess, is that I hate this idea that to a large extent I feel like war is glorified during these celebrations. Especially when someone dares to say the word "God" in reference to it, particularly if in relation to the soldiers in the middle east. Don't you dare try to say that God would want anything to do with such an atrocity.
So, maybe I do care. But it is this wankery that goes on in my mind that frustrates me. I want to silence it. Put it to sleep for a while. For another day when I want to think about these things. A day where I'm suitably thoughtful about the matters of the universe- where I find it exciting, and not banal and repetitive. Because deep down I know that what I am thinking means something- if not to a greater context, then at least to me. To work out how I perceive myself, and the world around me. To turn those perceptions on their head and suddenly change my mind.
In quieter thoughts, yesterday was B and my 3 month anniversary. We celebrated it over a bag of cheese and onion chips after I'd finished class yesterday afternoon before he went back into rehearsal. Not the most romantic way, but in a way it didn't matter because I don't feel like I have to rush around and cling onto every little week anniversary, or tiny landmark, because this is not going to be over soon. Not if I have anything to do with it.
Pulse is simply astounding. Acting training is fun and challenging and wonderfully contrary in all its glory. We're told to not over-analyse everything, but at the same time Tanya brings up these incredibly perceptive observations about things that happen on the floor- for instance, "Tom, you dragging Hannah across the floor became too repetitive and plateaued". But this was because I was trying to sustain the action and allow it to develop (of course, without actually developing it). And what I am finding is that conceptually I understand a lot of what she says. I see things on the floor and I get that a certain moment is working, or has the potential to be dramatically enthralling. But get me on the floor and I seem to miss all these important factors.
Ok, so that's one thing that keeps circling through my mind. Then comes the next thought that tells that voice to shut up and allow myself to make mistakes and that they are good, and the best way to learn. And anyway, why should I expect to be amazing at it after a mere week of this stuff?
Then I suddenly begin thinking about ANZAC day, and the ridiculousness of these public holidays that we "celebrate" that mean very little to a huge proportion of the Australian population. But then, I think should I actually care about ANZAC day? Does it matter that I am ideologically opposed to war? Should that belief remain seperate from acknowledging the people that died in war? Because fuck, these people went out and they were shot and killed. Sure, they were part of a stupid power snatching cock fight. But the fact that they were these tiny pawns within a greater fight, that ultimately their death would have meant nothing to the big leaders....surely that's something to be sad about and to reflect on? What it comes down to, I guess, is that I hate this idea that to a large extent I feel like war is glorified during these celebrations. Especially when someone dares to say the word "God" in reference to it, particularly if in relation to the soldiers in the middle east. Don't you dare try to say that God would want anything to do with such an atrocity.
So, maybe I do care. But it is this wankery that goes on in my mind that frustrates me. I want to silence it. Put it to sleep for a while. For another day when I want to think about these things. A day where I'm suitably thoughtful about the matters of the universe- where I find it exciting, and not banal and repetitive. Because deep down I know that what I am thinking means something- if not to a greater context, then at least to me. To work out how I perceive myself, and the world around me. To turn those perceptions on their head and suddenly change my mind.
In quieter thoughts, yesterday was B and my 3 month anniversary. We celebrated it over a bag of cheese and onion chips after I'd finished class yesterday afternoon before he went back into rehearsal. Not the most romantic way, but in a way it didn't matter because I don't feel like I have to rush around and cling onto every little week anniversary, or tiny landmark, because this is not going to be over soon. Not if I have anything to do with it.