litbitch

unmoored

Strange place right now.  Not bad, but dark.  I blame a combination of things:

Having free time for the first time this year.  With the exception of the "holiday season" 2007-2008, first free time since June or July of last year.  Like all these things - my physical and spiritual health, my sense of self, the organization of my home and career, my academic life, have been hovering with centripetal force and now, with stillness, are scattered at my feet, waiting for me to clean up.  They're not hounding or bullying me, mind you.  Just sitting and waiting at the periphery.

The song Casimir Pulaski Day by Sufjan Stevens

The book House of Leaves by Mark Danielewski

I don't know that I can really delve into the whys of the latter right now, or ever, so I'll just deal with the tangentials - the relatively easy things both works of art are bringing up for me.

I bought Come on Feel the Illinoise months ago, but, with the exception of the drives to and from hell Rochester, where I contained my music to the radio, in the (successful) hopes of pleasing my traveling companion, I haven't driven much at all this year.  When I've been in my car, I've been running lines with a tape recorder or half-absorbing the white noise of NPR.  Haven't spent much time at home except to sleep, and Sufjan's isn't, for the most part, an MP3 while biking kind of album.  So it's been sitting.  But I made its acquaintance again during fringe, and have been truly haunted by this song ever since.  The "in the morning" harmony caught my attention the first time I heard it, but I ignored the lyrics until last week, and now it strikes me as one of the most beautiful, achingly beautiful songs of recent memory.  More of a perfect, sweetly tragic short story with poetry and underscoring.  And death.

all the hard work is rewarded...

So this is the 3 plays in one week week.  Close one play, open another, and start rehearsing a third.  Going okay so far, but Saturday is the real test.  Haven't seen any of my friends in weeks, still haven't read a book since January, will have done 4 plays in 6 months by the end of June, blahdeblahblah.  I'm enjoying myself, really, I just need a break.  And, apparently, a reward.

So my friend Jason IMs me on Facebook one night (yes, we are so too old for both that verb and that proper noun) and says I'm going to hate him even more than I already do (because he got to see Kids in the Hall (I, of course was performing for their MN show and will be for their Green Bay show) and won't stop talking about how ingenious it was), because he might be going to see Tom Waits in Phoenix. (How's that for a sentence to kick off your day?)

Tom Waits? touring? Tom Waits, the number one musician alive that I want to see perform?  Tom Waits, the genius?  Tom Waits, the American treasure?

I looked up the Phoenix date, found out I was performing, and told Jason not to utter another word, written or otherwise, about it.

But I couldn't let it go.  The tour begins June 17th and ends July 5th, hitting some of the most unlikely cities in the country, and with the possible exceptions of Phoenix (gag), St. Louis (not a fan), and Columbus (why not Indiana, then?), all in the South.  Why?  Tom explains all here:

two favorite white guys: one dead, one alive

#1) Roy Scheider, who was one of my biggest childhood crushes, died today.  He starred in 2 of my all-time (let's say ... top 40?) movies: All That Jazz; and Jaws, Spielberg's best film.  You want to argue that one with me?  I would be more than happy to indulge you, foolish young grasshopper.

#2)Tom Waits. He's alive.  The Guthrie's doing a tribute performance/music thing called Warm Beer, Cold Women that ends this week.  Wednesday is the only night I can go, as my first free week this year (well, 3 free nights) has rapidly filled up with fringe lottery (tonight!) and a free Jeune Lune preview.  I'm going to try and rush tickets.  Anyone want to join me? 

You know, I used to be afraid of the water.

I can't imagine why.

and now, I shamefully surrender my master's degree

It just hit me today that The Cure's Killing an Arab is based on Camus' The Stranger.

Jesus died for somebody's sins

but not mine.

Patti Smith is inducted into the Rock 'n Roll hall of fame today (they spelled Sam Shepard's name wrong, but what do you expect from a bunch of musicians?).
Thank you, Patti.

breakup songs

The next month promises to be emotionally challenging.  Today was a good example.  Probably because I didn't sleep well.  I became convinced that a scratching noise I heard in bed was coming from my face.  Paranoia ensues; rest does not.  I suppose early February through April 1st will be difficult for a long time.  I won't go into details (if you want to torture yourself you can look at my entry from around this time last year), but there are anniversaries I don't want to remember, anniversaries I can no longer take pleasure in, birthdays I can't celebrate, birthdays that don't mean as much as they used to, and of course the evil that is Valentine's day.  I used to actively boycott VD, then someone told me, and convinced me,  that I had too much love in me for that.  That may still be true. Or maybe I've run out.  Wait... I think... yes, I stored some in the back pocket of my favorite old jeans.  Too busy to fall in love now anyway.  It's just all that hearts & chocolates crap.  I think a little balance is in order... That's right, shoppers, it's time for the greatest breakup songs ... I can think of ... before I get tired of blogging. 

happy birthday jon stewart

Tom Waits, one of my top artistic heroes of all time, made an appearance on The Daily Show on Jon Stewart's birthday, and sang a characteristically heartbreaking, apolitical war song.  As much as I appreciate people like George Clooney, etc, speaking out against the actions our government has taken, or not taken, there is something admirable and pure about artists who are always and forever artists, and political only when it is artistically relevant.

here's to irresponsible behavior

It's a quarter after one, I just got home; I have to be up in 6 hours for work, I've got a performance tomorrow and hopefully a late date with a friend from high school (my only remaining one) who's playing in town for one night; more work and performances & my mom's visiting this weekend and a reading at the playwright's center Monday and I have to somehow cram in 25 hours of SAT scoring by midnight Wednesday. 
But tonight I said "fuck it" and went with a friend to see the Dresden Dolls at First Avenue (a quintessentially Minneapolis experience that I've missed until now).  Longtime readers (are there any of those?) may remember me waxing on about the fabulous duo last summer - I didn't make it to that concert because they sold out, but I have corrected the error.  Besides the slightly creepy, innocently sexual cabaret feel and stockings and white makeup aplenty, there were the additional surprizes of performing art/dancing girls, candy and drumsticks (edible candy, non-edible drumsticks) thrown into the audience, covers of Fugazi and Black Sabbath, a truly Cabaret interlude, with Amanda singing Mein Herr (one of my favorite musical theatre songs) - really, if you know anything about the Dresden Dolls, it's hard to imagine them not doing that one - and an encore with the best version of Mad World I've ever heard (lead guitar & vocals performed by the singer of their opening band, Red Paintings).  Cabaret punk, and dark, postmodern, social-sexual lyrics with a gritty, sultry vocalist to boot. Quality angry white girl music makes me feel like i have the power to fuck or fuck off the world at large and everything in it.  Definitely worth $18.and some loss of sleep.

cabaret punk is freedom!

i'm hurt

what? no one's willing to comment on my abysmal, heat-drugged, 2:am poetry slam?  I'm deeply offended.
I've been in a/c most of the day, and part of that was witnessing the tech for Allegra's gorgeous show, A Heap of Broken Images, so I'm in a good mood.  This is despite the measly four hours of sleep I got between artist arrivals.  I also may have been and may soon be in a position to make myself useful to other people and that makes me happy.
Adding to this exuberance is a song I just heard on the radio.  Nothing earthshattering in form or content, just a fuckin great little song.  By Cake (band of the day, apparently; Allegra uses two of their songs in her show).  Called Stickshifts and Safetybelts, it somehow makes me feel good about life, love, and, of course driving...

my birthday songs

stole this idea from Rik's blog, but rather than dwelling on the negative (and there's plenty) I'm going to highlight the highlights.  I could use some positive reinforcement this week, and especially today, the 2nd anniversary of the beginning of the end of my marriage.  You can go to this website to check out the number one hits in the UK (unfortunately I can't find a similar US website) on your birth day and subsequent birthdays.  Good thing to do when you should be cleaning your house or looking for a job or meditating.  You know, in case you are one of those people who puts stuff off.  Unlike me.  Of course.