Tis the Season

My beyooootiful sister. This was taken a few years ago...

Well, a mere few days after Thanksgiving and Christmas is already floating in the air. I have been making some lists and checking them twice, my favorite list being the one of delectable Christmas goodies I plan to bake. And there have been a few rehearsals of the show I am pseudo "helping" with A Christmas Twist. Think of what would happen if The Christmas Carol and Oliver Twist collided with each other head on and woke up as a brand new play. That's this show. The actors are so talented, the director is visionary, and if you're in the Buffalo area, I call you a fool if you do not find a way to see this show! It is hilarious enough to put even old Scrooge himself in the Christmas spirit.

As you might imagine, one of the things that has been in full force for a few week's now is the Christmas shopping. I try to be pretty careful in who I buy for, as the decision, as much as possible, has nothing to do with who I think is going to be buying gifts for me and feel put out that I have nothing for them. It's just who I think I want to give a gift to. Mostly those near rather than far (the post office at Christmas time has something to do with this, methinks) and handmade or local as much as I can.

But the reason that I love gifts, Christmas or otherwise, has nothing to do with where they come from or when they're given or what they cost. Gifts are meaningful to me because, at their best, they are a sign of the giver's fond reflections on the receiver. Sometimes you know someone well enough that the perfect thing for them jumps off the shelf. But sometimes it's harder, and then you have to sit and think. What do I know about him that would really tip me off? What are her favorite things to do? What kind of things is he interested in? What kind of books does she like, maybe I can discover her new favorite author? The thing that makes presents really beautiful to me is the time spent thinking about the person, and the more you really know them, the better your gift.

I don't really claim to excel at the art of giving gifts, and honestly, some of the people on my list are difficult enough to make me throw up my hands and say, Bah, humbug!" But I still think that the practice of giving gifts, no matter how commercialized and out of control this time of year (shopping stampede injuries and deaths? that honestly makes me feel sick) it is still a beautiful tradition. You know what I'm talking about. Because when you get that thoughtful or unexpected or beautifully handmade gift, you feel known. There are few better things than that.

Also, today is the first Sunday of Advent, the start of the church year and the Christmas season. Maybe you already knew that. If you didn't, I feel sad for the dearth of ecclesiology in your life. I LOVE ADVENT! Happy New Year, everybody!

S.

Court Reporters and Belly Dancers: Clash of the Titans

These are not belly dancers. Nor are they court reporters. They are my friends from Australia, helpfully stepping in in an illustrative capacity.

Today is turning out to be a super wonderful day. I negotiated for an ad space that normally costs $850, offered to one of the organizations I work for at $250, which was a most adrenaline inducing incident, if I may say so. I am a genius at this. Who knew? Also, today I am beginning to contemplate holiday plans that will not start to occur until after Thanksgiving (celebrating Christmas before Thanksgiving is holiday encroachment, and punishable by a night in prison or a hefty fine.) Visions of holiday baking, shopping, and caroling begin to dance in my head. Does anyone else feel, however, an odd sense that it's waaaay too early for Christmas? There's a radio station here in Buffalo that started playing Christmas music right after Halloween, and every time I skim past it and hear Feliz Navidad or some such, I get the strangest feeling, like someone is playing a practical joke. But, nonetheless, I love Christmas and can't wait to start celebrating, except yes I can, I can wait until after Thanksgiving. Okay then. Also, tomorrow is the first day that I will be observing rehearsals at a theatre I work for and it will be the first step of my ascendancy of learning the business of theatre and my road to fame and glory. This is a great day.

So, what I actually wanted to write about is this idea I've been batting back and forth. I take a belly-dancing class every Tuesday night (Dark Tower ladies, we need a reunion!) and there's this court reporting class that ends right about the time we're finishing our stretching and starting to go across the floor. So on any given Tuesday night, there are about five women, all wearing jingly coin belts, belly dancing across a yoga studio as these lovely court reporting ladies file past the window, nervously clutching their stenographers notebooks. Did I mention that before our class there's a bikram yoga class (a kind of yoga which is done in a very warm room) so the windows are completely steamed over. Does this not strike you as a scene ripe with comedic potential?

The trouble is, I took a class in Humor Writing when I was still in college, and it kind of ruined me for being funny in my written work. You know how when you have to explain to someone why a joke is funny, it ceases to be a joke? This was like four weeks of doing that to our own writing. Excruciating. So I have been unable, as of yet, to move forward with my belly-dancing stenographers sketch. But hopefully, someday, by watching enough 30 Rock, I will be able to recover my own intuitive wit, and bring this fantastic scenario to fruition. Stay tuned.

Intentional Play

So, in my short hiatus, I have been trying to think more clearly about what I want this space to be. Not what sort of theme it should have or anything like that, since as we've already established, that's impossible. But what purpose I want it to serve in my life. I think that what I want is for this to be a place of play. I think in the past I've been focused too much on what imaginary other people want from this space, whether they think my thoughts are deep and interesting, whether I talk about dance or Gourmet magazine too often, whether I come off sounding cool and intellectual enough. This is absurdity. I am not a famous blogger, with lots of readers and ads and honorable mention in the New York Times. I don't really think I have that many readers to speak of. So, those of you who have mentioned to me that you read this blog, I love you and I'm so happy you're interested enough in my life to keep coming back here, and I would love for you to keep reading but from now on, I want to be more intentional about pretending that you're not there. By which I mean, I want to free myself from the constraints of "The Watchers," my imaginary people's imaginary opinions about me. Nobody has ever told me that I talk about dance too often. I made that up, a critique that I've been responding to in the way that I go about blogging, that no one ever said to me! And this is my space, and I want to use it for whatever creative action I see fit on a given day.

That being said, I want to start being more intentional about my writing again. It's kind of a long and ridiculous and boringly psychological story, but when I started to be serious about dancing, I felt like writing was something I would have to give up. Like I could only choose one art form or I would be betraying my pursuit of greatness. Well, fortunately I realized that this is silly and I don't want to pursue greatness anyway. But I do think (having been exposed to some really bad writing recently) that I do have some small gift with writing, and I think to just toss it aside is disrespectful, bad stewardship and all that. So, again, I am committing to play, not to post a finished essay every other week, but with intentionality. Intentionality towards those little stories that are happening all around me. Mine and yours.

Okay, that's all for today. Let's play again soon.

The New Thing

So, things have still been zooming around here at about a million miles an hour. Last weekend was full on tango workshop weekend. All tango all the time. And ladies and gents, I have tangoed all that I can, I can't tango no more. At least until Friday. Truth be told, I think I've been taking on more than my solitude-loving soul can handle. So, I haven't really come here today to actually post, sadly enough. More just to check-in and say hi. I haven't really been able to have enough down time to crawl into that mental space where the creative energy lives, where the deep thoughts gather and gel. But I washed some of the dishes today. I figured out why the water wasn't draining out of the washing machine the right way. These are great achievements. These are the great achievements for the past week.

So, I'll leave you with that and one great piece of news: I've been talking to one of my clients, a theatre owner, about doing some more hands-on work with them as part of my job. She is totally supportive of it and wants to get me in there learning lights, sound, and acting as the "outside eye" as they rehearse their productions. I could not be more excited. One more great thing for me to learn. I'd better be careful, though. When I learn videography, I want to become a videographer, when I learn lights, I'll want to become stage crew. Around every new corner there seems to be a possible career change. And to think, when I started college just a few short years ago I thought I had to become a writing major because that was the only thing I could be good at. Pah! Absurdity. Anyway, I am very excited to start this new venture and I thought you all should know. Expect more from me...someday.

S.