NYC Day 4
Suzuki ain’t got nothin’ on NYC for working the lower body and maiming the feet… and I’mreallyplanning on wearing heels tonight?
Transit’s giving me a bit of a run for my money – tried for Harlem earlier today and just about made it to Queens – after a nice chat with a very New York New York ol’dame who tried to pitch me her ‘famous friend’s’ script called Nixon and after I finally got myself back on the right track (pun intended, c’mon now) I found myself reflecting on the viewpoint training and seeing a pretty triangle running around in circles between Training – Creating – Living. Getting lost in NYC is pushing me into that brain space I was so afraid of during the training; the space in which I am open to new situations, looking around for what interests and affects me, reading intently and offering up possibilities as they arise.
I’ve been missing these daily writing sessions and am struggling to find the new approach to this blog now that the program is done. In that spirit, the following are two bits of brain matter I put down on paper:
On my way to my lovely guest home in Harlem on my first day here I drove past an elementary school that was barred fenced gated and who knows what else. It made me wonder how you foster learning, amazement, imagination and experimentation when you walk through that amount of fear each and every day.
I feel tiny here in this city; after 4 weeks with 75 faces now landed amongst the billions I am so small. I am anxious and on alert. But I have learned of courage and I have learned of strength. I have been blessed to be accompanied here by many of the 75 and together we face our inevitable reintegration, each day with several less in our tribe. We try to hold on to what it was that changed us, challenged us, marked us as artists during our get-away from the everyday but it is hard. It is different. A viewpoint session in the park seemed a blissful perfect afternoon – if only the world weren’t so fantastically vast. If only we weren’t so new to this language.
I saw a show tonight, FG came, a friend from TO was acting. Within the first 2 minutes we were subjected to the now infamous opening melody of Strav’ Rite. You’ve got to be kidding me! Someone was held aloft. Score used as art. Broken expectations. Revelations of character and space. Unison. Solo. It was the 75 minute version of one of our compositions.