A letter home

Dear pUnit,

I had grand ambitions this week.

But it’s cold and I’m tired and somehow, the idea of trying to talk about this week is overwhelming.

I learned a lot this week. A lot. About things I thought I knew but clearly didn’t actually comprehend. I learned about things I thought I did well but clearly not well enough.

The a-hah moments are great. Like lights going on in rooms that you thought you could already see in. Like suddenly finding the trick to stand up right out of a front roll or the realisation that when I’m up in front of the group I tend to forget they are there – so how could I possibly be doing anything that was for anyone other than me and who wants to see that.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve ranted on about how “I don’t want to see how well you cry I want you to make me feel what it is to cry”. Hurt this week to realise I wasn’t, am not yet, able to do that. I think I’ve thought a lot of things I’ve never tried were, pfff, no problem. Turns out, putting your money where your mouth is can feel, at first, like a bit of an expensive habit!

I wanted to write about how I had the chance this week to step out somewhat from the spotlight and create the soundscape for our piece and how it allowed me to find the breath and space to really collaborate with the group rather than just eyes-shut run as fast as I can just to keep up. That I see how I want to be in the thick of it, like I was as the bruiteur, watching and listening, finding places where I could help the story be stronger, trying things out and tossing them with no hurt feelings when they didn’t work…

I can’t tell which makes me feel worse right now. Not posting anything today or posting something that doesn’t feel totally inspired or, in some form, curated. I think the not posting ick feel wins. I think the point is that this is what I got right now and ain’t no body paying to read this so…

Feels like I’ve been gone since before I left for the first term. Don’t know why really. Feels like the time in between was just another part of the school. Another impossible task created for the sake of the experience.

I’m so happy to be here. This work is so great and I can feel the difference in my body and my soul. This child of wine is a different beast than the one who arrived here a year ago. Different than the one who struggled through the six months in between of unknown uncertain un-ness.

It’s going to be another week tomorrow. Duh. I mean it’s another lifetime each week as the pace does nothing but increase and each week we start again in new groups trying to collaborate and communicate and somewhere in all of this to create…

I’m doing my best not to worry about what’s outside. it’s a luxury afforded me by being someplace I can’t work, someplace I can’t really live as in a normal life and so I immerse myself and I surround myself with all the things that will enhance this opportunity…

This is the easy part after all. The hard part comes post-June when this is over and it’s back to the real world and work and rent and careers and taxes and somewhere in all of this to create…

Love you miss you

C. of Wine