Wednesday, December 26, 2007

ARRIVING in ARGENTINA


Argentina is beautiful. My driver he swerves between lanes, with no caution for the dotted white lines. He points out the futbol fields and the houses of worship with the glee of a school-boy.

It is 8 am and the sun is already dominating. The highway, the airport is flanked by a savannah dotted with a myriad of trees. South America. In minutes the trees are replaced with crude apartments. On the façade of these buildings I can see the handiwork of their creators, hundreds of men who have smeared plaster over concrete. La ciudad. I recognize from my guidebook, the Korean and Jewish neighborhood, my driver points out another church and we zip off the expressway, crossing two lanes at once onto the off ramp an into a city surprisingly awake and about for a Christmas morning.


Men grab their crotches and lean against bus stops to take the place of their spines. Women walk with ferocious vigor and purpose. I am at Todd’s.

“Gracias.”

“De Nada.”

My driver zooms off. I never caught his name.


I am now settled into Todd’s place – we each have a station to work at, at the table by the window, computers mirroring one another. I love the sharing and the autonomy of the moments.



We venture outside, Todd sharing with me his adopted home. Quickly, in the comfort of a massive foreign space -- surrounded by another language and protected by a canopy of trees that line every avenue -- we begin to return to our familiar proximity, living in and articulating our fears and dreams and the unique anxiety that surrounds us both. I am with Todd. I am at home.

Monday, December 24, 2007

QUOTEd

utterings with which I agree...
“I’ve always said I want the library to be a crossroads in the city’s intellectual and cultural life,” Mr. LeClerc said.

Full story on the Humanities and Social Sciences Library's crumbling facade here.



1907
The library in progress. When it was dedicated in 1911 after 12 years of construction, the neo-Classical Carrère & Hastings building was the nation’s largest marble structure.
copyright 2007, New York Times






2006

Discarded objects at the library. Research for findings, a performance conceived by Todd Shalom & myself.

Saturday, December 22, 2007

SATURDAYS ARE...

You make it, I take it.


1. Nostalgic TV theme song meets poignant contemporary sensibilities...




2. Underage coed is taught to talk like a sailor in order to save famous dad's career...



*Most prized pilfered content of the year.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

on INSTITUTIONAL HOLIDAY PARTIES



                          unweildy public gatherings make me queezy

wrap me up
                          in old friends
                          or

                          a cup of hot tea






Thursday, December 13, 2007

FAMILIA


          my baby brother is here.
          We watch movies

          and eat;


                              I enjoy taking him for granted.



Wednesday, December 12, 2007

mmmm...TASTY

This is my favorite recipe for a Saturday morning breakfast.

BEST BUTTERMILK PANCAKES
(makes 9, six-inch pancakes)


The key to fluffy pancakes is not to over mix the batter; it should not be beaten smooth. If serving these pancakes with bacon, reserve half a teaspoon of bacon drippings to grease the griddle instead of butter.

  • 2 cups all-purpose flour, unbleached
  • 2 teaspoons baking powder
  • 1 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 3 tablespoons sugar
  • 2 large eggs, lightly beaten
  • 3 cups buttermilk
  • 4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted, plus 1/2 teaspoon for griddle, plus 1 tablespoon for serving
  • 1 cup seasonal berries
  • Maple Syrup to taste


  1. Heat griddle to 375°. Whisk together flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and sugar in a medium bowl.


  2. Add eggs, buttermilk, 4 tablespoons butter, and one cup of your favorite seasonal berries (optional); whisk to combine. DO NOT OVER MIX. In general just mix long enough, a scant minute, to coat all the dry ingredients. Batter should have small to medium lumps.


  3. Heat oven to 175°. Test griddle by sprinkling a few drops of water on it. If water bounces and spatters off griddle, it is hot enough. Using a pastry brush, brush remaining 1/2 teaspoon of butter or reserved bacon fat onto griddle. Wipe off excess.


  4. Using a 4-ounce ladle, about 1/2 cup, pour pancake batter, in pools 2 inches away from one other.


  5. When pancakes have bubbles on top and are slightly dry around edges, about 2 1/2 minutes, flip over. Cook until golden on bottom, about 1 minute.


  6. Repeat with remaining batter, keeping finished pancakes on a heatproof plate in oven.


  7. Serve warm. With real Maple syrup.

Monday, December 10, 2007

COLLABORATIONS

FLEAS INTEREST ME SO MUCH
Pablo Neruda



Fleas interest me so much
that I let them bite me for hours.
They are perfect, ancient, Sanskrit,
machines that admit of no appeal.
They do not bite to eat,
they bite only to jump;
they are the dancers of the celestial sphere,
delicate acrobats
in the softest and most profound circus;
let them gallop on my skin,
divulge their emotions,
amuse themselves with my blood,
but someone should introduce them to me.
I want to know them closely,
I want to know what to rely on.




SLEEP
Kj Swanson


Trying to sleep; What
happened to those nice things I
used to think about?




SOMETHING ON YOUR MIND
Karen Dalton’s In My Own Time


Yesterday any way you made it was just fine,
So you turned your days into night-time,
Didn’t you know, you can’t make it without ever even trying?
And something’s on your mind, isn’t it

Let these times show you that you’re breaking up your mind
Leaving all your dreams too far behind,
Didn’t you see, you can’t make it without ever even trying?
And something’s on your mind.

Maybe another day you’ll want to feel another way, you can’t stop crying,
You haven’t got a thing to say, you feel you want to run away
There’s no use trying, anyway.
I’ve seen the writing on the wall,
Who cannot maintain will always fall,
Well, you know, you can’t make it without ever even trying.

And something’s on your mind, isn’t it
Tell the truth now, isn’t it
And something’s on your mind, isn’t it

TRANSPARENCY

a little glimpse into my right now...
(click on the photo to make it larger)



Saturday, December 8, 2007

THANK YOU ANDREW WYETH

CHRISTINA'S WORLD

I am terribly afraid of intimacy and using language to explore my experiences.

I know that only two folks even know about this blog, but I am still filled with a terrible anxiety every day when I consider drafting a post.

Alas.

Focused reflection,
on a personal level,
is not a strength of mine.
In fact,
I often shrug opportunities
to discuss the events and moments
of my life.
Present readers,
Kj and Todd, excluded.

When I share with you, I feel stronger, more focused and loved. When I struggle to share with others or myself, I often feel inadequate, meandering, fool-hearted. This may be the greatest barrier or obstacle between me and creating new communities and truly investing in my current ones.

Maybe there is something unique in my relationship to Todd and Kj that I need to uncover in myself and the other folks around me.

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

DOCUMENTATION

I finally got it together enough to start documenting my theater work.

in this post: A few photos from my production of TOPDOG/UNDERDOG at Dartmouth College.

The title page of the play, written by Suzan-Lori Parks, reads:

The Players

Lincoln, the topdog
Booth (aka 3-card), the underdog




Friday, November 2, 2007

PUSHING FORWARD

Write everyday.
Observe. A photo. A sketch. A clipping.
Write down where you've come from. Write down where you went, which will, in a few moments, be where you've come from.

Read. A passage. A script. A poem.
Write down what you've read. Write down what you are reading, because in a few moments, it will be what you've read.
On Directing: craft frees the artistic impulses.
Learn to shape moments. Have a gameplan based on 'succesful' forms/formulas.

Be eager to use and know the language of adaptation.

FRAME the action.
This is your lens, your point-of-view. This says to the audience, "here we go. This is how we're going about this journey. Everything hencforth will be in reference to 'this'."

Thursday, September 6, 2007

SUPER OBJECTIVE

400 Scripts sit on the floor between me and my new desk. I guess no one really thought about the mass of undiscovered young playwrights panting for a chance to have their plays produced. I guess no one really thought about where these plays would live as they continue their life's journey from computer screen to printer to mail bin to The Public Theater to await being entered into the company log and then to finally sit in the lap of an esteemed reader of plays. Apparently those thoughts, or lack of thoughts, directed these wayward scripts toward my desk, and to save myself from sounding too self-involved, toward the desks of the entire literary staff as well. So, 4 desks rest idly across the room, separated by a mass of young creative energy, from 4 humble employees who just want to sip their coffee, sit in their chair and read these scripts.

The Public must be doing something right, and Time Warner has certainly invested in a worthwhile artistic pursuit. The Emerging Writer's Group - to be home for 12 playwrights who have never had a professional production in New York - will indeed 'emerge' from a pile of 400 scripts on the floor of our offices. Thrilling!

New beginnings. New obstacles. New triumphs. How's that for some drama?

Today, Sept. 5, 2007, was my first day as the, awkwardly titled, Artistic Leadership Associate (ALA) at The Public Theater in New York.