Day 45
Timer on…
Today is, actually, Day 46, and I will do another series later today, to make up for the lack of doing the asanas yesterday. I was very tired after work and rehearsal yesterday, and I needed my Sabbath. I only got to the make-up version/”Day 45” version just now because I had my Iyengar Yoga Class today in Callicoon, NY, and then Weather Project rehearsal afterwards. I thought I was going to make cookies for the VDAY 2015 event that starts at the college next week, but the weather turned nasty, so…instead, I did my laundry… I then had to walk the dogs before sunset, and get the house back to a normal temperature. My pellet stove is broke, again…and I’m am reliant on the heater…which is fine, once it gets started, but…it’s so wasteful in energy and I don’t like the smell of it…I grew up with wood stoves, and electric heat just seems silly, wasteful, and expensive, but…I am at the mercy of the homeowner, who hasn’t returned my calls or texts, so…I guess she’s out-of-town…
Anyway, I didn’t really have any major discoveries today in either the Iyengar class or the Mourning Asana (pose) series…
I have been thinking about my Dad a lot the past couple of days, while I direct MARISOL by José Rivera and the musical HANDS ON A HARDBODY by Doug Wright, Trey Anastasio, and Amanda Green because the small town nature and the hopes and dreams of upwardly mobile people always reminds me of my Dad and his hopes and dreams for his children, respectively.
I had a moment in the gas station yesterday; where I had to control my emotions because of a Lotto ticket. HANDS ON A HARDBODY reminded me of all of the lost dreams my Dad had, if he ever won the Lotto. He was an avid/obsessed player. So much so, that we had Lotto tickets in our stockings at Christmas that he had chosen for us… He thought, at least, one of us would win because he believed someone in our family deserved it. And…I believed him. I believed, “If anyone deserves to win a million dollars, it’s my Dad…he works hard.” But…he never won…
He had such plans for that money. He was going to buy a sheep farm in Australia, at one point. At another point in time, he was going to buy a cattle ranch in Yellowstone, Wyoming. At another time we were going to travel the world like the book GULLIVER’S TRAVELS. As I grew older and our hopes and dreams changed, he was going to spend the money on making me a theater retreat on his property, so I could make theater there and hang out with my friends, and his kids, as he called all the theater people I worked with. I so wanted those dreams for him…and for me…
Yesterday, looking at those brightly colored, intricate little pieces of paper, I got to thinking about how in HANDS ON A HARDBODY, all of those people also think that fate has chosen them to win this truck. Their name was chosen out of a hat, and it was just a matter of strength and commitment to follow through with fate. There’s some lovely correlations there with my journey, and I don’t know if I would have ever won that truck because, like last night, when I’m too tired, I give in. But…one thing that is forever imprinted in me about my father was the fact that my father never gave up…he just kept working and working…no matter how tired he was… Ultimately, it was his body that gave up.
My body, my face, and my mind, are “mini-me’s” of my Dad. I have his heart condition, I have the same back pain he began getting in his 30s, and I look like a female version of him. I have his hands…the knots and age-d looking things that hang off my arms…I hope that this journey will start to teach me how not to give up, but…to have a healthier body…so that the body will continue, when my mind still wants to…for him…because that’s what he would have wanted.
That’s all for now…more later…
Timer on…
Today is, actually, Day 46, and I will do another series later today, to make up for the lack of doing the asanas yesterday. I was very tired after work and rehearsal yesterday, and I needed my Sabbath. I only got to the make-up version/”Day 45” version just now because I had my Iyengar Yoga Class today in Callicoon, NY, and then Weather Project rehearsal afterwards. I thought I was going to make cookies for the VDAY 2015 event that starts at the college next week, but the weather turned nasty, so…instead, I did my laundry… I then had to walk the dogs before sunset, and get the house back to a normal temperature. My pellet stove is broke, again…and I’m am reliant on the heater…which is fine, once it gets started, but…it’s so wasteful in energy and I don’t like the smell of it…I grew up with wood stoves, and electric heat just seems silly, wasteful, and expensive, but…I am at the mercy of the homeowner, who hasn’t returned my calls or texts, so…I guess she’s out-of-town…
Anyway, I didn’t really have any major discoveries today in either the Iyengar class or the Mourning Asana (pose) series…
I have been thinking about my Dad a lot the past couple of days, while I direct MARISOL by José Rivera and the musical HANDS ON A HARDBODY by Doug Wright, Trey Anastasio, and Amanda Green because the small town nature and the hopes and dreams of upwardly mobile people always reminds me of my Dad and his hopes and dreams for his children, respectively.
I had a moment in the gas station yesterday; where I had to control my emotions because of a Lotto ticket. HANDS ON A HARDBODY reminded me of all of the lost dreams my Dad had, if he ever won the Lotto. He was an avid/obsessed player. So much so, that we had Lotto tickets in our stockings at Christmas that he had chosen for us… He thought, at least, one of us would win because he believed someone in our family deserved it. And…I believed him. I believed, “If anyone deserves to win a million dollars, it’s my Dad…he works hard.” But…he never won…
He had such plans for that money. He was going to buy a sheep farm in Australia, at one point. At another point in time, he was going to buy a cattle ranch in Yellowstone, Wyoming. At another time we were going to travel the world like the book GULLIVER’S TRAVELS. As I grew older and our hopes and dreams changed, he was going to spend the money on making me a theater retreat on his property, so I could make theater there and hang out with my friends, and his kids, as he called all the theater people I worked with. I so wanted those dreams for him…and for me…
Yesterday, looking at those brightly colored, intricate little pieces of paper, I got to thinking about how in HANDS ON A HARDBODY, all of those people also think that fate has chosen them to win this truck. Their name was chosen out of a hat, and it was just a matter of strength and commitment to follow through with fate. There’s some lovely correlations there with my journey, and I don’t know if I would have ever won that truck because, like last night, when I’m too tired, I give in. But…one thing that is forever imprinted in me about my father was the fact that my father never gave up…he just kept working and working…no matter how tired he was… Ultimately, it was his body that gave up.
My body, my face, and my mind, are “mini-me’s” of my Dad. I have his heart condition, I have the same back pain he began getting in his 30s, and I look like a female version of him. I have his hands…the knots and age-d looking things that hang off my arms…I hope that this journey will start to teach me how not to give up, but…to have a healthier body…so that the body will continue, when my mind still wants to…for him…because that’s what he would have wanted.
That’s all for now…more later…
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