1/21/11: Solo Training Session #2

Afraid to video myself. Annoyed that I can’t do the full 2 hours. Afraid that I’m not going to come up with anything good, that I’ll do this exploration and find nothing. Fear that there are many other people out there much more qualified to do this than I am.


Contemplative Practice (7 minutes):
Child’s pose. Brought a blanket this time, and a warm hoodie. Made some sound but mostly tried to meditate. Body and mind felt pretty happy.

Warm-Up (7 minutes):
Turned on video camera and tried really hard to ignore it. Rolled around developmental movement-style. Played with sighs that turned into sounds. Exploring upper part of register (in contrast to last week’s baritone, and in response to recent conversation about my learned/artificial lowering of my natural vocal register).

Free Improvisation (40 minutes):
Spent time making high screechy wails, listening to the double tones that those sounds can make.

Did slow motion fist-fight. Played with sounds to accompany each motion.

Realized I hadn’t done my morning altar-waking ritual, so did a mimed version of those actions.

The opening of the Yemeni flower candle-holder became a twirling, dervish-esque dance. Wished I could dance better.

Found a character – a pre-adolescent Israeli girl dancing alone, singing songs to herself in a high strange soprano voice that are half made-up, half-traditional. Perhaps she is a prophet.

Ran around in circles. Ran back and forth. Walked a line in the floor like a tightrope, quickly. Speech about how perception feels like in fast motion versus slow motion.

Slow motion exploration, thinking about sensation inside the body.

Someone walks in at the end. Wish this room had doors that lock.

Note-taking (10 minutes):
Walked over to the Stanford Memorial Church, took notes sitting in the beautiful silence and golden light, under the sweet angels. Wrote Tiny Imaginary Play #2 (click here to read)

1/14/11: Solo Training Session #1

Afraid to begin. Annoyed at my constant procrastination. Wondering why I am doing this at all. Fear of narcissism and wasting time. Fear that this is the wrong time to do this, too late or too early, or not under the appropriately auspicious stars.

Contemplative Practice (10 minutes):
Sat in child’s pose. Made low, long sounds. Tone resonance is nice in the studio. Body feels achy, sick, lethargic, cold. Floor is very cold.

Warm-Up (10 minutes):
Too achy to be very physical. Worked feet and ankles mostly. Sang “The Water is Wide.” I don’t know the lyrics so I make up new ones. Created a game with myself about improvising lyrics.

Free Improvisation (30 minutes):
Mostly on the floor. Mostly with eyes closed. Room grew darker as session went on, quite dark at the end. Lots of crawling on belly and singing while in fetal position, or what I called “june bug pose.”

Speech about moment of psychic release that follows lovemaking and the attempt to find that full surrender elsewhere in life. Speech about being afraid to fall asleep the night before for fear I’d stop breathing in my sleep. Two releases – one desirable, the other terrifying.

Made up a song and a character that sings it – an old Black Jamaican man. Sang in an unfamiliar baritone voice that felt good in that room. Glad that no-one can see me. Sang “Hey ho, nobody home” in this same character.

Looked at hands to check and see if I was dreaming. This became a dance. Finally at the end I was able to dance – free movement, hips open, still very contained but at last I was a creature with feet and not just a june bug.

Very appreciative of the privacy of the space. Being alone feels safe and strange.

Note-taking (10 minutes):
Had idea about creating “tiny imaginary plays” after every session. I will post these on my other blog "Parapraxis" and link to them here. Voila, Tiny Imaginary Play #1 (click here to read)

Intertext: Sun Dogs and Theatrical Practice

Sun dogs, also known as parhelia or "phantom suns," are an atmospheric phenomena that create bright spots of light in the sky on either side of the sun. Often appearing in an arc or halo, they are the result of light passing through ice crystals in the sky.

They've been seen and mused on throughout history, and show up in art and literature, often interpreted as signs from the divine.

I've been lucky enough to see them on several occasions, and while I know they're purely astronomical phenomena that can be explained away in an instant as a mere side effect of physics and chemistry, I still find them beautiful and mystic.

In this blog I plan to keep a record of my experiences in my solo training practice. I'll write weekly after each session, and perhaps occasionally share video snippets. Because this blog is a record, I'll attempt to describe my experiences simply and without too much reflection, analysis, or interpretation. It may be dull, but I hope that it will add in some small way to the greater body of knowledge that emerges from practice as research.