Well now I'm back there. WITH A JOB. I am very eager to start working and feeling more productive with my degree. With this position, I will now have such a diverse cornucopia of marketing experiences to display, you won't even know what hit you. I am now the assistant manager of Buckle, a specialty clothing store that emphasizes well-made jeans. I've always liked the store and their cool funky way of doing things is quite appealing. Start Tuesday.
We'll see where this takes me, but I know that in a few years I want to go back to school for my Master's. The ideal would be the UK, but considering the fact that even paper clips cost DOUBLE there, it might be a bit of a stretch. At the same time, I have made this pledge to stop avoiding my dreams just because it might get tough. No more of that. Good riddance, cowardice. I'll make it happen. Even if I have to sell my body to the night. Rooooooooooooxanne!
In other news, my car needs an oil change.
Love,
Katie
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Hello out there! Is anybody listening?
Well I have neglected this blog. That's for sure. But I miss it and I want to continue to feed it with stupid instances and witty words. Yum.
Re: an update... I am still on the hunt for my dream job yet I think it's time I stopped fantasizing about a corner office and a tailored CMO suit. It's just not going to happen at this point. But that does NOT mean I am going to settle for some administrative assistant job. I just won't. And I think I'll be proud of myself later in life for refusing to do so.
I've been applying to things like "Corporate Marketing Assistant" and "Marketing Manager Associate" at places like Crayola and Rodale. Penguin also has some great marketing opportunities but that might be out of my league just yet. I started out getting accepted to internships for theatre companies in the Big Bad City but gently turned them down due to lack of funds. Sorry, but I prefer not to pay in order to work.
It's been hard. And it doesn't help that my family nags me EVERY DAY about whether or not I "got any bites." I finally snapped back with the old "I will tell you when something comes up. Thanks." You know what I think the problem is? All my life I have had a sort of schedule of events. First, I will go to grade school, then I will go to high school and work in the summer, then a 4-year college for a Bachelor's and then.... then I will get recruited by some stellar marketing firm in New York. Life seemed simple when I had a plan. Now, there just isn't a direct path for me to follow, no course of action to which I can say "well, this is what every kid does next, so..."
I find myself missing school because I feel gypped out of a comprehensive 4-year experience (transferring schools is, at the same time, the best thing and worst thing I have ever done). This adds to the feeling of not being ready to enter the workforce. I can't really understand why I've neglected to be a go-getter when it comes to applying for jobs. There's a part of me that doesn't want to be the used car salesman type when it comes to networking and schmoozing and calling companies just to talk to Janet in HR about how I know SO much about her company and have wanted to work there since I could breath. That's just not me.
I guess I want employers to see my resume, see my credentials and cover letter writing skills and say "Gee, she seems like a grand candidate. Let's give her a call."
But I need to wake up. It's 2009 and I need to get with the program.
Do I have to?
Love,
Katie
Re: an update... I am still on the hunt for my dream job yet I think it's time I stopped fantasizing about a corner office and a tailored CMO suit. It's just not going to happen at this point. But that does NOT mean I am going to settle for some administrative assistant job. I just won't. And I think I'll be proud of myself later in life for refusing to do so.
I've been applying to things like "Corporate Marketing Assistant" and "Marketing Manager Associate" at places like Crayola and Rodale. Penguin also has some great marketing opportunities but that might be out of my league just yet. I started out getting accepted to internships for theatre companies in the Big Bad City but gently turned them down due to lack of funds. Sorry, but I prefer not to pay in order to work.
It's been hard. And it doesn't help that my family nags me EVERY DAY about whether or not I "got any bites." I finally snapped back with the old "I will tell you when something comes up. Thanks." You know what I think the problem is? All my life I have had a sort of schedule of events. First, I will go to grade school, then I will go to high school and work in the summer, then a 4-year college for a Bachelor's and then.... then I will get recruited by some stellar marketing firm in New York. Life seemed simple when I had a plan. Now, there just isn't a direct path for me to follow, no course of action to which I can say "well, this is what every kid does next, so..."
I find myself missing school because I feel gypped out of a comprehensive 4-year experience (transferring schools is, at the same time, the best thing and worst thing I have ever done). This adds to the feeling of not being ready to enter the workforce. I can't really understand why I've neglected to be a go-getter when it comes to applying for jobs. There's a part of me that doesn't want to be the used car salesman type when it comes to networking and schmoozing and calling companies just to talk to Janet in HR about how I know SO much about her company and have wanted to work there since I could breath. That's just not me.
I guess I want employers to see my resume, see my credentials and cover letter writing skills and say "Gee, she seems like a grand candidate. Let's give her a call."
But I need to wake up. It's 2009 and I need to get with the program.
Do I have to?
Love,
Katie
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Only to find Gideon's bible
I have less than two weeks of undergraduate schooling left.
I plan on staying longer after classes end. I want to milk these days as best I can.
I don't know how to not impersonate my person.
Love,
Katie
I plan on staying longer after classes end. I want to milk these days as best I can.
I don't know how to not impersonate my person.
Love,
Katie
Monday, April 13, 2009
BFFs. No we're not.
Heyo.
It was a daunting weekend. Want to know why? Even if you don't I'm telling you anyway.
After spending much of Friday afternoon doing work in the Library, I realized my keys were locked inside my house and that I am the most intelligent person in the world. Bess tried to break in with a Blockbuster card and then Justin and Eva traipsed by my door. "Hey! Ha...locked outta mah house! I'm such a...silly person. Heh heh...heh.....Well, see ya later!" Justin tried to break in through my roommate's window but to no avail. "Oh well. Call me if you need a couch." With that they stumbled forth into the night.
And thus began a night of slumber at Bess' house. This slumber included a wonderfully vivid dream about Erica being an art teacher at the summer camp I dreamedly (I made up a word) worked at. The most exciting part I can remember is when a camper introduced herself as Melanie and I said "Oh! Well, you look like a Melanie." Erica took me aside and said I was racist for saying that. And un-PC. I said no I'm not racist. Nor un-PC.
Take that, Erica.
Saturday morning as if by some heavenly miracle brought forth by St. Francis himself (so sue me. I like animals), the Blockbuster card tore through that door with a vengeance. So I put on my Easter outfit and my Easter shoes and got in my car and drowned out the poopiness of the day with some new Bloc Party, until I came upon the ridiculously unnecessary detour about 8 feet before the 78 entrance ramp. (Have you seen this? What could they possibly be doing to an 8 foot stretch of road?) And this detour was a detour to rival all detours. I thought the highway department was playing a joke on drivers. I can just see them in their fluorescent traffic vests and hard hats, smiling villainously and rubbing their dirty, grubby, sausagy hands together saying "heheheee turn left. No right. NO LEFT again. NO RIIIGHT!!!! MUUUhahahah!"
But I made it home. And watched my dad try and control the SEVEN LAMBS he RENTED for our Easter Extravaganza ("What? I like animals"). After watching little kids beat a donkey pinata adorned with makeshift bunny ears, I decided to hide from my family. But not before all 35 of them asked me what I was doing with my life! Oh no. You don't get off that easy! You see it's all about comparisons and making sure no one else is doing better than little Henry who's going to grad school for stem cell research or Barbara who wants to feed yogurt to starving children in Uganda. Over the years, I have developed a way to combat these inquiries. I just tell them I plan on getting my SCUBA certification and marrying rich, or something equally housewifey.
Acting? What about acting.
No, actually I am really excited to work on Moliere, but not as excited for the rhyming. It sounds beautiful but g-damn it's hard to not get into a Dr. Seuss-y rhyming funk. Also, I think I am having trouble trying not to be Phoebe when I play Celimene. I am looking forward to my lovely classmates' help.
This is long-winded.
Love,
Katie
It was a daunting weekend. Want to know why? Even if you don't I'm telling you anyway.
After spending much of Friday afternoon doing work in the Library, I realized my keys were locked inside my house and that I am the most intelligent person in the world. Bess tried to break in with a Blockbuster card and then Justin and Eva traipsed by my door. "Hey! Ha...locked outta mah house! I'm such a...silly person. Heh heh...heh.....Well, see ya later!" Justin tried to break in through my roommate's window but to no avail. "Oh well. Call me if you need a couch." With that they stumbled forth into the night.
And thus began a night of slumber at Bess' house. This slumber included a wonderfully vivid dream about Erica being an art teacher at the summer camp I dreamedly (I made up a word) worked at. The most exciting part I can remember is when a camper introduced herself as Melanie and I said "Oh! Well, you look like a Melanie." Erica took me aside and said I was racist for saying that. And un-PC. I said no I'm not racist. Nor un-PC.
Take that, Erica.
Saturday morning as if by some heavenly miracle brought forth by St. Francis himself (so sue me. I like animals), the Blockbuster card tore through that door with a vengeance. So I put on my Easter outfit and my Easter shoes and got in my car and drowned out the poopiness of the day with some new Bloc Party, until I came upon the ridiculously unnecessary detour about 8 feet before the 78 entrance ramp. (Have you seen this? What could they possibly be doing to an 8 foot stretch of road?) And this detour was a detour to rival all detours. I thought the highway department was playing a joke on drivers. I can just see them in their fluorescent traffic vests and hard hats, smiling villainously and rubbing their dirty, grubby, sausagy hands together saying "heheheee turn left. No right. NO LEFT again. NO RIIIGHT!!!! MUUUhahahah!"
But I made it home. And watched my dad try and control the SEVEN LAMBS he RENTED for our Easter Extravaganza ("What? I like animals"). After watching little kids beat a donkey pinata adorned with makeshift bunny ears, I decided to hide from my family. But not before all 35 of them asked me what I was doing with my life! Oh no. You don't get off that easy! You see it's all about comparisons and making sure no one else is doing better than little Henry who's going to grad school for stem cell research or Barbara who wants to feed yogurt to starving children in Uganda. Over the years, I have developed a way to combat these inquiries. I just tell them I plan on getting my SCUBA certification and marrying rich, or something equally housewifey.
Acting? What about acting.
No, actually I am really excited to work on Moliere, but not as excited for the rhyming. It sounds beautiful but g-damn it's hard to not get into a Dr. Seuss-y rhyming funk. Also, I think I am having trouble trying not to be Phoebe when I play Celimene. I am looking forward to my lovely classmates' help.
This is long-winded.
Love,
Katie
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Beyonce
That is: Beyonce steppin awn out like BAYUM.
Games were definitely what I needed to wake up/forget about my test for a while. Having just taken it, maybe I should have cut class to study instead. Just playin.
As for the chair race... I want to continue it another time! With blocks! And a first aid kit!
I think maybe I need to re-read the text so that I know what I'm doing. I will be honest, I stood there trying to recall some of the plot while we were condensing our scenes into short synopses. Also, I should catch up on blog entries. And do so by actually writing something significant instead of "class was fun today" and "Katherine's shirt was pretty" and "collige is diffacult."
No time like the present:
ehem.
I have been seriously contemplating (for a couple of weeks now) a career that combines marketing with theatre. I love marketing. I love theatre. I might extract jubilance from the marketing of theatre. And even if I don't, I think it's a great start for me. Although there is a sort of monopoly in marketing Broadway shows (jqmcoisdl Nielsen hudhcniscfl), there might be a tiny beam of light in smaller pursuits. Perhaps regional theatre or just marketing the arts in general since I have had experience with a smallish contemporary art museum.
If anyone has any suggestions, please PLEASE let me know. Anything is welcome, as I cannot be overly selective at this point.
Thanks.
Sincerely,
Katherine Kozlowski
Games were definitely what I needed to wake up/forget about my test for a while. Having just taken it, maybe I should have cut class to study instead. Just playin.
As for the chair race... I want to continue it another time! With blocks! And a first aid kit!
I think maybe I need to re-read the text so that I know what I'm doing. I will be honest, I stood there trying to recall some of the plot while we were condensing our scenes into short synopses. Also, I should catch up on blog entries. And do so by actually writing something significant instead of "class was fun today" and "Katherine's shirt was pretty" and "collige is diffacult."
No time like the present:
ehem.
I have been seriously contemplating (for a couple of weeks now) a career that combines marketing with theatre. I love marketing. I love theatre. I might extract jubilance from the marketing of theatre. And even if I don't, I think it's a great start for me. Although there is a sort of monopoly in marketing Broadway shows (jqmcoisdl Nielsen hudhcniscfl), there might be a tiny beam of light in smaller pursuits. Perhaps regional theatre or just marketing the arts in general since I have had experience with a smallish contemporary art museum.
If anyone has any suggestions, please PLEASE let me know. Anything is welcome, as I cannot be overly selective at this point.
Thanks.
Sincerely,
Katherine Kozlowski
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
So What (Miles Davis)
That tune has no words.
Right now I have my window wide open, spontaneous bursts of Miles' trumpet delighting my ear as the lady across the street proclaims to no one in particular: "what a beautiful day!" That it is, that it is.
My list of things to be happy about right at this moment:
1) All of the above.
2) Warmth (physical and emotional)
3) New prospects
4) A great start to a LU Department of Theatre marketing campaign
5) Postponed tests
6) Thai food
7) Strong women
8) A much needed rest
9) Power outages forcing real human connection
10) You
Excellent work today, everyone.
Love,
Katie
Right now I have my window wide open, spontaneous bursts of Miles' trumpet delighting my ear as the lady across the street proclaims to no one in particular: "what a beautiful day!" That it is, that it is.
My list of things to be happy about right at this moment:
1) All of the above.
2) Warmth (physical and emotional)
3) New prospects
4) A great start to a LU Department of Theatre marketing campaign
5) Postponed tests
6) Thai food
7) Strong women
8) A much needed rest
9) Power outages forcing real human connection
10) You
Excellent work today, everyone.
Love,
Katie
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Egad!
Well I haven't written in quite a while, for a variety of reasons. 1: I am disgustingly busy. 2: I really haven't had the inspiration to write about much. How 'wah wah' of me. However, yesterday's class and this crazy R&G tech week have shaken me out of my slump.
I learned so much from Tuesday's class and I am so thankful for all of your patience/support. I think we all faced similar battles with Shakespearean embodiment and I am very confident that our Sesame Street and dancing exercises will give our monologues that extra "heave ho!" (sorry. I'm in pirate mode for some reason...).
Tech week is coming along very well indeed. I was talking to someone yesterday about how this week not only defines the show, but also brings about even more discoveries until it just kind of "clicks."Last night was first dress and as Hilary said, costumes help a lot of things fall into place. Which they did. And that feels good.
I'll admit I kind of put Mr. Tumnus aside for a while. That's all one. Omittance is no quittance. I'll have a story soon, as I have been prodding him with mind laser beams. Muhahahaha!
Love,
Katie
I learned so much from Tuesday's class and I am so thankful for all of your patience/support. I think we all faced similar battles with Shakespearean embodiment and I am very confident that our Sesame Street and dancing exercises will give our monologues that extra "heave ho!" (sorry. I'm in pirate mode for some reason...).
Tech week is coming along very well indeed. I was talking to someone yesterday about how this week not only defines the show, but also brings about even more discoveries until it just kind of "clicks."Last night was first dress and as Hilary said, costumes help a lot of things fall into place. Which they did. And that feels good.
I'll admit I kind of put Mr. Tumnus aside for a while. That's all one. Omittance is no quittance. I'll have a story soon, as I have been prodding him with mind laser beams. Muhahahaha!
Love,
Katie
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
She's a rich girl, she don't try to hide it
Spring break: you were much too short. Or I suppose that's relative. Any duration would be too short, especially because one week or more results in a sort of funk that's difficult to get out of in either case.
Right now I am looking at my copies of "Tommy" and "A Fish Called Wanda" I bought for $9.99 each at Barnes & Noble with a gift card. I want to watch them right. now. Those movies are epic.
Just like Shakespeare! I am thrilled to start working on As You Like It because I have never attempted to act within this genre. It's like the 6 ft end of a swimming pool. I'm a pretty good swimmer but that doesn't mean it's OK to dive, especially when no lifeguards are on duty. This metaphor is so long. It could go on forever, really. "You can tread, but only for so long." "You can either sink or swim." "Goggles would help clear things up... maybe a snorkel to work on breathing technique" blah blah blah. But that's what literature connoisseurs want you to think. That Shakespeare is God's gift to the world -- like The Beatles of theatre or something. But I'll be honest, he is not my favorite. Which is not to say I don't appreciate his work or that I haven't read enough of it to really know what I'm talking about. I guess for me it boils down to this: the delivery of lines filled with beautiful metaphors that no real person could think up on the spot is all cool and fun and impressive and then it becomes... expected. I guess the actor's challenge is to avoid this. E'en so, old tricks lose their effect and next thing you know... OH GOD! She obviously doesn't know theatre. I don't pretend to. I just know what I like. And not all of it filters back to an Elizabethan mastermind. And thus, I shall not let myself be intimidated by this.
Onward.
I am not embarrassed to say it: I sometimes wished when we were reading (WOAH FOUR WORD ALLITERATION!), that we could slow down just a tad so that the words could actually mean something, but more so because I wanted to comprehend what was going on. Shakespeare is not easy to read. When I read things, I tend to go back over sentences a lot because I hate missing out. Also because I think I have mild ADD.
Well. I leave you with this. Bit slow at first but picks up eventually.
Love,
Katie
Right now I am looking at my copies of "Tommy" and "A Fish Called Wanda" I bought for $9.99 each at Barnes & Noble with a gift card. I want to watch them right. now. Those movies are epic.
Just like Shakespeare! I am thrilled to start working on As You Like It because I have never attempted to act within this genre. It's like the 6 ft end of a swimming pool. I'm a pretty good swimmer but that doesn't mean it's OK to dive, especially when no lifeguards are on duty. This metaphor is so long. It could go on forever, really. "You can tread, but only for so long." "You can either sink or swim." "Goggles would help clear things up... maybe a snorkel to work on breathing technique" blah blah blah. But that's what literature connoisseurs want you to think. That Shakespeare is God's gift to the world -- like The Beatles of theatre or something. But I'll be honest, he is not my favorite. Which is not to say I don't appreciate his work or that I haven't read enough of it to really know what I'm talking about. I guess for me it boils down to this: the delivery of lines filled with beautiful metaphors that no real person could think up on the spot is all cool and fun and impressive and then it becomes... expected. I guess the actor's challenge is to avoid this. E'en so, old tricks lose their effect and next thing you know... OH GOD! She obviously doesn't know theatre. I don't pretend to. I just know what I like. And not all of it filters back to an Elizabethan mastermind. And thus, I shall not let myself be intimidated by this.
Onward.
I am not embarrassed to say it: I sometimes wished when we were reading (WOAH FOUR WORD ALLITERATION!), that we could slow down just a tad so that the words could actually mean something, but more so because I wanted to comprehend what was going on. Shakespeare is not easy to read. When I read things, I tend to go back over sentences a lot because I hate missing out. Also because I think I have mild ADD.
Well. I leave you with this. Bit slow at first but picks up eventually.
Love,
Katie
Friday, February 27, 2009
I had a jukebox graduate for a first mate
Bravo dear readers! Thursday's class was an inspiring one, as well as a great release. As said in class, this genre is intense and meaty but most exhausting. If I had to play Electra for an entire run, I think I'd incorporate a little bit of what everyone mentioned: breathing work, mental preparation, lots of sleep, maybe some therapy. And on that note, I am thrilled to start working with Shakespeare.
Enjoy your breaks kids.
Love,
Katie
Enjoy your breaks kids.
Love,
Katie
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
No Music Today
So... sorry to not have attended class today (especially for you, Michelle; what a horrible scene partner I am. Luckily, our scene is mostly monologues and eensy weensy bits of dialogue).
I spent much too much time studying for what amounted to be a laughable test. "Number 13, HA! obviously A ... number 14, pshh I mean really .... number 15, please! At least challenge me!" I woke up with a splitting headache feeling like I was about to vomit for...this?
Anyway, aside from staying up until 5am in a foggy stupor, staring at my laptop until my eyes bled, I received some rather disheartening news last night. My great uncle passed away. Before you say anything, my family agrees it was probably for the best. He suffered from Alzheimer's for a long time and was on the brink of setting up life in a nursing home. (Although Rosencrantz would disagree...living cooped up in a cell is probably better than living no life at all). But if you met my mother's side of the family, you would not think so. My Uncle George looked a little like Mr. Magoo with a quick wit and remarkable joviality-- but towards the end of his life, all of this went to pot. As with many sufferers of Alzheimer's, he lost himself. His body was there doing the best it could, but his mind was somewhere else.
My great aunt is supposedly handling things quite elegantly (although I believe it hasn't truly hit her yet). She is having everyone over for an intimate memorial service with lunch to follow. There will not be a wake because, as she puts it, "wakes are barbaric."
Love,
Katie
I spent much too much time studying for what amounted to be a laughable test. "Number 13, HA! obviously A ... number 14, pshh I mean really .... number 15, please! At least challenge me!" I woke up with a splitting headache feeling like I was about to vomit for...this?
Anyway, aside from staying up until 5am in a foggy stupor, staring at my laptop until my eyes bled, I received some rather disheartening news last night. My great uncle passed away. Before you say anything, my family agrees it was probably for the best. He suffered from Alzheimer's for a long time and was on the brink of setting up life in a nursing home. (Although Rosencrantz would disagree...living cooped up in a cell is probably better than living no life at all). But if you met my mother's side of the family, you would not think so. My Uncle George looked a little like Mr. Magoo with a quick wit and remarkable joviality-- but towards the end of his life, all of this went to pot. As with many sufferers of Alzheimer's, he lost himself. His body was there doing the best it could, but his mind was somewhere else.
My great aunt is supposedly handling things quite elegantly (although I believe it hasn't truly hit her yet). She is having everyone over for an intimate memorial service with lunch to follow. There will not be a wake because, as she puts it, "wakes are barbaric."
Love,
Katie
Sunday, February 22, 2009
...barely 17 and we were barely dressed
That was ironic.
Sorry friends, but this post will be puny and lame. This weekend was fun I guess. I do not want to get in the habit of going to bed at 5am every morning. Hilary's birthday rendezvous was very exciting. And very happy. I seemed to be surrounded by very happy humans. It was nice. Also nice to see sketch master flex Kareem; he's a good fellow. And I like writing in "see Spot run" sentences today.
The Oscars were ok. It seems to have become some sort of crappy Broadway show or even an attempt to compete with MTV style award shows. As I witnessed celebrity appearances such as Miley Cyrus, Jessica Biel (Spellcheck wanted to type "bile"), Zach Efron and that kid from Twilight, it dawned on me again (I had read up on this somewhere before) that the Oscars are trying to reach a new target audience: us. Apparently they have been desperate for viewers in the past couple of years and who better to target than kids who watch TV and love celebrity gossip? Furthermore, I was studying for Marketing this afternoon and read about how Generation X seems to be clinging to the unraveling threads of their younger years. People are refusing to accept the AARP/cheap movie tickets/moving to Florida-ness of being "old" and want to relate more with the entertainment/technology/bad-assness of Generation Y. Maybe they're sick of "tradition" and want SEX.
Anyway, good for them. Let them get down with their bad selves.
Love,
Katie
Sorry friends, but this post will be puny and lame. This weekend was fun I guess. I do not want to get in the habit of going to bed at 5am every morning. Hilary's birthday rendezvous was very exciting. And very happy. I seemed to be surrounded by very happy humans. It was nice. Also nice to see sketch master flex Kareem; he's a good fellow. And I like writing in "see Spot run" sentences today.
The Oscars were ok. It seems to have become some sort of crappy Broadway show or even an attempt to compete with MTV style award shows. As I witnessed celebrity appearances such as Miley Cyrus, Jessica Biel (Spellcheck wanted to type "bile"), Zach Efron and that kid from Twilight, it dawned on me again (I had read up on this somewhere before) that the Oscars are trying to reach a new target audience: us. Apparently they have been desperate for viewers in the past couple of years and who better to target than kids who watch TV and love celebrity gossip? Furthermore, I was studying for Marketing this afternoon and read about how Generation X seems to be clinging to the unraveling threads of their younger years. People are refusing to accept the AARP/cheap movie tickets/moving to Florida-ness of being "old" and want to relate more with the entertainment/technology/bad-assness of Generation Y. Maybe they're sick of "tradition" and want SEX.
Anyway, good for them. Let them get down with their bad selves.
Love,
Katie
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Cellophane, Mr. Cellophane
FULL THIRTY TIMES HATH PHOEBUS' CART--
Baker! What acoustics! What grandeur! Slightly less embarrassing than performing within the echo-inducing confines of a tub-- and so much more powerful. I overheard Michelle say that she "got it" when she was on stage. She had an epiphany of character and voice. That must feel good.
Baker! What acoustics! What grandeur! Slightly less embarrassing than performing within the echo-inducing confines of a tub-- and so much more powerful. I overheard Michelle say that she "got it" when she was on stage. She had an epiphany of character and voice. That must feel good.
Performing the sacrificial piece helped me discover more about the physicality and movement of this genre, however I wish I had memorized the entire thing so I wasn't second guessing my way through it. Also, I am that person who gets "called on" first. Always. In numerous aspects of life. I guess because the more it is written on your face that you'd prefer not to set the tone, the more Kashi will assume you'd LOVE to. Such is life.
This week is going to break me. I have two back-to-back exams, rehearsals, workshops, Electra memorizing, packing for break, elephan
t riding practice, roller discos, basket weaving.... just seeing if you were paying attention.
t riding practice, roller discos, basket weaving.... just seeing if you were paying attention. Love,
Katie
Katie
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Stop making your eyes at me, I'll stop making my eyes at you
Such a weird day. I woke up and finished studying for my exam. Ha! yeah right. I set my alarm for 9:30 but ended up sleeping an hour longer. "2 hours. That's all I need in order to ACE this shyte." Wrong. Not sure what I did to that test, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't what the professor had in mind. In between groggy studying and The Test, I witnessed an ethereal moment. I was sitting on the second floor of Rauch, my head filled with images of McDonald's taking over the world with their marketing strategy, when via my peripheral vision I witnessed the ever-twinkling fall of thick snowflakes-- and not any old snowflakes; snowflakes that snowed with a vengeance. (I know! This girl is crazy about snow!) It was a sight to be seen. I am a fan of temporary snowfalls-- now you see me, now you--
Electra. That vowel-picking-out exercise was very helpful. You know, there are some absolutely magnificent words that do not get enough tongue time. For example: punctilious, dulcet, eschew and felicitous. There are other words I do not like: nugget. Yes. Nugget is a terrible word.
I apologize that these entries of late have been so short. I am excited to attend class tomorrow-- I get to watch my friends perform their Grecian wonders.
Also, I am ready for Spring break.
-Katie Cakes
Electra. That vowel-picking-out exercise was very helpful. You know, there are some absolutely magnificent words that do not get enough tongue time. For example: punctilious, dulcet, eschew and felicitous. There are other words I do not like: nugget. Yes. Nugget is a terrible word.
I apologize that these entries of late have been so short. I am excited to attend class tomorrow-- I get to watch my friends perform their Grecian wonders.
Also, I am ready for Spring break.
-Katie Cakes
Sunday, February 15, 2009
I like that, I like that, Girl twirk that back
That's what I get for adhering to this ridiculous rule.
I have just been trying to get these God-forsaken scripts off my hands so that they can be used for more important things, like acting out the physicality of character and feeling up Tim and Justin. Electra is proving to be quite a feat, but I am confident in the fact that I have memorized nearly a third of my monologue. At the same token (tokens! R and G!), it needs to be speedier because we only have so much class time to work on other matters.
You know what's difficult? Trying to keep the audience interested in my lengthy monologue. I seem to have trouble altering the inflection and tone of my voice so that the interaction still remains a stimulating conversation. Speaking with restrained fury, but also striking Clytemnestra with my words so that she is frozen in space, seething with anger and the eagerness to counterpoint.
Wintertime was CRAZY. Oh, I knew what was going to happen, but it was still interesting to witness the stark contrast between it's puny, skeletal form at the play reading, to the hefty beast that it is now-- it put on so much meat along the way. I give a lot of credit to the actors for baring their bums and boobs and balls (pretty much). All in all, an entertaining night. Congratulations Kashi, Katherine, Michelle and Alex.
Love,
Katie
I have just been trying to get these God-forsaken scripts off my hands so that they can be used for more important things, like acting out the physicality of character and feeling up Tim and Justin. Electra is proving to be quite a feat, but I am confident in the fact that I have memorized nearly a third of my monologue. At the same token (tokens! R and G!), it needs to be speedier because we only have so much class time to work on other matters.
You know what's difficult? Trying to keep the audience interested in my lengthy monologue. I seem to have trouble altering the inflection and tone of my voice so that the interaction still remains a stimulating conversation. Speaking with restrained fury, but also striking Clytemnestra with my words so that she is frozen in space, seething with anger and the eagerness to counterpoint.
Wintertime was CRAZY. Oh, I knew what was going to happen, but it was still interesting to witness the stark contrast between it's puny, skeletal form at the play reading, to the hefty beast that it is now-- it put on so much meat along the way. I give a lot of credit to the actors for baring their bums and boobs and balls (pretty much). All in all, an entertaining night. Congratulations Kashi, Katherine, Michelle and Alex.
Love,
Katie
Friday, February 13, 2009
He said you're just as boring as everyone else
Class was a trip. As soon as Kashi flipped that light switch, I could feel it and I was there. Performing our scene for the first time was like breaking in a new baseball glove. It was stiff and rigid and unsure of it's purpose, but after a while I think it will expand and flex, giving way to new discoveries and opportunities. Lame metaphor, juicy class.
Thursday was Go Big or Go Home: The Acting Edition. P Styles, R & G class, R & G rehearsal. I added it up and I believe it was SEVEN hours of acting. Yeehaw. During those seven hours I was bound to learn something, and did I ever. I need to do some voice work if I want to nail down Electra as well as the Player in R & G. At the same time, I don't want to be too hard on myself since Thursday was a day of firsts. First time playing Electra, first time getting the Player on his feet, first time using my mid range voice. I may not be spot on these first couple of days, but I am very confident that by letting it stew in my mind for a while, I'll GIT IT. Getting those goddamn scripts out of my hands will do wonders. The sooner I memorize, the better.
This is... I mean, I don't even...?
Love,
Katie
Thursday was Go Big or Go Home: The Acting Edition. P Styles, R & G class, R & G rehearsal. I added it up and I believe it was SEVEN hours of acting. Yeehaw. During those seven hours I was bound to learn something, and did I ever. I need to do some voice work if I want to nail down Electra as well as the Player in R & G. At the same time, I don't want to be too hard on myself since Thursday was a day of firsts. First time playing Electra, first time getting the Player on his feet, first time using my mid range voice. I may not be spot on these first couple of days, but I am very confident that by letting it stew in my mind for a while, I'll GIT IT. Getting those goddamn scripts out of my hands will do wonders. The sooner I memorize, the better.
This is... I mean, I don't even...?
Love,
Katie
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Why don't you come on over, Valerie?
1) Warm. Sunny. "Budding tulips among the cigarette butts!" Warm. Holy hell I never thought I would appreciate the day as much as this. I was always a winter gal--something about parking yourself in a snow bank as a kid and taking in the silence the snow creates, no sound but the sway of the trees and the breath on your lips (I know. Snow is poetic. It's nothing new.)
2) Anyway, class yesterday. Nice way to begin my day, as usual. I hadn't gotten any sleep the night before-- I think it's because I downed a coffee and iced tea right before I went to bed (I see you judging me!) And so the longish warm up session was like sending an electric surge through my body like "who's ready to act?!" I AM. "Hey, whatcha doing, Katie?" Oh nothing, just waiting to take on a WILDEBEEST."
You'd think wildebeest would have the word "beast" in it, but there goes the English language again, fucking with your head.
3) The task of creating a Greek world seemed fun and a great way to utilize artistic license (I almost typed autistic). But then I guess personal issues came into the mix, and next thing you know the air is thick with passive aggression and middle school-ey whining. And I joined in as well--because that shit spreads like a virus--But it's supposed to be fun, people! We take each other too seriously. So once we cut the crap and focused on embodying the people of Ancient Greece, it was grand. It felt good to have Kashi walk into our world and approvingly observe our Acropolis-like environment and graceful movements.
4) Reading the text posed an interesting challenge (I felt like I had bronchitis after class). I believe an actor can grasp the intensity of the words without changing the pitch or volume of his or her voice. Take Sir Ian McKellen, for example. He is an accomplished Shakespearean actor and has successfully performed several monologues without screaming at the top of his lungs. But that intensity--that blistering energy and vigor is still there. I have to work on making it "bigger" without causing the audience to groan and say "wahh wahh." And that brings me to another point: a negative result of turning on the "acting voice" is that the words sound bland and repetitive, when really, there are so many fascinating things you can do to the audience and/or another actor with every line. These are real people who discussed problems that are still very much relevant to today's society; so I must learn to stray from stereotypical visions of the Greeks-- which merely constitute the shell of these characters-- and breath life into them so that they are real, heart-pumping organisms.
5) Look at this interesting adaptation of Electra, performed at MetroStage in DC. It's kind of Polaroid Stories-esque. Dunno what to think of it.
6) I am thrilled to take on the role of ELECTRA, Warrior Greek. Along with my bitch of mother CLYTEMNESTRA, played by Miss Beckerman.
Love,
Katie
2) Anyway, class yesterday. Nice way to begin my day, as usual. I hadn't gotten any sleep the night before-- I think it's because I downed a coffee and iced tea right before I went to bed (I see you judging me!) And so the longish warm up session was like sending an electric surge through my body like "who's ready to act?!" I AM. "Hey, whatcha doing, Katie?" Oh nothing, just waiting to take on a WILDEBEEST."
You'd think wildebeest would have the word "beast" in it, but there goes the English language again, fucking with your head.
3) The task of creating a Greek world seemed fun and a great way to utilize artistic license (I almost typed autistic). But then I guess personal issues came into the mix, and next thing you know the air is thick with passive aggression and middle school-ey whining. And I joined in as well--because that shit spreads like a virus--But it's supposed to be fun, people! We take each other too seriously. So once we cut the crap and focused on embodying the people of Ancient Greece, it was grand. It felt good to have Kashi walk into our world and approvingly observe our Acropolis-like environment and graceful movements.
4) Reading the text posed an interesting challenge (I felt like I had bronchitis after class). I believe an actor can grasp the intensity of the words without changing the pitch or volume of his or her voice. Take Sir Ian McKellen, for example. He is an accomplished Shakespearean actor and has successfully performed several monologues without screaming at the top of his lungs. But that intensity--that blistering energy and vigor is still there. I have to work on making it "bigger" without causing the audience to groan and say "wahh wahh." And that brings me to another point: a negative result of turning on the "acting voice" is that the words sound bland and repetitive, when really, there are so many fascinating things you can do to the audience and/or another actor with every line. These are real people who discussed problems that are still very much relevant to today's society; so I must learn to stray from stereotypical visions of the Greeks-- which merely constitute the shell of these characters-- and breath life into them so that they are real, heart-pumping organisms.
5) Look at this interesting adaptation of Electra, performed at MetroStage in DC. It's kind of Polaroid Stories-esque. Dunno what to think of it.
6) I am thrilled to take on the role of ELECTRA, Warrior Greek. Along with my bitch of mother CLYTEMNESTRA, played by Miss Beckerman.
Love,
Katie
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Don't let your mind get weary and confused
It's late. I should be in bed. My nose and fingers are freezing--basically any tiny extremity/appendage I have is cold. I am thoroughly exhausted and scared and confused as I have just attempted to trudge my way through the deep murky waters of job hunting. I wish I could be Bastian from The Neverending Story and take out my daddy-made PB&J sandwich, just a 5 minute break from my imaginary journey.
I don't know if I'm ready to enter the work force, the economy's shit, and it's too late to apply to Grad school- that would require GMATs and effort. I tell myself I will find something, I just need to accept that maybe it might not be what I want, at least initially-- and this is OK with me. Doesn't mean it's not mind-numbingly terrifying.
I had a very eventful weekend. Thursday night Tally Ho as per usual, Friday night apprentice showcase at Touchstone, and Saturday night wizard mayhem. Obviously.
The apprentice showcase was incredibly raw, albeit impressive. I wasn't particularly taken with the first one act, but was reassured by the refreshing cleverness of the second. It was a creative adaptation of the story of King Solomon, beautifully told by one apprentice-- I swear she had a voice like smooth, creamy chocolate milk (or something)-- and brilliantly acted by the rest of the apprenti, who silently danced their way through Solomon's journey and life lesson. The beautiful depictions of scenes and their transitions filled the gaps in my imagination perfectly so that props and set pieces would have been superfluous. I could give several examples, but there are too many to choose from and my descriptions would probably not do them justice.
The night went sour, though, when all four apprenti came out and sang "This Little Light of Mine" with the help of foot stomping and bongos. At one point, an actor came up into the audience and pulled a girl down to dance on stage with him. Eh. Stick to acting.
Hope you are having a good, satisfying slumber.
Love,
Katie
I don't know if I'm ready to enter the work force, the economy's shit, and it's too late to apply to Grad school- that would require GMATs and effort. I tell myself I will find something, I just need to accept that maybe it might not be what I want, at least initially-- and this is OK with me. Doesn't mean it's not mind-numbingly terrifying.
I had a very eventful weekend. Thursday night Tally Ho as per usual, Friday night apprentice showcase at Touchstone, and Saturday night wizard mayhem. Obviously.
The apprentice showcase was incredibly raw, albeit impressive. I wasn't particularly taken with the first one act, but was reassured by the refreshing cleverness of the second. It was a creative adaptation of the story of King Solomon, beautifully told by one apprentice-- I swear she had a voice like smooth, creamy chocolate milk (or something)-- and brilliantly acted by the rest of the apprenti, who silently danced their way through Solomon's journey and life lesson. The beautiful depictions of scenes and their transitions filled the gaps in my imagination perfectly so that props and set pieces would have been superfluous. I could give several examples, but there are too many to choose from and my descriptions would probably not do them justice.
The night went sour, though, when all four apprenti came out and sang "This Little Light of Mine" with the help of foot stomping and bongos. At one point, an actor came up into the audience and pulled a girl down to dance on stage with him. Eh. Stick to acting.
Hope you are having a good, satisfying slumber.
Love,
Katie
Thursday, February 5, 2009
We weren't supposed to make it past 25, the joke's on you we still alive
1) I went with Bess into the city to go to this crazy fundraiser/party/weird0 fest of performance artists/music artists/terrible artists (I would like to say, straight away, that this is in no way a dig at Bess, ya dig?). And so there we were, outside of this hole-in-the-wall Bulgarian bar (way cool, right? Yeah, if you like to either shoot up or get KNIFED without so much as a nod from the homeless guy across the street. Maybe it was the caution tape). Ok, it wasn't that bad (although apparently, I love parentheses, and now commas, too! I can't contain myself!). Bess and I gave it some time to breathe-- why not just let the woman wearing a one size too small corsette complete with homemade fortune cookie-carrying puppet arms be free to express herself? And that couple in the commencement gowns and clown noses? Go ahead! Run amok*! I'm a free spirit. Woooo! Then I slowly started to realize just how desperate these people were. Sure, I appreciate weirdness. In fact, I think weirdness is beautiful and I like to think I am fairly knowledgeable in the fields of experimental and conceptual art-- an avid supporter of self-expression and the freedom to create art wherever, whenever. I am not for an art that involves these so-called artists shoving their opinions in your face, like it's a fucking contest, or a way of saying "Look at me! Look at me! Aren't I avant-garde?!" Or think of it this way: high school all over again, except it's revenge of the outcasts. Conforming non-conformists. One day I hope to live in a world where people could truly care less about what others think, instead of just acting that way.
Sigh. I'm done, I swear.
*Spell check told me the correct spelling is amok, but it could also be spelled amuck, no? What do you think, dear reader?
2) Today's class was very insightful. My first reaction to the fact that we were going to read, together, that entire packet was not so pleasant. But after reading the first page, I thought there was no way it couldn't have been read aloud. It was very well written and well researched, without being pompous and "scholarly." Very real and honest. I am excited that these few weeks of the course will allow me to dust of the knowledge I gained from the Greek Archaeology course I took sophomore year. I did remember learning about kouros and kore and how pots and cups were so treasured and useful to the Greeks. Also, creating beautiful draped clothing transported me back to 1992 and the fabulous dress-up sessions I would partake in. Though it took me a dog's age to put mine together.
3) I think I have finally had a revelation about Mr. Tumnus. This person hsinqidd wpqfm ,o dsv, mlsv nwheks ldgks;flkl qp wjdmalsmd alfs ad;lg k;'sdgk;. HA! I have written it in code so that I am the only one who understands. Nice try.
Love,
Katie.
Sigh. I'm done, I swear.
*Spell check told me the correct spelling is amok, but it could also be spelled amuck, no? What do you think, dear reader?
2) Today's class was very insightful. My first reaction to the fact that we were going to read, together, that entire packet was not so pleasant. But after reading the first page, I thought there was no way it couldn't have been read aloud. It was very well written and well researched, without being pompous and "scholarly." Very real and honest. I am excited that these few weeks of the course will allow me to dust of the knowledge I gained from the Greek Archaeology course I took sophomore year. I did remember learning about kouros and kore and how pots and cups were so treasured and useful to the Greeks. Also, creating beautiful draped clothing transported me back to 1992 and the fabulous dress-up sessions I would partake in. Though it took me a dog's age to put mine together.
3) I think I have finally had a revelation about Mr. Tumnus. This person hsinqidd wpqfm ,o dsv, mlsv nwheks ldgks;flkl qp wjdmalsmd alfs ad;lg k;'sdgk;. HA! I have written it in code so that I am the only one who understands. Nice try.
Love,
Katie.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Help me, Rhonda
This weekend has been... glorious. On Friday night I was introduced to Porter's Pub in Easton and it felt fantastic. Venturing out of the Lehigh bubble did wonders for my soul. It was the kind of place where the crowd is completely different every night- which is probably a function of what type of live music they offer. Even so, everybody knows each other. We made friends rather quickly with a Easton native and her ride home. Her name was Jayme and she resembled a slightly younger Susan Sarandon who was three sheets to the wind. I turned to my friends and said, "You could write a play about this one."
I wrote down things she said:
I wrote down things she said:
- She used to work at an auto shop and was naturally around men all the time. Maybe that's why she cursed like a sailor.
- Traveled to Italy when she was younger. By herself. For weeks. TWICE. "Who do you share that with?"
- Upon seeing the Leaning Tower of Pisa for the first time: "It really...fucking...leans."
- "I've stayed in B & Bs where the cows come right up to the window"
- When we told her we were Lehigh students, she laughed and said "Crap! I used to walk my dogs at Lehigh and let them shit on the front lawn."
- Her friend bought her a mink as a divorce present.
- Upon drunkenly stumbling out the door: "I'm so fucking Irish."
- "I am who I am."
I liked her because she was interesting. I overheard a conversation about whether or not an "uninteresting" life would make a good subject for a play. I don't know. What I do know is that one "uninteresting" life could be the most exciting thing since sliced bread to another person. One man's junk is another man's treasure kind of thing. Anyway, it's particulars--some peculiar, some profound--that keep me interested.
Today's Superbowl Sunday. Go get it.
-Katie
Friday, January 30, 2009
My moon, the moon my man
Yet another delightfully surprising class on Thursday. Am I that surprised? No. Kashi has these wonderful tricks up her sleeve and pulls them out just in the nick (knick, knic, nic, fhqiefnc?) of time. I say that because just when you think the class is getting ordinary, it does a back flip over your expectations. BAM.
I noticed our decade defining lists mostly comprised of popular culture--the things people liked to do or the trends they liked to follow. I can't decide if this is a bad thing. It's amazing how America leads the way in these "eras." Or at least that's what we think. Somewhere in Transylvania, someone might have their own idea about what defines the '70s. "Ahh yes, remember vampires? And those OUTFITS! HA! Those were the days."
Decorating the house with Bess was a laugh and a half. Some genres were difficult to convey, while others simply fell into place. Being evangelical Christians was a toughy- I ended up questioning whether Jesus would approve of our fabric swatches. Then we were mobsters, perfectly set up as the "boss" and his bewildered nephew trying to please anything with legs. These exercises have tended to be my favorite, simply because it's improv and the possibilities are endless.
Trying to think of the ideal attractiveness and who exemplifies this led to pop culture again! (Except for Barack. You go Barack!) but who's to say politics hasn't merged with pop culture? Join the Red campaign. And Go Green! And what party supports these? And which candidate ate chicken wings last week? With the power of the internet and the world getting smaller and smaller, it's easier to spread large amounts of information, a lot of which is crap.
Our sexual gallavant was...uhh. 'nuff said.
It's interesting to explore what a different culture would consider attractive- i.e. elbows or eyebrows. I think we all just jumped to physical contact because it was easier. But what would flirting in the hopes of getting to touch elbows look like? The world may never know. (Maybe Transylvania?)
I am thrilled to start exploring the world of Electra. This is completely new for me, aside from my Freshman year in high school when we had to read some Greek stuff. ha. The fact I can't remember what we read is sad. BRING IT ON ELECTRA. I've been practicing my evil look. Although Justin told me the dimples throw it off. UNLESS THEY START SHOOTING LAZER BEAMS.
Observing Mr. Tumnus is going swimmingly. I'm probably at the same place I was at the last post.
Love you!
-Katie
I noticed our decade defining lists mostly comprised of popular culture--the things people liked to do or the trends they liked to follow. I can't decide if this is a bad thing. It's amazing how America leads the way in these "eras." Or at least that's what we think. Somewhere in Transylvania, someone might have their own idea about what defines the '70s. "Ahh yes, remember vampires? And those OUTFITS! HA! Those were the days."
Decorating the house with Bess was a laugh and a half. Some genres were difficult to convey, while others simply fell into place. Being evangelical Christians was a toughy- I ended up questioning whether Jesus would approve of our fabric swatches. Then we were mobsters, perfectly set up as the "boss" and his bewildered nephew trying to please anything with legs. These exercises have tended to be my favorite, simply because it's improv and the possibilities are endless.
Trying to think of the ideal attractiveness and who exemplifies this led to pop culture again! (Except for Barack. You go Barack!) but who's to say politics hasn't merged with pop culture? Join the Red campaign. And Go Green! And what party supports these? And which candidate ate chicken wings last week? With the power of the internet and the world getting smaller and smaller, it's easier to spread large amounts of information, a lot of which is crap.
Our sexual gallavant was...uhh. 'nuff said.
It's interesting to explore what a different culture would consider attractive- i.e. elbows or eyebrows. I think we all just jumped to physical contact because it was easier. But what would flirting in the hopes of getting to touch elbows look like? The world may never know. (Maybe Transylvania?)
I am thrilled to start exploring the world of Electra. This is completely new for me, aside from my Freshman year in high school when we had to read some Greek stuff. ha. The fact I can't remember what we read is sad. BRING IT ON ELECTRA. I've been practicing my evil look. Although Justin told me the dimples throw it off. UNLESS THEY START SHOOTING LAZER BEAMS.
Observing Mr. Tumnus is going swimmingly. I'm probably at the same place I was at the last post.
Love you!
-Katie
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Bite your tongue, all you get is a mouth full of blood
From now on, the title of my post will solely depend on the exact song lyric I hear at that moment. Think it might be interesting to see if anything ironic comes up-- or is spot on with the day's events.
It's funny... a lot of my childhood memories can be tied to music. You know "I'd Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That)" by Meatloaf? That song just came on and I swear I'm brought back to my Dad's old Stationwagon, sitting in the backseat in my coolots and Minnie Mouse shirt, dirty-knee-ed and rosy-cheeked, chewing the Bazooka Joe bubblegum (grape) he bought be at the Patterson Deli. It's crazy how music does that to you.
Today's class was most delightful. I don't think I performed the breathing/tension excersize to the best of my ability because I get real dizzy after taking numerous deep breaths. I guess I just need to space them out better. I would really like to keep doing it though- that final moment lying on the floor is so excellent.
The time exercises were interesting as well; some more difficult than others. I enjoy picturing these time periods, imagining what I would want to be like in the '50s or in the Paleolithic era (yes I had to look that up).
Culture creation is no easy task. I enjoyed what we were doing, but I wish I continued to build upon my spritely newlywed character* instead of giving in and blurting out a silly name for someone who is the "gatekeeper." It was a little Ghostbusters. However, the "yes, and..." instinct took over and it was fun as hell.
*Because that was a better challenge and might have helped me with acting. You know, the class we're taking.
Have I told you how much I actually hate Dave Matthews? LOATHE. I gave him a shot for a while. I thought, hey, he's got a huge following. He must be doing something right. No. His old man voice accompanied by stringy brassy instruments just came on and now I want to puke. "I drink too MUUUuuuuch... a'TOO MUCHHHH"
I digress. I thought the last activity was cut short! I wanted to continue acting like different nationalities/ehtnicities, pouring drinks and socializing with my cronies.
Cronies. In my last post, I wrote about an old crotchety couple who sat behind me during the performance at Touchstone. Before the show started, this geezer's wife is in the middle of a conversation. I catch this little treat that protrudes from her mouth:
"...some play with "crony" in the title. That's an old witch, right? I think that's what it was about, too."
Now, forgive me. I respect my elders just as my momma taught me. But. CRONE. That is a CRONE. A CRONE is what you meant.
Ok. blog. blog blog blog.
In other news, the following of Mr. Tumnus is going so-so. I hesitate to write too much about him/her. I can tell you I think it will be difficult to avoid imitation. There's a fine line between impersonations and acting. I want to start thinking and feeling like Tum-Tums; of course that may never happen, and even if it did, it would take some time. We'll see, dear reader.
-Katie
P.S. Listen to Metric. They are superb. This post is a cornucopia of music. ha. Cornucopia.
It's funny... a lot of my childhood memories can be tied to music. You know "I'd Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That)" by Meatloaf? That song just came on and I swear I'm brought back to my Dad's old Stationwagon, sitting in the backseat in my coolots and Minnie Mouse shirt, dirty-knee-ed and rosy-cheeked, chewing the Bazooka Joe bubblegum (grape) he bought be at the Patterson Deli. It's crazy how music does that to you.
Today's class was most delightful. I don't think I performed the breathing/tension excersize to the best of my ability because I get real dizzy after taking numerous deep breaths. I guess I just need to space them out better. I would really like to keep doing it though- that final moment lying on the floor is so excellent.
The time exercises were interesting as well; some more difficult than others. I enjoy picturing these time periods, imagining what I would want to be like in the '50s or in the Paleolithic era (yes I had to look that up).
Culture creation is no easy task. I enjoyed what we were doing, but I wish I continued to build upon my spritely newlywed character* instead of giving in and blurting out a silly name for someone who is the "gatekeeper." It was a little Ghostbusters. However, the "yes, and..." instinct took over and it was fun as hell.
*Because that was a better challenge and might have helped me with acting. You know, the class we're taking.
Have I told you how much I actually hate Dave Matthews? LOATHE. I gave him a shot for a while. I thought, hey, he's got a huge following. He must be doing something right. No. His old man voice accompanied by stringy brassy instruments just came on and now I want to puke. "I drink too MUUUuuuuch... a'TOO MUCHHHH"
I digress. I thought the last activity was cut short! I wanted to continue acting like different nationalities/ehtnicities, pouring drinks and socializing with my cronies.
Cronies. In my last post, I wrote about an old crotchety couple who sat behind me during the performance at Touchstone. Before the show started, this geezer's wife is in the middle of a conversation. I catch this little treat that protrudes from her mouth:
"...some play with "crony" in the title. That's an old witch, right? I think that's what it was about, too."
Now, forgive me. I respect my elders just as my momma taught me. But. CRONE. That is a CRONE. A CRONE is what you meant.
Ok. blog. blog blog blog.
In other news, the following of Mr. Tumnus is going so-so. I hesitate to write too much about him/her. I can tell you I think it will be difficult to avoid imitation. There's a fine line between impersonations and acting. I want to start thinking and feeling like Tum-Tums; of course that may never happen, and even if it did, it would take some time. We'll see, dear reader.
-Katie
P.S. Listen to Metric. They are superb. This post is a cornucopia of music. ha. Cornucopia.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Nasal Itching
Yikes. Sexy title, huh? But there is this ridiculous itch in my right nasal passage and no rubbing, digging, or nose-blowing will alleviate the annoyance.
Erm.
I saw The Eagle Has Landed: Audio Diaries of an Unlikely Traveler at Touchstone this weekend. It left me asking questions-- which, to some, is an indication of a successful play. Ehh I guess that depends on what the questions are. I wanted to know:
"Is Marvin completely satisfied with his life now that his journey has provided an appropriate closure for him?"
"What happened to the characters he met on his journey? Are they satisfied?"
"Did Julie eventually invest in a slip? Or perhaps some pants? Just proper sitting etiquette would suffice."
Throughout the entire play, I felt this weird feeling in my stomach. I can't quite define it. It wasn't a physical sickness, but more so an energy. I felt as if I was a part of the play and that everything that was happening to Marvin or Julie or Jonathan or the fat Texan, was also happening to me (I know, this sounds kind of naive and ridiculous). Maybe it's because we sat in the second row, and Touchstone theatre isn't exactly Royal Albert Hall-- but the intimacy and the proximity of the actors made me feel anxious and uncertain and excited and restless, all at the same time. It was an interesting feeling, but I'm not sure I could stand 2 and a half hours of that. Luckily the play had no intermission and ended just in time (I thought i might need to race to the ladies room for a little barf fest). ewww gross.
Anyway, I stayed for the talk back and really gained some insight into the world of Marvin and acting altogether. I liked what one of the actors said: "This show's kind of like baking a loaf of bread. After every batch of performances, it gets set aside for a while and grows and morphs into something a little bit different." I don't think forcing a change in performance is healthy, but leaving room for new things to bud and grow over time is an effective way to keep yourself and the audience engaged.
Moral of the story: Aside from the occasional "subtle" comment about the back of my chair interfering with the lower extremities of the crotchety old man behind me, the performance was enjoyable. And, afterwards, we were able to have a pint with the actors. Bonus. (Did you know Bridgeworks has a "Cheers"-like pub that's separated from the restaurant? The food's shit, but that little old bartender in suspenders and towel draped over his shoulder is worth it.)
-Katie
Erm.
I saw The Eagle Has Landed: Audio Diaries of an Unlikely Traveler at Touchstone this weekend. It left me asking questions-- which, to some, is an indication of a successful play. Ehh I guess that depends on what the questions are. I wanted to know:
"Is Marvin completely satisfied with his life now that his journey has provided an appropriate closure for him?"
"What happened to the characters he met on his journey? Are they satisfied?"
"Did Julie eventually invest in a slip? Or perhaps some pants? Just proper sitting etiquette would suffice."
Throughout the entire play, I felt this weird feeling in my stomach. I can't quite define it. It wasn't a physical sickness, but more so an energy. I felt as if I was a part of the play and that everything that was happening to Marvin or Julie or Jonathan or the fat Texan, was also happening to me (I know, this sounds kind of naive and ridiculous). Maybe it's because we sat in the second row, and Touchstone theatre isn't exactly Royal Albert Hall-- but the intimacy and the proximity of the actors made me feel anxious and uncertain and excited and restless, all at the same time. It was an interesting feeling, but I'm not sure I could stand 2 and a half hours of that. Luckily the play had no intermission and ended just in time (I thought i might need to race to the ladies room for a little barf fest). ewww gross.
Anyway, I stayed for the talk back and really gained some insight into the world of Marvin and acting altogether. I liked what one of the actors said: "This show's kind of like baking a loaf of bread. After every batch of performances, it gets set aside for a while and grows and morphs into something a little bit different." I don't think forcing a change in performance is healthy, but leaving room for new things to bud and grow over time is an effective way to keep yourself and the audience engaged.
Moral of the story: Aside from the occasional "subtle" comment about the back of my chair interfering with the lower extremities of the crotchety old man behind me, the performance was enjoyable. And, afterwards, we were able to have a pint with the actors. Bonus. (Did you know Bridgeworks has a "Cheers"-like pub that's separated from the restaurant? The food's shit, but that little old bartender in suspenders and towel draped over his shoulder is worth it.)
-Katie
Thursday, January 22, 2009
We All Live in a Yellow Submarine
So many things to discuss. So many.
Today's class involved much introspection. I enjoyed pinpointing everyone's style as well as the article of clothing that best defines him or her in my mind. It's so true that style speaks volumes about a person and that what we choose to display on our bodies is a deal breaker with regards to first impressions. I am comforted by the fact that you, dear readers, know me so well. At the same time, do you ever wonder what complete strangers think of us upon their initial perusal of our cotton exoskeletons? hum.
One of the most tubular tasks in acting involves understand the "me" before taking on the life and times of someone else. You never stop soul-searching (GROAN); but really, I think it helps us understand other human beings. Try that on for size.
OH! I am very excited about this stalking project. Like Katherine, I will name this person Mr. Tumnus. Because ol' Tummy isn't a boy OR girl, really, is he. Rather, he/she is a faun. I guess you could say male faun but... shut up.
I attended the 2nd playwright workshop today. I enjoyed it, except for how many times the woman made me produce an answer to one of her spacey questions within the span of 3.5 seconds. She was a little flighty. But I did enjoy putting the old pen to the paper. I love creative writing, and I actually wrote quite a bit when I attended Clark "hippie central" University, so I was interested in having a stab at this. I didn't share my little free write because my idea seemed way too cliche. But I did find a freaking awesome post card in the crazy woman's pile of treasures. I picked it up just because I liked the photograph. But when I sat down, I noticed there was a hand-written message on the back of it:
"I-love-you-so-much-I-could-break-all-your-bones"
God I love that.
-Katie
P.S. If I am ever in a band, we shall be called "The Acid Snowflakes." Global warming is gonna eat us alive. yeah yeah. Ice bergs are gonna raaaaaise the sea level. yeah yeah. Florida will be swimmin with the fishes. lalalaaaa
Ok, that's really not funny. I'm sorry. I think because I am getting sick, my brain is like a bowl of poop.
Today's class involved much introspection. I enjoyed pinpointing everyone's style as well as the article of clothing that best defines him or her in my mind. It's so true that style speaks volumes about a person and that what we choose to display on our bodies is a deal breaker with regards to first impressions. I am comforted by the fact that you, dear readers, know me so well. At the same time, do you ever wonder what complete strangers think of us upon their initial perusal of our cotton exoskeletons? hum.
One of the most tubular tasks in acting involves understand the "me" before taking on the life and times of someone else. You never stop soul-searching (GROAN); but really, I think it helps us understand other human beings. Try that on for size.
OH! I am very excited about this stalking project. Like Katherine, I will name this person Mr. Tumnus. Because ol' Tummy isn't a boy OR girl, really, is he. Rather, he/she is a faun. I guess you could say male faun but... shut up.
I attended the 2nd playwright workshop today. I enjoyed it, except for how many times the woman made me produce an answer to one of her spacey questions within the span of 3.5 seconds. She was a little flighty. But I did enjoy putting the old pen to the paper. I love creative writing, and I actually wrote quite a bit when I attended Clark "hippie central" University, so I was interested in having a stab at this. I didn't share my little free write because my idea seemed way too cliche. But I did find a freaking awesome post card in the crazy woman's pile of treasures. I picked it up just because I liked the photograph. But when I sat down, I noticed there was a hand-written message on the back of it:
"I-love-you-so-much-I-could-break-all-your-bones"
God I love that.
-Katie
P.S. If I am ever in a band, we shall be called "The Acid Snowflakes." Global warming is gonna eat us alive. yeah yeah. Ice bergs are gonna raaaaaise the sea level. yeah yeah. Florida will be swimmin with the fishes. lalalaaaa
Ok, that's really not funny. I'm sorry. I think because I am getting sick, my brain is like a bowl of poop.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
...Greatness is never a given. It must be earned.
I'll admit I would have forgotten about the inauguration if Kashi hadn't cancelled class for it (Go ahead. Look upon me in disdain! Have at you!). But as I was walking down from Lamberton, Michelle and I shared the same thought: "I am really glad I watched that."
I thought Generation Y had become this lump of indifferent zombies until I witnessed the way in which we whole-heartedly participated in this election. I feel so proud to have silenced the doubters-- those who always though of us as phone-texting, manners-inept, Rock Band-playing "kids." Yes, I am a kid. And believe me, there still exists apathy and laziness among my generation. But I am a kid who just helped change the face of America. And to all you folks who say "well, your vote doesn't really count," I say: my vote counts for me. You see it's not just about having the confidence and determination to cast your vote and spread the word. It's about having these things at all. For me, at least.
I digress.
(wow, I wasn't ready for the degree of deepness that last paragraph exuded)
Now I'm all distraught.
Oh.
In the meantime, check out this bad boy. I think I shall date him.
Love,
Katie
I thought Generation Y had become this lump of indifferent zombies until I witnessed the way in which we whole-heartedly participated in this election. I feel so proud to have silenced the doubters-- those who always though of us as phone-texting, manners-inept, Rock Band-playing "kids." Yes, I am a kid. And believe me, there still exists apathy and laziness among my generation. But I am a kid who just helped change the face of America. And to all you folks who say "well, your vote doesn't really count," I say: my vote counts for me. You see it's not just about having the confidence and determination to cast your vote and spread the word. It's about having these things at all. For me, at least.
I digress.
(wow, I wasn't ready for the degree of deepness that last paragraph exuded)
Now I'm all distraught.
Oh.
In the meantime, check out this bad boy. I think I shall date him.
Love,
Katie
Sunday, January 18, 2009
"That thought never ocurred to me..."
This shall be my short weekend blog entry and I shall name it short blog entry.
How lucky am I to see Hedda Gabler on Broadway. We performed scenes from the Ibsen great for Characterization in Realism (though I can say for myself that I did not do it justice). Mary Louise Parker played Hedda and it was a real treat to watch her work her stone cold demonic magic on stage. I patiently waited for the scene I performed and when it happened I had a "god! why didn't I think of that?!" moment. I mean that's why she's on Broadway and I am not/will not ever be, but it was still neato to see how committed an actor can be.
I noted the ease in which she graced the stage; her seemingly small character choices went unnoticed until the post-play discussion at a burger joint:
"Did you see her walk?"
"Her hands were so expressive."
"That was weird when lovborg stuck his hand up her dress." (yikes)
I think it's very telling about an actress when you can barely pinpoint the extent to which she transformed herself in order to "become" someone else. She made it look so easy. And although she might have been a more modern "hipper Hedda," all of her, from the tips of her fingers grazing the backs of chairs to the chilling conviction in her step, was Hedda Gabler.
I have more to say about this play, especially about the other characters, but right now I am being eye stabbed so I will go.
-Katie
How lucky am I to see Hedda Gabler on Broadway. We performed scenes from the Ibsen great for Characterization in Realism (though I can say for myself that I did not do it justice). Mary Louise Parker played Hedda and it was a real treat to watch her work her stone cold demonic magic on stage. I patiently waited for the scene I performed and when it happened I had a "god! why didn't I think of that?!" moment. I mean that's why she's on Broadway and I am not/will not ever be, but it was still neato to see how committed an actor can be.
I noted the ease in which she graced the stage; her seemingly small character choices went unnoticed until the post-play discussion at a burger joint:
"Did you see her walk?"
"Her hands were so expressive."
"That was weird when lovborg stuck his hand up her dress." (yikes)
I think it's very telling about an actress when you can barely pinpoint the extent to which she transformed herself in order to "become" someone else. She made it look so easy. And although she might have been a more modern "hipper Hedda," all of her, from the tips of her fingers grazing the backs of chairs to the chilling conviction in her step, was Hedda Gabler.
I have more to say about this play, especially about the other characters, but right now I am being eye stabbed so I will go.
-Katie
Thursday, January 15, 2009
How Fortuitous
Welcome to the [Comfort] Zone.
Presentational Styles is the twinkling dew on my morning grass. It is the start to my day and the first ten minutes of class will determine my mood for the hours that follow. I like that.
Do you want to know why?
Because (thus far) the people who make up the class pass around this little orb of light that gives you the feeling that's comparable to that of the little claymation child when he uses a Puffs Plus tissue as a remedy for his little pointy red nose. I enjoy the thought of these 2 hours waking my body up and putting me in a good mindset in order to face the rest of the day's challenges.
Breathing and touching and improvising, oh my!
Kashi's breathing technique was a nice little treat. I realized I breath a lot from the chest and hopefully vaccum lung practice will aid in my acting breathing. I'll admit the first time I did it, I felt like a dementor sucked the life right out of me. But alas, I was nowhere near Hogwarts. (itisn'trealitisn'trealitisn'treal). But the SECOND time I did it- that's when I reaped the benefits of the exercise.
On a serious note, I want to say that I truly enjoyed improvising today. I feel like I learn something completely new and exciting every time I partake in it. These activities trigger something in my brain that says "Quick! Relate to the scene!" and this trigger gets faster and faster the more I do improv... if that makes sense.
Kashi said something today that kind of stuck with me. As we were going around the circle, attempting to tell the story of the Three Little Pigs using different genres of....stuff, she said: "Don't think." Now, I have the tendency to overthink things-- just in general. Someone asks me a fairly simple question and I sift through the crap in my brain in order to produce the most valuable answer. But that's what everyone does, right? The problem is that I have a lot of crap* up there and it takes me, personally, a heck of a while to sift through all of it. Then I end up stumbling over my words and doubting myself and it's just a mess.
Moral of the story: I have a hard time just going with my first instinct; the thing that pushes its way to the front first. I'm working on it.
*When I say crap, I don't mean the full numerical definition of pi or the solution to a Rubik's Cube. I mean I absorb a lot of CRAP.
And now for something completely different...
Have you ever read Naked by David Sedaris? He is a gem and a half. I found something that might interest those who are involved with R & G... or just have a sense of humor.
"I received a copy of Shakespeare's collected plays...Reading the words made me feel dull and stupid, but speaking them made me feel powerful. I found it best to simply carry the book from room to room, occasionally skimming for fun words I might toss into my ever fragrant vocabulary. The dinner hour either became unbearable or excruciating, depending on my mood:
'Methinks, kind sir, most gentle lady, fellow siblings all, that this barnyard fowl be most tasty and succulent, having simmered in its own sweet juices for such a time as it might take the sun to pass, rosy and full-fingered, across the plum-colored sky for the course of a twilight hour...Hear me out, fine relations, and heed my words, for methinks it adventurous, and fanciful, too, to saddle mine fork with both fowl and carrot at the exact same time, the twin juices blending together in a delicate harmony which doth cajole and enliven mine tongue in a spirit of unbridled merriment!'
"I had the drama bug and Lois had a car...I called her the moment I learned the visiting actor had scheduled a production of Hamlet...We auditioned, and because we were the youngest and least experienced, Lois and I were assigned the roles of the traveling players Hamlet uses the bait his uncle Claudius...Our fellow cast members were in their twenties and thirties and had wet their feet in such long-running outdoor dramas such as The Lost Colony and Tender Is the Lamb...I worshiped these people. Lois slept with them. By the second week of rehearsal, she had abandonded Fortibras for Laertes, who, she claimed, had a "real way with the sword." Unlike me, she was embraced by the older crowd, attending late-night keg parties with Polonius and Ophelia and driving to the lake with the director while Gertrude and Rosencrantz made out in the backseat."
-Katie
Presentational Styles is the twinkling dew on my morning grass. It is the start to my day and the first ten minutes of class will determine my mood for the hours that follow. I like that.
Do you want to know why?
Because (thus far) the people who make up the class pass around this little orb of light that gives you the feeling that's comparable to that of the little claymation child when he uses a Puffs Plus tissue as a remedy for his little pointy red nose. I enjoy the thought of these 2 hours waking my body up and putting me in a good mindset in order to face the rest of the day's challenges.
Breathing and touching and improvising, oh my!
Kashi's breathing technique was a nice little treat. I realized I breath a lot from the chest and hopefully vaccum lung practice will aid in my acting breathing. I'll admit the first time I did it, I felt like a dementor sucked the life right out of me. But alas, I was nowhere near Hogwarts. (itisn'trealitisn'trealitisn'treal). But the SECOND time I did it- that's when I reaped the benefits of the exercise.
On a serious note, I want to say that I truly enjoyed improvising today. I feel like I learn something completely new and exciting every time I partake in it. These activities trigger something in my brain that says "Quick! Relate to the scene!" and this trigger gets faster and faster the more I do improv... if that makes sense.
Kashi said something today that kind of stuck with me. As we were going around the circle, attempting to tell the story of the Three Little Pigs using different genres of....stuff, she said: "Don't think." Now, I have the tendency to overthink things-- just in general. Someone asks me a fairly simple question and I sift through the crap in my brain in order to produce the most valuable answer. But that's what everyone does, right? The problem is that I have a lot of crap* up there and it takes me, personally, a heck of a while to sift through all of it. Then I end up stumbling over my words and doubting myself and it's just a mess.
Moral of the story: I have a hard time just going with my first instinct; the thing that pushes its way to the front first. I'm working on it.
*When I say crap, I don't mean the full numerical definition of pi or the solution to a Rubik's Cube. I mean I absorb a lot of CRAP.
And now for something completely different...
Have you ever read Naked by David Sedaris? He is a gem and a half. I found something that might interest those who are involved with R & G... or just have a sense of humor.
"I received a copy of Shakespeare's collected plays...Reading the words made me feel dull and stupid, but speaking them made me feel powerful. I found it best to simply carry the book from room to room, occasionally skimming for fun words I might toss into my ever fragrant vocabulary. The dinner hour either became unbearable or excruciating, depending on my mood:
'Methinks, kind sir, most gentle lady, fellow siblings all, that this barnyard fowl be most tasty and succulent, having simmered in its own sweet juices for such a time as it might take the sun to pass, rosy and full-fingered, across the plum-colored sky for the course of a twilight hour...Hear me out, fine relations, and heed my words, for methinks it adventurous, and fanciful, too, to saddle mine fork with both fowl and carrot at the exact same time, the twin juices blending together in a delicate harmony which doth cajole and enliven mine tongue in a spirit of unbridled merriment!'
"I had the drama bug and Lois had a car...I called her the moment I learned the visiting actor had scheduled a production of Hamlet...We auditioned, and because we were the youngest and least experienced, Lois and I were assigned the roles of the traveling players Hamlet uses the bait his uncle Claudius...Our fellow cast members were in their twenties and thirties and had wet their feet in such long-running outdoor dramas such as The Lost Colony and Tender Is the Lamb...I worshiped these people. Lois slept with them. By the second week of rehearsal, she had abandonded Fortibras for Laertes, who, she claimed, had a "real way with the sword." Unlike me, she was embraced by the older crowd, attending late-night keg parties with Polonius and Ophelia and driving to the lake with the director while Gertrude and Rosencrantz made out in the backseat."
-Katie
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
2009...WHEN I'LL BURN THIS PLACE DOWN TO THE GROUND
Do you ever get the feeling you're being watched?
It took a little while to delve into acting preparation today. The deathly hangover might have had something to do with it (I told myself birthday = drinking to the point of not being able to function without assistance). At the same time, I realize I'm still working on allowing myself to become fully immersed in activities that might make me look silly or weird. Don't get me wrong. I'll go for the laugh...but that's not always a good thing. So this class gives me the perfect opportunity to up that confidence level a bit. Dust off the old ego.
Would you look at the wonk on that guy.
It was good to explore words today. For instance, did you know "barf-around" was supposedly a slang term for "bad"? Um. No, 1950s acting exercise. I believe you are severely mistaken. Did you just mean barf? Because then that would be an acceptable term. Barf is never good.
I sometimes forget that words and phrases conjure certain obscure images in our minds that might not make sense to anyone else. Do you ever watch people think? It's interesting to imagine how their brain welcomes a word or phrase and then says "Come. Let's make the journey to your memory and we shall create a PowerPoint presentation of ideas so that you can select a clever and deliciously witty morsel that will be your response to this activity." I like being surrounded by these folks. They encourage me to fully utilize my brain.
So I implore you to keep shakin' what yo momma gave ya, classmates.
-Katie "are you gonna eat that?" Kozlowski
P.S. Did you know every time you sneeze, you experience an eighth of an orgasm. ONE EIGHTH.
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