Sunday, February 15, 2009

Wintry Rust

Out of all of the individuals reading this blog (and do tell why I've had a significant upswing in how many people are reading this, yet none of you are saying hello...) I've probably spent the most time outside, out of all of us (I don't think that is an exaggeration - three days a week in winter working as a door-to-door fundraiser in all kinds of weather allows me to take that statement, I think) You see all those snowstorms and wind chills in Toronto? I've worked in every single one of them, without fail (it would take a severe weather day, specifically a wind chill of minus thirty degrees celsius, for us to call a shift) I've been cold all winter, and my body took a lot of punishment during this season (this season which is soon to pass) In New York, upon the day I arrived, it was fourteen degrees celsius, and it truly was a helpful thing, for I returned to this city in sunshine, and I realized that the tone in the air had changed (Yes, tone is something that isn't measured by the weather network, though it should be) The sun was shining, and there was blue sky (and rarely when I was outside did I see blue sky, in this season of winter) But it was more the way my body felt, and this assurance that no matter the snow or the chills to come, we are now officially in upswing - there is a lot more daylight, and we are no longer marching towards a long cold winter, but to a warm, promising springtime. Everyone talks about it on some level or another, and poets write of it, and singers compose songs, so I won't indulge in such a narrative about new beginnings, and all of the auxiliary cliches that come with it. No, I'll just say that the wintry rust I had is shaking off, and my body is suddenly in rapid evolution, and my stamina is increasing (I am no longer simply preparing for a show, but other things of a more violent, and artistic nature) I noticed my clothes are starting to fit the way I wish them to, and my body language is far more expressive, because I am no longer shivering, or simply focusing upon surviving winter (and trust, being outside so much can bury you long into springtime if you're not careful) I don't exactly feel like a corpse, though, and though I'm tempted to turn on that new camera of mine and shoot these publicity photographs for my show tonight, I'll wait a few more days, because in a few more days I will be a lot more delicious, in narrative and body. Tariq in New York, upon viewing a workshop/stop and start/rehearsal of my show, said to me simply 'This is your 'A Love Supreme' (which was as good of a compliment as the 'That was like watching Henry Miller on a bed' comment of the past) It's true, my show structure has evolved, and I've stripped a lot of it away (A very good sign when you have great material, and choose not to use it, because it simply does not fit - those narratives will be performed another time) The narrative is now in four sections - three principal narratives (the middle 'Sam' compelling me to memorize thousands of words in staccato order while maintaining the wild in the physical - good luck with that one, buddy) and a coda of song. It's a shorter work, but the 35-40 minutes I am in that bed, will feel a lot longer, to myself, and to the audience. New York was amazing because it not only reset my body, but it made me appreciate the urgency to get back here as soon as I could, and take the meditation to a higher level (which, today, I truly have, and will continue to do so) I can't wait to get back to my practical job now, upon the 25th, because unlike before, we will be rapidly approaching springtime, and I won't have to worry about surviving winter, but preparing for spring, the narrative (and you, even)

The rust, quite simply, is gone.