labelleizzy: (Default)
Just had a massage focused on my hand/arm that's still healing up from our NYE car wreck. She started at my neck, chiseled some out of my shoulders and pectorals, went down my right arm and my biceps/triceps, the muscles that wrap around the elbow, the stuff in between the long radius and ulna, stretched the right places in my hand and wrist, gods bless her. Did a little under my shoulder blades which also helped.
So much better.
Now I want to have a day doing physical things.

heh

Jan. 22nd, 2015 01:15 pm
labelleizzy: (tea)
saw a woman with a travel mug today while having lunch with [livejournal.com profile] wrenb:

SHELTER
FOOD
WATER
COFFEE

(heh. I giggled)
labelleizzy: (bunny writer)
Dionysos grinned like a cat licking cream from its paws. Nobody else has seemed to notice that subtle little tag he has scratched into the wall beneath the lamp post at the home his parents have up in the Berkeley Hills. For those with eyes to see, it is an invitation. More than an invitation, it is a celebration. D can not wait to see the look on his siblings’ faces when everyone in the know shows up for the party.

Midway through the evening, Athena and Apollo start to notice people who they don’t recognize coming through the gate at the garden party, filtering through the more civilized throngs. More to the point, many of these people are dressed in not garden party kinds of clothes. They look like (Athena shudders delicately) BURNERS. There are boots and hiking sandals at the bottom, veils and scarves and ridiculous hats at the top, and a variety of fabrics intermingled in between: leather, lace, tulle tutus, sarongs, silk, satin, gears and fobs and monocles and OH DEAR the steampunks seem to have arrived as well (think of some of the things Delirium wears in the Sandman scenes of the Deathless, go research that later elephant elephant). These … PEOPLE are mobbing the bar and the waitstaff, eating all the canapes and drinking all the champagne cocktails and demanding more and more. Apollo glances at her, an eyebrow raised in well-bred horror. Artemis is leaned against a pillar with her champagne flute, amused as all get out. Of course she is dressed in such a way (elephant elephant) that a couple of women with … interesting and unnaturally colored hairstyles have come over to have a rather intense conversation and are offering to share the contents of a flask. Apollo would be jealous but he is more interested in feeling INVADED.
“Do you think we can get rid of these persons without causing a scene?” he demanded of Athena in a barely audible whisper.
“If it were MY party, I should say yes” whispered Athena, “but it is not MY party, it is Dionysos’s. I mean LOOK at them, they MUST be the people that go to his shows, and he MUST have invited them!”

Dionysos is wearing the faintest hint of a smirk behind his usual gold-tinged sunglasses, and the colored lights swing and flow all around him, moving with the beat of the music as he DJ’s and blends seamlessly from one song and rhythm to the next. Athena scowls in his general direction because while his music may not be her THING, family is family, and family TRIES to support one another. She knows that usually his face is Buddha-like, lost in concentration and a zen like flow state. He loses himself in the music, usually. All that needs to happen now is something like Dita showing up with an entourage…

“Well, if this isn’t where the party started, it sure is where the party is now?” Athena avoids putting her face in her palm in sheer awkward embarrassment, but it is a damn near thing.

Dita Cypress slinks into their yard, an arm around a gorgeous young man on one side and around a brilliantly laughing incandescent blonde on the other. She unwraps from the one to collect a flute of champagne, gives him a thought provoking kiss that he returns with interest before she turns him, pats his bum, and nudges him into the throng. Arm around the lovely laughing lady at her side, she quirks an eyebrow briefly at the three Olympians (middle aged? hrm how to describe them and I need a family name for Zeus’ direct descendants for this fic, middle generation? I do not know this yet elephant elephant elephant). quirks an eyebrow briefly and flashes a brilliant smile at the three of them before kissing the woman at her side with the same level of interest and focus as she had shown the young man a few moments before, and with a caress to the girl’s cheek and a wink, sends her off into the party as well. Dita waggles her fingers at the trio who really aren’t all that much older than she is, really she is NOT that much younger than they are, how scandalous how DARE she… and she heads toward the podium or dais where Dionysos is holding court or rather is being worshipped by a sea of bobbing, dancing and flailing bodies under the flashing flowing colorful lights.

Athena gestures to one of the waiters to bring her more champagne. She is going to need it.
labelleizzy: (bunny writer)
I've been thinking for the last few years, that attention is the rent we pay for being in relationship, for being in community.

It was never such a privilege to pay attention as it was, many years ago, when I was teaching high school reading and drama classes, and became the advisor for the Improv Comedy Club. Thinking back, I marvel at the quick wit and facility with ideas, language and expression that these teenagers had. How fluent and adaptable they were to performance situations where anything could change (and did) with the drop of a word or addition of a new gesture!

Nick was a wiry, nervous Italian looking kid, earnest and new to the Improv team, often half-a-beat late with his responses, or just this side of awkward, in its own kind of funny. Mariel was a comic genius, with a rounded buxom figure, huge brown eyes and an impressive range of physical expression, and she could also get really LOUD in all the good ways. Tawd was clever, almost effortlessly funny both onstage and off, and a deceptively mellow, slow voice. He's the reason I acquired a nickname among the drama classes, and I remember him fondly for that. Aliza was slim, sly, sarcastic, with a drawling kind of vocal delivery that could quicksilver turn to something manic and panicked if the character called for it. Lucas was tall, with what his friends teased him was "emo kid hair", at that gangly teenage stage where his every gesture seemed floppy, but he sure knew how to use that puppety-ness to his advantage, like a Tim Burton character. Brandon was short and compact. He had a deep voice that belied his small frame, and an onstage poise and speed on the uptake that was nothing short of marvellous. Adam was blond, almost with ringlets, and our tech guy when he wasn't onstage. He was ridiculously silly and ridiculously smart, and I still remember one skit where he was spontaneously, slowly, somersaulting around the stage for no apparent reason.

They were all, every one of them, hilarious, but Parker felt like the ringleader. That kid... well. Damn, that kid was a force to be reckoned with. Sandy sort of dishwater brown hair (and I'm not just saying that because he had a positive TALENT for pissing me off), a nondescript sort of everyman face, and sleepy-looking hooded eyes, he was an absolute fucking chameleon onstage, with a rubber face and a skill at vocal characterization that reminded me of the young Jimmy Stewart. He's the one who I remember (with Mariel and Tawd) as starting the club and teaching the other kids all the improv games. He had a very strong personality, and he pushed hard to get the team members to practice all the different kinds of games and to get them in shape for competitive Improv Comedy events with other schools.

Parker was so funny and occasionally so bizarre... I remember how impressed I was with how much he knew about comedy and improvisation. I was brand new to the drama gig, and I don't mind at all saying that I learned virtually everything I know about improv and theater games from these kids. From Highway Patrol to New Choice, tongue-twisters and physical warmups, their speed and sarcasm and joy and silliness just delighted me. I would watch from the audience space and sometimes grade papers as they worked and played and tried new things, always new things, even with the old games they all knew well.

Building characters and scenes with zero stage props or maybe only hats or scarves or a couple of chairs from the audience is what made me think of them when I saw this week's prompt. These kids? I could imagine them EASILY getting a "confession from the chair." You'd be laughing at the one-sided conversation, imagining the chair's responses, and then cheering as the chair is dragged offstage. Of course, there'd be implications that a well-deserved beat-down will happen once the chair is in lockup.

It was a privilege to pay the rent there, to be on the sidelines watching the worldbuilding these kids could do in the blink of an eye. I got no call to be proud of them, I didn't teach them anything. They did it all themselves, but I'm proud of them nevertheless. It was a pleasure to know them.

I hope they are all still finding joy in words and connection and their own quick minds, making creative and subversive things in the world, and messing with people's heads.


This has been my entry for [livejournal.com profile] therealljidol . This week's prompt was, as I mentioned, "Confession from the Chair."

Here is a link to one place you can find short descriptions of improv comedy games, you can also google "theater games" or improv games if you would be interested in learning more. Also I recommend comedysportz san jose as an example of improv comedy as a hell of a lot of fun for an evening's entertainment. (hmmm, I need to get out and see that again sometime soon!)
labelleizzy: (gaia)
After weeks and weeks of waiting...


...my compost is now DIRT.

and now (*insert evil laugh here*), now, I PLANT VEGETABLES, my children!!!

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