Christine's blog

I've had several impulses to blog about Trickster (and having to miss all of December's rehearsal process to be in Taiwan for my grandfather taking ill and passing) and Iphigenia...(a rave fable) now in rehearsals but I didn't do anything and now my brain is clogged with a tangle of ideas. 

So I'll just start with what's going on right now: I'm overwhelmed. Tony mentioned after rehearsal yesterday and today that I looked like my brain exploded and it's a possibility. Iphigenia crash lands on the neon shell that was once her heart (a rave fable) is a lot. And I'm processing. Or desperately trying to. I really, really want to do justice to this character but I don't even understand the rough edges of her let alone have my lines down. And tomorrow starts Week 3 of our Trickster run and while I'm excited to see our motley family again and fly Swan Woman's wings, it's a hard gear shift. And I have an audition in the morning on ear prompter. And it's 2AM. And I got a ticket for having a cracked windshield - what the - ? And...and...and...

I'm overwhelmed. Iphigenia says, "Every part of me is breaking. But I'm alright." And right now, Christine is alright, but she hasn't really tackled the "every part of me is breaking" yet. I'm emotionally on the edge of the swimming pool that is Iphigenia. I'm testing the water's temperature and trying to get a sense of the depth and overall shape. But it's a big formless pool that looks really deep. And I don't have time to figure everything out from the water's edge. 

I suspect that she will cost me emotionally, not in a "I'm gonna go crazy" kind of way but in a "open up your bags of sh*t and roll around in it" kind of way.

Am I ready to find out what "every part of me is breaking" feels like?

Am I ready to merge with the girl who hears the screams of the fresa girls of Juarez and trips acid with Achilles? 

Am I ready to fight the destiny of Death for a chance at Love and self-actualization?

When I dive in, will I be able to make sense - or more importantly Story- of it all?

Perhaps like Iphigenia, I don't have a choice of what happens or when. The show must go on: February 17th or 28daysfromnowholymolyBatman! ...

But I think writing some of these questions out has helped me realize that you don't have to feel ready to be ready. You won't know until you try. You can't win if you don't play. And with that...I am done with standing on the edge.

My heart is racing while sitting at my kitchen table thinking about becoming one with Iphigenia. I can hear the wind blowing around my ears looking over the cliff. A voice whispers, "It should be fun" and I realize it's my own. I take Iphigenia's hand and push away from the dirt under my feet. We are falling and "my slip became yours, and our legs became one."

Pulse. Pulse. I go.

We had our first rehearsal for the love/sex scene between the Swan Woman and Coyote tonight. It's only about a page long but warranted an hour of rehearsal time.

When I was stretching and going over my lines, questions like "what are we going to do for a whole hour?" and "am I forgetting about another scene we have?" floated around my head. And suddenly the thought "we're getting naked today" interrupted. Disguising my panic and desperately trying to remember what underwear I was wearing, I asked Scott Allen Luke (Coyote) nonchalantly, "Are we getting naked today?" He furrowed his brow and replied, "mm, don't think so." My fears were not assuaged. 

It's so very uncomfortable to consider getting naked, even in rehearsal. I mean, it's personal. It's awkward. It's our bodies - they'd be touching - they aren't plastic figures, you know; they're bodies...and well, bodies secrete things - things get icky! And the potential ickiness weirds me out! The very real icky imperfections of our bodies actually touching each other?!...SIGH.

Needless to say my awkward sense of humor - which slays any sort of delicate mood - kicked into high gear and inappropriate jokes. I tried to control it as best I could and stay focused, but I was stressed and skittish. Supposedly women's dirty humor is dirtier than men's because it's a little too graphic in a clinical kind of way. And that's probably true; I asked if Swan Woman's orgasm should be honking. And I just wrote that bodies secrete things and get icky.

Everyone in the room (just Sara - SM, Tony - director, and Scott - Coyote) was really nice and patient, but I wonder what exactly DO I need to feel comfortable to get naked. (Even if we don't use it during the show, Tony would like to get there during rehearsals.) Honestly, I dunno. And I'm not sure if thinking about it helps.

Fortunately, pretending is a significant enough task for a first rehearsal...and what I focused on today. It's big to really feel the intimacy and joy and desire of consummating true love in our play's imaginary circumstances. It takes time to get comfortable with that risky emotional journey...and in the meantime, I'm awkward and loudly announce when I take off my socks.

On a positive note, I was pleasantly surprised by how vulnerable and trusting I felt in Coyote's arms. It seems vulnerability is a different kind of nakedness: of the heart and soul. It's a gift to the people watching and also a gift that costs something. Tonight I felt discomfort at being emotionally intimate and aroused in front of (and with!) pals. A shudder of pleasure is easier than being in my underwear but it's not free or easy. 

What am I trying to say? I'm all over the place because I'm uncomfortable. A friend and actor I just love to watch said that he hates, HATES, being vulnerable...but will do it on stage. He hates it in real life but is willing to be vulnerable on stage to be good. And that resonated with me tonight. It goes right along with what Alexandra Billings (my personal hero) said during SteppWest this summer. She demanded of us as actors to bring our bags of shit on stage, open those bags, roll around in our shit, and stand up for everyone to see. Anything less was unacceptable and "Keep going forward into that shit!" became our joyful battle cry and motto.

So the question is "Am I that brave?" I know it's good to be brave enough to be naked emotionally and physically but can I do it?

I eventually took off my outer shirt - leaving my tank top AND pants. For a few moments, I opened my heart to Scott/Coyote and imagined my happiness at being post-coital (and naked) with the greatest love of my entire existence. 

It was a good start...but I suspect there's more nakedness to be explored. I remind myself that what's wonderful about life is not the beauty of perfection but the grace of humanity - how vulnerability and hope and openness exist despite our imperfection: when you're loved despite purposefully awkward jokes.

So. I know what I have to do. And with an unnecessary eye roll and my heart on my sleeve, I put one foot in front of the other and "keep going forward into that shit!"

I meant to write this blog entry 3 weeks ago after the Trickster read-through, but Life took over between Stir-Friday Night's 15-year anniversary revue Bubble Tea Party! (Happy quinceañera, SFN!") and being in a wedding (Congrats, Stephanie & Jason!) and well, you know how Life gets. 

I'll start by saying that I had some "concerns" after read-through Tuesday: over 140 pages (with several scenes still missing), a HUGE cast of puppet-humans and Animal-spirit people, BIG questions about human suffering and our natural bent towards destruction, AND Swan Woman has an orgasm while naked. I mean, I hope I'm not getting type-cast as "actress who orgasms." Just kidding, it's the naked part that stresses me out. 

Anyway I realized even as I was airing out my "concerns" to Tony (who very patiently listened to all of them), that this is a fantastic opportunity to be open while on this adventure of a play rehearsal process. And do I really have a choice? The script is going through edits, ideas are still be discovered, characters and relationships developed - in short, there's absolutely NO WAY we're going to know all the answers about the final product until we get there. You aren't going to know what it's like to cliff-dive into the ocean until you do it. 

Fortunately, my fellow pioneers are pretty cool. I know many of them or at least have seen their work and I'm excited. Take, for instance, my Older Swan Brother (Riso Straley) who improvised his swan song to include "shitting on your lawn" and "pecking your eyes out, muthafuckah!" I can only hope to one day be as awesome as that. 

So I'm diving in. It seems to be the theme for the year: dive in & be open; be open & dive in. I'm jumping into new working relationships and rehearsal processes as well as re-examining my own tendencies and vices. I'm also trying to check in with myself more often; been through a lot of change this year - tackled acting in my bra AND a Japanese-British accent, the still bewilderingly beautiful experience of Steppenwolf West, and breaking up with my boyfriend of three and a half years. The aftershocks continue to roll through. 

There are many, many shades of gray between black and white. It's less convenient and straightforward to live between right and wrong but somehow also more comfortingly authentic. And it sure beats checking out. So plug your nose and join me off the edge of the cliff - it's time to dive in.