Fewer breaks for blogging today, and so much to write that I can’t possibly squeeze it all in. I woke up this morning more sore in more places than I have EVER been in my life. First thing we do–another run. The last one was painful; this one was almost impossible. I thought I might vomit or cry, but thankfully did neither. Learned two important things from this crazy theatre: Every step goes up, not down, and goofing around, doing crazy things with your arms, and singing all helps the running. We sang in the forest halfway through, ducking under branches and crossing a stream. It’s pretty beautiful here.

Learning a new, super-complex song in music; today I cooked dinner under the watchful eye of one of the company members; we had some time to do individual work, and I took a walk and wrote some (the sun came out today at last) and then, of course, the nightly training session, which I’ve just gotten out of.

I haven’t described these sessions yet. They are sort of the most “theatery” thing that we’ve done here so far, but they are as physically intense as the running, just in more parts of the body. We have them every night, and they go between 3-4 hours. They’re conducted in a follow-the-leader sort of fashion so far; we begin by doing something strenuous over and over, like jumping on one foot with our arms over our heads until the point when it feels like death or collapse is imminent. This will gradually evolve into a long group improvisation, using pieces of the movement vocabulary we started with; Sunday’s focused on legs (LOTS of jumping) last night’s was about arms (holding arms up, out, moving them in very fast circles; no rest for a LOOONG time, till your muscles are screaming); and tonight seemed focused on abs (lying on our back, popping torso and legs up simultaneously, holding them there and waving our arms till the burn is explosive.) Groups will splinter off, relate to other groups in an aggressive or meek or flirtatious or wondering way. Little stories emerge. It’s a little like viewpoints, but with lots more sweating. Everyone here is totally focused in the studio, and it’s easy to throw yourself in to even the goofiest parts of the work.

One of the things I can’t remember if I’ve written about or not; the group avoids talking in the Space. If something can be communicated nonverbally, it will be. They hold their training places as sacred, and maintain them meticulously; the floors are clean, the stuff is organized and has its place, and god save the forgetful student who should leave their water bottle behind. I’ve encountered this attitude before, and the Farm is so beautiful I can’t help but admit that it seems to be working. But then–isn’t there something to be gained by means of a certain familiarity, too? The most treasured members of my family are ones who I know will forgive me for a minor lapse in courtesy, and who I won’t hold to any formal code of conduct; can’t a tiny little bit of taking for granted make for a little more intimacy? But certainly, there should be respect and care…maybe that’s all it is. I’m just leery of rules, I guess. I’ll see what happens when I really see the space in action, when we’re in rehearsal instead of training. That’s when it’ll become clearer what this attitude is about.

All right, others are clamoring for the computer! I’m not even going to proofread this, just hit publish…g’night!