Two days! wow! it feels like two weeks, again, since I last posted…

So I paid for my Saturday night insomnia by waking up late on Sunday (after finally getting to sleep at like 6am) and not having time to stretch properly before soccer…and whaddya know, in the fourth 7-minute game, I pull a muscle in my right thigh. I was having a blast playing soccer, too, and I had been looking forward to Sunday’s unusual schedule, and the pain, surprise and disappointment conspired to make me a grumpy Alissa for most of Sunday. We’ve been working on individual Etudes, which we presented on Sunday night–those all seemed oddly incomplete. We’re continuing to work on them, but I’m just not sure where to take mine, and I’m starting to not like working on it. Well.

Yesterday we also started learning a new matial art–not sure how it’s spelled. Arnice? It’s a Phillipine knife-fighting style, which is super fun.

This morning’s run was rough on me, because of my injured thigh. I had to take it really slow, learn to find a way to run that didn’t hurt my leg, and I got immensely frustrated knowing that I would be capable of running faster and farther but instead had to lag behind the whole group, doing a third of the run that they did and running largely alone (but with Carlos’s patient tutelage and support re: how not to exacerbate my injury.) At this point in the morning, my injury, lack of sleep, and utter frustration in working on my piece contributed to a total breakdown in this morning’s training. We were working with our etudes, exploring them with partners, and I felt like I didn’t have any ideas or strength or bravery or even desire to work. Matthew kept trying to get me to explode, to make fireballs of energy and push them into my work, but by that point I was spending most of my energy just holding back tears. I worked in a half-assed way for a while, then realized how much work it was to not cry, so I let it go and sobbed, which freed up a ton of energy for working on the balancing beam and the aerial silk that are part of my piece. I cried and worked for the rest of training, unable and not even trying any more to stop, working on using my emotion to fuel the work I was doing. Sometimes it worked; but I’m sorry to say that most of it was just a slog, and I was relieved when training finally ended. I was happy that the people around me noted that I was crying, saw that I was still working, and didn’t make a big deal out of my tears; Matthew said a few things to me afterward about how it doesn’t have to get in my way, which I heard with weariness. This place is one of the biggest challenges I’ve ever encountered.

I must go to bed soon–it’s two–but the other stuff we did today: more music, more Tae Kwan Doe (which is getting really really fun, and was the thing today that put me back in a good mood; plus it seemed to help my leg, which is more healed now than it was) and the evening training, which was long and hard today. It started out fine, but I quickly ran out of life force for pushing myself into new freedoms. I fell into a pattern of joining groups and simply mimicking whatever was happening, which was mostly boring and sweaty and disappointing. I think I wasn’t the only one, though, because Matthew gave the group a talking-to tonight about taking responsibility for making our own energy, for claiming autonomy, for (I like this one) fooling ourselves into being free, which he claims gets harder, not easier, as we continue to do the training.

We also have myriad assignments now; to keep lists of good moments in training, to formulate questions to have in mind before entering the training, to watch a particular movie out in the pavilion, the reread the text we’re working on, to practice the song we’re learning in music. My despairing mind says “But!–” But we work from ten in the morning until one o’ clock at night, with three 30-90 minute breaks that are mostly consumed with eating, cleaning, and tending to our sore muscles and blisters, and a little bit of relaxing. If you wonder why my blogging has gotten more sporadic…

sigh. You can tell that I’m tired and a little overwhelmed today. What made sense about the training to me a few days ago seems hazy again. What are we but a bunch of adults acting goofy in a room together? Oh, why did I choose theatre?

‘Kay, enough whining. Like I said…big challenge. But at least I’m high on endorphins most of the time here. And the martial arts stuff is pure physical joy; nothing ambiguous about it, just do the move. Do it this way. Try again, harder. I think they throw that stuff in there just to keep us balanced.

Love and frustration from a girl who needs to go to bed! Whee!
Alissa