Why Not?

A couple weeks have flown by, overflowing with all kinds of "new" 's and not near enough "zzz" 's. But I've just made my first batch of cookies in far too long, and this seems the perfect point to catch up.

Starting from now and moving backwards...

I'm currently just over half way into a two week Grotowski intensive. For those theatre nuts out there, you'll have an inkling of what this is all about. Jerzy Grotowski is a crazy Polish dude who created a new theatre movement, starting in the 70's but breaking into the forefront in '89 with the collapse of Communism. So we're talking pent up emotions coming out of not being allowed to express yourself. Just to set up the scene for you. Jerzy had the idea in his brain to connect with the physical possibilities in theatre, as opposed to solely text, and went to town on gestures and metaphors. There is a lot of inspiration coming out of Polish folk history and tradition, and in our particular circumstance, Greek vases. We're working on a sort of mish mosh telling of the Orestia (old Greek play series, written by Euripedes, dealing with adultery, matricide, war, oracles from the gods, and teenage angst. Among other things. Just so you're on the same page). Not only have we developed an "alphabet" based on some of the findings on these old vases and urns and wall hangings, but we're also learning recreations of what the old greek songs may have sounded like. (does that sound vague? cuz it should) And just incase the singing and gesturing doesn't sound interesting enough, we've also added some acrobatics. The result of all of this is an incredibly intense work environment wherein there is so much sweat on bodies/walls/floors that you stop being self conscious and just try not to slip. We had two people home sick today, one other guy just observed as his back is out, one rush to the hospital with a dislocated shoulder, and as the first injury of the session, I was dropped on my face last week. Directly. On my face.

For those of you gasping in horror and distress, don't worry, I'm fine. I didn't even get a black eye. (bummer, eh?)

So continuing backwards, this weekend (as a consequence of both the ridiculous week I'd had and the fact that I hadn't given myself a day off since I MOVED HERE) I slept. Yep, that's pretty much it. My flatmate knocked on my door at almost 1pm on Saturday, just to check I was still alive.

Last week I saw some rad theatre, some really not rad theatre, and had a crazy Greek experience. (the Greek theme has come up quite often in the past 10 days, perhaps the universe is hinting that I should take a trip to Greece?) It was the birthday of one of the girls in my class, so we booked an 18 seater table for dinner at a cute little Greek restaurant. Surprise surprise, the loud theatre group took over the joint. (it didn't really look like anyone else tried to come in, but they were probably able to hear us outside the restaurant on the street and wisely chose to go elsewhere) About 2 hours in, the little Greek owner brought in a piece of cake and demanded we sang. Which we did without hesitation. He then informed us that he had a friend who played bagpipes who just happened to be here and would play us two songs. Which he (the friend) did before being told by the owner to shut up. The owner then announced that he would dance for us. About an hour later, after being led in our own personal "how to dance like a little old Greek man" lesson, we were treated to "American pop music" featuring the likes of Abba, Kylie Monogue, and Robbie Williams. The macarena was in there too. (none of those groups are American... facetiousness and sarcasm seem to really not translate without vocal tone...) We danced our faces off all the same.

To the weekend preceding all this. I went up to Balloch with a couple pals. Balloch is a town just on the edge of Loch Lomond, with gorgeous walking paths. We had beautiful sunshine and leaves to roll in. Totally beautiful. Like this country. Ya know, when you're not stuck in a city or whatever.

And before all of that, as well as the inspiration for the title of this post, De Castro. A little lady clown from Brazil who has a body in the shape of the number 8 (due to a pretty heavy duty belt) and a love to laugh. This woman captivated our class for the first hour of our day all week. She played tag with us, and giant/wizards/trolls (which I totally have to teach you - think rock/paper/scissors but with your body and in a group!), and led us in laughter yoga. She described to us how she stumbled into this career because of simply doing it "for the fun of it." And that has kept her going ever since. She has founded a company called Why Not Inc.

And when all is said and done, and you really stop to think about it, why not?

This should have been about three posts. If you read this far, 5 gold stars for you. Unless you're my mom or dad, because it's expected and they are already paid for always in the joy of having me as a daughter.

PS - people actually think free style rapping is one of my skills. and they refer to me as a ninja on a more frequent occasion than I thought possible. my awesomeness grows...