It's really frustrating that theatre suffers so much in Canada, a nation BRIMMING with artists. It's extremely tempting to say that Canadian drama just isn't as good as British or American drama, but this might just be a flawed perspective. Really, I don't have much perspective on it. It just seems like the Canadian plays I've read are good, but they're still missing something overall. I don't know if this is true or not, but it's hard to shake that off, either way. Maybe it's the reluctance to look at them in a better light because they haven't been produced abroad. Like the only way we can be sure if a play is good is if the outside world--that is, NOT Canadians, will love it and accept it and produce it in their theatres. That way it's not just our bias toward Canada-ness, but the actual quality of the piece stands up on its own, without our support. And our homegrown drama is still very young, since it only really took off in the 60's. And we didn't have the wonderful combination of actors, acting teachers and bright and talented directors and writers to galvanize our theatre at the right time and the right place like the kind that America saw in the 40's and 50's with the likes of Strasberg, Stella Adler, Marlon Brando, Elia Kazan, Tennessee Williams. We've a ways to go yet.

I've been checking my e-mail several times a day now. I think something's wrong with me. It's different today because usually I get, more or less, a constant stream of e-mails, whereas today I've received none. How troubling it is, how dependent I've become on hearing from the outside world. You can blame it on an addiction to the internet, but that's too easy. It runs deeper than that. After all, I'm always happy to get real mail come in through the slot in the door. The only reason I don't check it as often is because the mail generally only comes once a day, and I rarely get any, so I don't expect it. E-mail however can come at any moment, correspondence from anybody in the entire world (although they're more likely just facebook messages or those tastefully tasteless and silly jokes that my mom forwards me from her older sister, Carmel). But there's always that hope, however small, that someone will send you a message so heartfelt or thought-provoking or urgent, you'll remember that people really care about you, and you're not alone in your garret. That will make this frantic addiction to e-mail justified. But until then, it's quite a waste of time and energy, especially when I should be doing homework. I ought to limit myself to checking just once a day, like snail mail.

Anyway, back to the grindstone.

Not to pleased that I'm missing the Oscars right now....

And Now for a Hodgepodge:

Alright, I guess I should apologize. It's been almost 2 weeks since I've finished and handed in my second short story for Fiction, and I haven't written anything since. Lord knows why not though, since my mind's been alight with ideas which, to me, are worth writing down. It's really distressing how my mind works so much faster than my pen or fingers can. It's a cause of a lot of my anxiety and frustration I think, the sheer mess my mind is always in.

So, here are some of the things I've been thinking about, lately.

Acting (unsurprisingly). The concepts that have really resonated with me lately is being in the Moment. It's this choice an actor makes to allow the present moment to happen, and to react accordingly with it. It relates back to Jim's "Squeaking Door Theory", how in the text a character sneaks onstage through a door while the other character onstage doesn't notice; but the door squeaks, and logically the character onstage must react to that, even though it wasn't written into the script. To fail to acknowledge moments like that make the whole thing lose its believability for both the actors and the audience. This is basic stuff, yes? Theatre 101 right here. And it's something I've fully understood since first hearing it. Yet only recently has it become more to me than something to acknowledge--to put up with--rather, it's become something to celebrate and hope for. It's these moments that make theatre so lively, and a show with a long run fresh every night. The irony of course, is that they can't really be planned per se. But if you prepare thoroughly, living in the moment won't be something to fear. As long as I can remember as an actor I've read my lines aloud to myself, in solitude. This can be useful in some ways, but in the end, it's acting in a vacuum, paying no respect to the truth of the moment in the scene when it's being performed. I want to get out of that habit.

Right now, it's reading break, and I'm trying to balance using this extended free time to both relax and to get some shit done. I'm trying to decide between writing about Antonin Artaud or The Blue Room, a modern adaptation of Schnitzler's La Ronde. The thing that interests me about Artaud is his fascination for Balinese theatre, which got me to looking on Youtube at some clips of it http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dytdVkUOR8s&feature=related

It's really mesmerizing. I can't stop watching these videos; they make me want to go to Bali and experience these performances first hand.

To be honest, I think Artaud is way more interesting, but I really don't know how to put it together in an essay. Oh well, I guess I should finish his book before I say anything.

I've started watching The Office over the break. It makes me pretty darn happy. Oh, and I drew in my notebook for the first time in months. It was such a great feeling. After having started reading Watchmen and talking to Graeme about anime it's made me want to draw again. I friggin' love it. It reaches a big part of me that acting simply cannot satisfy.

As you can see I'm following this blog: The Next Stage, and it's really inspiring and exciting to hear from people who are working in theatre and fighting to make independent theatre grow. At the same time it's frustrating because of the lack of attention that theatre is getting, and now the lack of funding, thank you very much, Mr. Harper. I'm glad it's making me angry though. It makes me want to get involved, it makes me care deeply about the state of theatre in Canada because it's not doing as well as it could be. Our art is always at risk of becoming obsolete, and that's what drives us, keeps us on our toes. And what I hear from this blog are voices of people who are working very hard and are proof that theatre IS relevant.

Note to self: make entries a little more cohesive. This can be remedied by posting more often.

Alright, so I've technically broken my resolution many times, already. I haven't been keeping a daily update on here. In my defense, I never said I would write every day on HERE. I've been writing almost non-stop throughout January, finishing one short story and quickly moving on to the next within a very small span of time, as well as editing the first one simultaneously. Work's just piled up and taken priority over this, and when I'm not working on Fiction stuff, I have to focus on my Acting homework. We've started rehearsals for Medea as well, so when I'm not at the Phoenix or editing my stories or workshopping other peoples' stories, I do need some time to cool my noodle, and perhaps share a word or two with my comrades, without whom I would become completely sucked into my lap top and closed off from the world. And though none of this is an adequate excuse, I'm not superhuman, (contrary to popular belief). Slowly but surely I'm learning how to foster good work habits, and when I have the luxury of time I can post on here more often. But until then, it'll have to be sporadic. I think resolutions, if they're really worth keeping, need to be renewed not once every year, but something like once every week. Even with my other resolution it's been tough. The past couple of weeks I haven't gone to the gym for the intended minimum of 4 days a week. Does that mean I'm going to give up? Haaayull no! If you can't be consistent, then at least be persistent.And we need to give ourselves time away, to gather our thoughts before we jump back into the squall again. And should we falter in our commitment, we simply acknowledge it, not punish ourselves for it, and keep going.