Last week, Tangent Online published a triple review of Unidentified Funny Objects 3, edited by Alex Schvartsman. I read them with one eye closed, ready for the great shoe in the sky to come down on my head.
However, the reviewers had nothing but praise for “Into the Woods, With Zombunny,” noting that as utterly ridiculous as the story and concept were, my utter commitment to the zany saved the day.
You can read the reviews here and pre-order your own copy here.
Last Tuesday I finally resigned myself to surgery I should have had months ago for the ruptured disc sitting on my radial nerve. Almost 10 days later, I’m experiencing new pains and limitations, but all in the name of a pain free life six to twelve weeks from now.
I visited my specialist who cautioned me to take it easy. It’s hard. I love reading and catching up on guilty TV series, but I also feel an underlying panic. Is the house clean? Should I have gone to the grocery store? Is there something I haven’t done?
I’m consoling myself with my mantra that art out requires art in. So if I’m a bit quiet for the next couple of weeks, it’s only because I’m focusing on ingesting art (and the basket of chocolate covered everything my darling Izzy sent me). xo
Earlier this month, I made a quick trip back to Montana to participate in a collaborative art project. My hometown of Billings is a place I’ve had trouble reconciling over the years. As an adult, I didn’t believe I belonged there. After five years in larger cities, the homogenous feel of the town was a bit smothering — I didn’t wear the right clothes or listen to the right music or think the right things. And yet, I want to want to be there. It is where my roots are, the last of my family, the vistas I know by heart.
I’ve spent more than a quarter of 2014 in Montana and it’s almost as if I can’t escape.
There are people making a difference.
People using art to start a conversation. Some of these people were my friends. Now almost all of them are my friends. Asked to join in the concept of “Tug of War: Where Conflict Resides,” I sent a batch of appropriate work. Directors Krista and Mike (who developed the idea), selected “The Great Divide” and “From the Kitchen of Helena Wilson” as components for the show. Around there were moments of dance, poetry, visual art, metaphor, audience inclusion, heat, light, breath, and the magic that comes from being a part of something truly unique.
I sat talking to some of the younger dancers before the show. They weren’t sure what some of the pieces meant, how they related to a tug of war. Some of their confusion, I said, was because they still had so much life to live before they could feel love and loss the way those of us in our 30s do. I hope someday they’ll look back and realize how lucky they were to touch so many creative minds at once, supported by a subset of a community that loved us back. I know I’ll carry this tiny hope, this flame of gratitude with me for the rest of my life. xo
Please check out just a few of the artists I was privileged to work with: