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lightbulbheart Easybake, roadtrip

Yes, And…a 4 page google doc

In the early stages of easybakeroadtrip planning, I was thinking about creative partners I would want to spend hours in rooms with. One of the best humans I’ve experienced that with is Emily Hill. I emailed her with very limited details because I wasn’t ready to fully articulate the thing yet.

Mar 14, 2018

Hey lady,
You around in July? If yes, can we make stuff? I have an image of an easy bake oven where my heart should be. Knocking around ideas of grown up self-compassion and kid wisdom/creativity for self-soothing.
A

I knew she would be kind, but I was bowled over by the force of her assurance. Her response was an affirmation of radical I believe in you proportions and a 4 page google doc chockfull of  “it sounds like, looks like, smells like, feels like…” gorgeousness.

Emily said “Yes, and.” Yes, and is the foundation of improv. It’s an incredibly gracious and hospitable and necessary thing to do in life and art. Yes, and says, “I see you and what you have given me, I’m going to build on it, give it back to you, and trust that you have something interesting to give again.” When it’s truthful, it feels like the best kind of dare.

I am simultaneously emboldened by Emily’s affirmation of me as a person and terrified about the actual doing of the thing. Because of her encouragement and feedback from now lots of others, I believe this can actually BE a thing. Listening to people tell you that you are wonderful and that you can be and do whatever you want is hard. Saying “Yes, and” to yourself when you’ve spent decades saying, “hmm….nope?” feels impossible, but it can be done.  Be kind to yourself, human! I dare you!

In related news, I also think I have to learn close up magic…yes…and? Deep breath.

lightbulbheart creativity, Easybake, performance, roadtrip, storylady

Whistlestops!

Todd Rosenlieb Dance & Virginia Ballet Theatre Ensemble Concert – May 04 & 05, 2018

img_0889I had a mini-start last week in Norfolk, VA with my dear friend and choreographer Heidi Anderson. Together, we hit all three Easybake goals: storytelling, art/hospitality, and devised work. Heidi choreographed a beautiful staging of the children’s book Miss Rumphius and I told the story while five gifted dancers brought her vision to life. Heidi gave the dancers “seeds” of movement and worked with them to find natural sequences and gestures that suited their individual bodies. I am so proud of everything we presented at TR Dance and am in love with the family Todd Rosenlieb has assembled!

I worked my day job remotely and Heidi and I spent non-rehearsal nights doing Strengths work. She is a GALLUP Certified Strengths Coach and everything I learned feeds directly into this newly hatched plan o’mine!  (If anyone’s interested, my top 5: Developer, Empathy, Connectedness, Positivity, Arranger.) I am so very thankful for Heidi’s long friendship, her gifts of time and energy, and for finally being able to collaborate with her. I hope to return to VA at the end of the summer to work on movement for the easybakeheart project!

And now…

I’m currently in New York trying to finish my day job well and churning out easybakeheart workshop materials at night. Some things are still in flux and I hope to hit Austin in August or September. This is happening, y’all!

lightbulbheart Easybake, mental health advocacy, performance, roadtrip, storylady, workshop, writing

some things take decades to bake

1979. El Paso, Texas. I stress eat Easy-Bake Oven cake mix in the quiet dark of my childhood bedroom closet. Far more of those salty-sweet chemical concoctions make it to my mouth dry and straight out of the packet than would ever see the inside of a tiny baking pan and heat of a single light bulb.

2017. Hamilton, Ontario. I stress eat Lindor chocolates in my car. The quiet, aloneness, and compressed space of my Honda Civic feels familiar and ancient.

I took a writing workshop last February that involved an outline of my body on a sheet of butcher paper and free-association drawings that evoke formative life events and dead people I have loved. A disproportionate amount of real estate is dedicated to 10 lbs of sunshine yellow and chocolate brown plastic. There is literally an Easy-Bake Oven where my heart and lungs should be.

Tiny Me understood some things about how she was made. She loved the things Now Me loves. Quiet. Being outside. Rain. Books. Swingsets. Stories. Observing people. Making things. I want to honor the choices she made that brought us both life and joy and give her grace for the choices that still give me grief.

So…I gave notice at my job and will spend June and July in my Civic, working my way through the midwest, gulf states, and central and eastern south with the following goals:

  1. See old friends and read to their new tiny people (I am also considering setting myself up in parks with a sandwich board promoting story times, so if you have ideas for Mobile Storylady names, let me know!).
  2. Have big conversations with people about creating interdisciplinary art communities and hospitable audience spaces.
  3. Workshop stuff with a few theatre makers on the ideas of self-compassion and the innate wisdom of our tiny selves.

I’ll be documenting highlights here as #3 makes its way (hopefully) into something that more people than just me can eat. (People, places, blog roll from roadtrip here)