librasun-libramoon

[librasun-libramoon]

“They’re gonna laugh. That’s okay. Keep writing.”

- Lin-Manuel Miranda

What’s your name, man?

[librasun-libramoon]

A reblog from my primary blog.

Gene Wilder - Willy Wonka

They say to write to your heroes, but not to expect a response because it puts too much pressure on them to reach your expectations. Mr. Wilder, I want you to know - I don’t just admire you. Because I was introduced to you through Willy Wonka, I am terrified of you. Of your genius. In a good way. So any expectation I would have upon hearing from you would be pre-empted by sheer panic. Which is to say, better for both of us we don’t meet. But hear me out.

Sometimes there are actors out there who play a role that will change your life. For me, it’s Willy Wonka. And not Roald Dahl’s strange, perky, slightly adorably spastic Willy Wonka - the dazzling-eyed, calmly insane, awe-inspiring Gene Wilder’s. Prepare yourself Mr. Wilder; this is quite frankly a long overdue fan letter from a 10-year-old-trapped-in-a-26-year-old’s-body. 

What is so compelling about that Willy Wonka? Part of it is that Gene Wilder took something that went from this:

To this:

On behalf of us all, thanks for forgoing the goatee, Gene.

In the book, the first description we get of Wonka when he comes out of the factory is pretty vivid:

“How clever he looked! How quick and sharp and full of life! He kept making quick jerky little movements with his head, cocking it this way and that, and taking everything in with those bright twinkling eyes. He was like a squirrel in the quickness of his movements, like a quick clever old squirrel from the park.”

My sentiments exactly, google image squirrel. Not exactly what I saw in the movie.

And this was the exact moment that all of my hopes and dreams for any kind of art I make were birthed from the loins of Zeus. 

Gene Wilder wrote to Mel Stuart (director of the movie) that he would take on the role of Willy Wonka on one condition:

“When I make my first entrance, I’d like to come out of the door carrying a cane and then walk toward the crowd with a limp. After the crowd sees Willy Wonka is a cripple, they all whisper to themselves and then become deathly quiet. As I walk toward them, my cane sinks into one of the cobblestones I’m walking on and stands straight up, by itself; but I keep on walking, until I realize that I no longer have my cane. I start to fall forward, and just before I hit the ground, I do a beautiful forward somersault and bounce back up, to great applause. Because from that time on, no one will know if I’m lying or telling the truth.”

“No one will know if I’m lying or telling the truth.”

Only the slightest bit horrifyingly BRILLIANT. 

Sound familiar, Shakespeareans? It should. 

Take one of Shakespeare’s fools. Feste, for example. From Twelfth Night. 

Feste does what a lot of fools do. He makes his living darting between noble houses singing songs and delighting people. Evoking all their emotions. And he carouses and drinks with the lower class too, taunting people who think they are greater than they are (Malvolio). There are no bounds to where Feste can roam and what he can do.

Because he’s a different class of person.

Not that kind. That’s a whole other post.

Fools have a special place in all of Shakespeare’s plays - they entertain, they evoke every feeling, they lie through their teeth, and they tell the god’s honest truth. In fact, they are usually the only ones on stage that can see through just about every illusion. 

Feste is the only character in all of Twelfth Night that figures out Viola (dressed as a boy, Cesario) is actually a girl. It’s a clue in the text that A SURPRISING AMOUNT of productions today miss:

VIOLA: I warrant, thou art a merry fellow and carest for nothing.

FESTE: Not so, sir, I do care for something; but in my conscience, sir, I do not care for you: if that be to care for nothing, sir, I would it would make you invisible.

The word “nothing” was a pun to the Elizabethans. It also meant vag. Literally “the no-thing.” As in “NO!” Anyone else find that funny? Anyone?

Feste is basically calling Viola out - that if to care for her is to care for “no-thing,” he wishes that she would disappear. Instead of a girl dressed in boys clothing (which is clearly inconvenient for her). Also, note the number of “sirs” he throws in there. Comic gold. 

HOW DO SHAKESPEARE COMPANIES MISS THIS?

Anyway. End rant. 

Feste is, in his way, an all-powerful being. He sees everything. 

So what do you think would happen if someone gave this all-knowing, all-powerful being his own kingdom?

Perhaps a chocolate factory?

Oh, and also - remember all those haunting songs and quotes Wonka throws in there? Just out of the blue? Well, surprise, surprise. Almost all of them are from this guy:

“Where is fancy bred, in the heart or in the head?” - Merchant of Venice

“Springtime, the only pretty ring time. When birds do sing hey ding a ding, ding, sweet lovers love the spring.” - As You Like It

“Adieu, adieu, parting is such sweet sorrow.” - Romeo & Juliet

“So shines a good deed in a weary world.” - Merchant of Venice

“Is it my soul that calls upon my name?” - Romeo & Juliet

You get the idea. 

And we can’t forget that Roald Dahl wrote this character. He brought it to into being. And his Willy Wonka evokes a lovely aspect of the Shakespearean fool (a bright, twerky, thought-provoking, slightly creepy being), but Wilder’s takes it to the next level. 

Just because of that little bit of sinister mystery he places in our brains in that first moment, we have to wonder what he’s going to do to those bad children. He’ll see through them immediately. Like he does. 

And you know what happens? They get what was coming to them. 

Anyone remember that Feste scene with Malvolio? In the asylum?

Creepy shit. 

TL;DR - Willy Wonka was Gene Wilder’s version of a Shakespearean fool with his own chocolate factory kingdom. Bow down.

[librasun-libramoon]

Lest anyone forget I will never do anything in my life as great as this.

[librasun-libramoon]

There is joy in the activity.  And there is great joy in the discovery that such activity leads to something on which you can feast your eye, your ear, and your soul too.  Something that offers insight, illumination, and the gift of sharing and communion.  And there is an intense gratification in the realization that others receive joy and happiness from it too, feeling uplifted and transported beyond the here and now.  Perhaps this is also the artist’s way of saying “take note– I was here.  This is my way of leaving a tiny imprint on the vastness of the universe.  I too am part of the creative forces of our world.”  Art’s very nature is meant to be experienced. For me, the presence of the listener, the one who takes it all in, is an inseparable part of the act of creation.  And while I compose first of all for myself, filtering every decision I make through my own critical faculties, I cannot imagine a composer, a painter, a playwright, who would claim to be content without there ever being someone on the other end ready to experience the work.  Is there anything more in keeping with the flow of life than the need to touch, both literally and figuratively, and be touched?  And this is where communication comes in. And yet one would argue that to make communication one’s starting point is putting the cart behind the horse.  We create, and we must believe that if we put all we have into the making, there will be others with whom that which is our truth will resonate.  Our shared humanity is what supports this belief.  It starts with the act of making, for all of its toil, its rigor, the agony, and the ecstasy of it.  The ecstasy part, the vision of which sustains us, those eureka moments, often being doled out in tiny increments and in vast disproportion, alas, in the price, the agony, that the process extracts from us. And so we come now full circle back to the premise that anything that is really worth pursuing regardless of field or discipline and that will better our humanity’s condition in some manner is not easily obtained.  The road is arduous and sometimes humbling, which is why, at the core of it all, there must be joy in the making itself. And this is what I wish to say to you on this great day, to you and the people who love you and have supported you on the road you have chosen:  Set your goals far and high and be willing to go to the end of the earth to achieve them.  And may you always find joy in the sheer act of doing it.

Shulamit Ran (Recently retired UChicago Professor and Composer) in her convocation address “Why We Make Art.” (via pekasairroc)

[librasun-libramoon]

Theater of My Generation

Recently I've been doing some of the inner nitty-gritty exploration work that makes me an crazy person artist. Asking some of the important questions - why I am interested in doing a dying art like theater? What's the point? 

And every time I ask that, my inner self interrupts with the more interesting question, "Who will be the next Shakespeare?" Because I fucking love Shakespeare. I work in Shakespeare almost exclusively, and I adore it. So when is another guy/girl (way too excited about the idea of a lady Shakes) like that coming along? I want to know.

I think I'm really interested in a few different things:

How do we create theater right now that will become "classic"? 

What art is my generation drawn to?

What kind of work do I want to create?

I think it comes down to storytelling (SURPRISE IT'S THEATER). We're all drawn to different stories. Individually, we all prefer different ones, but more importantly, I think each generation has its own favorite stories. 

For instance, our generation right now is really invested in King Arthur stories. A young boy pulls a sword from a stone because he is the chosen one. Harry Potter is the chosen one. Frodo is the chosen one. Katniss. Avatar Ang. Spiderman. Eliza Thornberry. All the Disney heroes/heroines. Just by being who they are - their ordinary selves - they are actually extraordinary. 

That story speaks to us. I could expostulate the reasons it does forever: we want to believe we’re special because our parents told us we are. We believe we’re special just by being ourselves. We’re beautiful in our own skin. Blah blah, self-love, et cetera (don't get me wrong, it's super important guys).

My point is that the King Arthur story, while it may be universal, wasn't a predominant story in my parents' generation. They didn't/don't connect to it like we do. After talking to my parents, some of the pieces they say their generation connected to were The Graduate, The Godfather, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, Dirty Harry, The Good The Bad and The Ugly, and Apocalypse Now. All anti-hero stories.

My parents are part of the baby boom generation. Their stories are about going against the rules established in the 50s. Seeing the world as it was, rebelling, and still bringing justice (there's my dad's lawyer voice). Clint Eastwood. A lot of westerns. And that's just one of the stories they are/were invested in. And our own generation has more stories than just Arthur, too.

So why are those stories important? We can ask ourselves, "What art do I want to see?" in order to create work worth sharing, but just doing that doesn't mean we can create something that will connect with everyone. And isn't that the goal? To create a universal human connection? Community? I think so. 

And if the goal is connection, how do we tell it that through a dying art like theater? By some miracle, in a really successful way, like Shakespeare did? Now's where we look backwards. What did Shakespeare do - how did he connect with his generation?

Some defining characteristics of Shakespeare's generation:

They learned and experienced stories in mostly auditory ways (memorizing church verses, lectures, etc). 

Most never learned to read or write. 

Some of the well-known stories of the time were in the Bible, Greek mythology, and English history.

Some defining characteristics of our generation:

We learn and experience stories mostly visually (movies, TV, computers).

We experience language in a more visual/streamlined/picture-oriented way (emoticons, abbreviations, GIFs)

Some of the stories we know really well are Disney/Pixar, Harry Potter, and superhero movies.

So Shakespeare was in the right place at the right time. He knew how to create beautiful language because he knew rhetoric. He knew how to make up words. He knew how to tell a story that his audience was trained from birth to listen to. He connected with his generation. And he was so good at speaking universal truths, he connects with us now even though we haven't been as well-trained to hear his stories. 

So how do we do that for our generation? How do we tell stories that grab us by the eyeballs and make us listen? That connect us as a generation, and as human beings?

Said problems (and hopefully many others) to be solved in our next episode... "That One Time Annie Didn't Stay Up All Night Writing Crazy Things About Art and Stuff." 

[librasun-libramoon]

[librasun-libramoon]

‘Uncaged’ The strongest ones come from broken pieces, and they become strongest at the places that broke. @atticuspoetry #atticuspoetry

[librasun-libramoon]

I wanted you to see what real courage is … It’s when you know you’re licked before you begin, but you begin anyway and see it through no matter what.

Atticus Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird (via lumbrada)

[librasun-libramoon]

A good reminder.

“The biggest mistake you can make, is removing jewels from your crown to make it easier for a man to carry. When this happens, I need you to understand, you do not need a smaller crown- you need a man with bigger hands.” 👑

[librasun-libramoon]

Richmond Road

When the world becomes prickly An overwhelmingly detailed Sunday I drive an evening down Richmond Road. Waves of wind-rolled grass Edge towards Neverland. The timing has to be just right To catch the grace between sunset and dusk. You’ll know the smell, the lilacs remember you. They felt the warmth of your palms On that humid night When she ran from the thunderstorm Leaving you in the rain. As the sun melts into the hills, Don’t forget to take the last bit of glow For your eyes. The fireflies already harvested theirs. And when the land goes dark, they feast. One star, a pair of eyes, a thousand constellations, Soon it’s impossible to tell Which side of the universe you’re on.

[librasun-libramoon]

I love this.

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In love with this article. Self worth FTW.

[librasun-libramoon]

So cute and lovely! :)

Your Own Tea Room in a 134 Sq. Ft. Japanese Tiny Home?

One of my favorite new tiny house builders is the Oregon Cottage Company led by architect Todd Miller.

This tiny home that I’m showing you today was completed for a client of his who wanted a home that she could afford and love. She also grew up in Japan, so she wanted something that would really make her feel at home.

She really wanted a tea room. But this is a huge challenge when you’re designing a 134-square-feet house. So Todd proposed to combine the living space with the tea room. And it worked!

There’s a built-in warming hearth for the tea kettle on the floor and all of the mechanics are hidden underneath. Plus there’s even some storage that you can use underneath this area for other things. Let me show you.

[librasun-libramoon]

Being In Love

Love connects us all. Whether we like somebody or not, we are connected to them through love. The love that connects us knows no limits. We don’t have to be in the same room or same country as a person to love them. We can love people while they are awake or asleep, alive or dead. Such is the capacity of love. We love all the time. We are loved all the time. We are beings in love.

Sometimes we forget about that. Sometimes we think that love is a delicate and rare commodity, that we can give and withhold it according to our moods. We think it comes and goes, that it happens to some people and not to others. When we think that way, we worry that it might not happen to us. We worry that we can lose love. We feel separate, alone, unloved, unlovable. That is confusion.

When we find somebody special to love, who loves us, we fall in love. That feels great. It is hard to know though how the other person experiences love. We may feel intense love and begin to doubt if they feel the same. That feels awful. Then they say something or do something that confirms how they feel. That feels great. Then we worry that something might have changed, or doubt their motives. That feels awful again. Then they reassure us that they love us and we feel great again. That checking, checking, checking, can be exhausting. It can get in the way of recognizing the love that carries on, unphased with those ups and downs.

Figuring out how to love and who to love is part of what we do. Loving beings is what we are. It is helpful to remember that whether we are in-love or not, we are in love. Being aware of that, feeling the comfort and peace that comes with that recognition is always a nice place to be. Being around people who help us to recognize where we are is also wonderful.

[librasun-libramoon]

It’s okay to change your yes to a no. Yes’s aren’t permanent. They’re something we choose again and again, each and every day. Something we have the right to recall and reconsider as soon as saying yes no longer feels conducive to our wellbeing and happiness. It d.oesn’t matter whether you said yes to a job, a date, a relationship, sex, a favor to a friend, a social endeavor, or a vow of silence — you don’t ever have to commit to something that forces you to compromise who you are and what feels right; especially if it’s something you agreed to under pressure, intimidation, or force. Changing your yes to a no might make people angry. It might hurt their feelings, cause them to see you as a flake, and result in lost connections. But if saying no means staying true to yourself, honoring your feelings, and making self-care a priority, it’s worth it. You are worth it. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise

Daniell Koepke (via onlinecounsellingcollege)

[librasun-libramoon]

It's me!!! As a doll! :)

Is it too late to request a doll? They all look so awesome!! I want one :)

[librasun-libramoon]