17 January, 2014

Listening to:

Reading:

Quote of the week:

The Roots: Things Fall Apart Marcus Gardley: The House That Will Not Stand

“Be regular and orderly in your life, so that you may be violent and original in your work.”
— Gustave Flaubert

2014 was a hard year . . .

2014 was a hard year . . . . I left my job for the sake of art.  In 2014 I wrote everyday, learned a thing or two about the craft, wrote one piece I was happy with, threw aside tomes of other work as heartbreakingly mediocre.  In 2014 I saw a lot of bad theatre, mind-numbing television, and dull movies, but I did see a couple works of art that opened my heart and mind . . . .

Now as I enter 2015 I’m seriously wondering if art is enough. My year is all planned out: teaching writing at Wits and at the Market Lab, my play Two Women opening in July, new television, theatre, and film projects on the go.  But I’m  still not sure . . .  sometimes I think maybe I should do something more concrete like shoveling a ditch or closing down a prison or even opening a mine . . .

I spent the new years catching up with old friends in England – an odd mix of chatting, visiting restaurants and theatre, crawling around the floor with babies and frantic toddlers.  We spoke a lot about our lives, where we were going, the role of art.  Afterwards I got this not from a friend:

“For me art seems more important than ever, looking at how people can fragment away from humanity and be brutal, it seems we almost have a ‘duty’ to maintain the amazing achievement that civilization is. A person could be in the mud killing each other or they could sit in a beautiful ancient building listening to an orchestra play a subtle and intricate composition of feeling and implicit cooperation. More than ever, art seems to me very much what it means to be human and to live – both for ourselves now and for future generations.”

I love the sentiment of the quote – art is what teaches us to be human.  Although as I read her note over and over I realize part of why I feel far away (from my former self) and perhaps a little despondent.  I’m not looking for art anymore in European buildings or orchestral concerts – I’m looking now instead in the textures of life in South Africa where I live.  I’m looking for transformation in what Fugard describes as the toilet water English of his Afrikaans mother.  Or I’m seeking hope in South African pre-colonial theatre traditions like the performance of a Pedi wedding negotiation with its speeches, praise poetry and dance.  Or I listen intently to the ways in which stories get mulled and churned and structured at taxi ranks waiting for the buses in Joburg- I want to know what instruction this language and these stories can tell us about how to live. This is where I seek my art these days.

So here’s my plan and this is where I’m looking for meaning in art in 2015. It feels like a difficult and sometimes fools errant task, but we’ll see what I find  . . .

27 December, 2014

Listening to:

Reading:

Quote of the week:

Ani Difranco: Canon Zora Neale Hurston and Langston Hughes: Mule Bone

“It is in our idleness, in our dreams, that the submerged truth sometimes comes to the top.”
–Virginia Woolf

20 December, 2014

Listening to:

Reading:

Quote of the week:

Bucie: Princess of House Steve Waters: The Secret Life of Plays

“Do not wait to strike till the iron is hot. But make it hot by striking.”
– William Butler Yeats

6 December, 2014

Listening to:

Reading:

Quote of the week:

Bracket: Cupid Stories Samuel Beckett: Waiting for Godot

“Buildings and bridges are made to bend in the wind, to withstand the world that’s what it takes”
–Ani Difranco

The Buddha’s Five Remembrances

Buddhism practice and discourse are an important part of my life.  I’m moved, intrigued, struggling with, curious about this one – “the five remembrances.”  To be contemplated (daily) to help free ourselves from destructive attachments and realize our true inheritance. I’m still chewing on them . . .

 

I am of the nature to grow old. There is no way to escape growing old.

I am of the nature to have ill health. There is no way to escape ill health.

I am of the nature to die. There is no way to escape death.

All that is dear to me and everyone I love are of the nature to change. There is no way to escape being separated from them.

My actions are my only true belongings. I cannot escape the consequences of my actions. My actions are the ground upon which I stand.