The Ticking Clock

In high school
time seemed interminable
each May an eon
each summer an eternity.

In college
much the same
with perhaps
more contention and melancholy.

But age
is a tricky thing
and at some point
the years start to pass with increasing rapidity

My father
ever the analytic
says perception is proportionate,
a year to a child is a substantial slice, to an adult a paltry fraction

For me
it seems life has gained momentum
inertia after shedding the unease of youth
now time holds mostly relish- and savor is always brief

The Fragility Of Belief

I'm currently reading Stephen King's meditation on horror Danse Macabre and one of the themes he returns to repeatedly is the idea of belief, the suspension of and the ability to. How important but tenuous belief can be in relating a tale, how as we age the more difficult it can be to give ourselves over to a story. But how important imagination and narrative are for us as kids but also, maybe even more vitally, as adults.

The sentiment echoes a lesson I learned when I was an angsty and unagreeable middle schooler. Every year from 5th to 8th grade I went to Camp Loan Oak which was a week long sleepover camp. A couple years I went there my sister was a counselor and I got to know the staff pretty well. One of her closest friends there Ted was my counselor one week when I was going into 7th grade. One night we were sitting around the camp fire roasting marshmallows for s'mores and telling ghost stories. The foreboding mood was heightened by the parks proximity to a graveyard.

After I and some of my fellow campers fumbled through paraphrased versions of Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark Ted told a "true story" about a counselor who, walking by the graveyard one evening, came upon a lost camper and gave her his sweatshirt, it being a cold evening, and as they cut through the graveyard on their way back to the lodge the camper disappeared. The sweatshirt was on a nearby grave, a kid who had died some thirty years before. Spooky. I was genuinely shaken and in an effort to bolster my non-existent courage I said "that didn't happen!" and made some joke which effectively deflated the eerie delicious atmosphere. I think some of us were relieved by my outburst but there was also a feeling of regret, something had been dispelled. Ted looked at me and said "No Steve. No it didn't." with such sarcastic scorn, such reproach and disappointment I felt like I'd been slapped. I was ashamed.

The next day Ted let it go and we were friends again but it stuck with me. Thinking about it Ted's story had cast a spell on us, we anxious and posturing 12 year olds, and I had broken the magic. And not because it was a bad story or poorly told but because it was successful, because I was truly scared. And had shied away from that precious precarious manifestation of imagination fearing as opposed to relishing how truly miraculous and fleeting it was.

Stories are not only entertainment they are solace and signpost, escape and enlightenment. And the belief we feel while watching a movie, reading a novel, or hearing a tale around a campfire is fragile and should be cultivated and respected. For without stories how would we face the bleak and mundane realities of life.

'The Edge Of Seventeen' A Review

The Edge of Seventeen is a coming-of-age comedy about anti-social teen Nadine(Hailee Steinfeld) as she deals with her best and only friend Krista(Haley Lu Richardson) dating her jock seemingly unflappable brother Darian(Blake Jenner). Nadine's teacher Mr. Bruner(Woody Harrelson) is her sarcastic and reluctant confidant as she navigates the affections of dorky Erwin(Hayden Szeto), the disregard of bad boy Nick(Alexander Calvert), and the collapse of her only friendship.

Steinfeld as the lead puts in a vulnerable, diverse performance but is periodically restricted by the somewhat illogical demands of the script. She shines brightest in her scenes with Harrelson, where both actors display magnetic chemistry and convey substantial emotion while trading quips. These are also the moments that Nadine feels the most real. Richardson and Jenner put in decent turns but are constrained by limited screen time with Steinfeld, perfunctory character development, and the somewhat cliched plot machinations. Kyra Sedgwick is underutilized as Nadine's mother having one or two great moments but an arc that is lacking.

The dynamite cast and engaging subject matter is restrained by the sheer number of problems with which its lead has to contend(not only a dead father but the desertion of a best friend and romantic travails any one of which would be worth the film's attention) as well as the sometimes flawed emotional heights the script requires. We get a glimpse into the mind of a young teenage woman but we are prevented from a full view by distracting genre conventions.

A fresh and compelling take on the coming-of-age story but prevented from real catharsis or discovery by a convoluted narrative.

Rent It.

Coming Cold

each year it is unpleasant
which seems unfair
as it is the same
year after year after year,
the annual winter
should come as no surprise
but regardless of preparation
we can only but survive,
days are short and chill
nights are long and colder still
there is comfort only in-doors
devoid of freshness and of thrill,
perhaps there is enjoyment
in labored icy breathing
in the slip and slide of a snowy evening
for me, I wait for spring and summer Eden.

Idea Fish

The past two months I've been shadowing a level one class at iO. It's been an engaging experience and I've learned a lot from Jessica(the teacher). One of the most interesting things about it has been seeing fledgling improvisers learn the basics, some of them with little to no context for the medium. It's been almost ten years since I took my first class and so the eager yet unformed mindset of some of the students is very refreshing but in some ways challenging. A couple of the students that have struggled a bit more have asked a version of that most mystifying question "where do I get ideas?"

In some ways I think improv, more so than other artforms because of its immediacy, is the discipline of inspiration itself. That, in application they are practically synonymous and trying to explain or teach how to be inspired is almost impossible because it will inevitably turn to how I am inspired as opposed to how one is inspired. This is through no fault of the teacher, there are as many ways to be inspired, to seek and cultivate inspiration, as there are fish in the sea and all you can ultimately impart is your own experience. You can talk in abstractions but for most students abstract instruction is at best inapplicable and at worst confusing. What I try to do is make clear various options or avenues I see during a scene or piece in hopes that it will jump start some internal analysis or imaginative spark. Some students want to know not only how to do it but how to do it right and in improv(in all art) that desire shows a fundamental misunderstanding of what creation is.

There are techniques and tools, forms and rules that can be taught but I think imagination itself can't(it can be strengthened). And most of the time I think when students ask questions about ideas it comes more from a place of natural frustration rather than true lack of ability. The one and only answer to the question "where do I get ideas?" is "I don't know." It is a question that all(famous) creative people get asked frequently but which all almost unilaterally answer with a deflection or a convoluted metaphor. Director David Lynch talks about ideas not being created but discovered. It's a theme writer Stephen King talks about a lot, currently I'm reading his non-fiction book on horror Danse Macabre, and he infers something similar. He talks about the genous of some ideas(a dream, an image of a rabid dog, a busy highway) but their amalgamation and how the book unfolds as he's writing he chalks up to will, talent(also unexplainable), and mystery.

In improv, and I think in all creative endeavors, the job of the teacher isn't to teach how but to help the student on their own path of discovery. To assist in cultivating an individual mode of inspiration. In teaching how we can only hope to produce imitators. Leading a student on their own path is much more difficult and perhaps imperfect. We can't help but impart some of our own personal process to those we hope to teach but it is certainly a more noble and, ultimately, more fruitful attempt.

And on talent, not everyone has it. Improv more so than other disciplines seems to call a lot of hopefuls because it seems relatively accessible. This is great for the improv teaching business but not so great for improv itself. Some folks can grasp how it works but lack the real creative drive that makes improv fun and exciting. King downplays talent(or natural ability) and says some talent is needed but discipline and will are the real necessities of the artist. And I agree up to a point but I've seen many tenacious improv hopefuls who simply do not get it, who do not have it, but keep on doggedly taking classes and performing in seedy locales year after year after year in hopes of a breakthrough that will(seemingly) never come. Not every person is a creative person. And although that can be a tough lesson its a lesson the teacher shouldn't be so afraid of imparting.

Where do ideas come from? I don't know. But I do know where I draw some of my inspiration- personal experience, fiction/TV/film, human observation. How that translates into characters and narrative I can't really explain, its mostly intuitive. That's a muscle you just have to build over time.

Stress

there is no benefit
to the draining
electronic drone
of nerves
particularly
in a sterile office
where even plying
considerable effort
is banal
and unexciting,
worry is as thankless
as a job done well.

Generosity

After the Sight Unseen show tonight the team gave me a card along with a donation from lots of improv friends to help Nicole and I bounce back from getting burglarized. It was an incredibly moving and stunning gift. An unfortunate thing happened and it was unpleasant but the outpouring of support that followed it was overwhelming, I've never felt so immediately and thoroughly taken care of, never been the recipient of this kind of kindness en masse. Nicole quoted It's A Wonderful Life "No man is a failure who has friends" and with the popularity of the film and its association with Christmas it may be a platitude at this point but that didn't undermine how right and appropriate and meaningful the sentiment was for us in the moment. The whole experience made me realize there are some things that can't be stolen. We are beyond grateful.

Our friends and family have not only given us warmth and support(both financial and emotional) but they've also given us strength. I'd like to think I'm relatively independent and capable, both practically and emotionally, and that may be true to a certain extent but that attitude can get in the way of asking for help when its needed. We all need help from time to time, whether we realize it or not, and its important to seek it out and ask for it as well as accept it when its offered. It doesn't make you weak or needy, in fact it makes you stronger. At least that's how I felt this week. Bolstered up and enlivened. Thanks again to all those who reached out with kind words and encouragement.