by L-C on June 23, 2005
I was just musing with Jeanne Hopkins yesterday about how the second year didn’t seem to be so hard, and what was her experience, and why that might be so, and if I might be missing something.
The proverbial calm before the storm. In the Creative Movement class, I was getting in touch with some moody, gray emotional weather, which every day seemed that I could manage. Until this morning. We were doing some responses to our classmates verbal directions and then we got a sheet to consider the types of moves there were and our little vignette centered around our collage, and to consider expanding the vocabulary of moves in the vignette. I had started getting deeply emotional before then, as no matter what I tried to do , there was some part of me that was hurting and stopped me. The sheet of paper was the last straw - and I couldnt’ take the irony - consider expanding my vocabulary of moves when all I have been living for 30 + yrs is an ever shrinking one. The tears started in a stream, and I either was going to have to leave or just be emotional in public. I wanted to shrink into a little hole and disappear. Even the little dance I had sort of made around my vignette was kaput - there was no way I could do it with the pains in the neck, back, feet. I could barely stand up or get to floor much less move between the two. I was left with the option of “dancing” with what was left of me. I picked a group that wasn’t using music because there was no music to describe my dance space. I opened from my little curled ball and writhed on floor, tried to get a way up, slowly working my way on to my feet. It seems so much more fluid to write than it was. It wasn’t a movement about fluidity. Often I started a move and had to freeze due to shooting pains somewhere. It was a halt-move-halt compas of contortion.
Afterward there was some time for discussion, which I didn’t have much intention of participating in as I was sitting off the floor half under a table, holding myself together = sort of . The water works had been going non-stop now for about 40 minutes. I was on the periphery until XXXX mentioned that we all were doing moves so much better than we ever dreamed of - to which I had to just pipe up and keep it honest and clarify that in my case that just was NOT SO. Karen K. asked me if I wanted to talk about it. I did and I didn’t. It was one truly authentic moment in my life when I was just as I really am. It was all out there - even when I let myself voice the scream of my primal self when asked if I was mourning …. duh.
I feel a big “so what” now. Nothing has changed - a few more people know a bit more about who I once was. It is such ancient history, except to my soul. It was just a moment ago in the timespace of my heart. Living as half a person for three days or thirty years seems irrelevant. All of the wisdoms I have earned the hard way are no less true. I am thankful for my life, in and of itself. But the memories of Before are not dimmed. The soul still speaks of the magic of tasting flight for more than a few fleeting moments. When you’ve supped ambrosia at the table with the gods, wine and water will slake the thirst - and no vintage no matter how exquisite will ever compare. I connected my experience on the level of mythology of being thrown off Mount Olympus - interesting where that line of comparison might go.
by L-C on June 21, 2005
The entire U Mont Missoula campus does not have one jacuzzi for students. I guess with an average age under 25 in the student population, they are not crying out for relief. Tomorrow is going to be HELL. However, Diane told me about gym on Broadway that will let you in with a daily pass for ten or so bucks - which is 40 or so bucks cheaper than a masseuse. My poor ankles.
I found the Body Olympics exhilarating and fascinating. Why shouldn’t I - we have entered into the Queendom of ME. What was most telling was in the Tools category when both the left and right hand had to work simultaneously using socket wrench in turning bolt - it took all my mental concentration to direct the fine motor work of left hand to make those circles, that there was no brain motive force left over for the right hand - it slowed down and almost stopped altogether. I am still on a two-year old level with fine motor stuff of the left hand that is “new”. Picture the toddler where all their concentration is required to put the square block in the square hole. Learning hip hop was a blast - and great exercise. I really should get that zuma tape - and I would be a hell of a lot more motivated to use that then the Pilates. Which like Steph MacL has been sitting unopened.
And words cannot describe how excited I am about Brain Buttons etc. I am going to write to Lisabeth and tell her that I am learning Second Grade Secrets that I will share when I get home.
by L-C on June 20, 2005
Began Creative Movement. Journaling is requireed. I expect a good lot of that to show up or originate here.
Ended Critical/Creative Thinking. It was one course I had hard time connecting to - but I think I finally figured out why. {post what will write tonight on revised process}
I am as tired as expected - need to pamper myself via diet to make it through all moving and physical stuff.
Bought a bathing suit that actually looks nice on my chubulous sagging tummy and butt. Want to find the jacuszzi if it exists. I forgot to take prophylactic Aleve last night and boy am I sorry.
It is not so important to describe the creative process to others, or students, but to put them in situations where they will experience it and then ask them to reflect upon it themselves. I have to rememeber to use more or in more ways the questions I ask of Design Studio projects at reviews:
1) What went the best and why do you think that happened?
2) What did not work out at all as planned, and what might you do differently next time?
3) What did you discover that was totally unexpected?
more later - time to go in search of fish.
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by L-C on June 18, 2005
Chchen Itza is a place
Csikszentmihalyi* (cheetchenmeehai) is a face
Chicken Pizza is a dish
In naming folks, don’t you wish
You could say them and not miss.
*Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi - noted researcher in creative process
by L-C on June 18, 2005
There is an old Asian proverb - “Three steps forward, one step back”. It refers to the tiger when it hunts, it will creaep forward three steps, and then take one step back to solidify its center - just before it springs to pounce on its prey. It is often referenced as the metaphor for the necessary time taken between periods of intense activity - to reflect, rest, rejuvenate - before springing off again to next phase of project or journey.
I keep trying to put to rest the nagging insecurity I feel in relationship to the ease at which I slid back into the rhythm of the Pulse. In many aspects, it was as if I had only stepped out for a moment. I worry that I am not working hard enough - where will the rigor be if it all is coming so fluidly. I have asked myself what is different. Some of the answers I get are that I need to concentrate on what I need to be giving - putting on the table - not just digesting what I take away. I want to challenge myself to connect with others - and not just those I am comfortable with. This is not easy for me - I so like to scurry around in my own little crazy world.
What is my purpose here this time ’round?
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