HOW QUICKLY WE FORGET

The last semester I attended CCC I took the class "Reviewing the Arts" which was taught by Ms. Mara Tapp (think NPR, Chicago Reader, among others). I have always tired to eliminate the teacher student hierarchy relationship trap with those whom I have genuine respect for. You already know Ms. Tapp is one of those teachers. Though we never socialized while I was in her class (this is starting to sound weird), since then we have had great conversations though email. Last night we went to see Guantanamo, a Timeline Theater production, performed in a hall behind a church up near Belmont & Clark. The location, title and obvious subject of the piece had already set the tone, but nothing prepared me for what I was to see. This unfortunately is good and bad. The space denotes the stage running through the center of the hall, placing the audience either side. This allows the audience to slip into a more engrossing observer experience as well as becoming more higher tuned of your own presence. The play itself was very well written, telling the actual story of 4 detainees through the individuals, their families, legal help and Donald Rumsfeld. Not to spoil anything...the first act last around 90 minutes, which pulls you in further, making you feel the stiffness of the room and stopping you from escaping the emotion of the actors. Don't go back for the second act...it adds nothing and last only 20 minutes. I wonder why they included it!

YOU'VE GOT TO HAND IT TO THE FRENCH

The European Union Film Festival is on at the moment at Gene Siskel and who could resist seeing a 5 hour epic about the history of cinema, edited down into 84 minutes...Oh and told in at least three different spoken languages (chapter titles are only in French). I'm talking about the re-edit of Jean Luc Godard's stunning collage of poetry, music, dialogue, still images and least we forget film. It goes without saying, it blew me away! Unfortunately, I hadn't received the memo from the building management that they were expecting near artic conditions outside and so were treating the audience to a sauna. That aside, I will be keeping an eye on the center's calendar for more gems. Just get there early...the teachers from the Art Institute seem to buy up a chunk of the tickets for their students.

TRIGGER FINGER

So the cast came off yesterday and boy is my finger fat! No sooner had the surgeon cut my hand free, then I was rushed into another room and my finger was set into action...passive action...physical therapy that is. For, who knows how long, I will be flexing and extending, stretching and compressing, trying to beat the scar tissue that put me under the surgeon's knife for a second time. Though I must say, I've never turned down a hospital that is happy to hook me up to an I.V. with a little narcotic laced with some warm and fuzzy hallucinogenic...

CROSSED CIRCUITS

Over the past week, for whatever reason unknown to the human race, I have been contemplating why we make the decisions we do...I'm talking about ME! I am scheduled to have a second surgery to fix my finger once-and-for-all on Tuesday 7th March (pending insurance approval) and I have an interview as a shooter at a studio tomorrow, so obviously my mind is over heating with over analysis pending these two events and the thought of not using my left hand for the next 4-6 weeks. When we are handed ideal jobs or opportunities we ( I ) make the ideal unappealing and the difficult and mind numbing, easily accessible. We tolerate the intolerable because it becomes the familiar, we laugh and joke about the very things that used to horrify us so much that we would put our hands over our ears and squeak our eyes tight shut, to keep them from touching our soul. How did we come to be this way? I don't know. Is there hope for us? Of course, the learning curve is just very steep.


shopping cart in field by motorway in England August 2005