Sun rise, Sun burn

July 31

July 30

A toad in the hand

We scout locations. We hike in flip-flops. We make videos in mud. Everywhere we go, my interns find frogs, butterflies, and magic. It seems like the world does have this capacity after all.

July 29

July 28

July 27

Historic Mecca

Graffiti on Mecca Covered Bridge

I drove my interns to Mecca, Indiana on Thursday. It was about fifty miles one way, with a crazy detour through Amish country. The nice farmers (who all looked like the actors in "The Witness") waved at us as we passed, and I couldn't help feeling overall warmth toward the countryside. The drive there was less of the flat, monotonous corn fields, and more of the rolling hills, scattered forests, and fields of cone flowers that made the idea of 'rural life' an appealing alternative to the hours of gridlock I happily left behind in California.

Mecca is a town of about 350 citizens, founded in the mid-nineteenth century. It apparently had a boom and decline associated with the opening and closing of a tile factory. All of my information on the town is related to me by the kind woman, Judy, who showed us around. (Mecca seems to be too small for this information to have found its way to the Internet.) Judy showed us the old 1-12 school house that is now used as the sole store and restaurant for the town. Many of the class rooms are used for meetings, historical displays, veteran displays, or are preserved as they were used fifty years ago. Judy also took us to a 19th-century, one room school house by the covered bridge leading into town. This school house was replaced in 1901 by the large brick school we visited (which closed in 1987-- I don't know what has replaced it).

This field trip into educational history was an effort to find the perfect setting for one of my video scenes. It seemed perfect, so they only missing criteria were miniature actors. I asked Judy about passing out fliers to get volunteer children to act in the school house. She was happy to oblige.

The next day, I got a phone call from a Mecca citizen, asking what would I like the children to wear. I repeated the description I had on the flier. She said, "Well, the school house is from the mid-1800s. Would you like the children to dress for that time period? Most of the kids in town have those outfits, as they perform in a reenactment there every year."

Of all the art that is made all over the world throughout the year, I love imagining this group of children in this tiny town coming together to act out school days for the entertainment of its 300 citizens.

July 26

July 25

July 24

July 23

Video Work in Progress

Today was our first day of shooting for "All Good Things Will Come to You Soon." After months of dreaming, weeks of planning, and days of bossing around interns, the first day of shooting has finally arrived and ended. I would like this piece to be a surprise, so I am not planning on putting clips of work-in-progress, but I would like to comment on thoughts that have come up in this process. First of all, I am collaborating with actors, artists who have certain ideas about things are portrayed, etc. Today, my actor was very young, being directed by my young interns while I oversaw the process and results. The scene is supposed to represent the struggle to create something perfect (perfect for a vision you have, whether clear or not). It is also supposed to represent how this struggle is a life-long quest, as opposed to a foot race.

So the scene depicts a young woman trying to make a drawing. Each drawing isn't quite right, but she is satisfied each is a step toward that goal. I am listening to my assistant direct her, things like, "Look happy about that. Was that a good line? Should that other line be different?" She is looking at the drawing with contentment, every now and then giving a little smile, or biting her lip. That is what acting like an artist should look like, I suppose. That image will read as "real."

When I make work (here and here), I don't seem to have such a face. It is an intent, intense face, mostly with pursed brows, pressed lips, leaning on my hand distraughtly. I never feel that euphoria I suppose everyone imagines artists have... it's hard work. It's draining. It's frustrating. But what else would I do with me time-- what would be the point? I don't know what I would do without it.

July 22

July 21

4-H Fair: Showing small-town pride in your children

There is a phenomenon us city dwellers have heard of (not in a detailed kind of way, but in "the name sounds familiar" kind of way) and that is the 4-H club. I was in a 2-H club in high school--the history and humanities club, but I am pretty sure it's not the same thing. 4-H has something to do with raising animals while in school. Even when you read about it, it is fraught with vagueness, like this giant, inside joke that city folk specifically aren't supposed to understand.

I did know there were supposed to be animals, and as that is my favorite part of the LA County Fair, I tricked two of my NYC friends (who also find themselves inexplicably in Indiana) into going. As we were later going to a play, they asked me with dubious arch of eyebrow, "so, should we go there for an hour, then off to our play?" An hour? But what if it is wonderful? What if it is the best thing there is? (Keep in mind, I almost invited them to the Fort Ouiatenon Spring Festival, which ended up being boring except for jumping into the river. So I was a little worried about talking it up too much.) Just in case of a bust, we also arranged to have drinks between fair and play, and the three hours I asked them to set aside seemed more logical.

When we arrived, we couldn't help noticing the smallness of the county fairgrounds. The only county fairs I have ever been to have been in counties with populations as big as this state, so I should have expected it. I became afraid. We walked through the booth area. There were only six booths. I became very afraid. Then we saw the baby animal tent and all was well. It's amazing how baby animals melt all hearts equally, even those of the coolest New Yorkers. Here you see my beautiful friend becoming so overcome by the cuteness of a goat, that she cannot pose for a photograph. As least she is there for size comparison, and as a reference point for delight-reaction.

We ended up spending the three hours looking at the animals, cakes, and science projects. We also watched a horse-ridding demonstration. In case you haven't googled 4-H by now, it is basically a fair of agricultural and craft/home-making demonstrations by school-aged children, so they can grow up to be smart in rural knowledge. You know, all that stuff city-folk have forgotten (like milking cows, slaughtering chickens, baking pies, sewing dresses, racing horses, castrating sheep, etc.).

Some of it seemed so surreal. For example, all the kids were wearing helmets on the horses (while helmets are not required or encouraged in this whole state-- I have definitely left California). No sooner had we commented on it, when a running horse fell and half rolled on his young rider. [I thought, oh no, not again. Luckily, there was a doctor closer to her than me.] Other surrealnesses were in our plain ignorance. In the sheep pens, we noted some were sheared, others not, and some seemed to be dressed like klansmen. I'm sure there is a reason. We are still learning the local language and something has been lost in translation.

Blog Guilt

I had meant to never let more than two days go by without making a performance for this site. (I didn't want a whole line of graves stone posts. People will get the wrong idea.) Let's say I have been reserving my performances for private audiences! But I didn't mean to let so much time pass! My excuses are quite real (lame)-- I finally took pictures to create an entry, but didn't have the upload cord with me. I had to write a job description for my fall student assistant. I had to run auditions. I had to go to that bar. I had to go see that naked play (Some Men). Eventually, I will find that cord and get that post up about small town cuteness. I promise. I don't know how many more graves will go by before you see it, but it will happen.

My favorite albums I am listening to around town are MGMT and the Moods. I am late to the party on MGMT (click here to see the HD music video-- it made me buy the album. Warning: long time to load and some hedonistic activities), as many of my favorite Internet personalities wrote about them months ago. But at least I have learned the error of my ways. The Moods are friends of mine in LA, and I am happy to say I was one of the first to that party, hearing their early practice sessions on an iPod, seeing most of their first shows, and I got the CD before it was released. Yes, that's how connected I am.

I only mention the albums for something to post, but there are days when I feel like good music gets me through the day. It's probably why I was so excited by this little "Mix Tape" thing in my sidebar over to the right. I can find any song I never owned and make fabulous music. People have been doing this on MySpace forever, I know, with weird little box-MP3 player things. But this actually makes it seem like a mixed tape, referencing the fine art of selecting songs and orders and the tone of the whole tape. I was never good at these things, because I would slap together an odd mix of music that made me feel certain ways (just for the glory of these songs making me feel things on command) and I tended to put contrasting emotions right next to each other. Offspring's Smash right next to Coldplay's Yellow followed by Madonna. I'll have to find that tape and try to recreate it one of these days. After I find a tape player.

July 20

July 19

July 18