Tag Archives: circus

One Of Us

10 Jul

image

Listen: I had a super-awesome-fun-time-interesting blog planned for today, inspired and everything, but then “life” happened.

…I need to study the super-awesome-fun-time-interesting subject matter some more before I know quite how I wanna wrap my head around it and write it up. The whole thing caught me totally off guard, starting as a click on a FB link, then ballooned out from there, sucking hours of time.

…And it’s still too vast a field to write one blog on.  So I need to focus it a bit.  Then maybe do something creative-writerly with it as well.

In the mean time, I’ll tell you about how today while I was waiting for one of the SIX times my work computer had to reboot because of network errors, I got caught up in another google-fest because of a picture from the movie “Freaks” that popped up on my tablet FB screen.

…I have always loved that movie…the pre-code 1932 horror film by Todd Browning…most notable for NOT using Lon Chaney makeup artistry to achieve the look…but instead hiring REAL circus sideshow artists with a variety of medical, physical,  health, and mental issues to play the roles of the circus talent.  While some may see this film as nothing but a PC nightmare, few know that Brown was actually a member of a travelling circus as a young man, and felt nothing but love for it’s family of performers. In fact the film shows, if nothing else, the humanity, trust and honor of this special family of “freaks,” while seeing a few of the average “normal” members of the circus as lying, murdering, conspiritors.

…It’s astonishingly, shockingly, raw, and real…gave work to a slew of performers who would never otherwise have been given the opportunity, and freaked the hell out of everyone so much that they banned it in the UK for 30 years, forced several re-edit cuts (in pre-code Hollywood even) before U.S. viewings, and essentially killed it’s director’s career directly after.

But by 1960, it had been redescovered by new generations, shown at midnight movie houses, and in 1994 was selected for preservation by the United States National Film Registry, as being “culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant.”

…Which I think it is. 

…But don’t just take my word for it.

Give it a look-see. 

See it HERE for free.

~D

From Our Foreign Correspondent: The BFF

19 Oct

image

And now, a word from our Foreign Correspondent.

…She is back folks!

And, in more thinky terms of life changing philosophy, is here to share with you, (via our satellite offices) what it’s like to cry into your baking in abandoned woe, and roast a chicken in 90 degree heat (because goddamn it, it’s OCTOBER!)…what it’s like to haunt Kraft Service tables as an Extra on sets all day, and her burgeoning possible 8th career into Circus Performance Art, et al. Hold onto your hats, a lot of fun is coming at yuh! But first: we must begin at the beginning…and not give everything away right off the bat.

I give you: The BFF.

***

I am writing this from somewhere inside Elysian Park.

My lack of knowledge about my current whereabouts and my decision not to worry about being eaten by some large bush-dwelling park creature reflects the uncanny sense of calm I now feel in the face of the big, scary, directionless life change I made three weeks ago.

I am calm now. Make no mistake, I was not calm nine days ago.

WHO AM I

WHAT AM I DOING

WHERE AM I

WHAT HAVE I DONE?!?!?!?

These questions and more had a good week-long free-for-all over my entire conscious being, often paralyzing me creatively and socially, negating the very reason I ventured south in the first place: meet people, do things, make art.

You make some chocolate mousse at 11:30 in an empty apartment on a Saturday night, you cry, you read about the execution of Socrates, and then you realize, suddenly and violently, that every terrifying thought stopping you up to this point, exists solely

INSIDE YOUR HEAD.

A breath, a cough, you put away the mousse, you pry your self out of the pillow fort, and you begin, once again, to live life.

In almost 3 weeks of living in Los Angeles, I have:

Been an extra on 2 television shows (it’s really much much easier than it sounds)

Met and learned from many fellow artists.

Danced the night away.

Followed leads (some fruitful, others not.)

Conversed with many strangers.

Propositioned some clowns.

Sharpened the vision of my future theatre company.

And as of this afternoon, I may very well have landed myself both a job and some serious training at LA’s premier circus school.

PEOPLE OF THE WORLD: LISTEN.

All you have to do is something, it’s very easy although we most often make it very hard.

Sometimes, things will be shit. But everything changes, always, so dwelling is utterly futile.

Move, with life, and you will be fine.

Inspiration, though keen to strike us over the head when we least expect it, most often will only come out and play after much coaxing and many compromises. As an artist, you must place yourself in an environment where inspiration is apt to dwell, even if it does not instantly adjust, even if it requires hours of sweet-talk and ass-kissing, there are places where inspiration is more easily found than others.

We must find it, and we must know that just because we have found it, does not mean we will automatically be inspired.

This is my challenge, alone, in the belly of the beast, consistently adjusting the lighting, fluffing the pillows, and playing some Marvin Gaye in the recesses of my mind on the off chance that inspiration happens to drop by.

I left [home] because it was no longer a place that invited my inspiration. Los Angeles is terrifying and large and harsh, but for me, a jungle is always better than a desert.

Much love,

The BFF

***

…And equal love,

~D

%d bloggers like this: