Fri. Oct. 11, 2024: Studio Life
photo by Devon Ellington Friday, October 11, 2024
Waxing Moon
Saturn, Neptune, Chiron, Uranus, Jupiter Retrograde
Pluto DIRECT
Still dark out, but much warmer
The photo above is what it looked like when I walked to the studio a little before 6 this morning.
This is my last post from my studio space. The week has flown past! Hopefully, I jumped on and rode at least some of it well.
Yay! Pluto is no longer smacking us upside the head (planet of transformation). Having all these retrogrades in autumn, forcing us to slow down, is counter to how we’ve trained to use autumn to rev up (school starts, vacations over, etc.). It creates a tension between the capitalist way we’re indoctrinated to think about a year’s cycles and what our inner voices are telling us. Which is exhausting, on multiple levels. So having one of them out of the mix (especially one about transformation) eases some of the pressure. Pluto goes direct in Capricorn (for the last time in our lives). It will be in Aquarius until 2043 (both for direct motion and retrogrades in that time). The last time Pluto was in Aquarius was from 1778 to 1798, and there was a whole lot going on when it came to social order and humanity then.
I had trouble getting going as far as focus yesterday morning. Gee, I wonder why! If we were here for two weeks or a month, I would have just taken yesterday off and lounged. I really do like the bed here, and I would have stayed in it. But with only three full studio days left (counting yesterday), I didn’t want to lose the time.
It was beyond monkey mind. It was more like squirrels on acid running up the walls of my skull.
Did a revision on the Milly/Ron scene I wanted to workshop. Did the revision on the poem I brought in on Tuesday, now re-named “Between Me and I” and incorporating the notes from my colleagues. I made a cut, changed a couple of rhythms, I took out something that was too specific and made it fit the rest of the tone better, getting across the same information.
I chatted with the colleague who got me interested in cleave poems about how to work the comic horror poem. If it reads across first, I want that to be the comic beats. When it’s read down, in columns, I want that to be the unsettling/horror version.
I doubt I’ll finish it before the end of the residency. But I’m trying to build at least a few sentences to bring in on Saturday, the last session. I tried to write the comic version first, but the horror version might be easier, and then tweak word choices to some that can have multiple meanings.
Started writing the Amanda section of the play (in the 70’s). Wrote the first scene; started the second scene, where Milly shocked me with a suicide attempt. So we’ll see where that goes (this is what I get for reading about Sylvia Plath in my downtime here).
Spent some time lying on my acupuncture mat staring at the clouds. I was afraid if I took a nap, I’d sleep through lunch and the workshop.
We ate lunch up on the mezzanine again. My friend was working the box office desk, so I got to chat with him and thank him for coming to the reading. After lunch, I took a wander over to Osman Khan’s ROAD TO HYBRIDABAD installation. Our cohort had a tour during the installation, so it was great to see how it all came together. I nipped upstairs to look at the ELUDING CAPTURE exhibit, too. I love what the artists are doing with textiles stretched, painted, and embellished on frames as though they were canvas. I would like to try something like that, but then layer words over it. Whether they would be printed on cloth, embroidered, or beaded on, I don’t yet know. I may go back today and tomorrow and sit with them for a bit.
Came back to the studio. Was tempted to take a nap (again), but worried I’d sleep through workshop if I did. Plus, it would have messed up my sleep cycle enormously.
Instead, I started reading POETRY IN PERSON: TWENTY-FIVE YEARS IN CONVERSATION WITH AMERICA’S POETS, edited by Alexander Neubauer. It contains edited transcripts of sessions Pearl London of the New School held with poets and student poets. The established poets would bring in new work and workshop it, with the students responding to the draft, and the poet describing the process. It’s fascinating.
I ambled over to the swing space for the workshop. Everyone’s work is so different and so interesting and so evocative. It really is a joy to work in creative space with them, and puzzle out details and word choices, and the rest.
I brought in the middle-ish scene from the play, the Milly-Ron scene before the party. It’s great that the poets enjoy jumping in and reading the different parts. They had a very positive response to it, and felt it hit the right height of cringe for the right reasons. They helped me finesse a couple of places where I knew I didn’t have enough subtext and manipulation, and that’s a big help, both for this scene and the overall structure of the piece.
Today I will bring in the party scene itself, which I still have to work on. I have the overall shape of it, but it needs more beat-to-beat attention. It’s still a little too vague to bring in.
It’s wonderful to have poetic eyes on a playscript because of their specificity and determination to find the word with the exact shade of meaning. What I learn from them (not just on my own work) is something I take with me all year, and it’s definitely made the playwrighting stronger.
Dropped stuff off at the residency apartment, picked up some stuff to bring home, and headed to the car in the lot behind Big Y. Drove around to the front of the building and stopped at CVS to pick up one of my mother’s prescriptions. Headed home. Unloaded the detritus from the reading. The jar of salsa had escaped a bag and was rolling around in the back. Fortunately, I closed it tightly enough so it didn’t spill, or it would have looked like I murdered someone in the back of the car and wasn’t smart enough to get rid of the evidence.
Got everything home, washed the dishes from the reading, unpacked the bags I brought home and put stuff away. Tessa wasn’t speaking to me; Charlotte was Velcro Kitty; Willa tried to grift some treats. Bea hadn’t eaten much all day, but when I gave her dinner, she dived in and ate the whole thing. Could she actually have missed me?
I ate a quick dinner, and brought the geraniums in because there was a frost advisory out for last night. We’d run out of printer paper at the studio; the office had ordered more, but they weren’t sure when it would show up. So I tossed a ream of paper into a bag and brought it back with me. Just to be sure.
Headed back to the apartment. The Collective was still at dinner, downstairs at Grazie. Berkshire Gas surrounded the building, working on something or other.
I hauled my sorry rear end up the stairs, took a shower, and put on my pajamas. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go to bed or try to stay up for a bit. If I’d gone to bed that early, I would have woken up around 1 or 2 and gone into the studio, then come back at some point in the morning and slept. Which would, of course, have thrown off the sleep schedule even more. For weeks.
My flatmate texted to see if I minded everyone coming to the apartment to hang out (we have the biggest living room). I said sure. So I guess I was staying up, for at least a bit! A cup of tea revived me, as did the company and conversation when they arrived. Several of them had also put on their pjs. One of our collective brought her guitar, so it was an evening of campfire songs.
It really wasn’t a late night at all. Everyone was tired, and trooped off after a couple of hours. I dived under the covers and was out like a light.
I woke up once, around 1:30, but got back to sleep quickly. Up at 5 with the alarm. I was actually reasonably efficient getting ready, eating breakfast, doing the dishes, and was in-studio a little before 6.
I ran into an acquaintance coming out as I was coming in. She has a permanent studio space here. She’d pulled an all-nighter on a commission, because the work was going well. She apologized for missing yet another reading, but said, “I always love it when you invite me to something, because then I know a big commission is about to show up. I feel bad for missing your stuff, but it happens every time, and my bank account thanks you!”
It was pretty funny.
She was going home to get some sleep.
There is printer paper here. Bringing a ream from my home office guaranteed the new order would arrive!
Today is a full day in-studio, so I’ll write and read a bunch. We’ll have lunch together. I might do a museum wander at some point. We’ll workshop in the afternoon, and we have dinner nearby this evening, then our planning meeting for next year, and hanging out. We have our dates, and next year is the 10th Anniversary of this Collective, so we want to do something fun for that.
Tomorrow is a full day in-studio; it will probably be much like this one. Writing, reading, lunch with the Collective, museum wandering, workshop. We have a nice dinner planned tomorrow night, and then our final night together. I have a small interruption in the morning, when I go to pick up the CSA box that was missing on Tuesday, and drop it off at home. I might use it as an opportunity to pack up some books to take back, and drop off the dirty laundry. I don’t think I’ll do laundry at the apartment.
Sunday morning, we have to clean up and clear out of the apartment by 11, and out of the studios by 3. I’ll haul everything home – and go to bed!
Next week, my show starts rehearsals in LA, and I’ll be ZOOMing in for it, late night my time. I’m sure Charlotte will keep me company.
Have a great weekend, and I’ll catch you on the other side.
