Sore and Tired

I've been thinking quite a bit about what I want: out of my career and life in general. I vacillate between trying to make it big and being content to stay in Minneapolis and seize the opportunity to create my own work. But you know what I really want? I want to relax. I want to stop trying so hard.

Most of us start out learning something, a new skill, a new language, by trying really hard. We think if we try really, really hard we'll get it. For the past two years I've been taking ballet, and the main thing I've been working on is to stop trying. When all the body parts are working together and I'm on balance and I can turn and jump, I can't feel a darn thing. Not a thing. So every time I go to class I have to recapture that non-feeling feeling, and in order to do that I have to relax and stop trying so hard. Nine times out of ten, I don't get there. But that tenth time...when I get there at least once, it's a delightful surprise. I feel something in me expand. (I sometimes fall over because I'm so surprised that I stop moving through the combination.) It makes the other frustrating nine times worth it.

I'm not saying that I don't come out of ballet class sweating like a pig. I do. Because I do have to work, but the ideal is to direct energy in the right channels, rather than clenching or bearing down and holding it all in. And I'm not saying that in my career and life I don't or shouldn't work hard. I've just been bearing down and clenching my hypothetical muscles and waiting for something to happen. Nothing will happen with bearing down except me getting tired.

So here's the hard part: identifying where I'm trying to muscle my way through my career. I don't always know when I dance, and I have only the barest inkling of where to begin in regular life. Nonetheless, recognizing that I'm doing it is the first step, so I guess I'll go from there.

Photos

Me
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle.

Come see photos from the Iveys on Flickr.

I went to the Iveys last night. I'm tired today. And thoughtful.

Friiiiiiday

I had the pleasure of performing in Raw Stages at the History Theatre this week. Raw Stages is a new play festival the History Theatre began three years ago (this was the third festival), and it's a whole lot of fun, but it can be a workout. There were only three and a half scheduled days of rehearsal, four hours each, and while we didn't have to memorize our lines, we did have some blocking to remember. I was in two readings, one called Peace Crimes (Doris Baizley) about eight men who were arrested for destroying draft cards in Minnesota during the Vietnam War, and another called Never In Conflict with Principles (Kimberly Joy Morgan) about a woman named Nellie Stone Johnson, a radical labor organizer who lived to be 98 years old.

The point of the festival is for playwrights and the theatre to get an idea of the possibilities of the play, and any rewrites that need to be done. The audience helps in the process by giving feedback during the talkback after the show. Because these plays involved recent history, some of the people involved attended the performance. For example, I think five of the Minnesota Eight were at Peace Crimes, and people who had known Nellie Stone Johnson personally were at Never In Conflict with Principles. It was cool to know that these people had been (and still are, in some cases) movers and shakers in Minnesota history.

Now I only have one next project in October, and after that I'm unemployed unless something comes up or I make something happen. And I'm going to expect something to come up and make something happen.

Went back to ballet for the first time in...I don't even know how long. Months and months. Kicked my butt. My classmates are trying to get me to get pointe shoes, as I'm the only one who doesn't have any now. (I know, pointe without the pointe shoes is dumb, but I do get something out of it.) We'll see.

In other news, today marks the beginning of a new lifestyle. Exercise every day (I've jumped back into the Intensive Study Program at Zenon), the foods that cause overnight weight gain (cookies, potato chips, etc, and seriously, it's overnight) are leaving the house over the next two days, and sleep will become a priority (no more surfing the internet just because it's there). You all heard it here, feel free to ask me "So...how's that going for ya?"

Random linkage: the Fug Girls covered Fashion Week last week.

I am *so* handy.

I just put together an outdoor stove. Go me!

Now I need a nap, as, suddenly, I'm doing an overnight shoot at Target. But before that I have rehearsal. Long day for Adia.

Holy Crap!

I'm on the internets in unexpected places.

Apparently the dress was at the State Fair this year and will soon be for sale. (I was secretly hoping Rebecca would give it to me, but that was a pipe dream.:))

More: there's a video story (click on the link under the small photo) from KARE 11 about the display at the Fair. I wore that dress first!

Updates:

When I took this photo, I had no idea it would be all over the internet.


And yet, here it is.

It just keeps going.

They've turned on *me* now. (Scroll down to the comments).

I like this one.

There's a pic of the designer, Rebecca on this one. I like this post, too.

Wow.

Quick and Dirty

Paris

Lovely, but I couldn't appreciate it the first day because I was so tired. Flying in World Business Class certainly makes the nine hour flight less heinous, but I still didn't sleep very well. Our hotel was beautiful. There were free nougat candies on the Reception Desk. I took some every time we entered or exited. We were nearly in the center of Paris, about three blocks away from the Louvre. I got to eat lox for breakfast. It was very cold and I really only packed for Barcelona and Madrid: hot weather. Ate a lot of bread and cheese. Saw Mont St. Michel and wished we had spent more time exploring the city streets than taking a tour of the abbey. Saw Notre Dame. Wished tourists would be more respectful of the church aspect of that particular attraction. Ate Nutella crepes outside the cathedral. YUM. Went to the top of the Eiffel Tower with my sister on what was probably the coldest night in Paris in months. Went up to Montmatre and Sacre Coeur at sunset and finally felt like I was in a foreign country. Gave money to cute street musicians, the cutest of which was playing the accordion. THE GARDENS AT VERSAILLES. Needed a whole day to look through and appreciate all of it. Could have spent the rest of the trip there. Really want to go back just for the gardens. Got stared at a lot. Ran through the Louvre, saw the Mona Lisa. It's small. Liked Winged Victory much better. Got on a 12 hour train for Barcelona.

Barcelona

Couldn't quite see why everyone I talked to luuurrrrrves Barcelona. It's a port town with not much more to do than look at architecture. Really great architecture, but not an exciting city. Catalan hurts my head. Antoni Guadi­ is my new boyfriend, and Casa Battlo is where we will live when we get married. (Nevermind him being dead and all.) Wish I could have seen Parc Guell. Five hour train to Madrid.

Madrid

HOT. HOT HOT HOT. After the frigid temperatures in Paris and the moderate humidity of Barcelona, Madrid felt like a brick oven. My dad was miserable, but he would never say that out loud. Stayed in the best hotel yet: the Palace Hotel (run by Westin). Pulled up to the door and a wall of teenagers was blocking the entrance. My sister and I both thought, "Who's staying here?" Turns out it was Argentinean teenage actors. We met up with our exchange student of however many years ago it was, and finally met her parents. We ate with them nearly every meal and got to taste lots of traditional foods. I had to pull the heads off of langostinos (prawns) and got brains all over my plate the first time I tried. Went to two museums: the Prado and the Reina Sofia. The Prado had many paintings, lots of Goya, Velasquez, a temporary exhibit on Picasso, and many others. It was too much like the Louvre and I was bored. Reina Sofia was much more interesting, if the art was less accessible. My sister and I had a small disagreement over modern and post-modern art. She doesn't like it because she can't recognize anything in it. I don't necessarily like it, but I give it a chance before I dismiss it. The one Goya painting that I knew well was there, as well as the Guernica. My new favorite artist (who just died) is Manolo Valdes. Beautiful work. The Palacio Real was opulent on the inside and better preserved than Versailles, but the gardens at Versailles will always be one of my favorite places on Earth. The day we checked out of our hotel, some diplomats arrived. On the way to the train station the front door was guarded by national police, the teenagers were yelling for "Los Rebeldes", and protesters were holding signs against something. We had to fight our way through that to get out. I definitely want to stay there again, but checking the schedule this time to make sure we're there at the same time as someone famous. 13 hour train ride back to Paris.

Traveling

Took a sink bath in my family's hotel, got on the RER to Charles de Galle Airport for 30 minutes, went through security and a shuttle to the terminal for about an hour and a half, eight and a half hour plane ride to Detroit, hour layover in the DTW NWA World Club, hour and a half plane ride to Minneapolis, 45 minute wait for my second bag that never came, 30 minute taxi ride home.

I finally got my toiletries bag this afternoon. If I hadn't been at home and had backup toiletries available, i would have been very angry. Shame on you, Northwest.

I want some candy. And we're in Madrid now.

My sister has unchained and de-padlocked her laptop long enough for me to use it, so I'm sneaking in a post.

I should to mention that we're staying in the same hotel that the Rolling Stones were in a few weeks ago. No one famous is here now, though. Only some actors from some local television show who have a legion of screaming pre-teen fans that camp out in front of the hotel every day all day so we have to shoulder our way through a solid wall of hormones every time we go in or out. But yeah, no one who matters is here now. Except us. :)

We've been hanging out with Maria for the last few days and it's as though we were never apart. My mom has been the main contact between our two families for the last nine years (I said 12 before, but it's really only nine), but we all feel like immediate family anyway. We're going over to their house for dinner this evening. Her mom cooks tasty food. We've eaten there every night since we've been here. Heh.

Tomorrow we head out to the outskirts of the city to visit Maria's mother's village. I think there might be running with bulls. I'm not sure. I'll wear tennis shoes.

Hello from Barcelona

Hello hello. Lanesboro will have to wait.

We - we meaning my mother, father, sister and I - flew into Paris on the morning of the 27th of August. Even though we flew first class and the seats were more like beds, I was still extremely jetlagged when we arrived. I think now that we're in Spain I'm finally on European time.

I'd tell more stories right now, but I don't really feel like typing for a long time. I just wanted you to know I'm still alive. Hooray alive!

We take the train to Madrid tomorrow afternoon to visit our exchange student from about 12 years ago and her family. I haven't seen her since I was a sophomore, so this should be very interesting and exciting.

Ciao.