Acting Journal
1/28/11
Wow. Today's class was both depressing and amazing. We got with a partner and shared a sad experience from the past. We had to take note of the story, the inflection, word choice, and gestures. Then we had to switch stories.
In front of the class.
We had to pretend as if that incredibly painful story from someone else's past was our own. There was so much pressure to do it right. I didn't want to mess up. The other person was in the room with me. How would it be if I did it wrong? If I didn't treat the story with respect and dignity? They would feel terrible. And so would I.
And that children, is what acting is.
We were asked why we had never done that with a script before. I was shocked, because it hadn't even occured to me. Every script, every character is someone with a story that needs to be treated with respect and dignity. It would be shameful to make a mockery of a script or to be insincere.
I feel like this is the biggest lesson I've learned so far. I'm so thankful to Ivan for having us do this. I will try and implement this the next time I go through a script.
January 28, 2011
January 27, 2011
One Can Only Hope
Tech Journal
1/27/11
I am just now getting the feel for how hard my semester is going to be. While in Tech, it's hard to remember that I even have other classes. There's so much I have to worry about and it's getting me down/concerned. I don't always understand what I'm doing.
Rephrase.
I never understand what I'm doing. I know the flat's wrong, I know my drafting is wrong, it's all wrong wrong wrong. I don't know how to change it so I'm just doing the best I can and crossing my fingers. Maybe the hard work I'm putting in is going to be enough.
1/27/11
I am just now getting the feel for how hard my semester is going to be. While in Tech, it's hard to remember that I even have other classes. There's so much I have to worry about and it's getting me down/concerned. I don't always understand what I'm doing.
Rephrase.
I never understand what I'm doing. I know the flat's wrong, I know my drafting is wrong, it's all wrong wrong wrong. I don't know how to change it so I'm just doing the best I can and crossing my fingers. Maybe the hard work I'm putting in is going to be enough.
January 26, 2011
Baboon F*ck
Acting Journal
1/26/11
If I asked someone to tell me about a dream they had, most would, and without difficulty. This was our excercize for class today. After we had told our dreams to a small group, Ivan made us share a positive life experience with about half of the class. This time, one person stood on one side of the room and shared the story to the class, who were all sitting on the other side of the room. The goal was to act (not Act) and have it feel as natural as when we shared our dreams. It was hard for me
When we got into the circle and Ivan asked us what we learned ...I don't remember what I said, but he responded with "why was it easier to talk about your dreams?" and I answered with "well we didn't know we were acting"
I felt really stupid. We weren't acting. That was the point. I'm not sure acting is even a real thing. I think it's more of a group insanity that everyone could be a part of or identify.
Also, in the scene I'm doing with Fred, I get really angry and call him a baboon f*ck. Made my day.
1/26/11
If I asked someone to tell me about a dream they had, most would, and without difficulty. This was our excercize for class today. After we had told our dreams to a small group, Ivan made us share a positive life experience with about half of the class. This time, one person stood on one side of the room and shared the story to the class, who were all sitting on the other side of the room. The goal was to act (not Act) and have it feel as natural as when we shared our dreams. It was hard for me
When we got into the circle and Ivan asked us what we learned ...I don't remember what I said, but he responded with "why was it easier to talk about your dreams?" and I answered with "well we didn't know we were acting"
I felt really stupid. We weren't acting. That was the point. I'm not sure acting is even a real thing. I think it's more of a group insanity that everyone could be a part of or identify.
Also, in the scene I'm doing with Fred, I get really angry and call him a baboon f*ck. Made my day.
January 25, 2011
Whoops
Tech Journal
1/25/11
I've missed a day or two with my journaling. We met in the shop today, and it was kind of like, herereadysetgo. And then we were building things. Amy (hey girl hey) and I seem to work well together. We had no disastrous conflicts or problems. We were the last to finish because we were careful. And Amy forgot her sharpie so we had to wait to label everything.
Class was good, and I'm ready to do more.
1/25/11
I've missed a day or two with my journaling. We met in the shop today, and it was kind of like, herereadysetgo. And then we were building things. Amy (hey girl hey) and I seem to work well together. We had no disastrous conflicts or problems. We were the last to finish because we were careful. And Amy forgot her sharpie so we had to wait to label everything.
Class was good, and I'm ready to do more.
So It Goes...
I haven't been posting for a few things because I've been trying to find out what exactly happened.
Roommate is MIA.
Everything he owned vanished.
His Facebook has been deleted.
His friends can't find him.
He hasn't answered his phone.
Marc came by today, (sans Jimmy) and was astounded to find half of my room barren and no Roommate. Apparently, Marc has had a deal with Roommate that he will sleep there every other day. But for my graciousness Marc would now be homeless.
Here's the timeline as best I can figure out:
12:00 am Roommate, Marc, and Hunter come home. Marc and Hunter to spend the night.
1:00 am Lights out, everyone settles down to sleep.
^^^^^^^^^^ ROOM FOR INTERPRETATION ^^^^^^^^^^^^^
7:30 am I awaken from a terrible sleepbrought on from the nerve gas
8:00 am I leave the room intact, with all other parties still asleep
9:00 am Marc awakens, and leaves sometime within the next half hour
^^^^^^^^^^ ROOM FOR INTERPRETATION ^^^^^^^^^^^^^
9:45 am EVERYTHING IS F*CKING GONE ITS GONE MAN ITS GONE
I spent the better part of that day convinced I was Russell Crowe in A Beautiful Mind. That's pretty much the plot of the whole movie. He was imagining his roommate the whole damn time.
My friends were no help at all. In addition to encouraging the notion that I am schizophrenic, they offered a few more theories.
1. WITNESS PROTECTION. It explains the hasty exit and facebook deletion. The theory suggestor's father works/worked for the government (you didn't hear it from me) and she says if they want you out in 45 minutes THEY GET YOU OUT.
2. IT'S NOT BEAUTIFUL MIND IT'S FIGHT CLUB. I am my roommate. I have no recollection of my experiences as him ir his experiences as me. For some reason, I snapped out of it and suddenly, my 'roommate' was gone.
3. HAZEL DID IT. While not specifically named, my various personalities were implicated in this scenario. My suspicions instantly turned to the most dangerous and crafty of my personas. She's keeping it from me so there's no pressure when the popo come sniffing.
[I have no idea what happened...!]
4. HE JOINED A FRATERNITY. What is potentially the most likely. He does have many friends in fraternities, and that would also explain why I can't see his Facebook...but that would make him a dick. It does not however explain why Marc can't find him...unless Roommate is a BIG dick.
5. HE IS THE PRODUCT OF THE MOST ELUSIVE AND SOUGHT AFTER COUPLE IN THE HISTORY OF THE UNIVERSE.
[That place was called Omaha, Nebraska. They had a son. His name...was Roommate]
Mystery solved.
Roommate is MIA.
Everything he owned vanished.
His Facebook has been deleted.
His friends can't find him.
He hasn't answered his phone.
Marc came by today, (sans Jimmy) and was astounded to find half of my room barren and no Roommate. Apparently, Marc has had a deal with Roommate that he will sleep there every other day. But for my graciousness Marc would now be homeless.
Here's the timeline as best I can figure out:
12:00 am Roommate, Marc, and Hunter come home. Marc and Hunter to spend the night.
1:00 am Lights out, everyone settles down to sleep.
^^^^^^^^^^ ROOM FOR INTERPRETATION ^^^^^^^^^^^^^
7:30 am I awaken from a terrible sleep
8:00 am I leave the room intact, with all other parties still asleep
9:00 am Marc awakens, and leaves sometime within the next half hour
^^^^^^^^^^ ROOM FOR INTERPRETATION ^^^^^^^^^^^^^
9:45 am EVERYTHING IS F*CKING GONE ITS GONE MAN ITS GONE
I spent the better part of that day convinced I was Russell Crowe in A Beautiful Mind. That's pretty much the plot of the whole movie. He was imagining his roommate the whole damn time.
My friends were no help at all. In addition to encouraging the notion that I am schizophrenic, they offered a few more theories.
1. WITNESS PROTECTION. It explains the hasty exit and facebook deletion. The theory suggestor's father works/worked for the government (you didn't hear it from me) and she says if they want you out in 45 minutes THEY GET YOU OUT.
2. IT'S NOT BEAUTIFUL MIND IT'S FIGHT CLUB. I am my roommate. I have no recollection of my experiences as him ir his experiences as me. For some reason, I snapped out of it and suddenly, my 'roommate' was gone.
3. HAZEL DID IT. While not specifically named, my various personalities were implicated in this scenario. My suspicions instantly turned to the most dangerous and crafty of my personas. She's keeping it from me so there's no pressure when the popo come sniffing.
[I have no idea what happened...!]
4. HE JOINED A FRATERNITY. What is potentially the most likely. He does have many friends in fraternities, and that would also explain why I can't see his Facebook...but that would make him a dick. It does not however explain why Marc can't find him...unless Roommate is a BIG dick.
5. HE IS THE PRODUCT OF THE MOST ELUSIVE AND SOUGHT AFTER COUPLE IN THE HISTORY OF THE UNIVERSE.
[That place was called Omaha, Nebraska. They had a son. His name...was Roommate]
Mystery solved.
January 22, 2011
It's Time to Face the Facts
It's time to divulge a secret:
I'm not funny.
I've often been told I'm funny, and I used to think so, until I noticed a few things.
Everyone wins!
I'm not funny.
I've often been told I'm funny, and I used to think so, until I noticed a few things.
The times during which I accept I am funny and the times during which I recieve compliments for even being funny overlap, often between the hours of 2 and 4 in the morning. It seems as though sleep deprivation is indeed a powerful drug. But then, we all knew that.
So I'll make this deal with you: I promise to only write my blog between the hours of 2 and 4 in the morning if and only if you promise only to read it between the hours of 2 and 4 in the morning.
January 21, 2011
What the Hell Guys
Okay so I logged in today, way later than usual, and the post about Roommate's friends has 11 (funny) and 13 (interesting) ratings. What is this. Marc? Jimmy? Is this your doing?
That post was not even meant to be funny.
It's a sad day when the not meant to be funny post gets people laughing more so than the entire rest of the blog.
without further ado:
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Acting Journal
1/21/11
Today's lessons were hard to do and even harder to understand. My body was also not cooperating like it was for other class periods. Today just felt wrong.
It's hard for me to not want to control a scene. I see what everyone else is doing, and then I think, "hey, I'll be different" which pretty much translates to "hey, look how good I am!" I realize now I need to work with my partner. A scene partner. Someone who is equally essential to the scene. I think at this point I need to focus on letting go, because I caught myself even a minute after the grand realization that I was planning my next move.
On the plus side, I felt like I did a great scene with Fred. He came in with an aggressive attitude, and I worked with that well. I had a feeling that I even believed myself. That's the feeling I want to capture; that's how I know I'm doing it right.
That post was not even meant to be funny.
It's a sad day when the not meant to be funny post gets people laughing more so than the entire rest of the blog.
without further ado:
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Acting Journal
1/21/11
Today's lessons were hard to do and even harder to understand. My body was also not cooperating like it was for other class periods. Today just felt wrong.
It's hard for me to not want to control a scene. I see what everyone else is doing, and then I think, "hey, I'll be different" which pretty much translates to "hey, look how good I am!" I realize now I need to work with my partner. A scene partner. Someone who is equally essential to the scene. I think at this point I need to focus on letting go, because I caught myself even a minute after the grand realization that I was planning my next move.
On the plus side, I felt like I did a great scene with Fred. He came in with an aggressive attitude, and I worked with that well. I had a feeling that I even believed myself. That's the feeling I want to capture; that's how I know I'm doing it right.
January 20, 2011
For My Own Safety
Some of Roommate's friends stopped by tonight... without him. They seemed pretty alright. They were a little loud upon entering, but I suppose that's what to expect with frat guys.
Hey, you asked for sarcasm.
So anyway they saw me blogging and asked to be mentioned. I'm doing so because I was alone and I fear them.
Here you have it! Your own post! Everyone say hi to Marc and ...Jimmy? I think it was Jimmy.
yeah, Jimmy...
Hey, you asked for sarcasm.
So anyway they saw me blogging and asked to be mentioned. I'm doing so because I was alone and I fear them.
Here you have it! Your own post! Everyone say hi to Marc and ...Jimmy? I think it was Jimmy.
yeah, Jimmy...
Oh for Pete's sake
1/20/11
Tech Journal
It took me 5 minutes to realize that 201 would be my hardest class. Just something as simple as drafting a rectangle with some more rectangles inside was extremely difficult for me. I suppose it doesn't help that my parallel bar was broken; but then how was I supposed to know? I've never used one of those tables before.
Ed goes really fast and I can't always understand what he's saying, but I feel if I legitimately got lost and fell behind he would go back and come get me. It feels like he really wants us to learn.
This semester is going to kick my butt. I feel sorry for everyone that missed today's class. Good luck. Ha.
Tech Journal
It took me 5 minutes to realize that 201 would be my hardest class. Just something as simple as drafting a rectangle with some more rectangles inside was extremely difficult for me. I suppose it doesn't help that my parallel bar was broken; but then how was I supposed to know? I've never used one of those tables before.
Ed goes really fast and I can't always understand what he's saying, but I feel if I legitimately got lost and fell behind he would go back and come get me. It feels like he really wants us to learn.
This semester is going to kick my butt. I feel sorry for everyone that missed today's class. Good luck. Ha.
January 19, 2011
We're All Men Here
This morning Roommate and I had matching schedules, so we both got up at 7:30...ish. My acting teacher has demanded we wear sweatpants and loose fitting shirts to class so we can stretch properly.
Harsh.
In effect, he gave me a license that ensures I will never get dressed for school ever again.
I do keep at least decent hygene, so certain...aspects...of my garb did need changing. Roommate was also getting ready for the day, and just so happened to turn around as I was entering a lewd state.
[pictured: what must have looked like my lewd state]
He quickly turned around and apologized, and I thought, "Why did you apologize? You should be thanking me!"
Roommate, we both live in this small (albeit bigger than everyone else's) room. We are going to see each other naked every once in a while. If we don't it means one of us isn't sleeping there or is invisible.
[Oh hi, Roommate! When did you get back? And why are you naked?]
But I suppose I need to thank Roommate for being a gracious, friendly person... unlike my previous one. We'll call him Jackhole.
The tale begins with a simple question, asked on the first day of staying in the dorms.
"Hey, do you, like, drink and stuff"
I responded with no, and Jackhole assured me that while he did indulge in the activities common to partying, he wouldn't let it affect me or the room.
Guess whaaaaaaatttt.
Fresh from summer vacation, my sleeping patterns were not as established as they could have been. But four in the morning is not even a real time. If I ever see the number 4 in the first spot on a digital clock, WE HAVE A PROBLEM. I was awoken by furious pounding. I slugged out of bed, oozed to the door, and opened it. There he was, in all his drunken stupor. He left his wallet and phone in some random kid's car. This would set the tone for the semester.
After what must have been 15 differentwhores girlfriends, many keyless and ths sleeples nights, and not paying for 3 months worth of room, he finally got his ass evicted. He left all ALL his crap in the room. For about a month, I was living the easy, no roommate life.
I came home one day and only most of his belongings were gone. Thankfully, he left boxes and boxes of trash and plastic bags lying around. How thoughtful. Glad to be rid of him, I searched for my cologne to freshen up before meeting friends for dinner.
Guess whaaaaaaatttt.
[Not Pictured: Something that belongs to him]
My nice, $70 cologne my sister bought me for Christmas was gone. Stolen. It was a mostly full bottle. A MOSTLY FULL BOTTLE. I was not that terrible of a roommate to him that he had to leave like that. It was if he was saying,
"Haha bitch, now you can't be elegant!"
And it's true. I can't. Without my cologne, I feel like this:
[Pictured: the epitome of elegance]
I guess that's maybe something I should have seen coming from a convicted shoplifter. Jackhole.
Here's to a new semester, Roommate. I hope this semester brings good things for both of us, and that you don't find this blog. Ever. I will talk about you. Frequently.
Harsh.
In effect, he gave me a license that ensures I will never get dressed for school ever again.
I do keep at least decent hygene, so certain...aspects...of my garb did need changing. Roommate was also getting ready for the day, and just so happened to turn around as I was entering a lewd state.
[pictured: what must have looked like my lewd state]
He quickly turned around and apologized, and I thought, "Why did you apologize? You should be thanking me!"
Roommate, we both live in this small (albeit bigger than everyone else's) room. We are going to see each other naked every once in a while. If we don't it means one of us isn't sleeping there or is invisible.
[Oh hi, Roommate! When did you get back? And why are you naked?]
But I suppose I need to thank Roommate for being a gracious, friendly person... unlike my previous one. We'll call him Jackhole.
The tale begins with a simple question, asked on the first day of staying in the dorms.
"Hey, do you, like, drink and stuff"
I responded with no, and Jackhole assured me that while he did indulge in the activities common to partying, he wouldn't let it affect me or the room.
Guess whaaaaaaatttt.
Fresh from summer vacation, my sleeping patterns were not as established as they could have been. But four in the morning is not even a real time. If I ever see the number 4 in the first spot on a digital clock, WE HAVE A PROBLEM. I was awoken by furious pounding. I slugged out of bed, oozed to the door, and opened it. There he was, in all his drunken stupor. He left his wallet and phone in some random kid's car. This would set the tone for the semester.
After what must have been 15 different
I came home one day and only most of his belongings were gone. Thankfully, he left boxes and boxes of trash and plastic bags lying around. How thoughtful. Glad to be rid of him, I searched for my cologne to freshen up before meeting friends for dinner.
Guess whaaaaaaatttt.
[Not Pictured: Something that belongs to him]
My nice, $70 cologne my sister bought me for Christmas was gone. Stolen. It was a mostly full bottle. A MOSTLY FULL BOTTLE. I was not that terrible of a roommate to him that he had to leave like that. It was if he was saying,
"Haha bitch, now you can't be elegant!"
And it's true. I can't. Without my cologne, I feel like this:
[Pictured: the epitome of elegance]
I guess that's maybe something I should have seen coming from a convicted shoplifter. Jackhole.
Here's to a new semester, Roommate. I hope this semester brings good things for both of us, and that you don't find this blog. Ever. I will talk about you. Frequently.
Double Entendre
As some are aware, I am a student of the Theatre. As such, I am expected to do crazy things like put hard work into what I do. One of these works is to keep journals for both my Acting and Tech classes. I may just go ahead and keep these journals on this here blog.
Actually that's exactly what I'm going to do. I knew that before I even sat down to type this.
Joke's.
On.
You.
It's hard to keep humor out of my day to day things, (I am just so gosh darn funny all the gosh darn time) so you may (?) delight in what I have to say.
But it's probably going to be boring.
SO:
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
1/19/11
Acting Journal Entry
I like the stretches we do to start off class. I really like the one in which I tuck my right foot under my left knee and then twist, and then Tony helps push me over and causes strange things to pop. It was both relaxing and mortifying. When Ian said I looked about another foot taller, I didn't believe him. When I looked in the mirror, I saw my back was straighter and my posture was better. Ususally, I have to try and sort of puff up my chest and force my shoulders back, which does indeed look awkward.
However it wasn't long after we stopped stretching that my body was like,
"Well that was fun. Hrrrnngh!!"
Then it rolled up into a tiny, unrelaxed ball, which was the same way I brought it to class.
[my body during workout stretches]
[my body before and after workout stretches]
I want to keep doing this. It feels good, and hopefully I can eventually condition the nice, folded laundry body to become natural.
Actually that's exactly what I'm going to do. I knew that before I even sat down to type this.
Joke's.
On.
You.
It's hard to keep humor out of my day to day things, (I am just so gosh darn funny all the gosh darn time) so you may (?) delight in what I have to say.
But it's probably going to be boring.
SO:
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
1/19/11
Acting Journal Entry
I like the stretches we do to start off class. I really like the one in which I tuck my right foot under my left knee and then twist, and then Tony helps push me over and causes strange things to pop. It was both relaxing and mortifying. When Ian said I looked about another foot taller, I didn't believe him. When I looked in the mirror, I saw my back was straighter and my posture was better. Ususally, I have to try and sort of puff up my chest and force my shoulders back, which does indeed look awkward.
However it wasn't long after we stopped stretching that my body was like,
"Well that was fun. Hrrrnngh!!"
Then it rolled up into a tiny, unrelaxed ball, which was the same way I brought it to class.
[my body during workout stretches]
[my body before and after workout stretches]
I want to keep doing this. It feels good, and hopefully I can eventually condition the nice, folded laundry body to become natural.
January 18, 2011
Just Kidding!
It took me all of thirty minutes to realize that Blogger is not only easier to use, but it doesn't impede on my creative process like Wordpress. Howdy, Grantley indeed. It also seems to let me design my pages, which is just simply the bee's knees.
The previous post was a repost from the -wait for it- now inactive Wordpress blog. I am fickle.
The previous post was a repost from the -wait for it- now inactive Wordpress blog. I am fickle.
Salutations
Why, yes, just stating salutations is in fact a proper greeting. How impolite of you to doubt me.
This appears to be my first post of my first blog. I say appears because it is entirely possible that I sleep blog on another site. Probably Blogger. It is also possible one of my other personalities has one and won’t tell me about it. Yeah. That’s totally something Bubbe Hazel would do.
[Pictured: the face of deception]
Anyway, as I was making this blog, I noticed a few key things. The box I needed to check to make this was not called I agree to the Terms and Service, but instead the box was oh so cleverly titled Legal Flotsam, and I thought, thank you. Thank you, WordPress, for not holding me to the unrealistic expectations of other companies. Like Apple. You know what I’m talking about.
As I continued on my way to blogdom, I grew concerned. The Login says Howdy, Grant and the default first post was called Hello World! How DARE you, WordPress, it is in fact my job MY JOB to be clever. Get away with your cutesy wootsey language and your pretentious face. My job.
So pretty much every post will be like this, not really entertaining. I’m hoping to get a rating of “slightly amusing” and maybe some of you will make this your homepage so it doesn’t take any work to get here. Because I know you, dear target demographic. I know the astounding levels of laziness for which you strive.
Hugs,
Grantley
This appears to be my first post of my first blog. I say appears because it is entirely possible that I sleep blog on another site. Probably Blogger. It is also possible one of my other personalities has one and won’t tell me about it. Yeah. That’s totally something Bubbe Hazel would do.
[Pictured: the face of deception]
Anyway, as I was making this blog, I noticed a few key things. The box I needed to check to make this was not called I agree to the Terms and Service, but instead the box was oh so cleverly titled Legal Flotsam, and I thought, thank you. Thank you, WordPress, for not holding me to the unrealistic expectations of other companies. Like Apple. You know what I’m talking about.
As I continued on my way to blogdom, I grew concerned. The Login says Howdy, Grant and the default first post was called Hello World! How DARE you, WordPress, it is in fact my job MY JOB to be clever. Get away with your cutesy wootsey language and your pretentious face. My job.
So pretty much every post will be like this, not really entertaining. I’m hoping to get a rating of “slightly amusing” and maybe some of you will make this your homepage so it doesn’t take any work to get here. Because I know you, dear target demographic. I know the astounding levels of laziness for which you strive.
Hugs,
Grantley
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