Hippy Dipster - Post Nap
Well Sir Bloggeroony, here we are at date number 2 and I am already suffering from that paralyzing fear that I will run out of things to say. Not that I am ever really in danger of running out of things to say even if there are times when I should stop talking altogether. I think perhaps trudging through this cold stoic city of urban winter has slightly frozen my mind and face making everything I say sound like sofrhwurnbly.
But maybe not.
Maybe I am just hoping that conjuring images of a frozen metropolitan tundra would be a metaphorical way to segue into my new obsession of the week; Wakefulness. I have of late been indulging my occasional flaky side (the one that likes yoga and tempeh…my friend Claire just called me a hippy dipster) by spending some time in contemplation of new agey/spiritually philosophical theory (although If you think about them they are actually quite ancient age concepts but I digress) and the recurring theme is that of wakefulness as in our minds, souls etc.. in layman’s terms; Stop the zombie-itis. I was thinking about wakefulness as I sat through a few pieces of theatre this week of varying styles and varying levels of “irritating me to death” and yet I barely moved. I couldn’t even muster the wherewithal to mime the gesture of hanging myself. It was as if the combination of boredom, winter and too many layers of clothes was lulling me into a semi-catatonic state and I thought am I the “dream audience” or am I dreaming I am in the audience? And if so what did I eat last night that conjured this unfortunate vision?
Maybe I should only watch theatre in the winter purely for the sake of others. The cold seems to act like Valium. I now understand the theory about war and hot countries.
However, maybe I want to be hot and bothered (not in the pornographic sense). Maybe I want to feel things while I am watching a show. Maybe I want to sweat a little. Maybe I want to something interesting to snap me out of the winter blues. Maybe I want more jokes. Maybe you should want that as well.
Maybe we should just throw on some warm coats and take a stroll in the tundra and try our hands at interesting conversation instead of sacrificing ourselves to some unworthy
Tent or Large Pillow - you be the judge
theatre. Or maybe we should just stay in the beer tent and replace our blood with hot toddies.
Enough of that morose brain fart. Here is a hilarious game I came up with. Type a weird phrase into YouTube and see what pops up. I tried “Theatre is Life”
Sock puppets make everything better.
Hugging you for that extra second too long
Lindy
SummerWorks Theatre Festival 