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
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