ok fine i’ll write about martial arts and stuff 

You got me, Universe or whatever. I’ll write about it. Mainly because I need to get it out of my brain. I can only talk about it outloud so much before people’s eyes glaze over. No, you don’t understand! I really need an outlet, so you are it, blog.

It really shouldn’t be so hard to just throw this stuff onto a page, but I have worked myself into knots thinking I’d be capable of just shutting up and silently doing my own thing. But I can’t, okay? I am not capable of that. I’ll freak out. This stuff is just so endlessly fascinating. I could talk about it for DAYSSSSSSS 😍. 

And if you want to know the truth, I’m kinda constantly thinking about my various practices. It’s always on my mind.

Sometimes it’s how they work together. Sometimes it’s just sheer confusion of how can I get better at this thing I’m still not good at? Sometimes it’s the surprise I feel when I lost something I had down. And sometimes it’s the ease with which I’m able to jump back into it and beyond. It changes.

But I guess I’ll just start by starting…

THESE THOUGHTS ARE FREEFORM RAMBLINGS BY AN AMATEUR!! I’m just gonna go off but like I can’t be thinking every two seconds about how someone is going to evaluate me on how or what I say so anyway… the grammar and my terminology and all this stuff probably needs work thanks

So, I do Ashtanga now. I remember reading this comment on instagram by Sharath Jois (head of the main school, grandson of the founder) who was {paraphrasing here} saying how sometimes you can do a certain really hard posture and sometimes you can’t. He was saying how your practice morphs and changes.

I’m kind of obsessed with certain things like tai chi. But you know really I should say internal martial arts because I practice more than tai chi. I guess I could say energy centric practice like my teacher. I just like to say “tai chi” because I think most folks have a close enough reference point. Oh, but they don’t know… 

If they only knew!

That’s so annoying to say because everyone who is new to something has no idea. Gah, where do I get off? The experience of practicing tai chi tho, it’s like… It’s just really really cool. Really eye opening like whaaat? Like this whole time this is available to us? Why? How? Wtf? Yes, I think about this hourly. Ah, if only I got paid for these thoughts I’d be like Scrooge McDuck swimming in my gold coin swimmimg pool. 

Anyway, today I was really getting down on myself because I’ve sorta been lazy and not practicing as diligently as I usually do. I get this way with writing too. I think about it all the time and then if you don’t have a project you kind of scare yourself into thinking that writing is hard and onerous and you don’t have enough time to do what you want to do with it. All true. So so so very true… 😭

I had an “ohhhhhhhh THIS is why teachers tell you to never stop practicing do something everyday even if it’s a little bit” kind of realization (not new, I have these once a month if not more frequently). Man, it sure does takes a second to get back to where you were. I think you gotta be really diligent and humble and nonexpectant about it when you jump back in.

When I went off to school for a dramatic writing program I’d been doing martial arts for a year and some change. It didn’t happen overnight, but slowly my skill, my athleticism, physique, etc., etc., began to shift because my priorities changed. I had to focus on writing and recovering from the writing. In retrospect, being more disciplined about my practice might have helped me roll with writing shit that comes up and school stuff, but ah well so it goes. I didn’t do that then.

When I moved back, I expected to jump back in with all my skill in tact like hey! READY! Nope. Did not work that way. It took months and maybe YEARS to get and surpass where I was when I left. Gah! Never again!

Things are shifting again. I no longer have a school or even a regular time that I practice at. This is a problem. I am worried about losing what I have gained through focused yet short practice. So I must get it back.

What I thought about today is how with writing whenever I feel like shit this is not working, how just doing something that I truly love –like have so much fun doing, brings me back. Recallibrates me. Today, I was like no, i HAVE to do tai chi during my lunch hour. Say what you like, but I can take at least 20-30 minutes and do a couple things with that. 

I did some of the stuff I usually do like I often start with a timed quiet standing. I time it so I don’t have to think about whether I’ve done it long enough. But really I do it so I can make sure I can still feel something when I do energy centric practice. I do 2 minutes though I feel something instantly in my forearms. Cool, checkmark. Then I just see if I can extend the feeling beyond my forearms. I try that until I figure out that my timer is going off and I’m not paying attention to it. I move on to something harder to do after this. Well, harder for me to do at least…

I ran through the whole Zheng Manqing 37 form. I usually don’t do that. I pick out a section or postures. Sometimes a sequence. I don’t always do the form as a whole because I feel more of a sustained stronger charge when I do postures or drills. When I do the whole thing, there are parts that are somewhat physically challenging while trying to do what I’m trying to do. At those points, I can lose my charge and literally be going through the motions. Not fun. I am less interested in that. It’s just not my thing to go through choreography. Which is why I do smaller sized movements and try to go deeper with them. 

So here was the learning today– I can get trapped into thinking that because I usually get what I’m looking for from the shorter practices that I should just concentrate that for my practice. Like when I’m really diligent with a certain drill or sequence, I can get a lot out of it. It’s not beginner’s luck, this happens every time I practice. Then, I go through a form and get overly critical about the parts that I’m not that great at. Like in this ZMQ37, I’m really not good at the whole Weaving Lady part AND IT PISSES ME OFF!! Okay, well, maybe it’s not that serious, but I don’t get much there energy wise as I do in other parts of the form. Which is totally fine except that I’m a perfectionist, haha… No but, going through the whole form was interesting. It got me thinking about different aspects I hadn’t considered and ways I could revamp my training.

Then I did some xingyi and so that is always been hardest for me, but I like to see where I can get with it. I did this drill from one of my teacher’s recent books and I’m like huh, I think I’m getting better at this! I feel more of what I think I’m supposed to be feeling. 

The thing is that today, while not necessarily a sort of omg I made such amazing discoveries!! 😍sort of moment, it was nice to just do the form and experience what popped up as I tried my best.

All this to say, that sometimes with getting back into practice, it’s good to just do it and pick something you either really enjoy doing or you know gets you results. 

Okay, I can pause here… For now. 

San Francisco Olympians Festival– support a new play I’m developing 

San Francisco Olympians Festival– support a new play I’m developing 

I was trying to think of the various ways to share the indiegogo for the San Francisco Olympians Festival, which is ending soon. I came up with a couple things on facebook. Ways to illistrate its importance to me and how it helps to foster an artistic theater community here in San Francisco. Then, today in the eleventh hour, I thought of my blog. 

Normally the way I communicate with you all here reading is by short story and poetry. As you’ve probably already noticed, I’ve been sharing a little something every day and it’s developed into a practice for me. Originally I felt like I needed to carve out something for myself with the lowest possible stakes so that I could share my creativity — specifically creative writing– with more people. I suppose because I get nervous about using my voice some times. I worry what other people think. I do. No excuses, that’s where I’ve been at. But the amazing thing is how using this “little bit a day” approach has helped me improve my confidence and become more self-empowered. 

I started this off because I needed a place where I could write freely. Where the writing could come naturally without any imposition by deadlines or writing contests or grandiose, ambitious ideas about publishing, producing, or rallying for my work in any way, shape or form.

A surprising thing happened.

People started listening.

People started following. Liking my stuff. Commenting and thanking me for doing what I do. This still baffles me. I’m not sure why. Maybe it doesn’t matter. And maybe the discomfort that I feel about it is okay.

I want to let you know that if you’ve read even one word or looked at some of my pictures or found some joy, support, or meaning in anything that I’ve put out there, I am truly grateful and thankful for that. It really does mean more than I can express in words. I’m touched.

So, what’s prompting me to say all this is that if you look at the rest of the site, you’ll see it’s kind of under construction in the sense that I haven’t yet put in plays I’ve written and pictures from productios, readings, etc. I don’t always share what I’ve done or what I’m working on and I want to get better at that. At this point, I feel okay in continuing to move forward and express that even though my hands are shaking, I have a knot in my stomach and it sort of feels like I’m going to cry. Don’t worry, I cry easily. I have tissue. 🙂 

Later on, I’m probably going to either read this and cringe — potentially resisting the urge to delete or make private this post. I may laugh because there’s a part of me even now that recognizes that this is really no big deal. It’s just another step. Even though lately my life has been feeling like I’ve been leveling up and yet struggling to manage that.

All this to say that I do have something to share with you. It’s that I’m co-writing a play with a friend of mine, Julie Jigour, that is inspired by the ancient Greek god, Thanatos, the god of benevolent death. I think of him kind of like the Grim Reaper, but less scary. Like he touches you, you die peacefully perhaps. Anyway, we’re writing this story that we intend to be serialized at some point. It’s a mystery where Thanatos has been having these dream-visions that he shares with his twin, Hypnos. Now Hypnos up until this point has been able to sleep and dream, but something happened to make them not work the way they used to. Julie and I think it has to do with their sisters who are goddesses of violent death. So, in a way, it’s a crime mystery. They need to remedy the past in some type of way. We’re also playing with the idea of alternative timelines/realities and past/future realities as well. 

It’s very complex. Mainly, we’re just trying to go with the flow and be kinda stream of consciousness about it. 

 

crow flying
Thanatos is also known as the black-winged god.
 
That reading will happen October 15th at EXIT Theatre in San Francisco. It’s a part of the San Francisco Olympians Festival and was commissioned by them. So many of you live far a way, but I did want to share that I’m doing this. It’s exciting! 

And if you wanted to support not only mine and Julie’s play, you could do so by giving a gift here, in these last few days.

This festival is not only a great place for community, but it’s brought to life SO many new works and artists. It’s an incredible feat to have done in the past six years andit runs on very minimal costs. It’s one of the few writing opportunities I’ve had that pays me and other artists for creating. Not much, but to even be recognized in this way means a lot. It saysthe work you put into this matters. And it does. Art has the power to change lives…

I’ll leave it there for now, but I am going to try to post more about projects I’m working on. Take this as the start (or a deeper continuation of what already existed, if you prefer) of this endeavor.
Thank you for reading! Thank you for listening!

The Real World – Theater Edition: Britney Frazier

The Real World – Theater Edition: Britney Frazier

Had to share this interview. 

Whenever I have moments of these moments of self doubt, I need to do as Brit:

This is the advice I give myself: Keep the faith. Believe in you. People say sh*t, good and bad people say sh*t. Don’t let it make or break your spirit. Please yourself first and no matter what, keep writing. Pay attention to what feelings come up when you are writing. When you as the writer are feeling sensitive about something in your piece, explore it, it’s gold.

The reading of her play Dysphoria: An Apache Dance happens this weekend at MoAD. 

***

Barbara Jwanouskos interviews Britney Frazier. I heard about Britney Frazier before I ever met her, when taking acting classes at Laney College under Michael Anthony Torres’ direction. I knew that she was an amazing actor — and then I got to see her in a play. Wow, blown away. As an actor, Britney brings so […]

https://sftheaterpub.wordpress.com/2016/02/19/the-real-world-theater-edition-britney-frazier/

post-it poem

post-it poem

I’ve been diligently working to *have* inspiration (as if you can really have it, it just comes…), but nada. 

You know, write these little plays or moments to share. 

Something new. 

Anyway, I had some great ideas, but nothing that really grabbed me and was like, “no, we’re not leaving until you wtite us down”. 
But then I started composing these little poems in my mind, these little strings of words together in my head and going to myseld, “oh hey, that’s pretty good, I like how that sounds or how it makes me feel”. I was about to write one down when another snuck up on me!

I had this song in my head and didn’t remember the name, only that there was a chance I’d sorted it into one of my Spotify folders. Sure enough, there it was. Btw, if you get a chance to watch the video (which I just saw for the first time just now), isn’t that strange and beautiful?

Anyway, I find the song and something tells me to grab a post-it and a pen. Then, poem.

  
 
It says…

Back in the days

we used to play by ocean breeze

Tree leaves woven in my hair

Do you remember the time we sat and laughed?

It wasn’t long ago…

So there’s a little something for today.

I have to chuckle after I read it over again because you can tell I’m a DJ at heart and get all these songs in my head and with words like “Back in the days” (or this one!) and “do you remember the time?” 

It makes me think of the different songs and words I’ve heard before and make connections. But I also think of the music and the melodies. They are what bring me from one place to another. It takes me longer to learn the words. And so who knows, there’s probably other stuff in the poem above that I haven’t realized are song lyrics from another time when I listened to it before.

Here you go! 

Oh, and here’s one more song that’s been on my mind lately…

unedited scene from the bike play

I haven’t really felt like sharing, but then I thought, fuck it, I got nothing to lose (except for my 14 views–don’t go!). 

Anyway, I was trying to think of what scene to post to round this off. There’s one where Ella is teaching Jamie how to be seductive, that one’s good. Or another that’s Joe and Jamie admiring the stars. I never thought I’d pick this one, but after reading it again, I was like, “yeah, I’m okay with this.”

Sure, there’s some formatting things I’d do — like Rob Handel and a couple others convinced me not to write (beat) anymore, so I’d take that out. I like the look of open space on the page. I wouldn’t feel the need to describe what Ella and Jamie and Joe– how they should react. Because I could leave that open. That would be better. 

But here it is, unedited, for your enjoyment. Then I’ll go onto the next thing maybe or linger around with this play, who knows.

If you want to read the whole thing though, send me a note. 

barbara dot jwan at gmail
SCENE TWELVE:

Bakersfield, California
(JAMIE and ELLA sit at a table in a cafe. A stranger wearing sunglasses, JOE, listens at the next table over. He strums a guitar.)
JAMIE

I’m saying it’s not realistic.
ELLA

What makes it not real?
JAMIE

Well, for one, everyone’s gonna know what it is.
(ELLA plays with her lighter.)
ELLA

Who’s gonna know?
JAMIE

Everyone.

ELLA

Who?
JAMIE

Everyone!
ELLA

Who?
(A beat. JAMIE gives up.)
ELLA

No one knows we’re here. Look at me. Hey!
(JAMIE looks.)
ELLA

No one knows we’re doing this. No one even follows the Tour of California.
JAMIE

People follow it.
ELLA

Who?
JAMIE

People!
ELLA

They don’t matter. And if they did, they’d be too busy watching the races anyway.
JAMIE

Stages.
ELLA

How much money you got?
JAMIE

Less than you.
ELLA

Okay, fine.
(ELLA takes out a wallet from her purse and counts how much money she has.)
JAMIE

What makes you so sure anyway?
ELLA

I got a guy.
JAMIE

A guy? What do you mean – like someone to buy this bike? What the fuck does that mean?
ELLA

Exactly. Just chill, Jamie, you’re raising your voice.
(ELLA looks over at JOE. She smiles, eye-flirting with him.)
JAMIE

You trust him?
ELLA

Who?
JAMIE

Your guy.
ELLA

Of course. He says we can sell it in TJ for 18.
JAMIE

18.
ELLA

Yep.
JAMIE

Are you fucking serious? How long you gonna keep this up?
(ELLA flicks her lighter on the table in a sort of “fuck you” motion. JAMIE sits back.)
JAMIE

You are.
ELLA 

(Whispers – leaning in)

Of course I am, Jamie. What do you think? That this is some type of joke? That I don’t know what I’m doing? Of course I know. I’m planning this whole thing, remember? You’re just along for the ride, right. Or are you in. It’s not a fucking game anymore. This is it. You gotta make some decisions.
JAMIE 

(Shaking her head)

Wow.
(ELLA looks at her cell phone.)
ELLA

You got ten minutes. I’m gonna use the toilet. Think about it. Think about whether you’re in or out.
(ELLA leaves the table. JOE watches her go; he tries to scribble something down in a notebook in front of him. His pen doesn’t work.)
JAMIE 

(Mutters to herself)

Fuck…
(JOE leans over towards JAMIE’S table.)
JOE

Got a light.

JAMIE

Huh?
(JOE points to the lighter on the table.)
JAMIE

Oh…
(JAMIE pushes ELLA’s lighter across the table. JOE lights the tip of his pen. He smiles at JAMIE then begins to write again. The pen works.)
JOE

Never seen that? 
(beat.)

If your pen’s not working but you can see it still has ink in it, you can put the tip in a flame. It’ll heat up the ink and start flowing again.
(JOE hands the lighter back to JAMIE.)
JAMIE

Oh… thanks
(JOE nods. He plucks a few chords on the guitar.)
JOE

That’s a trick that comes in handy.
(The sound of wind.)
JOE

Where you from?
JAMIE

What?
JOE

It’s like I don’t speak English or something. Where You From? Here? 
JAMIE

No.
JOE

There we go. Didn’t think so. Up north , right?
JAMIE

Yeah… That’s right.
(JOE nods.)
JOE

Ukiah?
JAMIE

Santa Rosa.
(JOE nods. He plucks a few more chords.)
JOE

Where you headed?
JAMIE

South. You always talk to strangers?
JOE

Yep. Mexico?
JAMIE

Were you listening to us just now?
JOE

Sure was.
JAMIE

I’m not sure yet. Where we’re headed.
JOE

What’s your name?
JAMIE

(Sings, experimenting with different notes)

Jamie. Jamie. Jamie.
JAMIE

What’s yours?
(beat.)

Hey, what’s yours? You gotta name? Everyone has a name. What am I supposed to do, call you Joe Schmoe?
JOE

Sure, you can call me Joe. 
(beat.)

I don’t mind. Good as any other name.

(beat.)

You know, if I were you, I’d part it out.
(JAMIE looks at him blankly.)
JOE

The bike. You’d get more money that way. Plus who’d be able to tell what it was originally?
(JAMIE goes white.)
JOE

Don’t worry. I’m not going to tell. I could care less really. You want to hear something? Hold on.
(He tunes the guitar. Plays a couple cords. He hums the melody then sings, accompanying himself on guitar.)
Let me have my memories without

    Those lavender tinted dreams curved

    Around my nighttime bed I’d be like

    Pigeons wandering the streets aimlessly

    Striving to simplify my life with wishes

    

I envy those who can make their beds

In soft feathers lining nests warmed

By carefree times gold glinting sideways

And back-alley paths near Lake Tahoe

I’d be free to lightly trace their

Silhouettes and shadows upon my eyes
Forgetful the next morning watching

Traffic wind silky paths of stars

Before the sun rises to greet me

Could my smile twinkle forest green

Solemnity and sever the bond
With an ambivalent shrug?
JAMIE

Huh.
(JOE continues to strum and hum.)
JOE

What are you afraid of?
JAMIE

What? I’m not afraid. Who said that?
JOE

People who are defensive are always afraid of something.
JAMIE

You think so?
(JOE nods, then looks at her and smiles.)
JOE

Yep.
JAMIE

Okay, so I’m scared.
JOE

Told you.
JAMIE

Why’m I telling you about it?
JOE

I don’t know. Maybe you need someone to talk to? She doesn’t seem like the confiding type…
JAMIE

Maybe…
(beat.)

Hey, what if I told you something?
JOE

I’d listen. That’s what I do.
JAMIE

(Whispers)

This girl. That girl I was just with. We’re friends, right? And she’s gonna sell- something and it could be worth a bit of money. We’ve been all around the state making videos. Posting them. We blew up. We’re this big thing now.
JOE

Sounds like fun. Like trouble.
JAMIE

It is. A whole mess of trouble. We’re not gonna wiggle out of this one. I can tell you that right now.
JOE

You think so?
JAMIE

I know so. It’s all over the internet.
JOE

Ah… the bike banditas. I’ve heard of you. 
JAMIE

Yeah? You have?
JOE

Everyone has.
JAMIE

See that’s what I’m saying. That’s the problem.
JOE

Is it?
JAMIE

Cuz we’re gonna get caught eventually.
JOE

Not if you ditch it.
JAMIE

We’ll see. That’s what Ella wants to do. I’ve wanted to all along, but she keeps holding on til the last second. I’d never tell her, but I actually kinda enjoy it. The journey that is. But at the same time, I have to be the voice of reason. Ella thinks too grandiose. Too big picture. She forgets the details. Like that this is a felony. Like that we could end up in jail. Like that 18,000 dollars is a lot of money and where do you get that kinda money outta nowhere anyway?
JOE

People make money in weird ways.
JAMIE

Tell me about it.
JOE

So what are you gonna do?
JAMIE

(Sighs)

Keep on going along for the ride, I guess. See what happens.
JOE

Even though you know what does?
(JAMIE shrugs.)
JAMIE

What else am I gonna do?
JOE

Oh, I don’t know. There’s a lot of things you could do.
(ELLA enters. She stands behind JAMIE, looking at JOE, who smiles at her.)
ELLA

Who’s this?
JAMIE

Oh, hey Ella.
(beat.)

Wouldn’t say his name.
ELLA

Why not? Is it so scary we can’t handle it?
JOE

Something like that.
ELLA

Must be a pretty terrible name… Well, I’m Ella. And you’ve already met Jamie, I see. We gotta run. Right, Jamie?
(She stares at JAMIE who returns her gaze.)
JAMIE

Uh… right.
JOE

Where you guys going?
ELLA

LA. Disneyland. Maybe Mexico.
JOE

Can I join you? Trying to get back home.
JAMIE

Where’s that?
ELLA

Yeah, sure… you can come.
(beat.)

What’d you say your name was again?
JOE

You can call me Joe.
ELLA

Okay, Joe Schmoe, should we go?
JOE

Yes, we should.

***

Play List

Mini play list for you all riffing of the song obsessions post.

So, of course (again)

This and this.

Here are a couple of other songs that I was feeling when I wrote i stole lance armstrong’s bike

Wild Horses – this is not the original, but I like her voice and that drifty, far-off quality is more like the mood of my play. Though, Rolling Stones, I mean, come on. This is a great song.

Some Velvet Morning

You getting the idea that this play is a modern western? There’s lots of landscape and expansiveness. 

Also, Pat Parra did the music for the first reading back in 2010. I’ll see if I still have those recordings somewhere, but until then, here’s one of his tracks with a music video directed by his brother who is a filmmaker, Danilo Parra.

This one has not much to do with the above songs and is just a song I like (but probably also more related to a different play for a future post)

The Man Who Sold The World

I have song obsessions. This is one of them.

This song relates to i stole lance armstrong’s bike in that it was the impetus for the whole play. I will share that next, but first, a really long digression… 

I warned you.

Of course, I felt tremendously sad to hear the news of David Bowie. A friend put it best – and I’m paraphrasing but she said whenever there was a report of another celebrity death in the back of her mind she’d go, “Please not David Bowie.” I could relate to that.

You know, sometimes you think the stars are going to go out with a bang – and sometimes they do, but I think it’s equally as sad when the page just turns and poof, they’re gone… Like, “Bowie? Oh, yeah, he’s not here any more.” Well, that sucks. Not that things and people and places can last forever, but you know…

When I was first starting to get into collecting records, I found Ziggy Stardust in a dusty dollar bin underneath the main stacks at this record store, Streetlight, in San Jose. I didn’t know what it was or really anything about David Bowie at that point except for The Labyrinth – which is another obsession from back when I was a little kid. I listened to the album and over and over again. I guess I was in my late teens or something.

It’s funny because though this post is about song obsessions and about the beginnings of i stole lance armstrong’s bike specifically, I could actually weave this song into my other work too.

In my punk play, a character is introducing a song and says something along the lines of, “I was about to tell you that I wrote this song during a very difficult time in my life, but then, when have times ever been easy?”

That is a quintessential feeling I get from listening to The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars and Low. And that is who David Bowie is to me. I was depressed and listening to David Bowie’s music often moved me through those feelings. 

So, yeah, this song, I’m obsessed with. I love it when Bowie sings it and I love it when Kurt Cobain sings it.

For me, song obsession is kinda like this– I’m modifying a little what the character Biz said in a play I wrote, It’s All In The Mix.

BIZ: I just thought of this song. I knew I’d have to play it at some point during the day. I mean, really, I’m probably gonna have to play this song a couple more times before I feel past it. And that’s the thing too cuz I could be playing this for weeks. Or months. Finding a way to work it into every mixtape, every time I play a club or party… Cuz if I got really obsessed with it, I’d be trying to figure out a way to work it intoeverything I do. I’d be with my friends like “(David Bowie) is the shit!” Just claiming it, I’d know that’s it. That feeling. The song. It’d be me by then. My motto for life…

The Man Who Sold The World…

Sometimes in generative writing workshops, the instructor will ask you to think of what your play sounds or tastes or smells like. Like my first playwriting teacher, Naomi Iizuka, would say this and you would free write for a while with just whatever popped. I started with a desk, a desire to write something new, an idea about a bike theft, and this song.

I played this song and it would run out so I’d play it some more. And then, I’d play another version. 

A monologue resulted, but more than that, I could see, feel, and touch the world of my play within my mind. And I knee exactly how it would feel to be in that space at that time with those people.

This monologue was first and I kept on writing around it, completely or mostly out of order. It was more or less the equivalent of a sketch when I passed it onto another teacher, Octavio Solis, who asked how I wrote it. I said that I just wrote it as it came to me. He said “what if you put it in order?” Huh! I hadn’t thought of that.

So, I did. And this monologue which was first, and was originally a letter, moved to the middle. I’ve edited and shaped it a bit along with everything else.

But the songs…

Okay, so have you seen these live versions?

I personally prefer these acoustic ones – one sung by David Bowie and the other by Kurt Cobain.

And so recently I’ve been thinking that maybe I will sing songs for people. Live. But for realsies, not just karaoke. And maybe I will do my version of this song. Of course, I would like create my own music too. Like if I made an opera it would sound like that harmonizing haunting part at the end.

 I can’t seem to find any good versions by female singers, except for this one with a theramin. So maybe I should create what I want to see and experience. I think I’d aim for more like those acoustic ones above though. And that definitely feels like the spirit of i stole lance armstrong’s bike

Oh, this one is really interesting too. Dark, kinda like a sci-fi noir film soundtrack or something. It would have really gone well with this radio show I used to have called Miz Scarlet in the Lounge with the Turntables. 

And there’s this epic on on SNL with Klaus Nomi. They used to have the whole version up, but this one with the intro and frame will have to do.

So now, the monologue from i stole lance armstrong’s bike.

I don’t know why this song illicited this monologue, but it did, so I’m going with it. Even though now the song reminds me more about this recent writing than it does angst. Says on wikipedia that the song was alluding to multiple identies, but I thought it was just a memory of a person from another lifetime. 

But isn’t this interesting?

“I guess I wrote it because there was a part of myself that I was looking for. Maybe now that I feel more comfortable with the way that I live my life and my mental state (laughs) and my spiritual state whatever, maybe I feel there’s some kind of unity now. That song for me always exemplified kind of how you feel when you’re young, when you know that there’s a piece of yourself that you haven’t really put together yet. You have this great searching, this great need to find out who you really are.” — David Bowie

This monologue is towards the middle. They’ve met this busker they call Joe Schmoe. And there’s this sort of power/attraction triangle going on. Like I said, originally this was a letter she sent to another character who was never in the play. So I played with it more in the editing process.
JAMIE:

I can’t take the despair anymore. It’s too much and it’s enveloping me like a snake. I can feel it coiling around my body my stomach and my throat and I have nowhere else to turn. How else to get out of this 4 by 4 space with her there judging every move every thought every action turns into something I regret. How do I get out of this place?  

We’re in the desert now making our way back to civilization and time seems to be speeding up infinitesimally exponentially. It’s growing without end. I see no end in sight. She looks at me waiting for me to break. I look back defying that will. I will not break, you see. That’s something she doesn’t see. 

I could never understand what she wanted with it. Why travel this far. Why not ditch it? At anytime we could and she holds onto it. Holds it over me. I can’t take it anymore. She’s getting to me. I’m starting to think that maybe I’m crazy or that maybe she is. I’m not sure which one of us is right. So maybe it means we both aren’t.

Behold me, Ella. I am the carrier of the wind of change. I will be here and propel myself in front of the car Ella drives with Lance Armstrong’s bike in the back seat tire sticking out the window. I am the change that she didn’t see coming. I will force my way out of this trap. This cage. This prison. She doesn’t realize what a power she’s messing with. But I know. You know, you’ve seen it. And could vouch for me if I needed you to, right?

I’m open. At your beckon call. Without you I’d go blind.

*****