"Prophesy to the breath! Prophesy, son of man, and say to the breath, 'Thus says the Lord God: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live!'"
-Ezekiel, chapter 37, verse 9
I spend a good amount of my day thinking about and working with the breath - far more, I'd venture to say, than the average person. I have been a singer my entire life - I was doing vocal exercises before I could speak - and breath is absolutely vital to singing. Similarly, breath is extremely important in Voice and Speech work, which is one of my great loves as far as theatre goes. I have asthma, and know what it feels like to be unable to take in the air that I need to survive. I hail from Bon Air United Methodist Church, the church of the "good air", which likes to use breath symbolism.
If you don't know the process of breathing, it's quite a fascinating one. When you breathe in, the breath comes in through your nose and mouth and moves down to fill up the lungs. The lungs need room to expand, so this really fabulous muscle called the diaphragm, which cuts across the torso horizontally, contracts down to push your organs out of the way (causing the belly to expand out). The ribs also swing out to allow the lungs to expand. (Whether the rib swing is a part of the natural breathing process is debated - some people maintain that "belly-breathing" is the only natural way to breathe. I find the rib swing to be a very valuable part of the process.) Then as the ribs and diaphragm return to relaxed positions, the air is pushed out - the exhale.
Sounds easy enough, right? And everyone's body knows how to do it and we do it every moment of every day, right?
Wrong. Most of us have actually forgotten how to breathe.
See, natural breath engages this muscle called the "transverse", which wraps around your belly like a cumber bund. There are other muscles covering the transverse - the rectus abdominus ("the six pack muscles") and the obliques. The transverse is only muscle that needs to be used - but most of us actually engage the other muscles as well. As I said earlier, the belly will expand out when you breathe, making you just a tad bit fatter for a second, and that is not something that is encouraged by our society. So what we do is engage these other muscles to hold our stomachs in - that means that the diaphragm can't contract like it should and therefore we don't take in as much air. Often, you'll see people's upper chests heaving up and down - since they can't get the expansion they need in their abdomen, they breathe into the chest, which creates shallow breathing instead of a full breath.
Some of us have the opposite problem. Singing teachers all look for people breathing in their chest and try to get them to breath "from their diaphragm". I remember many days of holding each other's shoulders down in choir, or lying on the floor breathing with a hymnal on my belly, trying to make it move up and down. What this can do, though, is make us overcorrect and distend our bellies outward, pushing out on the transverse, which then (because of how muscles are knitted together), makes it impossible for the ribs to expand, and therefore difficult for us to get a full breath. This is my main problem.
Tension is something we all live with every day. Despite going to theatre school where we work on relaxing the body all the time, my neck and shoulders are so tense that you can't even find knots - it's like trying to massage concrete. We all know about tensions we get from physical actions, like the way we walk or the bags we carry, but there's another kind of tension that creeps into the body, and that is tension created from emotion. Tensions of doubt and insecurity. Tensions of fear and shame. Tensions of loneliness and despair. The time you had a "wrong answer" or "stupid question" and people laughed at you. The time you laughed when no one else did. The time you said, "I love you," and felt like a fool. The little embarrassing or hurtful moments that we can still remember perfectly years later - those store up and create habits of tension, literally in your body, that affect your breathing. These tensions are very, very difficult to reverse.
There are many scriptural references to breath that I have only begun to study. Today's old testament reading was from Ezekiel, and included the verse I quoted earlier. It's the "Valley of Dry Bones" section, where God takes Ezekiel to a valley filled with dry bones and asks him if they can live again. Ezekiel, being smart, says, "You know if they can." God tells Ezekiel to prophesy to these bones that flesh will come upon them, and breath will come upon them, and they shall live. As Ezekiel does so, flesh does come upon them again, but they do not live, because breath had not entered them. God commands Ezekiel again to prophesy to the breath - and when he does, breath enters them and they live again.
The "breath of life" is not a new concept. It is around as early as Genesis 2:7, when "the Lord God formed man of dust from the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life and man became a living being." Life comes with breath. This was made quite clear in the CPR class I took last week - without breath, the heart doesn't get the oxygen it needs to keep pumping. When you breathe in, you are replenishing your heart.
The interesting thing about breath in Ezekiel is that breath is commanded. He tells the bones that flesh will come upon them and breath will enter them - and flesh comes upon them immediately. But he has to separately call upon the breath to enter.
One of the most fascinating things about breath is that it is the one process that is both voluntary and involuntary. We can chose to control our breath, but it still happens if we don't. One of my teachers once said, "Breath is the bridge between what keeps you alive and your will." In this way, the passage in Ezekiel shows true resurrection - both the automatic processes of the body represented in the flesh, and the spirit of life and will, represented in the breath.
The breath is called upon to give new life.
Today is Pentecost, which is a huge dramatic (in the best sense of the word) event in which the Holy Spirit descended upon the apostles. Fire descended upon them and they spoke God's word in tongues. Pentecost is called the birth of the church. Pentecost means that the Holy Spirit, part of the trinity, can work within us and through us, using our bodies and voices to transform the world.
Pentecost starts with breath. It starts with a sound coming from heaven like the rush of a mighty wind that filled the place where the apostles were gathered. This is actually what I think it must be like to be sitting in the lungs when a breath comes in. Montreat has the blessing of flimsy doors. The doors from the lobby to the auditorium are thin and don't shut well. During the service today, as the pastor commanded us to prophesy, the mountain wind blew in, causing the doors to swing open and shut loudly. I saw people from Facilities Crew and lay leaders start, looking towards the doors, wondering if they should go lock them - "No!" I thought. "What is the wind but God's breath?! Let it rush in, filling all of us in this place to be alive to speak his Word, and sing praises!"
Unfortunately, it is not that easy. Because of my asthma, I've had my lung capacity tested - and unless it's allergy season or I've been running, my lung capacity is well OVER 100%. I was frustrated with Voice and Speech classes for most of my life because most of these classes I took before college focused exclusively on breathing, and while breathing is important, knowing what to do with your breath is just as important. I tend to take in a lot of air and not use it. My voice used to tend towards a "breathy" quality, meaning air was escaping instead of vibrating through my vocal cords. I cannot tell you how often Voice and Speech teachers have worked to get me "on my breath". I had the air - but I didn't know how to use it.
"Breath is inspiration," a teacher of mine told me once. "Your passion and interest in this work is deep and clear, and I think it's making so much go on in here," pointing to her head, "and it's making your voice breathy because breath is inspiration." But inspiration, I have learned, is not communication. Inspiration is the pinch that causes you to say ouch (to put it in acting terms), inspiration is the reason you care to say anything, inspiration is the spark that starts the fire. But the spark has to hit something to truly ignite.
Wait, wait, wait. We've been working with this breath-as-life metaphor for quite some time. If breath is only the beginning, then does that mean that life is only the beginning? What fire does the spark of life start?
When the fire ignited, the apostles started speaking. They started speaking in languages that were not their own, they started speaking and everyone could understand, everyone heard the message in their native tongues. The Holy Spirit worked, and all language boundaries were defunct - all because of breath and voice.
Voice. Perhaps even more mysterious than breath, voice is a miracle that happens when breath vibrates. As the breath is released from the body, it passes through the vocal folds, which vibrate, creating sound, and travels up through the mouth or nose where it's shaped by different articulators (such as the lips and the tongue) to form words. It hits on resonators in the body which amplify it naturally. The voice is a primary tool we use to connect to each other. A baby's desperate cry for food, a pealing, ringing laugh - these are naturally uncontrollable impulses. The natural impulse towards voice, combined with the brain's craving for a language system, create spoken language that is our primary mode of communication.
We have learned to stifle our laughs and swallow our cries. Those inescapable tensions that constrict our breath prevent our true voice from ringing out. We control our pitches and tones. We disconnect from our voices because to connect with them would mean not only being vulnerably exposed without our armour of tension - but marching into the world that vulnerable.
But without doing that, how are we able to truly sing God's praises with all of our beings? How could we dance with the joy of the spirit if we leave a foot behind? Furthermore, the Holy Spirit working through the apostles' voices created communication that was universal. Nothing was getting lost in translation - meaning there was complete understanding, which means unity and community among all the people.
The story of Pentecost is the story of wind and fire is the story of breath and voice. We are ALIVE, and we are TOGETHER! The birth of the church is the beginning of an understand between people, understanding that surpasses all boundaries.
It is hard and scary to live this way. Our tensions protect us from ourselves and each other, and the more of ourselves we put out there, the more is available to hurt. Our tensions are so ingrained in us they seem impossible to change. A part of me finds voice work to be the most frustrating thing in the world because you never reach a point of, "Okay, my voice is good now!" It's about constantly striving to be open and relaxed and available so that whatever happens can happen, unobstructed.
But, like Ezekiel, we can call upon the breath of life. We, who are an exhausted, delirious people, gasping for air, can prophesy to the breath, and be filled with life. And being filled with life, we can transcend with voice into the One Body, destroying all barriers, so that the Kingdom of God may come upon the earth.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Friday, May 29, 2009
Nine O'Clock, Twilight...
Oh. My. Goodness.
Wednesday night at dusk, I came out of the crafts center where I'd been making pottery for two hours, and there was a purple mist over Lake Susan, the street lamps were glowing golden, and you could still see the green of the mountains. And I thought, "I'm really getting PAID to be here?!"
I also think I need to become a better photographer this summer.
There is a wonderful readjustment to not having internet or phone service in most places. I remember when last semester ended experiencing this physically strange feeling knowing that I did not have to be "on call" at all times. There did not need to be a way for me to be contacted about a show at any hour - I didn't need to leave my phone on at night - I didn't need to check my e-mail all the time in case of last minute schedule changes - I wasn't supposed to send anyone my schedule, or really send anyone anything. I'd spent so much time being available that not having to be was a major adjustment. Going to my room now and knowing that I will NOT get a text message is really nice. I don't have to have part of myself be anywhere else. I think my generation, especially, has put a part of ourselves into our phones and computers. They are so second nature to have that not having them is weird and uncomfortable. We are so used to a part of our brain thinking that we might have a text message. My phone is sitting next to me as I type this, and I still look at it and think it might buzz. My stomach jolts when I assure myself it won't. It's so engrained. Once I train this "cell phone as part of my body" mentality out of me, I think I'll never want to go back. It's also kind of nice because when I walk down to Anderson in the mornings, I get all these Twitter updates that are like the morning newspaper of what my friends have been up to.
Not having constant internet is less of a deal than the phone. I'm still on my computer a fair amount to type out what's happening, as that's more efficent than writing it (and when your wrists hurt from CPR training, typing is much nicer), but there's not a lot of internet time for me and that's just lovely. It helps prevent the "Facebook Loneliness Syndrome" - spending hours constantly refreshing your computer to see if you got a new notification or e-mail - and the disappointment and feelings of isolation when you don't. This is also probably a big development of my generation. (Sometimes, I want to be all Proust-like observing the odd little quirks about my own culture. Things like MyLifeIsAverage.com are golden for that.)
The really delightful thing is it's completely changed my morning routine. I'm used to waking up, checking my phone and e-mail and Facebook and all that. Now, I have significantly less occupying my time in the morning. I've decided to fill that time with some good old morning Bible reading. Tuesday night, when reading Luke, I thought about Paul and how I haven't really sat down to read the letters of Paul and how I really should. So now I'm reading Luke at night and Romans in the morning. Much better than Facebook.
Wednesday night was the first staff craft night. Pottery is really big here, and I had SO MUCH FUN making my first cup. This first one was completely hand-made, but I'm planning on making something on the wheel soon. I'm planning on doing a lot of pottery this summer. When else am I going to get free clay and wheels and tools and training? We're allowed to come in and make stuff whenever we want. I really want to make some awesome chalices. I will definitely be making a lot of Christmas gifts. I was back at the Craft Center today - they were getting a shipment of clay in so the A/V crew, the Aud crew, and the Rangers came over to help out. While we were waiting for the clay, the potters taught us how to trim things made on the wheel. The potters are so earthy, I love it. Both times I've been there, they've been so nurturing and enthusiastic about what they do. They have this quiet, calming joy about them that is just so unique and comforting. When I was on the wheel trimming a bowl today, it was my first time on the wheel and it was slightly intimidating, but the woman helping me diffused my nervous energy. There's a deep spirituality in everything they do that I'm absolutely drawn to. On certain days of the week, they have Prayers from Iona on the porch at 12:15. I plan to be there as often as I can.
The Rangers are also fun. Most of them are well-built men with beards, and then there's this super sweet and relatively tiny girl (Kim) who's a new Ranger. They're strangely zen in a very tough way. Apparently today Kim learned how to use a giant tool similar to an axe to hack her way through the woods. I think the thing about the Rangers is they're so at one with the world. Most of us would freak out upon seeing a bear. The Rangers could wrestle with it.
I am constantly amazed at the openness and generosity of the people here. From the adult staff to my fellow summer staffers. It's astounding.
I've spent the last two days in training. A/V Crew is a blast. It's mostly sound-based, which is great by me. The sound board is huge and beautiful. A few months ago, they had a big break-in and lots of equipment was stolen, which is horrible - but it does mean that most of our equipment is brand new, which is nice. We've organized the tape closet (our equipment room), cleaned the booth, played around with the board, done sound checks, set up portable systems, and checked out the equipment in Upper Anderson and Convocation Hall, which are two other spaces we'll be staffing this summer. The booth (where the light and sound boards are, usually in the back of any theatre space) looks like every other booth I've worked in, only bigger. In pretty much every booth I've worked in, there have been signatures or notes from past crews on the wall. There's some in the Studio theatre, one of our spaces at PHTS... and there were in the old booth in the Linhart theatre, another space of ours. Unfortunately, that space has been completely renovated and the booth was remade, so the signatures are lost. (Of course, it's good that the booth was remade because it was dangerous and falling apart. You either accessed it by a ladder or by going to the top of the audience seating, standing on the railing, and swinging yourself over. It was kind of fun. Theatre people have a strange pride in making dangerous old situations work.) Even the booth at my high school, which is much nicer than my college booths, had random boards supporting some equipment that people would sign. The booth in Anderson is covered with signatures. Signing it is a tradition. The bass player for Limp Bizkit was on A/V crew once, and we found his signature. There are also some time-honored A/V traditions in that booth, which are secrets I shouldn't expose to the whole internet. ;)
The people on A/V crew are great, and we're already starting to develop a sense of comraderie. I noticed it today as we all practiced turning the alarm system on and off. It was trial-by-fire, as we all had to go into the booth and turn off the alarm system within thirty seconds or else the alarm would actually go off and automatically call the police. The A/V crew banter was already starting and I felt quite comfortable with this group. There's one other girl on A/V crew, Rachel, who I hung out with for pretty much all of yesterday afternoon. We had the ultimate bonding experience walking back to our lodge and falling flat on our butts. First her, then me. It was pretty epic, and there's nothing like sharing a good fall for becoming friends. Another kid, Russ, is a year younger than me and also planning on doing Directing. He's at Emory and Henry. Our Directors (older youth supervisors, pretty much), Eric and Heather, are some of the coolest, chillest people I've ever met, which is very nice. We've been training with the DTPs, who are the ones who create and operate those slide shows of songs and the call to worship and all of that. We're also around Aud crew a lot. There's a bit of rivalry between A/V and Aud crews. They say we don't know how to do manual labor. Then we point out that they can't operate a projector. They just got a brand new truck which they're currently bragging about. Whatever. I'll take our old two-tanked, broken-windowed van that has most of the seats removed so we can transport the portable sound system and therefore if we've got the whole crew in there most people have to sit on the floor. It has character. After the talent show at Youth conferences, there's the A/V vs. Aud Olympics which we stage to entertain the kids. I'm pretty much the only person around who hasn't been to a Youth conference here. I'll find out about it soon enough.
I'm going to be so good with microphones by the time I get back to school. That will be so useful. Very few people at PHTS really know how to work with microphones. I guessed at it last semester. I learned the basics of it today, including the basics of equalization, so I've got a good foundation that I will build on a lot this summer. I'll be a beast when I get back. (I'll also be really pretentious about how to wrap cables.) Lighting is much less of a thing here. They said, "We actually have a lot of lights here, we've got about 20," and I scoffed a bit. For the size of the space, 20 lights is plenty for the general wash and all of that... but I'm used to a lot more specials and that kind of thing. The light board is adorable. It's like a newer version of the board we used in Scottsville for the Perceptions Dance Company performance. And Scottsville is a town in the middle of nowhere, VA. It's a dinky little thing, it only has faders, and I think it's impossible to program cues for it. Or if it is possible, it's really hard. The most advanced feature it seems to have is a crossfade. Mostly, it's lights on and lights off. Upper Anderson has more advanced lights, actually, and even has some lights randomly gelled green. One woman for our first conference saw a picture of the green lights and said, "Oh, look, you have colored lights!" Unfortunately, they're pretty much the only colored lights. Eric said we might see if we can find more gels for them, which would mean I would definitely get up on a ladder to GEL SOME LIGHTS! WOO! (For non-theatre people: gels are colored plastic that go in front of lights to change their color.)
Anyone going to a conference at Montreat will be happy to know that all Montreat staff are First Aid/CPR certified. (Including infant CPR.) I feel like first aid training will probably also come in handy at theatre school. (Memories from my first year crew assignment: "Jenn! You have a GIANT GASH in your foot. It is BLEEDING. There is chalk and dirt and blue vaseline all over the floor. You are now tracking blood through the studio theatre. PLEASE SIT DOWN. We can start cleanup without you, believe it or not.")
I've got just enough of the theatre spirit here (crew camaraderie, tech work) to keep me sane, but not so much that I feel trapped by it. I came in after work and just sat in one of our huge comfy chairs in my lodge and realized that I hadn't been this happy in a long time. I am so blessed to be here.
Our first conferences, Proclaiming the Text, and Christian Education, start next week. I hope I'm teching Proclaiming the Text - a former colleague of my mother's, who hasn't seen me since I was in elementary school, I think, is going to be doing something with Proclaiming the Text.
Wednesday night at dusk, I came out of the crafts center where I'd been making pottery for two hours, and there was a purple mist over Lake Susan, the street lamps were glowing golden, and you could still see the green of the mountains. And I thought, "I'm really getting PAID to be here?!"
I also think I need to become a better photographer this summer.
There is a wonderful readjustment to not having internet or phone service in most places. I remember when last semester ended experiencing this physically strange feeling knowing that I did not have to be "on call" at all times. There did not need to be a way for me to be contacted about a show at any hour - I didn't need to leave my phone on at night - I didn't need to check my e-mail all the time in case of last minute schedule changes - I wasn't supposed to send anyone my schedule, or really send anyone anything. I'd spent so much time being available that not having to be was a major adjustment. Going to my room now and knowing that I will NOT get a text message is really nice. I don't have to have part of myself be anywhere else. I think my generation, especially, has put a part of ourselves into our phones and computers. They are so second nature to have that not having them is weird and uncomfortable. We are so used to a part of our brain thinking that we might have a text message. My phone is sitting next to me as I type this, and I still look at it and think it might buzz. My stomach jolts when I assure myself it won't. It's so engrained. Once I train this "cell phone as part of my body" mentality out of me, I think I'll never want to go back. It's also kind of nice because when I walk down to Anderson in the mornings, I get all these Twitter updates that are like the morning newspaper of what my friends have been up to.
Not having constant internet is less of a deal than the phone. I'm still on my computer a fair amount to type out what's happening, as that's more efficent than writing it (and when your wrists hurt from CPR training, typing is much nicer), but there's not a lot of internet time for me and that's just lovely. It helps prevent the "Facebook Loneliness Syndrome" - spending hours constantly refreshing your computer to see if you got a new notification or e-mail - and the disappointment and feelings of isolation when you don't. This is also probably a big development of my generation. (Sometimes, I want to be all Proust-like observing the odd little quirks about my own culture. Things like MyLifeIsAverage.com are golden for that.)
The really delightful thing is it's completely changed my morning routine. I'm used to waking up, checking my phone and e-mail and Facebook and all that. Now, I have significantly less occupying my time in the morning. I've decided to fill that time with some good old morning Bible reading. Tuesday night, when reading Luke, I thought about Paul and how I haven't really sat down to read the letters of Paul and how I really should. So now I'm reading Luke at night and Romans in the morning. Much better than Facebook.
Wednesday night was the first staff craft night. Pottery is really big here, and I had SO MUCH FUN making my first cup. This first one was completely hand-made, but I'm planning on making something on the wheel soon. I'm planning on doing a lot of pottery this summer. When else am I going to get free clay and wheels and tools and training? We're allowed to come in and make stuff whenever we want. I really want to make some awesome chalices. I will definitely be making a lot of Christmas gifts. I was back at the Craft Center today - they were getting a shipment of clay in so the A/V crew, the Aud crew, and the Rangers came over to help out. While we were waiting for the clay, the potters taught us how to trim things made on the wheel. The potters are so earthy, I love it. Both times I've been there, they've been so nurturing and enthusiastic about what they do. They have this quiet, calming joy about them that is just so unique and comforting. When I was on the wheel trimming a bowl today, it was my first time on the wheel and it was slightly intimidating, but the woman helping me diffused my nervous energy. There's a deep spirituality in everything they do that I'm absolutely drawn to. On certain days of the week, they have Prayers from Iona on the porch at 12:15. I plan to be there as often as I can.
The Rangers are also fun. Most of them are well-built men with beards, and then there's this super sweet and relatively tiny girl (Kim) who's a new Ranger. They're strangely zen in a very tough way. Apparently today Kim learned how to use a giant tool similar to an axe to hack her way through the woods. I think the thing about the Rangers is they're so at one with the world. Most of us would freak out upon seeing a bear. The Rangers could wrestle with it.
I am constantly amazed at the openness and generosity of the people here. From the adult staff to my fellow summer staffers. It's astounding.
I've spent the last two days in training. A/V Crew is a blast. It's mostly sound-based, which is great by me. The sound board is huge and beautiful. A few months ago, they had a big break-in and lots of equipment was stolen, which is horrible - but it does mean that most of our equipment is brand new, which is nice. We've organized the tape closet (our equipment room), cleaned the booth, played around with the board, done sound checks, set up portable systems, and checked out the equipment in Upper Anderson and Convocation Hall, which are two other spaces we'll be staffing this summer. The booth (where the light and sound boards are, usually in the back of any theatre space) looks like every other booth I've worked in, only bigger. In pretty much every booth I've worked in, there have been signatures or notes from past crews on the wall. There's some in the Studio theatre, one of our spaces at PHTS... and there were in the old booth in the Linhart theatre, another space of ours. Unfortunately, that space has been completely renovated and the booth was remade, so the signatures are lost. (Of course, it's good that the booth was remade because it was dangerous and falling apart. You either accessed it by a ladder or by going to the top of the audience seating, standing on the railing, and swinging yourself over. It was kind of fun. Theatre people have a strange pride in making dangerous old situations work.) Even the booth at my high school, which is much nicer than my college booths, had random boards supporting some equipment that people would sign. The booth in Anderson is covered with signatures. Signing it is a tradition. The bass player for Limp Bizkit was on A/V crew once, and we found his signature. There are also some time-honored A/V traditions in that booth, which are secrets I shouldn't expose to the whole internet. ;)
The people on A/V crew are great, and we're already starting to develop a sense of comraderie. I noticed it today as we all practiced turning the alarm system on and off. It was trial-by-fire, as we all had to go into the booth and turn off the alarm system within thirty seconds or else the alarm would actually go off and automatically call the police. The A/V crew banter was already starting and I felt quite comfortable with this group. There's one other girl on A/V crew, Rachel, who I hung out with for pretty much all of yesterday afternoon. We had the ultimate bonding experience walking back to our lodge and falling flat on our butts. First her, then me. It was pretty epic, and there's nothing like sharing a good fall for becoming friends. Another kid, Russ, is a year younger than me and also planning on doing Directing. He's at Emory and Henry. Our Directors (older youth supervisors, pretty much), Eric and Heather, are some of the coolest, chillest people I've ever met, which is very nice. We've been training with the DTPs, who are the ones who create and operate those slide shows of songs and the call to worship and all of that. We're also around Aud crew a lot. There's a bit of rivalry between A/V and Aud crews. They say we don't know how to do manual labor. Then we point out that they can't operate a projector. They just got a brand new truck which they're currently bragging about. Whatever. I'll take our old two-tanked, broken-windowed van that has most of the seats removed so we can transport the portable sound system and therefore if we've got the whole crew in there most people have to sit on the floor. It has character. After the talent show at Youth conferences, there's the A/V vs. Aud Olympics which we stage to entertain the kids. I'm pretty much the only person around who hasn't been to a Youth conference here. I'll find out about it soon enough.
I'm going to be so good with microphones by the time I get back to school. That will be so useful. Very few people at PHTS really know how to work with microphones. I guessed at it last semester. I learned the basics of it today, including the basics of equalization, so I've got a good foundation that I will build on a lot this summer. I'll be a beast when I get back. (I'll also be really pretentious about how to wrap cables.) Lighting is much less of a thing here. They said, "We actually have a lot of lights here, we've got about 20," and I scoffed a bit. For the size of the space, 20 lights is plenty for the general wash and all of that... but I'm used to a lot more specials and that kind of thing. The light board is adorable. It's like a newer version of the board we used in Scottsville for the Perceptions Dance Company performance. And Scottsville is a town in the middle of nowhere, VA. It's a dinky little thing, it only has faders, and I think it's impossible to program cues for it. Or if it is possible, it's really hard. The most advanced feature it seems to have is a crossfade. Mostly, it's lights on and lights off. Upper Anderson has more advanced lights, actually, and even has some lights randomly gelled green. One woman for our first conference saw a picture of the green lights and said, "Oh, look, you have colored lights!" Unfortunately, they're pretty much the only colored lights. Eric said we might see if we can find more gels for them, which would mean I would definitely get up on a ladder to GEL SOME LIGHTS! WOO! (For non-theatre people: gels are colored plastic that go in front of lights to change their color.)
Anyone going to a conference at Montreat will be happy to know that all Montreat staff are First Aid/CPR certified. (Including infant CPR.) I feel like first aid training will probably also come in handy at theatre school. (Memories from my first year crew assignment: "Jenn! You have a GIANT GASH in your foot. It is BLEEDING. There is chalk and dirt and blue vaseline all over the floor. You are now tracking blood through the studio theatre. PLEASE SIT DOWN. We can start cleanup without you, believe it or not.")
I've got just enough of the theatre spirit here (crew camaraderie, tech work) to keep me sane, but not so much that I feel trapped by it. I came in after work and just sat in one of our huge comfy chairs in my lodge and realized that I hadn't been this happy in a long time. I am so blessed to be here.
Our first conferences, Proclaiming the Text, and Christian Education, start next week. I hope I'm teching Proclaiming the Text - a former colleague of my mother's, who hasn't seen me since I was in elementary school, I think, is going to be doing something with Proclaiming the Text.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
I'm sorry to shout, but HERE I AM!
(I'm going to see if I can title each of these blogs with musical theatre lyrics. I think if anyone can do it, I can.)
Hello from Montreat!
It seems like I've been here for significantly longer than I have. I moved into my room (my roommate is great), eaten a lot, and participated in quite a few orientation activities, both mixers and learning rules and regulations. Tomorrow I have CPR and First Aid training, and Thursday I start my departmental training. I've met everyone else on Production Crew, and most people on Facilities Crew (aka: Aud Crew, who works alongside Production Crew), and all the Conference Support staff. We are the summer staffers that make conferences happen. Woo! The girls in my lodge are great, and we've got a great sense of community here in Lookout. You'd think I'd be used to communities of people living together (aka: DORMS), but I was never around my dorm enough to actually know the people living by me and participate in activities. It's nice. Everyone here is extraordinarily generous.
I had this moment when we all held hands in a circle for grace before our first dinner together - when I realized that I was in this group full of people my age who were here to serve God. I know that sounds basic, but the impact of that was incredible - because it has been so long since I stood with a group like that. It was a huge weight lifted from my shoulders. I have always been a somewhat solitary person, but I didn't know the importance and relief of fellowship until that moment.
I only get phone service down in the Assembly Inn/Lake Susan/Anderson Auditorium area, not in my lodge, and wireless internet is only available in selected locations. I'm actually really excited about this. It's forcing me to break my technology habit and return to what's not behind a screen.
I started my study of Luke last night, and was delighted to find Theophilus addressed at the beginning. He was addressed in the beginning of the reading from Acts I read at Bon Air on Sunday. I must now find out who this Theophilus was.
Also: apparently Montreat has a labyrinth. You have to hike a bit up a mountain to find it. I'll be making that hike multiple times this summer.
Hello from Montreat!
It seems like I've been here for significantly longer than I have. I moved into my room (my roommate is great), eaten a lot, and participated in quite a few orientation activities, both mixers and learning rules and regulations. Tomorrow I have CPR and First Aid training, and Thursday I start my departmental training. I've met everyone else on Production Crew, and most people on Facilities Crew (aka: Aud Crew, who works alongside Production Crew), and all the Conference Support staff. We are the summer staffers that make conferences happen. Woo! The girls in my lodge are great, and we've got a great sense of community here in Lookout. You'd think I'd be used to communities of people living together (aka: DORMS), but I was never around my dorm enough to actually know the people living by me and participate in activities. It's nice. Everyone here is extraordinarily generous.
I had this moment when we all held hands in a circle for grace before our first dinner together - when I realized that I was in this group full of people my age who were here to serve God. I know that sounds basic, but the impact of that was incredible - because it has been so long since I stood with a group like that. It was a huge weight lifted from my shoulders. I have always been a somewhat solitary person, but I didn't know the importance and relief of fellowship until that moment.
I only get phone service down in the Assembly Inn/Lake Susan/Anderson Auditorium area, not in my lodge, and wireless internet is only available in selected locations. I'm actually really excited about this. It's forcing me to break my technology habit and return to what's not behind a screen.
I started my study of Luke last night, and was delighted to find Theophilus addressed at the beginning. He was addressed in the beginning of the reading from Acts I read at Bon Air on Sunday. I must now find out who this Theophilus was.
Also: apparently Montreat has a labyrinth. You have to hike a bit up a mountain to find it. I'll be making that hike multiple times this summer.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Wilkommen!
Well hello, internets.
Colleen here. You know, the one that wears a bowler hat and sings a lot? Yup. Hi.
I have started this blog on my pastor Christy's suggestion. In short, it's to keep all of you lovely people informed of my activities at my summer job, working on Production Crew at Montreat. But right now, I'd like to tell you the longer story of why this job is much more necessary than you probably originally thought. So, I give you:
I am a theatre student at NYU (I'll be a junior in the fall. Yikes).
As a theatre student at NYU, you take classes in several different areas:
Studio classes - these are your hands-on theatre training classes. Acting, directing, all that kind of thing. Each studio trains differently, and you're placed in the studio best suited for you and your interests. The college schedule officially says, "Studio, 9am - 6pm, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, for a total of 8 credits per semester." Further scheduling of specific studio classes are up to each individual studio. Most of your time and life is spent in studio. My studio, Playwrights Horizons Theater School, focuses on collaboration, training actors, directors, designers, playwrights, everyone. In fact, it focuses less on training people to be "specific things" and more on being theatre artists. Knowing another part of the art form helps whatever you're doing, especially since theatre is such a collaborative art. Practically, I know more things which increases my chance of being hired somewhere in the theatre.
Theatre Studies - these are academic theatre courses. In the past I've taken "History of Directing" and "Theatre in Ancient Greece". Next semester I'm taking "Experimental Music-Theatre", which I'm terribly excited about.
General Education - these are your non-theatre classes. You're required to take a certain amount of classes in both "sciences" and "humanities". This last semester I took "Modern Art" (a humanities course in the Art History department) and "Language" (a science course in the Linguistics department). Next semester I'll be taking "Dead Sea Scrolls" in the Religious Studies Department.
Electives - Electives are confusing, because some Gen Ed courses past the required number can count as electives, but the most common electives for us theatre majors are 2pt electives that are practical, hands-on classes not through our studio, but just through the Drama Department. In the past, I've taken "Accents and Dialects" as an elective.
Before I go any further, I want to say that I absolutely adore my studio, PHTS. The quality of education there is astounding. Every single person who works there, and I do mean every single one, is brilliant and caring (and usually slightly crazy in a good way). Their philosophy behind teaching is to help each one of us find what we're interested in and do all they can to enable us to pursue those interests. The classes are mindblowing, teaching us not only how to put up a theatre piece, but how to exist in the community of the world. That sounds a bit cheesy, but it's true. The love and care lavished on every single student there is absolutely unbelievable. From meeting with me out of class to help me work out what I'm struggling with, to rearranging the schedule so that I could get a class I desperately wanted, teachers and administration are always there to help enable us. I dreamed of coming to PHTS two years before I got my acceptence letter, and it's more than a dream come true. I have no doubt that this is where I am supposed to be, that God has placed me here, and that this education would help me even if I never did theatre again.
However, the second year at PHTS is notoriously difficult. And by difficult, I really mean impossible. Here's the deal:
Explanation. The regular blue are my classes. The slate blue is the show I was sound designing that week. The bright purple (the 8am light hanging fun time slot) is the show I was assistant lighting designing. It was assumed that any time I was not busy after 6pm, I'd be with that show, so I didn't put it on the calendar. The other purple is the show I was stage managing/dramaturging. It was an original piece, and for original pieces, there's a big thing at the midway point where they show what they have and get feedback. That's Panel on Saturday. That strange green is for rehearsals. Note the one that starts at 11:30pm. That one ended around 2am. The yellows are the show I was pulled into playing accordion for. Regular green is for the show I sound designed later in the semester. The reds are rehearsals for my own directing scene. And the pinks are "fun things". I had lunch with my great aunt this week, which was fun, and the other times counted as "fun" are the times I specifically set aside to do my Voice and Speech homework (DORK DORK DORK). Beyond all of this, I also had written homework for Script Analysis and Language and a project due in Design. You can see the rehearsals for Form and Content, Acting, Collab, Voice and Speech and Directing on the calendar. Note the rehearsals that overlap. I had to figure out what to do about those. Also, keep in mind that I'd usually have to get on a bus that came 45 minutes before my class so that I would get there on time.
This is not, I would say, the average college experience. If you can find time on there for a party, a football game (not that NYU has a football team anyway), or some residence hall activity, I'd love to see it. Those precious blocks of time where nothing is on the calendar were used for food, sleep, and homework. This is why I say I don't feel like I'm in college, I feel like I'm in theatre school. And theatre school is rigorous.
Things that are horrible:
See, about seven and a half years ago, on October 31st, 2001, I saw the musical Sweeney Todd: the Demon Barber of Fleet Street on PBS. I was absolutely terrified by it, but I couldn't get it out of my head so I watched it again a couple weeks later. I was absolutely astounded by it, finding it to be the most beautiful, powerful tragic and moving thing I had ever seen. From there, I auditioned for Appomattox Regional Governor's School for musical theatre, where I discovered the joys of directing, and then I applied early decision for directing at NYU, and was accepted. The one thing that has never been doubted was my drive and passion for the theatre. In fact, my intense focus tended to border the "too much" line. The question was always about whether I was too involved in my work and forgetting to live my life. Nothing made me happier than blocking a scene, hanging a light, or analyzing a script.
But this semester, when everything piled on top, I looked at my schedule and thought, "Yes, it's busy, but it's busy because I'm doing all these things I love to do. If I was still as intense and focused as I used to be, I'd be thriving. So what's going on?" There didn't seem to be any point to what we were all spending so much time and energy doing - I didn't see how our work affected anyone but ourselves, and everything started to seem like the egotistical, self-centered ramblings of people who thought themselves "artists".
What I eventually realized was that my focus was still just as intense... but it had shifted. Instead of being focused on the work itself, I was now focused on WHY I was doing the work. What the work was doing, how the work could affect the lives of audience members. I don't believe in art for art's sake. I believe in art as service to the world. Art can open us up, teach us to see things in a new way, show us the light that is hidden in the darkest places. But in this environment, I started losing sight of this, of the reason why.
I believe that my work is a religious calling. And with my schedule, being able to participate in any kind of fellowship group was pretty much impossible. Getting to church on Sunday mornings was difficult. (I had to specifically take Easter Sunday Morning off. That's kind of messed up.) What made me truly realize that this lack of connection to Christian fellowship was part of my problem, though, was Holy Week. During Holy Week, the show I was stage managing loaded in (Sunday 10am-midnight), had tech (Monday/Tuesday, 6pm-midnight), dress rehearsal (Wednesday 6pm-midnight), performances (Thursday-Saturday at 8pm, Saturday at 2pm) and strike (Saturday until midnight). The stage manager runs the show during tech week. No stage manager, no show. I couldn't even go to a Palm Sunday service, forget Maundy Thursday or Good Friday. And as I sat in my dorm room late night on Friday, holding my own Good Friday vigil with a candle technically illegal in NYU dorms and Medieval chant coming from my iPod, I realized how much it hurt me not to be able to go to these services. And I realized that I absolutely needed to make this time in my life. Time in communion and worship is what replenishes me, and keeps me focused on why I do what I do.
This year has left me extremely exhausted: physically, emotionally, intellectually, creatively, and most of all, spiritually. While I can intellectually and articulately state all the reasons I believe in art's power to minister to the needs of the world, I don't feel it resonating within me.
But luckily for me, I'm working at Montreat this summer!
Montreat is a Presbyterian Conference Center by Black Mountain, NC. (For you United Methodists: it's the Presbyterian Lake Junaluska). It's absolutely gorgeous, in the mountains, and just bursting with the Holy Spirit. I've been to their music weeks in the past. I have been hired to be on their Production Crew - meaning operating lights, sound, and projections wherever they're needed. This job is perfectly in line with what I'm doing in my training in school (I've gotten very into sound design this past year), gives me the opportunity to work in a larger space that I get to at school (Montreat's main auditorium seats 2000 - the theatre I work in seats 40), and, most importantly, live, work and learn in a community of faith. I believe in God's call for my life that He slowly reveals to me - and I believe that my love and passion and belief in what I'm doing as an artist will take hold of me again if I let it. I am absolutely thrilled to start this job.
So I'll be spending my summer in fellowship. In the mountains. Operating sound boards. Taking free pottery classes (awesome). Working about 40 hours a week. Getting a day off every week. (WHAT?! I don't know what a "day off" is...) Getting this incredible community to recuperate and grow in this community of faith.
When I e-mailed Christy to tell her I'd been hired, she said, "You should start a blog about it!" I thought that was a wonderful idea. So many people have said, "I want to hear all about it!" Furthermore, I know that putting what's happening into some semblance of an organized format will help me articulate my thoughts and feelings on God's work in my life. So here it is! The blog! I'll be updating periodically with... I'm not quite sure what. Thoughts, discoveries, questions - and lots of pictures because it really is exquisite here. Feel free to comment, ask me questions, anything. All of you are a part of my faith journey.
Questions I've been asked a lot recently:
Aren't you United Methodist?/Are you catholic?
I get "Are you catholic?" all the time in New York, ever since I came to school with ashes on my forehead on Ash Wednesday. (Because clearly catholics are the only ones who celebrate Ash Wednesday?) I call myself a "general Protestant", which means I was born Baptist, raised United Methodist, go to an Episcopalian church in New York, and am working for Prebyterians this summer. Yes, my background and knowledge is primarily United Methodist. I'm excited to learn more about Prebyterianism, and seeing what they really mean by "pre-destination".
When are you leaving?
Today! In about half an hour, in fact.
When will you be back?
August 12th.
I guess that's it for now. Thanks for reading. I'll try to post again soon after settling in!
Colleen here. You know, the one that wears a bowler hat and sings a lot? Yup. Hi.
I have started this blog on my pastor Christy's suggestion. In short, it's to keep all of you lovely people informed of my activities at my summer job, working on Production Crew at Montreat. But right now, I'd like to tell you the longer story of why this job is much more necessary than you probably originally thought. So, I give you:
Why Colleen Will ImplodeIf She Does Not Work In A Community Of Faith This Summer
a story of love, impossible scheduling, and constantly being mistaken for a Catholic
a story of love, impossible scheduling, and constantly being mistaken for a Catholic
I am a theatre student at NYU (I'll be a junior in the fall. Yikes).
As a theatre student at NYU, you take classes in several different areas:
Studio classes - these are your hands-on theatre training classes. Acting, directing, all that kind of thing. Each studio trains differently, and you're placed in the studio best suited for you and your interests. The college schedule officially says, "Studio, 9am - 6pm, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, for a total of 8 credits per semester." Further scheduling of specific studio classes are up to each individual studio. Most of your time and life is spent in studio. My studio, Playwrights Horizons Theater School, focuses on collaboration, training actors, directors, designers, playwrights, everyone. In fact, it focuses less on training people to be "specific things" and more on being theatre artists. Knowing another part of the art form helps whatever you're doing, especially since theatre is such a collaborative art. Practically, I know more things which increases my chance of being hired somewhere in the theatre.
Theatre Studies - these are academic theatre courses. In the past I've taken "History of Directing" and "Theatre in Ancient Greece". Next semester I'm taking "Experimental Music-Theatre", which I'm terribly excited about.
General Education - these are your non-theatre classes. You're required to take a certain amount of classes in both "sciences" and "humanities". This last semester I took "Modern Art" (a humanities course in the Art History department) and "Language" (a science course in the Linguistics department). Next semester I'll be taking "Dead Sea Scrolls" in the Religious Studies Department.
Electives - Electives are confusing, because some Gen Ed courses past the required number can count as electives, but the most common electives for us theatre majors are 2pt electives that are practical, hands-on classes not through our studio, but just through the Drama Department. In the past, I've taken "Accents and Dialects" as an elective.
Before I go any further, I want to say that I absolutely adore my studio, PHTS. The quality of education there is astounding. Every single person who works there, and I do mean every single one, is brilliant and caring (and usually slightly crazy in a good way). Their philosophy behind teaching is to help each one of us find what we're interested in and do all they can to enable us to pursue those interests. The classes are mindblowing, teaching us not only how to put up a theatre piece, but how to exist in the community of the world. That sounds a bit cheesy, but it's true. The love and care lavished on every single student there is absolutely unbelievable. From meeting with me out of class to help me work out what I'm struggling with, to rearranging the schedule so that I could get a class I desperately wanted, teachers and administration are always there to help enable us. I dreamed of coming to PHTS two years before I got my acceptence letter, and it's more than a dream come true. I have no doubt that this is where I am supposed to be, that God has placed me here, and that this education would help me even if I never did theatre again.
However, the second year at PHTS is notoriously difficult. And by difficult, I really mean impossible. Here's the deal:
- I spent 26.5 hours in class every week this past semester. 20 of those were studio, meaning the classwork is intensely physical and emotional as well as rigorously intellectual and creative. It takes an enormous amount of energy.
- Of my 9 studio classes, 6 required extensive out of class rehearsals. One of those, Directing class, had me rehearsing for three different scenes constantly.
- In addition, part of our training is working on 3rd and 4th year directing projects, which rehearse and perform outside of class. I worked on six this past semester. (sound designed one, sound designed/was the clowning expert for one, stage managed/dramaturged one, assistant lighting designed one, composed for one, and played accordion for one). That was stupid of me. NEVER AGAIN.
- With all these rehearsals, this means an average of four hours of rehearsal every night, and an average of 6 - 8 hours each weekend day. This already puts you up to about 60 hours in class or rehearsal every week.
- Whenever a show is in tech (meaning, the week the show actually goes up, you get into the theatre, that kind of thing), you load-in from 10am - midnight on that Sunday, have tech from 6pm - midnight every night until Thursday, when you open, have a show Thursday, Friday, two on Saturday, and you're there until midnight on Saturday striking. When you have breaks, you'll most likely be squeezing in another rehearsal because you still have scenes going up in class the next day.
- The amount of stress caused by juggling schedules is unbearable. And often, the only time everyone in a group or a scene can meet is after midnight.
- 2 of the other 3 studio classes that do not require rehearsals still require a good amount of weekly work and projects.
- And then, you've still got two academic classes, with papers and exams and teachers who do not realize that you have been in tech for three weeks straight.
Explanation. The regular blue are my classes. The slate blue is the show I was sound designing that week. The bright purple (the 8am light hanging fun time slot) is the show I was assistant lighting designing. It was assumed that any time I was not busy after 6pm, I'd be with that show, so I didn't put it on the calendar. The other purple is the show I was stage managing/dramaturging. It was an original piece, and for original pieces, there's a big thing at the midway point where they show what they have and get feedback. That's Panel on Saturday. That strange green is for rehearsals. Note the one that starts at 11:30pm. That one ended around 2am. The yellows are the show I was pulled into playing accordion for. Regular green is for the show I sound designed later in the semester. The reds are rehearsals for my own directing scene. And the pinks are "fun things". I had lunch with my great aunt this week, which was fun, and the other times counted as "fun" are the times I specifically set aside to do my Voice and Speech homework (DORK DORK DORK). Beyond all of this, I also had written homework for Script Analysis and Language and a project due in Design. You can see the rehearsals for Form and Content, Acting, Collab, Voice and Speech and Directing on the calendar. Note the rehearsals that overlap. I had to figure out what to do about those. Also, keep in mind that I'd usually have to get on a bus that came 45 minutes before my class so that I would get there on time.
This is not, I would say, the average college experience. If you can find time on there for a party, a football game (not that NYU has a football team anyway), or some residence hall activity, I'd love to see it. Those precious blocks of time where nothing is on the calendar were used for food, sleep, and homework. This is why I say I don't feel like I'm in college, I feel like I'm in theatre school. And theatre school is rigorous.
Things that are horrible:
- Oversleeping and missing class because you've gotten five hours of sleep in the past two days.
- When you sit down at 9:30pm to memorize lines, fall asleep and are therefore late to your 10:30pm rehearsal.
- Almost weekly all-nighters.
- When not getting sleep is not because of procrastination, but because there are literally not enough hours in the day to get everything down.
- The life-or-death mentality that runs through the whole program. With theatre people, if your directing scene is horrible, it is the end of the world. Also, when you're doing incredibly personal work, as is encouraged in any arts school, there's a lot more at risk for you than just a paper.
- No one can fully commit to their work because everyone's so overbooked.
- Breaking down into tears consistently throughout a school day. (I did this - as did everyone else. There was one day in particular where the entire 2nd Year class was crying, screaming, or both.)
- Not being able to go to the doctor, or therapy, or seek help in any way because you don't have time.
- Getting to the point where your body cannot take it any more and you have to leave studio early because you're vomiting.
- I survived this, I can now survive anything.
- I'm used to working 70 hour weeks.
- I've learned so much.
- Creativity really kicks in at 2am.
- I understand the importance of food and sleep.
- I will never work on six shows in one semester again.
- You learn to let go.
- It's theatre school, and the people there are wonderful and beautiful and interesting and otherwise delightful. One particularly horrible morning I woke up with anxiety over a scene that was going up later in the day... and then when I went to my 9:30am acting class my gray-haired teacher laid on her back flailing her limbs saying, "I'm a seagull!! WORK OFF OF ME!!" and I thought, "...I'm so glad I'm not in business school."
- Sometimes when you're crying your teacher lets you all spend the first half of class giving each other full body massages.
- Surviving it is absolute TRIUMPH.
- It helps you realize what you really care about. You figure out what you will still care about doing at 3am when you've been in tech for the past month, and that really helps to focus you towards what you want to do 3rd Year.
See, about seven and a half years ago, on October 31st, 2001, I saw the musical Sweeney Todd: the Demon Barber of Fleet Street on PBS. I was absolutely terrified by it, but I couldn't get it out of my head so I watched it again a couple weeks later. I was absolutely astounded by it, finding it to be the most beautiful, powerful tragic and moving thing I had ever seen. From there, I auditioned for Appomattox Regional Governor's School for musical theatre, where I discovered the joys of directing, and then I applied early decision for directing at NYU, and was accepted. The one thing that has never been doubted was my drive and passion for the theatre. In fact, my intense focus tended to border the "too much" line. The question was always about whether I was too involved in my work and forgetting to live my life. Nothing made me happier than blocking a scene, hanging a light, or analyzing a script.
But this semester, when everything piled on top, I looked at my schedule and thought, "Yes, it's busy, but it's busy because I'm doing all these things I love to do. If I was still as intense and focused as I used to be, I'd be thriving. So what's going on?" There didn't seem to be any point to what we were all spending so much time and energy doing - I didn't see how our work affected anyone but ourselves, and everything started to seem like the egotistical, self-centered ramblings of people who thought themselves "artists".
What I eventually realized was that my focus was still just as intense... but it had shifted. Instead of being focused on the work itself, I was now focused on WHY I was doing the work. What the work was doing, how the work could affect the lives of audience members. I don't believe in art for art's sake. I believe in art as service to the world. Art can open us up, teach us to see things in a new way, show us the light that is hidden in the darkest places. But in this environment, I started losing sight of this, of the reason why.
I believe that my work is a religious calling. And with my schedule, being able to participate in any kind of fellowship group was pretty much impossible. Getting to church on Sunday mornings was difficult. (I had to specifically take Easter Sunday Morning off. That's kind of messed up.) What made me truly realize that this lack of connection to Christian fellowship was part of my problem, though, was Holy Week. During Holy Week, the show I was stage managing loaded in (Sunday 10am-midnight), had tech (Monday/Tuesday, 6pm-midnight), dress rehearsal (Wednesday 6pm-midnight), performances (Thursday-Saturday at 8pm, Saturday at 2pm) and strike (Saturday until midnight). The stage manager runs the show during tech week. No stage manager, no show. I couldn't even go to a Palm Sunday service, forget Maundy Thursday or Good Friday. And as I sat in my dorm room late night on Friday, holding my own Good Friday vigil with a candle technically illegal in NYU dorms and Medieval chant coming from my iPod, I realized how much it hurt me not to be able to go to these services. And I realized that I absolutely needed to make this time in my life. Time in communion and worship is what replenishes me, and keeps me focused on why I do what I do.
This year has left me extremely exhausted: physically, emotionally, intellectually, creatively, and most of all, spiritually. While I can intellectually and articulately state all the reasons I believe in art's power to minister to the needs of the world, I don't feel it resonating within me.
But luckily for me, I'm working at Montreat this summer!
Montreat is a Presbyterian Conference Center by Black Mountain, NC. (For you United Methodists: it's the Presbyterian Lake Junaluska). It's absolutely gorgeous, in the mountains, and just bursting with the Holy Spirit. I've been to their music weeks in the past. I have been hired to be on their Production Crew - meaning operating lights, sound, and projections wherever they're needed. This job is perfectly in line with what I'm doing in my training in school (I've gotten very into sound design this past year), gives me the opportunity to work in a larger space that I get to at school (Montreat's main auditorium seats 2000 - the theatre I work in seats 40), and, most importantly, live, work and learn in a community of faith. I believe in God's call for my life that He slowly reveals to me - and I believe that my love and passion and belief in what I'm doing as an artist will take hold of me again if I let it. I am absolutely thrilled to start this job.
So I'll be spending my summer in fellowship. In the mountains. Operating sound boards. Taking free pottery classes (awesome). Working about 40 hours a week. Getting a day off every week. (WHAT?! I don't know what a "day off" is...) Getting this incredible community to recuperate and grow in this community of faith.
When I e-mailed Christy to tell her I'd been hired, she said, "You should start a blog about it!" I thought that was a wonderful idea. So many people have said, "I want to hear all about it!" Furthermore, I know that putting what's happening into some semblance of an organized format will help me articulate my thoughts and feelings on God's work in my life. So here it is! The blog! I'll be updating periodically with... I'm not quite sure what. Thoughts, discoveries, questions - and lots of pictures because it really is exquisite here. Feel free to comment, ask me questions, anything. All of you are a part of my faith journey.
Questions I've been asked a lot recently:
Aren't you United Methodist?/Are you catholic?
I get "Are you catholic?" all the time in New York, ever since I came to school with ashes on my forehead on Ash Wednesday. (Because clearly catholics are the only ones who celebrate Ash Wednesday?) I call myself a "general Protestant", which means I was born Baptist, raised United Methodist, go to an Episcopalian church in New York, and am working for Prebyterians this summer. Yes, my background and knowledge is primarily United Methodist. I'm excited to learn more about Prebyterianism, and seeing what they really mean by "pre-destination".
When are you leaving?
Today! In about half an hour, in fact.
When will you be back?
August 12th.
I guess that's it for now. Thanks for reading. I'll try to post again soon after settling in!
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