Let me be used.

"It’s what great artists do. They suffer and feel more within the human condition than others. They’re not better for that, just more sensitive, and there’s a burden to that. They feel the more painful aspects of life and set about to help it, heal it, turn dark into light. I believe that’s what Stephen Sondheim’s mission is. It’s what Shakespeare’s mission was — to illuminate our thoughts and struggles and bring about the possibility of getting the most we can out of a day as opposed to least in this brief moment we’re here."

- Mandy Patinkin

One of my dear friends shared this quote with me in light of the New York Philharmonic concert version of Sondheim's musical Company being shown in movie theatres nationwide. I have been an obsessive Sondheim fan since my sophomore year of high school--collecting every cast recording possible, reading as many of the books on Sondheim as I could get my hands on, spending all my time (literally) analyzing his work--due to my obsession with Sweeney Todd that started when I was 12. (Which means, hey, our 10 year anniversary is coming up this Halloween.)

Without going on a long rant about how much I love Sondheim and his work and his characters, I'll say that reading this quote was funny for me. Of course it's Mandy Patinkin, who has been a major Sondheim actor and supporter, who said this, because often Sondheim is critiqued for being distant and unemotional. (These critiques are stupid for so many reasons, but, again, I'll spare you my critique of the critique.) When I have told people that my favorite musical is Sweeney Todd, people will often talk about how dark and morbid that is, whereas I see it, and pretty much have always seen it, as a musical about love, and even hope. That there is a light in the midst of all that. It is not negativity and destruction for their own ends--but ultimately, confronting them because they are realities, and giving us a beginning to heal. Perhaps this resonates with me in particular because I've gone from being extremely cynical to extremely optimistic--and those two don't actually feel dissonant to me at all. In no way was any of that time I spent hating most of the world "wasted time", because I would not be as insistent on finding the positive as I am today.

Because, here's the thing... there's a lot of horrible things that happen in this world and it would be dumb to deny them. Or the hurt that they cause. But I think the way to actually combat them is to turn their negativity into a kind of healing. Into something beautiful that would not have taken place if they had not happened. (which is never to say that they "should" happen, but "should" rarely helps out any of us, now does it?) How can we transform them? That's actually how you fight the powers of evil in this world. And then, how do we look at the people who have caused tremendous amounts of hurt and truly say, "I love you." Even if that hurt is still there?

I think we'll all look like fools if we do that. But looking like a fool usually seems to be the point. The fool who insists on beauty and insists on love no matter how much they get hurt. That's the Christian.

Bring to a boil, reduce heat, cover, and simmer!

All the recipes on the internet are full of too much random stuff, so I improvised.

JOLLOF RICE, GHANA STYLE

3 tbsp tomato paste

3 tbsp vegetable oil (preferably palm oil)

2 cups broth (chicken or vegetable, your preference)

1/2 tsp cayenne pepper

1 cup long grain rice

1. In a saucepan, heat/mix oil, broth, tomato paste, and pepper. Bring to boil, reduce to simmer. Let simmer about five minutes.

2. Add rice, stir.

3. Cook until rice absorbs liquid.

You can also add vegetables to this. The next time I do it I want to dice an onion into that sauce but I didn't have one on hand. Served best with stir-fried chicken and fried RIPE plantains. You can also do 1 cup broth and 1 cup water for a bit lighter flavor, but pfft.

This is a big deal because I usually do not improvise in the kitchen (cooking-wise I'm generally not that confident... baking-wise is a whole different ballgame), and I've never cooked rice before. I just saw all these recipes and thought, "I've seen people make this. It's not that complicated."

We will now return to your regularly scheduled programming.

My poor Jerusalem

Ithaca is lovely.

Truly. Quite beautiful, though we haven't seen much of that yet as they front-loaded us with design work. The people here are great, phenomenal to work with. I've been in design meetings constantly and that's been absolutely thrilling. I have space, resources, and time to design, in a place that is beautiful, a community that supports the arts, and with people who are inspiring, challenging, and joys to work with. Yup, this situation is quite ideal.

I'm spending my time designing sounds and websites, writing long-winded letters to send across the country, reading, and resting. Trying to rest off the physical and emotional exhaustion of last semester. I am terribly glad not to be in the city for the summer. I might visit later in the summer when the work calms down, catching a ride with one of my fellow designers who's planning on going down to the city every so often, to have a meeting with someone who's in the city for the summer who I could desperately use a conversation with. And maybe to swap out some books. Distance from the city is good right now... it's allowing rest and healing, both of which I need. I read a book, Just Kids by Patti Smith, which was phenomenal. About her earlier days in New York and (primarily) her relationship with Robert Mapplethorpe. I highly recommend it (though most of the arts-based theater people reading this have already read it). I'm now onto Me and Rumi: the autobiography of Shams of Tabriz, which is a newly organized translation of the Discourses of Shams-i-Tabriz. Rumi was a wise teacher but no one to particularly pay attention to until Shams came along and inspired him to the great spiritual poet and teacher that he was. Lots can be said about that relationship and what exactly it was. You'll read a lot of Rumi's poetry and it's simultaneously addressed to God and to Shams. (which actually makes perfect sense when you think about the main goal is mysticism). So it seems that, without even meaning to, I brought books that are all about encountering God in relationship with others. Looks like we're there now.

Ithaca College is on a hill, so I was walking home from rehearsal one day and looked out and could see the town, spread beneath me, the lake, trees, just beautiful nature. And I thought about God and I thought about God's incredible love for this world. And I thought about how we do things to hurt each other and how much that must break God's heart, how God must look at us and say, "No, don't you get it? You don't need to do that to each other!" And Matthew 23 went through my head, where, after going on a rampage condemning the hypocritical Pharisees, Jesus said, "Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing." This is it, this is God's terrible sorrow--God has offered nothing but love for us, that we twist and distort and deny and reject. And we hurt each other in ways that cannot be repaired and want to inspire more hurt.

No wonder all those theologians are so obsessed with original sin. No wonder they want to get back to before that.

And yet... as obvious and painful as this is... I cannot believe that God does not still love every one of us, and I cannot believe that God doesn't have ways that He works wonders through this mess we've gotten ourselves into. And I cannot believe that adding more hate will help matters.

Call me stubborn.