Being a creator is damn tough.
Being an overacheiving artist that cannot seem to say no to anything because who knows what it can turn into is even tougher.
The minute I get inspired or start building visions in my head it's all over and I get sucked in!
I love it and it's wonderfully stressful and all consuming and then I say I'm never going to do it again, and then BAM what do you know guess what I'm doing again.
In the process I'm in love with the project though, and it's hard to make sure I don't abandon my home/life/family in the midst.
This doesn't really apply to Luminarium stuff, I'm pretty much always in love with Lumiarium work and feel justified and productive and happy and never regretful. That feels good, at least!
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
dance opinion- trisha brown at the ICA
I was fortunate enough to get a free ticket to go see Trisha Brown Dance Company at the ICA last Friday night (thanks, Merli!) perform Works from 1978-2011. They danced Foray Forêt, Watermotor, Opal Loop and Les Yeux et l'âme . Major points for lifting the cyc at the top of the second act to let the audience drool over the view of Boston Harbor and the city skyline- the most beautiful nighttime backdrop! While I could summarize, and perhaps I will further down the digital page, but what is more present in my current thinking is the huge span of difference between movement and choreography.
Dance, dancing, choreography... So many individuals (perhaps that don't base their career in creating) view these as the same thing, but Friday night's show refreshed my opinion on the WORLD of difference between them. For example, I enjoy Trisha Brown's movement (as movement)... I enjoy dancing it too. It straddles this excellent ravine of full-out/total-body physicality and flail; precision in knowing where the physical edge in movement lies without crossing the invisible and millimeter-thin border to sloppy dancing. Her dancers are such impressive entities themselves, always making her highly active movement look effortless whether they are in the air, doing something demanding of strength, gliding into and out of the floor without so much of an extra gasp, etc. I can only imagine it would be amazingly easy to misplace ones arms, or have 1 percent too little energy, and the movement would look awful. I think anyone trying to make a career in dance performance would learn a great deal from Trisha Brown's dancers.
Moving on from my movement quality monologue, in the first and third pieces I became amazingly aware of how great movement doesn't always equal great choreography. The third piece (Opal Loop- 1980) felt a lot like it could have been tacked onto the end of the first piece (Foray Forêt- 1990) and it could have just been a continuation of the first, if the costumes had been the same. While I am sure this sounds fairly ignorant (I am well educated- and in dance- I swear!), I felt there was no real 'why' behind the pieces, and I had a difficult time staying focused on the work as an audience member. I don't need a storyline or a gimmick or a narrative to watch dance, but I at least appreciate seeing some kind of spark of motivation that a choreographer possessed when they were creating.
Foray Forêt opened the show, and featured several dancers in golden costumes (at times giving me a subtle impression of Egyptian garb, at other times space-like) showcasing their great Trisha technique while a marching band roamed the halls of the ICA. The movement was constant and ever shifting, it did not give my eyes or brain a break as it kept going, going, going. New dancers were introduced and subtracted, there were fleeting moments of partnering, costume pieces were added in the wings, and we never ever got to be introduced to the roving band. I could have come to peace with this piece (hahaha), if when the second act opened with Opal Loop I hadn't felt like the entire first half of the piece was identical in choreography to Foray Forêt-- same bodied, ever-shifting movement on a quartet of dancers (two males, two females) wearing four different costumes. If it was a continuation of the first piece, it would read exactly the same. After said-first half, however, there was a huge shift where the four dancers began duet work, either with a partner, or removed from their partner but maintaining the visual link of the duet. I appreciated the break in the constant stream of evolving movement, but as a choreographer I couldn't come up with validation for this huge shift and simplification. I was frustrated with myself, as I don't think there always needs to be an answer, but to watch these two major pieces with the same issue floating around in my head left me very unresolved. I saw the shifting and rotating patterns of travel on the stage, dancers making loops and intersections between each other, but I wanted a bit more of a connection or reason.
While I do think Trisha Brown is a huge and important figure in the history and dynamic of the dance world (and there were pieces I appreciated, more on this below), I feel like many choreographers, small and major alike, demonstrate the difference between dance and choreography. An individual might give the world's best and most satisfying technique class, but this doesn't mean they consistently produce brilliant work on stage. Another individual might create stunning choreography that appeals to diverse crowds, but might give an awful class. A movement style might feel wonderful on the body, but look quite inadequate in the stage space. I am sure my point is obvious without more examples! Where this led me and my thoughts on Friday night, especially coming off a recent showing of my work and approaching teaching my first open company class, is where I fit in on this scale. I am satisfied with the quality of my choreography of recent, but how will my class go? Also, do I really have my own technique, or will only years of work in this industry lead to such a refinement and classification of my movement style?
What was really beautiful in Brown's last piece of the night, Les Yeux et l'âme (2011), was the balance of movement, pauses, partnering, and music. I didn't realize this piece was a compilation of work she created while restaging Pygmalion recently, but it read as a cohesive work. With plentiful glimpses of the Trisha Brown movement we all know, there were slower portions where I could sit and enjoy what was happening across the stage and in the various couplings. Each dancer utilized their physicality, but presented it from a pleasant place. Each section or phrase seemed to easily roll into the next, and I was engaged and looking forward to where the piece might lead. Also, Brown worked with the music wonderfully. There wasn't a focus on matching up the movement and choreography (ala Mark Morris), but they seemed to co-habitate well, occasionally crossing paths but serving more to gently support each other from afar. As I haven't touched upon it... I also did enjoy Watermotor; an intense and brief solo danced by a man in pale clothing amidst a cool blue puddle of down light. I think I mostly appreciated it for its overlap with lighting, though I was impressed with the performer's consistency and endurance.
I feel sort of guilty and under-qualified for giving this show such a mediocre review, but I think the program itself didn't help. I understand Trisha Brown as a choreographer is a post-modern maven and I have seen other pieces she's created (in the more-abstract realm) that work for me and really speak for themselves. The feel of the show on Friday night was too much of the same, though, for pieces 1-3 before a shift in piece 4... I would be interested to see if a change in repertory presented would create a change in my attitude as a viewer.
Dance, dancing, choreography... So many individuals (perhaps that don't base their career in creating) view these as the same thing, but Friday night's show refreshed my opinion on the WORLD of difference between them. For example, I enjoy Trisha Brown's movement (as movement)... I enjoy dancing it too. It straddles this excellent ravine of full-out/total-body physicality and flail; precision in knowing where the physical edge in movement lies without crossing the invisible and millimeter-thin border to sloppy dancing. Her dancers are such impressive entities themselves, always making her highly active movement look effortless whether they are in the air, doing something demanding of strength, gliding into and out of the floor without so much of an extra gasp, etc. I can only imagine it would be amazingly easy to misplace ones arms, or have 1 percent too little energy, and the movement would look awful. I think anyone trying to make a career in dance performance would learn a great deal from Trisha Brown's dancers.
Moving on from my movement quality monologue, in the first and third pieces I became amazingly aware of how great movement doesn't always equal great choreography. The third piece (Opal Loop- 1980) felt a lot like it could have been tacked onto the end of the first piece (Foray Forêt- 1990) and it could have just been a continuation of the first, if the costumes had been the same. While I am sure this sounds fairly ignorant (I am well educated- and in dance- I swear!), I felt there was no real 'why' behind the pieces, and I had a difficult time staying focused on the work as an audience member. I don't need a storyline or a gimmick or a narrative to watch dance, but I at least appreciate seeing some kind of spark of motivation that a choreographer possessed when they were creating.
Foray Forêt opened the show, and featured several dancers in golden costumes (at times giving me a subtle impression of Egyptian garb, at other times space-like) showcasing their great Trisha technique while a marching band roamed the halls of the ICA. The movement was constant and ever shifting, it did not give my eyes or brain a break as it kept going, going, going. New dancers were introduced and subtracted, there were fleeting moments of partnering, costume pieces were added in the wings, and we never ever got to be introduced to the roving band. I could have come to peace with this piece (hahaha), if when the second act opened with Opal Loop I hadn't felt like the entire first half of the piece was identical in choreography to Foray Forêt-- same bodied, ever-shifting movement on a quartet of dancers (two males, two females) wearing four different costumes. If it was a continuation of the first piece, it would read exactly the same. After said-first half, however, there was a huge shift where the four dancers began duet work, either with a partner, or removed from their partner but maintaining the visual link of the duet. I appreciated the break in the constant stream of evolving movement, but as a choreographer I couldn't come up with validation for this huge shift and simplification. I was frustrated with myself, as I don't think there always needs to be an answer, but to watch these two major pieces with the same issue floating around in my head left me very unresolved. I saw the shifting and rotating patterns of travel on the stage, dancers making loops and intersections between each other, but I wanted a bit more of a connection or reason.
While I do think Trisha Brown is a huge and important figure in the history and dynamic of the dance world (and there were pieces I appreciated, more on this below), I feel like many choreographers, small and major alike, demonstrate the difference between dance and choreography. An individual might give the world's best and most satisfying technique class, but this doesn't mean they consistently produce brilliant work on stage. Another individual might create stunning choreography that appeals to diverse crowds, but might give an awful class. A movement style might feel wonderful on the body, but look quite inadequate in the stage space. I am sure my point is obvious without more examples! Where this led me and my thoughts on Friday night, especially coming off a recent showing of my work and approaching teaching my first open company class, is where I fit in on this scale. I am satisfied with the quality of my choreography of recent, but how will my class go? Also, do I really have my own technique, or will only years of work in this industry lead to such a refinement and classification of my movement style?
What was really beautiful in Brown's last piece of the night, Les Yeux et l'âme (2011), was the balance of movement, pauses, partnering, and music. I didn't realize this piece was a compilation of work she created while restaging Pygmalion recently, but it read as a cohesive work. With plentiful glimpses of the Trisha Brown movement we all know, there were slower portions where I could sit and enjoy what was happening across the stage and in the various couplings. Each dancer utilized their physicality, but presented it from a pleasant place. Each section or phrase seemed to easily roll into the next, and I was engaged and looking forward to where the piece might lead. Also, Brown worked with the music wonderfully. There wasn't a focus on matching up the movement and choreography (ala Mark Morris), but they seemed to co-habitate well, occasionally crossing paths but serving more to gently support each other from afar. As I haven't touched upon it... I also did enjoy Watermotor; an intense and brief solo danced by a man in pale clothing amidst a cool blue puddle of down light. I think I mostly appreciated it for its overlap with lighting, though I was impressed with the performer's consistency and endurance.
I feel sort of guilty and under-qualified for giving this show such a mediocre review, but I think the program itself didn't help. I understand Trisha Brown as a choreographer is a post-modern maven and I have seen other pieces she's created (in the more-abstract realm) that work for me and really speak for themselves. The feel of the show on Friday night was too much of the same, though, for pieces 1-3 before a shift in piece 4... I would be interested to see if a change in repertory presented would create a change in my attitude as a viewer.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Hi, Real Life!
June to present has been a whirlwind... interviewing for/leaving and entering multiple jobs, spending a lot of time with my dying grampa, creating a new piece, yet another new job, performing/teching/insanity/fun at Seacoast Fringe Festival, funeral, auditioning dancers, shooting weddings, revamping aforementioned piece to be performed at Mobius, rehearsals, growing work hours, writing 5 grants with Merli and (oh yeah) remodeling our house, I've been gradually falling more and more behind. Oh right... and running out of Ritalin like 3 weeks ago when I fired my psychiatrist.
But all that has changed!
After shooting a wedding on Saturday I spent the weekend on the Cape, and it was just relaxing and easy and perfect. We drove around, spent time at the beach on a beautiful day, enjoyed my Gramma and Twyla's birthdays, and just did not too much of anything. Perfect!
Today I've had time to clean, rearrange my office furniture and set up the iMac, put away lots of laundry, and catch up on Luminarium work and COGdesign work, and I am feeling just so much better.
Now I'm onto producing an AMAZING show for Luminarium's end of 2011 season, becoming a 501 c3 (any day now...), catching up on car appointments/health appointments, fundraising, painting my front door, and applying for MORE grants. Soon I will be caught up on life...
This entry has zero purpose, just wanted to chronicle the feel-good vibes.
But all that has changed!
After shooting a wedding on Saturday I spent the weekend on the Cape, and it was just relaxing and easy and perfect. We drove around, spent time at the beach on a beautiful day, enjoyed my Gramma and Twyla's birthdays, and just did not too much of anything. Perfect!
Today I've had time to clean, rearrange my office furniture and set up the iMac, put away lots of laundry, and catch up on Luminarium work and COGdesign work, and I am feeling just so much better.
Now I'm onto producing an AMAZING show for Luminarium's end of 2011 season, becoming a 501 c3 (any day now...), catching up on car appointments/health appointments, fundraising, painting my front door, and applying for MORE grants. Soon I will be caught up on life...
This entry has zero purpose, just wanted to chronicle the feel-good vibes.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Kim's Pick-Me-Up Video Playlist. Volume 1.
Here are my favorite internet videos for a mood reversal (even if temporary) when I am feeling gloomy or sad....
Boom King...
This is my go-to. It appeals to my immature sense of humor, and is just genius. I am MADLY in love with these guys. Whoever decided no more Flight of the Conchords sucks majorly.
BEST (not worst) music video ever...
Tim Early's January repertory piece...2007... or maybe 2008? Just watch. It needs no words...
Baryshnikov... Tharp... Wild Abandon... What more does one need?
This is dance comfort food... Beautiful out of control looking, yet completely in control, I love love love it.
Note: These are all wonderful procrastination tactics. More to follow...
Boom King...
This is my go-to. It appeals to my immature sense of humor, and is just genius. I am MADLY in love with these guys. Whoever decided no more Flight of the Conchords sucks majorly.
BEST (not worst) music video ever...
Tim Early's January repertory piece...2007... or maybe 2008? Just watch. It needs no words...
Baryshnikov... Tharp... Wild Abandon... What more does one need?
This is dance comfort food... Beautiful out of control looking, yet completely in control, I love love love it.
Note: These are all wonderful procrastination tactics. More to follow...
post-weekend whatever.
This weekend was a weird emotion sandwich. I stayed home from Tobin on Friday, mainly because I hadn't cried yet and was nervous about when it would strike... I didn't want to break down at work. I distracted myself with crazy cleaning, packing for Fringe, shopping, caffeinating... and the like.
Saturday and Sunday were amazing. While Merli summed it up so wonderfully, I won't recap- but check out her narrative of the weekend. It was full of art, silliness, support, AMAZING weather, and lots of love and fun. Sidenote: I am not destined to be a pool shark, but I plan on practicing, perhaps improving my game beyond default wins and unintentional trick shots... Stayed up until like 5am with Christin/Merli/Mark/Matt, and then even later with Merli (more chatting and then jumping into and on our beds). I have such a great dance company/family, this has grown into something beyond dancers and choreographers and I am lucky.
My mom/Jenn/Christos came to the show on Sunday. I knew I was inevitably going to break down when I saw them, as I hadn't seen any of my family members since I got the news, so I made them come in early. Weirdly I didn't totally lose it until they left to go get dinner, and I found myself grieving inside a temple. Go figure. Good thing for the dark shades, even though I looked like a jerk walking around with them on. Alan wouldn't have liked my outward display of emotion.... Just like he didn't like, oh, everything?
I showed my new piece twice this weekend, of course with Merli's fun new piece and other greatest-hits too, and it was received as I hoped it would be. While our performance spaces were nutty and backwards and disorganized, the show went well on both nights. The experience made me even more excited to show it in November (4-5, 8 pm, green st studios) in a dark and deep theatre space. I'm nervous for Mobius on Oct 21, as I just found out its a very skinny and longish space. We'll see...
While I want to get down to discussing my new work in a blog post, I don't have the time to do it justice. Keep your eyes peeled. What I will say now, is that it depends so majorly on the dancers (what is emotionally portrayed or restrained, and their connections) and their performance quality made some serious magic happen on Sunday night. I remember sitting in the dark with my silly clamp light in my lap, watching and lighting, tears flowing down my face, and trying both suavely and frantically to wipe them away as the dancers got close to the downstage region, so they wouldn't see me awkwardly in the darkness.
I absolutely love being a creator, wouldn't ever ever want it any other way. I am very grateful that I was able to take a big risk, that I have a great partner, and that there are so many supporters that are making our org flourish.
So now we are in a new week...
Monday I crashed, cried, enjoyed my puppy and the weather, and regained my composure.
Yesterday I went to work, and had one of the first successes I've had in the arts at Tobin. The kids have been a hard sell on performing mediums, but I had a good sized group of girls trust me enough to do some theatre, and they had a great time. At the end of the day I got word of some interest in dance...
This week is grant-mania. Merli and I have 5 grants due this week, and a CRAZY project in mind. Wish us luck... We also have a bunch due over November and December. While we only have a year behind our belts, it was such a solid year. 2 self-produced performances, a statewide tour, invitations to perform in multiple fundraisers and festivals, a Boston Center for the Arts performance, invite to be guest lecturers at a MHC arts talk, a gala, a community outreach project... now a Mobius performance next week. We have no intention on losing momentum!
So that's life.... and non-life.
Saturday and Sunday were amazing. While Merli summed it up so wonderfully, I won't recap- but check out her narrative of the weekend. It was full of art, silliness, support, AMAZING weather, and lots of love and fun. Sidenote: I am not destined to be a pool shark, but I plan on practicing, perhaps improving my game beyond default wins and unintentional trick shots... Stayed up until like 5am with Christin/Merli/Mark/Matt, and then even later with Merli (more chatting and then jumping into and on our beds). I have such a great dance company/family, this has grown into something beyond dancers and choreographers and I am lucky.
My mom/Jenn/Christos came to the show on Sunday. I knew I was inevitably going to break down when I saw them, as I hadn't seen any of my family members since I got the news, so I made them come in early. Weirdly I didn't totally lose it until they left to go get dinner, and I found myself grieving inside a temple. Go figure. Good thing for the dark shades, even though I looked like a jerk walking around with them on. Alan wouldn't have liked my outward display of emotion.... Just like he didn't like, oh, everything?
I showed my new piece twice this weekend, of course with Merli's fun new piece and other greatest-hits too, and it was received as I hoped it would be. While our performance spaces were nutty and backwards and disorganized, the show went well on both nights. The experience made me even more excited to show it in November (4-5, 8 pm, green st studios) in a dark and deep theatre space. I'm nervous for Mobius on Oct 21, as I just found out its a very skinny and longish space. We'll see...
While I want to get down to discussing my new work in a blog post, I don't have the time to do it justice. Keep your eyes peeled. What I will say now, is that it depends so majorly on the dancers (what is emotionally portrayed or restrained, and their connections) and their performance quality made some serious magic happen on Sunday night. I remember sitting in the dark with my silly clamp light in my lap, watching and lighting, tears flowing down my face, and trying both suavely and frantically to wipe them away as the dancers got close to the downstage region, so they wouldn't see me awkwardly in the darkness.
I absolutely love being a creator, wouldn't ever ever want it any other way. I am very grateful that I was able to take a big risk, that I have a great partner, and that there are so many supporters that are making our org flourish.
So now we are in a new week...
Monday I crashed, cried, enjoyed my puppy and the weather, and regained my composure.
Yesterday I went to work, and had one of the first successes I've had in the arts at Tobin. The kids have been a hard sell on performing mediums, but I had a good sized group of girls trust me enough to do some theatre, and they had a great time. At the end of the day I got word of some interest in dance...
This week is grant-mania. Merli and I have 5 grants due this week, and a CRAZY project in mind. Wish us luck... We also have a bunch due over November and December. While we only have a year behind our belts, it was such a solid year. 2 self-produced performances, a statewide tour, invitations to perform in multiple fundraisers and festivals, a Boston Center for the Arts performance, invite to be guest lecturers at a MHC arts talk, a gala, a community outreach project... now a Mobius performance next week. We have no intention on losing momentum!
So that's life.... and non-life.
Friday, October 7, 2011
I'm sad, happy, numb, relieved, more sad, more numb.
We were running our show to prep for Seacoast Fringe this weekend, and I finally began to love my new piece. I had tears in my eyes at a moment or two, because it was finally becoming perfect, powerful, expressing just what I wanted it to say.
After packing up all of our belongings, chatting with dancers, getting a park bench into a station wagon etc, I read a text from my mom:
'Grampa is at peace, Auntie just called me. They just called her that he just passed away. I don't want to talk so excuse the texting. React with love and relief for him that he is out of the nightmare he was in in his broken body. Lisa told him we all love him and named us all to him and said he will be in our hearts forever.'
I passed his hospice/home on the way to rehearsal, passing through Needham, and had just said a few nice words and by usual 'hello' as I passed by without enough time to stop. I knew from my mom yesterday night that he had finally committed to dying, telling the nurses to freeze all of his Ensures, raising a fist to the Armenian national anthem, and then saying to family members that he was going to try to die now. Always a philosophical joker, this is all taken with a grain of salt.
Fast-forward to 10:59pm. I got that text from my mom and just have been a bit numb since. I've spent so long (7 months, really) preparing for this very moment, and now I'm just so unsure of how to react.
For some time I've thought this piece I am creating was linked to his death. I was wondering whether it would be linked with our October performance, or the November showing of the piece, and as I sit here I realize it is perfect. The new piece has found its finality, though yet to be performed, I've told the story correctly, and now he can go and find peace. Biologically/scientifically, who really knows if there is a link or a convenient overlap, but I like to believe in the power of my art sometimes.
I feel guilty that I am sad and a bit angry at his death. I've had so much wonderful time to visit and talk and prepare for death, but I feel so robbed and unsure. I feel guilty that I haven't visited in over a week, I am sad that I left him alone in the drab room with the dated floral window treatments and slow-moving nurses. Death's a real pain in the ass.
Looking forward to spending time performing this piece, and taking Luminarium to Portsmouth, not everyone has something they love so much to occupy a whole weekend and make them focus.
Sad, sad, sad, more sad. The end.
(because now I don't want to write anymore...)
We were running our show to prep for Seacoast Fringe this weekend, and I finally began to love my new piece. I had tears in my eyes at a moment or two, because it was finally becoming perfect, powerful, expressing just what I wanted it to say.
After packing up all of our belongings, chatting with dancers, getting a park bench into a station wagon etc, I read a text from my mom:
'Grampa is at peace, Auntie just called me. They just called her that he just passed away. I don't want to talk so excuse the texting. React with love and relief for him that he is out of the nightmare he was in in his broken body. Lisa told him we all love him and named us all to him and said he will be in our hearts forever.'
I passed his hospice/home on the way to rehearsal, passing through Needham, and had just said a few nice words and by usual 'hello' as I passed by without enough time to stop. I knew from my mom yesterday night that he had finally committed to dying, telling the nurses to freeze all of his Ensures, raising a fist to the Armenian national anthem, and then saying to family members that he was going to try to die now. Always a philosophical joker, this is all taken with a grain of salt.
Fast-forward to 10:59pm. I got that text from my mom and just have been a bit numb since. I've spent so long (7 months, really) preparing for this very moment, and now I'm just so unsure of how to react.
For some time I've thought this piece I am creating was linked to his death. I was wondering whether it would be linked with our October performance, or the November showing of the piece, and as I sit here I realize it is perfect. The new piece has found its finality, though yet to be performed, I've told the story correctly, and now he can go and find peace. Biologically/scientifically, who really knows if there is a link or a convenient overlap, but I like to believe in the power of my art sometimes.
I feel guilty that I am sad and a bit angry at his death. I've had so much wonderful time to visit and talk and prepare for death, but I feel so robbed and unsure. I feel guilty that I haven't visited in over a week, I am sad that I left him alone in the drab room with the dated floral window treatments and slow-moving nurses. Death's a real pain in the ass.
Looking forward to spending time performing this piece, and taking Luminarium to Portsmouth, not everyone has something they love so much to occupy a whole weekend and make them focus.
Sad, sad, sad, more sad. The end.
(because now I don't want to write anymore...)
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
black... or charcoal... or navy...
Whenever I wear clothing to a funeral it always becomes completely marked by the event. I do mean completely... a hanging instant association with sitting in a hard pew, or standing still in a cemetery while your heels are sinking into the earth, or many tears.
I just recently donated a dark blue and black kimono-esque top that I wore to my grandmother's funeral sophomore year of high school. I remember coming home from dance, and my mom sitting me down in our living room to tell me that Adie had a stroke and would never wake up from it. I remember staring as intently as I could at the cover of the TIME magazine on our coffee table so I wouldn't explode with questions and tears- it was the issue in memoriam of the Columbia space shuttle, which disintegrated when it tried to re-enter earth. On our drive up to Maine we stopped at Macys and I picked out the top thinking it was really quite awesome and I'd love to wear it again and again once life returned to normal, but that was never the case. There were many instances where I eyed it, hanging in my closet among other dressier tops, thinking how cute it was... but I could never really walk out the door wearing it.
A year-plus ago I went to Russell's grandfather's funeral. With no notice I grabbed the only black dress in my closet that I was in the mood to wear. It had some abstract polka dots, and was cut in an almost 40s, bordering on pin-up, style and it was stretchy and fun and I had thrown it on countless times. As I write this blog entry I now realize that I haven't worn it since that day, though I don't think it is as intensely/emotionally connected to a death as the above top.
Currently, I find myself waiting out the week- waiting for the inevitable phone call from my mom to let me know that my grampa has passed. Maybe it's shallow, but I find myself considering what the heck I am going to wear. I have so much black, charcoal grey, navy blue etc., but what will become the new marked item, or, do you instead dress to memorialize someone through what you wear? Where do the considerations fall? I guess many people would put their efforts into grieving and just showing up to the designated place at the right time, but perhaps our funeral attire, or at least my funeral attire, deserves more thought.
I just recently donated a dark blue and black kimono-esque top that I wore to my grandmother's funeral sophomore year of high school. I remember coming home from dance, and my mom sitting me down in our living room to tell me that Adie had a stroke and would never wake up from it. I remember staring as intently as I could at the cover of the TIME magazine on our coffee table so I wouldn't explode with questions and tears- it was the issue in memoriam of the Columbia space shuttle, which disintegrated when it tried to re-enter earth. On our drive up to Maine we stopped at Macys and I picked out the top thinking it was really quite awesome and I'd love to wear it again and again once life returned to normal, but that was never the case. There were many instances where I eyed it, hanging in my closet among other dressier tops, thinking how cute it was... but I could never really walk out the door wearing it.
A year-plus ago I went to Russell's grandfather's funeral. With no notice I grabbed the only black dress in my closet that I was in the mood to wear. It had some abstract polka dots, and was cut in an almost 40s, bordering on pin-up, style and it was stretchy and fun and I had thrown it on countless times. As I write this blog entry I now realize that I haven't worn it since that day, though I don't think it is as intensely/emotionally connected to a death as the above top.
Currently, I find myself waiting out the week- waiting for the inevitable phone call from my mom to let me know that my grampa has passed. Maybe it's shallow, but I find myself considering what the heck I am going to wear. I have so much black, charcoal grey, navy blue etc., but what will become the new marked item, or, do you instead dress to memorialize someone through what you wear? Where do the considerations fall? I guess many people would put their efforts into grieving and just showing up to the designated place at the right time, but perhaps our funeral attire, or at least my funeral attire, deserves more thought.
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