You know, people always used to tell me, “Don’t work so hard. You’ll burn out!” and I didn’t really listen, because everything I was doing, I felt like I had to be doing. So working 60-80 hours per week was normal to me, as well as trying to make time for fun as well. I survived it and actually felt like I was actually thriving on it too. I certainly got a lot of shit done.

Anyway, lately I’ve been feeling burned out. Not because I’m exceptionally busy, because I’m not, really. I mean, I’ve had bursts of busyness, like at the improv festival last week. But on the whole, things are pretty easy for me. I work very little to get by, and could probably afford to take a few months off if I really felt like it. But I don’t believe this is good for me. I think that I’ve got some momentum and I should be carrying it through to whatever projects I want to accomplish next. Yet, I can’t shake the laziness. I’ve been kind of cruising on bare-minimum mode in the last few months. There are things I should be doing that I’m not. Like getting my passport up-to-date so I can travel, and redoing my websites for The Mouse Academy and photography so they’re actually relevant, and preparing for my exhibition in October, and a million other tiny, nagging things too.

Maybe writing this is enough of a kickstart to get me moving. Maybe not. But putting it down “on paper” is the first step… :nod:

Today seemed like a pretty perfectly lazy day. I got up fairly early, but accomplished nothing in the morning other than some TV-watching and web browsing. I watched 50 First Dates which didn’t suck as much as I thought it would. I’m no fan of Adam Sandler or Drew Barrymore, but both were very tolerable in this movie. In fact, I might even be able to say I liked this movie. :eyepopping:

I did some work in the afternoon, building a computer for a client. The computer wouldn’t boot when I turned it on. It just powered up and nothing came on the screen. Usually this means there’s a problem with the CPU, the motherboard, or the hard drive cables are plugged in backwards. I did the usual tricks… unplugging the hard drive cables completely, uninstalling and reinstalling the CPU… nothing worked. So, I just unplugged it. The rest of the diagnosis, which involves me dissecting one of my own computers for parts, is time consuming and didn’t seem suitable for such a relaxing Saturday afternoon.

Tonight I went to see Gary and Laura’s second wedding. They were originally married in front of a Justice of the Peace in a courtroom, but they wanted to save some money and have an actual wedding with the dress and the flowers and the reception too. So, that was tonight. It was pretty cool, actually. His parents are Christian, and she is part Native Indian. So, the minister read a Longhouse People poem thanking the stars, the moon, the sun, the animals, the forest, the Earth, etc. Her father performed an Ojibway blessing with incense and an eagle’s wing. It was cool. We don’t get enough exposure to other cultures in our daily lives, and this was a great way to see it.

Ok. I think I’ve fully recovered from last week’s Toronto International Improv Festival, which ended on Sunday night. It was a blast, but extraordinarily exhausting. Shooting all the mainstage shows, doing two morning photoshoots throughout the week, trying to be timely by uploading the photos to the festival gallery, as well as taking classes and trying to deal with my “day job” at the same time were somewhat overwhelming. For most of the week, my schedule was packed from 8am to 4am. I think I disappeared from everything else in my life that wasn’t completely mandatory. It was like travelling to an alternate universe. At the same time, I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything. I got to train and hang out with some of the most respected improvisors in the world. I met some new friends, and made some great contacts. I also refined my stage photography techniques, which pushed me and my camera to new levels.

I’m taking pleasure in the small things these days. Like last night, I was sleeping with the window above my bed wide open. The window on the other wall was open too, so there was a beautiful cross-breeze. The wind smelled pleasantly like rain, fresh and clean. It rustled the leaves of the ficus tree growing over my bed. That created just about the most peaceful and enjoyable moment of the last few days.

I observed a couple of really interesting workshops at Wilfred Laurier University in Waterloo today. They were improvisational music workshops for cellists and violinists, taught by Sera Smolen from Ithaca, NY. Sera turned out to be a really cool lady. As soon as I introduced myself as a teacher of improvised theatre, she said, “We should do something together!” Such a quick acceptance was a sure sign of a true improvisor. She mentioned that she had improvised music alongside dancers and poets, but never to theatre or comedy.

Anyway, the classes were fascinating. I couldn’t believe the parallels between improvised music and improvised theatre. Even the approach to the craft by students was similar. The main lesson Sera taught was that “There’s no such thing as a mistake.” This is the core to improvised theatre too. You can’t make a mistake. Anything that you do is your choice, and as long as you stick to it, it’s the right thing to do. Other exercises she taught were intended to build teamwork. Yet, there were other exercises that emphasized individuality for giving and taking focus within the group.

The first class was a group of kids about 8-10 years old. They were of varying skill levels, and their personalities varied greatly. Most were very shy in the beginning, but it quickly emerged which ones were the class clowns, and which were the wallflowers. Sera was very good at bringing them out of their shells, teaching a series of progressing exercises to build their confidence. When it was clear that they were frozen by not knowing what to do, she said, “When you go outside to play, do you know exactly what you’re planning to do? No, you just play! So let’s just play!” Soon, even the shyest kids were leaning forward in their chairs, totally engrossed in the class, anxious for their turn to play next.

The second group she taught were more advanced students. There were kids from about 12 to 15 in this group, and they were much more advanced. There was also a tiny, Chinese girl who looked like she was about 7. She sat on the chair and had to wrap her ankles around the legs of the chair because her feet couldn’t touch the floor. She had a very tiny violin too, which she played with incredible precision. She would bring it up to her chin and put it down like a machine. She was so cute it was almost painful.

Anyway, one thing I noticed today was that most of the Asian kids seemed to be quite afraid to improvise. Some of them even skipped their turns, although by the end of the class, they had gotten over some of the fear. I have been thinking about this stuff quite a lot over the years. I’m sure it’s not a racial thing, but a cultural one. Chinese culture promotes respect for authority, and also respect for elders. Learning is done by rote memorization). Creativity and independent thinking are not encouraged. Speaking up and being noticed are actively discouraged. Quiet accomplishment is the ideal in Chinese culture. Chinese kids are prodigious at playing from sheet music, and memorizing classical music. The Chinese language is heavily based upon memorization, so learning music is a breeze for those who learn to read Chinese. For this reason, here are many extremely talented Chinese classical musicians. But this type of talent is not useful in improvisation at all, which is based on invention and emotion. The evidence of this is that there aren’t many famous Chinese jazz musicians. I was glad to see the Asian kids in this class though, and seeing the smiles on their faces as the new skills are unlocked. :nod:

My other thought of the day is somewhat related. It’s a quote from the audio book that I’m listening to: “Dark Tower VI: The Song of Susannah” by Stephen King. “There is no love in thinking. There is only death in rationalization.” I’m not sure why that struck me so hard. I guess it’s because I’m on a journey to find my balance between thinking and feeling. For most of my life, I’ve been a thinker. But recent events and my improv experiences have unlocked the feeler in me. Maybe the quote made me feel like I’m saving my own life.