Every morning, as I wake up, like a long stare directly at the sun, the thought of Her not being with me rips me up like a sun hot knife through my mind and my heart. I chase the thoughts of Her out of my mind and almost right away start feeling guilty as if, somehow, doing so would mean betraying Her.
There is no rhyme or reason to this belief. In fact, She would prefer that I forget Her out right. But I can no more loosen myself from the gilded chains of my memories of Her than I can forget about the piercing shine of the Sun in my eyes. I revel in my pain, I hold on to it because letting go of it would mean letting go of Her.
An interesting conversation with the mind technician today. I have realised some time ago that at times I could be a total prick. I’m working on it. But now I am also realising that I am still devoted to Her and somehow feel guilty for doing stuff to occupy myself in order to forget about Her. How fucked up is that?
My little photography project is almost done. I just need to finish few more series, do laundry, and pack for a weekend out in the mountains. If only I didn’t have that whole “work for a living” thing taking up so much of my time.
The problem with photography in low light with an old camera is how much post-provessing is required. Not to mention culling dozens of shots to get to the good one.
Another full day. And then I had a conversation with a friend and I am still processing it. I will try to write about it. That’s it for now.
Warning: improv nerdery!
So as part of my super busy week, I am taking a number of improv workshops. One in particular has really resonated with me. It was rooted in a number of emotional acting techniques, such as those pioneered by Lee Strasberg, Meisner, and Stanislavsky.
One of the exercises consisted of two improvisers on stage acting out an emotion. No words – sounds and body language only. Of course, the one I got was love. I got through it without getting too weird. I think.
And then, as they say, shit got real. We did a Strassberg exercise called 12345. The idea is that all you can say is 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5 in any combination or order. The actual message is emotional: the improvisor has to tap into his own feelings and emotions and bring that out. But because the actual text is just digits which allows the improvisor to think of something that he/she feels safe and comfortable to unload whatever was weighing on their souls.
So I unburdened myself. It felt liberating, cathartic even. After the workshop, a feeling of easiness and warm energy filled my core. It did not last for the whole day. But it felt good and positive to do that. Even though I have been doing a writing equivalent of this here for the past two months, doing a vocal exercise gave me an extra dimension of the sharing experience.
Not sure what this will mean for the future but I’m interested to keep finding out.
This was my morning a few weeks ago (previously posted here: Day 25. Good Morning, World.). Unfortunately, this is not my regular morning but hopefully one day it will be.
So yesterday I mentioned about how being super busy was not leaving me any time to obsessively think about my failed relationship with the love of my life. It would seem, however, that this energy had to go somewhere and so I woke up at 4 am with a stomach ache that quickly turned into a full blown panic attack (not just an anxiety one) which finally culminated in me passing out on the bathroom floor. Good times!
Work, photography, photo processing, writing reviews… All work and no play makes me NOT OBSESS ABOUT MY EX!
Growing up as I did in a country where government restricted what people read, watched, said, it is perhaps of little surprise that one of my most favourite genres became science fiction. In sci-fi it is possible to say things about the future that the author might not be able to say about the past or the present.
Jumping forward to the present time, those who have been following my musings will realise that I got issues. So on my recent trip to the book store, this is what I got:
The “Feeling Good Handbook” was recommended to me by my mind technician. The Kathy Reichs book is because her books are really good. Can’t say I like the show “Bones” but the books are good. Christopher Moore is absolutely hilarious and I will read everything he writes. I suppose his genre is sort of fantasy but really, it is quite undefinable. And I could really use some cheering up right about now. The other three books are pure science fiction.
So what is it about sci-fi that is so enduring for me? The sci-fi genre is about imagining the most unusual of worlds and circumstances and putting ourselves there. So in that way, this genre is all about dreaming and exploring the unknown which usually signifies the here and now rather than the distant future. Between not being at peace with my Self and wanting to escape, it is easy to see why sci-fi has got such a hold on my soul.
So what shall I start with? Any suggestions?