Clownmommy

Last minute things to do

Buy tapes for the video camera

and batteries for toys…

Sparking wine for the Christmas morning mimosas…

Charge the camera and video camera batteries…

Water the tree…

Plan tomorrow mornings food shopping trip–gonna brave the crowds…

Is this room cold or has the blood from my fingers gone to my stomach to digest the cheese and crackers I’ve just eaten.  What if the heat’s gone completely out?   Oh how my mind wanders to holiday disaster scenarios.

I stayed at My Kid’s school past drop-off this morning, long enough to listen to the sing-along.  I am easily distracted from my to do list.  But, it was worth it.

Then I went into the Manhattan to search unsuccessfully for some accessories for a gift already in the pipeline.  What a waste of time.  I didn’t find what I wanted. What a waste of time.  I need to clean.  I need to shop for other things.  I need to shop for food.  So much for tasty treats for My Kids teachers.  Hey cut myself some slack, I organized the class gift.  But, I visualized giving them the dried fruit that they noticed in My Kids lunch…but I didn’t make it to Sahadi’s this week. Oh, well, as class parent I did put effort into organizing the class gift.  Oops I didn’t send any Christmas cards.  Too late now.  The Husband and My Kid are part Japanese, New Years Cards as a concept buys me some more time…  The candy canes finally made it onto the tree last night but the snowflakes and My Kid’s twelve tiny brass angels are still in the box.  Did I water the tree yet today?  

 I’m working on a clown festival application with a deadline of December 31.  Why did I wait so long?  What happened?  It was just Thanksgiving and now tomorrow is Christmas Eve.

My sister’s coming to visit–with her cat…kitty litter…  Does she still drink Diet Coke?  I don’t have any.  I’m such a bad hostess.

Times up! Gotta go pick up my kid so her vacation can begin.

There are two 8-year-old girls clomping around the apartment in heels with purses, cell phones, and an inordinate amount of play money.  I am not supposed to talk to them as that ruins the game. Ouch!

The Husband just updated my WordPress program and it took me several minutes to figure out what to do because “Write” as an option is gone, replaced by “Add New” which is not the same thing at all.  This is confusing to me because I go onto my Clownmommy dashboard and click “write” when I want to write.  I don’t want to “add new”. Frequently, I want to write about something that has been bothering me for days or weeks or even years.  I want to  write about same old.

I just got out of the shower, my second today. I didn’t get to the gym, but I allowed myself a nice hot mid-day shower because I am trying to get a handle on all this free-floating holiday stress. As a class parent I am way too anxious about the amount of money we have collected for teacher holiday gifts. I feel completely guilty because I have not been getting my maybe-she-has-a-cold-maybe-she’s-sick-maybe-she’s-just-tired kid to school on time. We’ve been 15 minutes or more late most days this week AND AS CLASS PARENT I AM SUPPOSED TO BE THE PERSON PEOPLE SEE AT DROP-OFF so they can give me cash for the teachers annual snowflake/snowman/polarbear/penguin secular holiday winter gift. I feel so much anxiety about this that it becomes obvious to me: This tiny task is a stand in for the anxiety I have about the larger economy in general and The Husband’s job in particular; various extended family members in various states of not-quite-OK; me producing a beautiful Christmas spectacular in my living room seven days from now including purchasing every speck of food and drink and toilet paper in advance because the stores are closed on Christmas Day (well maybe not TP the Korean deli will be open); clown work I am not promoting adequately; writing I am not doing; friends I am not seeing; Christmas cards I have completely blown off; how much energy–if any–will I have to devote to coaxing my spouse and offspring to a proper Christmas Eve Mass; when will I ever make it to the laundromat; the safety of Obama and his family; and as always–cleaning the apartment.

So I took a hot shower…

And as I was in the shower, I was remembering when My Kid was a walking baby and at the breastfeeding support group we were going around the circle sharing the ways we relive stress and I said I dragged the baby bouncer into the bathroom, sprinkled some Cherrios on her tray and took a long hot shower. I was very proud that I had a suggestion AT ALL! But, some buzz-kill PC mommy had to remind everyone that we should conserve water. I was chagrinned, embarrassed, guilty. Only in hindsight could I justify my position: “Hey I live in a walk-up, without a dishwasher and I have to cart my laundry (with my baby in a carrier on my back) several blocks in order to do it in a coin-operated public place. We had cars in Seattle but we don’t in Brooklyn. I think my global footprint is small enough to allow me take a hot shower to relieve stress when I am alone with a toddler and even though it seems like mid-day it could be ten hours before The Husband comes home from work!”
Wow!
That was a long time ago. Apparently I didn’t kill my kid. She is a beautiful confident 3rd Grader.
I just wish someone had been there to say “This too shall pass.” I am aware of how fast children grow. Yet…In the grand scheme of things– what future successful private practice medical resident can think beyond laying down to sleep within the next 30-minutes after being awake and working for 36-hours straight? Mommies are not much different.

After The Husband and My Kid left for work and school I drank coffee and thought about laundry, but I dressed for the gym and unlike other days when I put on sweats I actually made it to the Y. I didn’t get there in time for the class I had intended to take but I swam laps and took two other classes in addition so I’m feeling a little bit proud of myself. It counts as clown work because I’m not really in shape or have the stamina (to perform a full-length solo stage show) that I would like to have. On the way to pick up My Kid after school I stopped at a grocery store to buy some things for dinner, which I them proceeded to carry from Manhattan to her school in Brooklyn and then to the Barnes and Noble on Court Street and then to the Modells on Atlantic and through Atlantic Mall and the rest of the way home. Next time I’m going to the expensive corner store near our apartment. After supper I took the subway back into Manhattan to catch the last hour of Clown Lab because it was the first one in several months. Jef is back in town for the Broadway run of “Slava’s Snowshow” and I wanted to touch base with him and the regulars. “Snowshow” was reviewed by Charles Isherwood in the New York Times today. I found his description of the show as a “delightful kiddie curio” offensive even though it was a positive review.

Slava's Snowshow

We had a lively audience of people who were less than 3 feet tall. The Husband and My Kid were there and our friends with their 3-year-old and 6-month old. The performance felt a lot different today with so many little ones participating. Nobody really cares what we do when there are walking babies on the stage. Stakes are low and fun quotient high. It really worked today! Too bad we’re done.

There was talk of an extra show next week at the festival party showcase. But, we’ve got some scheduling issues in the cast and so we’re not going to do it again. I didn’t think it would ever turn anything more than a baby-music-circle-time-class on stage the first time we met to rehearse and got absolutely nothing done with the kids there in the space too. (But I’m a pessimist.) In the end we did develop something that was much more and it has potential to rise out of the diaper bags again.

I had a nice conversation with Amy Salloway who is in NY to perform her solo show, “Circumference”, at the festival. The Husband and I know her from Seattle when we were all in the fringe theatre scene out there. Amy said she was recently in Seattle and a lot of the funky old theatre spaces we use to know are gone. All slick and no charm now I suppose. She said the young people on Capitol Hill are all working a high maintenance goth look. Grunge was so a much easier. I totally used to wear a black skirt over leggings with Doc Marten boots with an oversized t-shirt under a plaid shirt on top. So did everyone else. (It bugged me so much when Bridget Fonda had it wrong in the movie “Singles” because she wore black nylons with her Doc Martens. The Hollywood foreigners co-opting our Northwest style got it wrong! Only opaque leggings or tights were ever worn under a skirt with Doc Martens!!!! (I suppose because I wore Doc Martens with skirts, I have no right to criticize the young ladies of New York in their UGG ugly boots.) Amy is loving New York and wants to live here. But how. How does one come up with the cash, or the job, or the relationship, or the scholarship to project ones self from the West or the Mid-west all the way to New York City to do theatre. It’s hard.

After we left the West End Theatre today, we walked down to 84th and had lunch at Ollies. Then we walked down to 72nd to catch some air before catching the train. That took about three hours because the 3-year-old and the 8-year-old had some shopping to do… My Kid introduced a pre-schooler to the wonder that is Claire’s. All those accessories. My Kid who does not yet have pierced earrings can’t get enough of the clip-ons. That store used to be for the tweens and teens who cruised the malls, but now with all the Hannah Montana, and Princesses and even Dora accessories, they’ve lowered their target market age to include the pre-school set.

Home now and My Kid is watching TV and The Husband is taking a nap.

My goal is to get them to the Brooklyn Lyceum by 8:00 pm tonight to see The Civilians “Brooklyn at Eye Level” at the Lyceum. It’s a theatre piece based on interviews with real people involved with the Atlantic Yards development (which I hate so much I could go on for pages and pages about how awful it is). The mommy friend we saw today is involved with The Civilians theatre company. Her biased opinion was that the show is great and we must see it.

OK blogging time is over now. My Kid is hungry.

Tonight I went to see Victoria Libertoire’s “The Should Dream”, part of the Six Figures Artists of Tomorrow Festival. My my mind wanders to what I would do alone on the stage. What would my show be??? For one thing I would wear more clothes. Burlesque is not my thing (especially after what I saw in the dressing room at the store today. My torso needs more Pilates than I can afford.) When I was pregnant I realized; “Damn I should not have been too shy to be naked on stage or in photographs.” That body was cute and now it’s gone. Forever.

Victoria had great rapport with the audience. The old performer that was the framing device at the beginning and end of the piece was my favorite part of the show. Some of the transitions were absolutely seamless. It was an admirable evening of theatre.

I’ve always wondered what a woman would do if she wanted to be a drag queen, I think it’s burlesque.

The Yellow Kid

Last night out in cyberspace I came across video of the 1995 Annex Theatre production of The Yellow Kid.  Seeing it again… an amazing production–so ambitious in scope for a Seattle fringe theatre company– has me revisiting what is important in my life and how I respect or disrespect my own art.

In a September 21, 1995 Seattle Times interview, Brian Faker told Misha Berson:

“The thrust of our play is the decisions an artist makes – what do you do just for the bucks, and what do you do for your heart’s inspiration? In the end Outcault actually murders the Kid, symbolically destroying something in himself.”

Low-budget production

The struggle to earn a living while maintaining one’s artistic integrity is one that Faker, 35, a versatile stage actor with credits in many Seattle theaters, knows intimately. Currently living on unemployment benefits, he scrambled together $1,100 to finance this shoestring fringe production.

“We’re doing `Miss Saigon’ at the Annex,” he laughs. “We’ve got 27 actors, a cat, a goat, two dogs, 200 slide projections, film, rolling scenery. It’s just a monster.

“We’re funding this completely out of pocket – and out of favors. My wife (actress Peggy Poage) is probably our biggest contributor. And a lot of other people just decided to go insane with me on this.”

 I was in that production and The Husband was in the booth as stage manager.  We began dating during the run.  A framed poster from the production hangs in our living room, next to photos of My Kid as a toddler in long yellow shirt.

Yesterday after the matinee, I decided to walk across Central Park and go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art by myself (instead of meeting up with The Husband and My Kid to see the new movie “Bolt” with the voice of Miley Cyrus.  My Kid needs to see it opening weekend.  Me I can wait…)  But, I didn’t enjoy myself, my feet hurt and I was tired and wandered around the museum without purpose.  By the end of the day I knew I was coming down with something.

Monday is the traditional day off in the theatre world.  I either have the standard “show-is-opened-and-now-I-have-time-to-be-sick” or I have the standard seasons changing cold. This week it got cold, really cold, find the hats and mittens, get the down coats out of the back closet cold.  This too seems to trigger illness in the city because of all sudden changes from hot buildings to cold streets to damp steamy trains–YUCK get me out of here.  Husband and I have noticed that since we moved to New York City the germs we’re exposed to cause much more spectacular illnesses than anything we ever experienced “Out West”.

So anyway, the show opened yesterday.  It was fun. There were tiny personages in the audience who didn’t know what to make of what we were doing.

When My Kid was tiny, we took her to see the Big Apple Circus and she watched Justin Case the trick cyclist and acrobat ride the bike that kept falling apart and she took it in totally straight.  She carefully watched a grownup do something, ride a bike, which she could not do but would learn someday.  She had no history with bicycles.  She did not know it was unusual for a bike to be ridden in a handstand, or turn into a unicycle.  Adults laughed.  My kid did not.

It’s tough to be the one to introduce a child to the concept of theatre.

The Girls Night Out mommy party I went to last night was a big deal.  It took over two weeks of e-mails to get a group of mothers who were hungry for a more conversation than the hi/bye of school pick-up and drop-off to get together with food and wine but without the spouses and children.

 So it took a little effort to get up and out and to rehearsal way up at the West End Theatre this morning.

Then after the rehearsal for our very minimal show, (Our set is made of cardboard boxes and brown paper.) I got on the subway to go directly to meet The Husband and My Kid in the West Village to see a matinee performance of the meticulously produced “Aurelia’s Oratorio” at NYU’s Skirball Center.

Photo by Richard Haughton.

Aurélia Thierrée in Aurélia’s Oratorio, written and directed by Victoria Thierrée Chaplin.

She is clown and theatrical royalty, her grandfather was Charlie Chaplin, her great-grandfather was Eugene O’Neill and her parents created “Cirque Imaginaire”  which influenced Cirque du Soleil.  We were lucky to see it as the show only played 3 performances in New York.