babybeezer

Okay, I'm going to give in and write about school, and accept that I have no other life or insight to share.

Yesterday for out warm up/conditioning class, instead of rolling out the wrestling mat and getting our ass kicked with cardio and stretches and push up, ect, we were all told to meet in the theater, where out teacher and all the 2nd year MFAs were decked out in leotards, leggings, leg warmers, sweat bands and blue eyeshadow and we did a super 80s aerobic/dance work out video. As we're dancing around to some super sweet 80s tunes doing such dance moves as "sway mysterious" "the gypsy" and "play those bongos!" I have to stop and indulge myself in a nice shit eating grin because I'm a grad student getting class credit to jump around to 80s music like an asshole.

I love grad school for crazy theater people.

Another example:

Right now we're studying Commedia Dell'Arte (it is, after all, the Dell'Arte International School of Physical Theater founded by Carlo Mazzone) and we've constructed our own masks by first making plaster positives of our faces, then using clay on top of the positive to make the mask, and then paper mach- paper machei- paper machie (I don't even know how the fuck to spell that and I'm too lazy to look it up) anyway, papered over the clay with paper bags soaked in water and then coated in wallpaper paste. So every afternoon I run around with hardened paper bag goo on my face and act stupid/irritating/like an asshole and it's art. Sweet.