sleeping in
downton abbey
dancing to loud music
mango smoothie
writing
waves on lake michigan
teaching
spontaneous meal with a delightful friend
nerding out about improv
peaceful solitude
It is fall.
Okay. Well, it’s not officially fall. We still have a few more days before the equinox. But here in Chicago, we’ve already had at least three nights in a row where the temps dropped down into the forties.
And tonight, I wore my puffy vest. 
So, yeah. I’m callin’ it. It’s fall.
I love fall. It is my favorite season. Apple cider, bright scarves, comfy sweaters, colorful leaves, crisp air, hayrides…. Oh, man. I just love all that harvest-y Samhain goodness.
But recently, all of my “Whoo-hoo! It’s fall!” comments have been met with sneers and jeers and woe-is-us’s. Hmph. And the reason? People are scared of the end of summer because they’re already thinking of the beginning of winter.
Ugh! Slow down, y’all! We’ve got a WHOLE season of orange and red and yellow before we get to the “w” word.
Cursing fall because you’re dreading winter is like cursing Sunday because you’re dreading Monday. And that’s just depressing. So, stop depressing me. You know who you are. We’ve got an entire delicious season of butternut squash soup at our doorstep. Please don’t be a grumpy host.
I, for one, am putting out the welcome mat for my dear, annual friend. And I hope you’ll do the same.
wind chimes, morning times
and
just enough sun, gentle almost-fall sun 
so
I did and didn’t do things. I did some things I shoulda and somethings I shouldn’t uh
but
the only thing worth mentioning… ah…
is
over the sand, past the green, on the stones, near the waves, under the sky
ah
or, actually:
Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh (not the screaming aaaahhhh but the post-massage aaaaahhhhhhhhhhh)
sublime
I love cows. I don’t know if any of you out there have spent any substantial amount of time with one or more of these ladies. But I have. Not enough, by any means. For sure, if I had my druthers, I would say that I would like to spend more time with cows. But I will say, that I’ve spent enough time face to face with a cow to know that they are delightfully pleasant creatures. Talk about an animal that can teach us a thing or two about just being. We don’t “be” enough. Y’know what I’m sayin’? I don’t know if elephants really are good at remembering. I’m sure there’s information out there about that. But cows do seem content. At least, the cows that I’ve had the pleasure of being in contact with seemed so. Of course, those gals had the luxury of a nice open field with lots and lots of green grass. I’m certain that cows that are pent up, crowded, and kept pregnant and birthing (so that they can produce milk for their babies humans) are way more agitated and sad than they are content.
Ahem. But I digress.
Where was I?
Oh, yes. I love cows.
I also love music. Who doesn’t? There is not a person on this planet who hates music. Every single person can claim that at least one piece of music has the power to move them. Right? Right. It’s what makes us human. Or is it? Who’s to say that music doesn’t move other creatures as well? Or, mooooooves them? (Sorry. Okay, I’m not really sorry.)
Anyway…. I just discovered this.
I LOVE THIS. It is absolutely beautiful. I am hoping that this is just the tip of the iceberg. Can we please have more musical performances for animals who are completely engaged in the entertainment? And videos are great, sure. But I am hoping to get a front row ticket to one or more of these concerts. Who can I contact about this? How do I get on that list?
Oh, I hope I have cow and jazz dreams tonight.
Lovely.
I’ve been
a fool
rushing
considerably more often than
I’ve been
an angel
fearing
definitely okay with that
I’ve gotten this question a lot lately.
Typically, if I go for a long time without performing, I get all antsy. It can happen in as few as 15 performance-less days in a row. But oddly and interestingly, I haven’t gotten too awfully antsy lately. This is definitely because a lot of my energy has been taken up with moving/unpacking/nesting. Also, summer is happening. And after surviving my fourth (I know! Can ya believe it?!) Chicago winter, spending the summer near the lake instead of inside a dark theater has been kinda nice.
The last time I went for this long without performing was when I first moved to Chicago. Again, I was moving/unpacking/nesting. That combined with being in a new city and not knowing anyone fostered an almost two-month period of no stage-time. I did kinda get a little crazy toward the end there, as I recall. But one of the upsides was that I ended up focusing all that creative energy into painting, drawing, and cooking fancy, inventive dishes.
This time around, I’ve been writing more.
So, I guess the answer to the question is: Probably not until the fall (unless I go crazy before then and manage to sneak in some solo work that’s been rollin’ around in my noggin). Until then, I’ll be thankfully teaching lots and lots, sharin’ some of my writings on this site, and maybe making some pies.
A decade ago, something like this would have made me very nervous. I defined myself by what I did, rather than who I was. So, if I wasn’t doing what I did, well, then who was I? I’m not sure if I have the clearest idea of who I am. But it’s certainly clearer than it was before. It’s a nice feeling, for sure.
Comfortable and satisfying.
So once again, I look down at the pages of my notebook–the one I use when I’m coaching improv, teaching improv, and directing shows–and I notice that a note I wrote for creating an engaging and sincere moment on stage applies to creating an engaging and sincere moment in life.
It matters less what we say to each other than how we feel about each other.
Yes, yes. So very true.