so, i woke up sunday wearing a hangover, accomplishment, and hives.
in no particular order... hangover. why can't red wine and a flask of whiskey work for once without making me sleepy and pruning my brainbuds? whatever. the music was yummy and the crowd not-so-young and not-so-crowded.
edith happened to be there and asked me what i was up to this weekend... or perhaps if i was done school? to either question i replied that i still had work to submit to her dad. ha. never said that at a party before.
accomplishment? even if the response you get is 'i thought you were a lesbian', telling someone you have a crush on them is rewarding and laudable.
hives. all over my body. itchy and painful. ruby suggested rust paint as the culprit. which could be likely... had i been around any recently. so far, no sleep times 2.
my brain is trying to sort out what i need to say for stephen's assignments. his classes always leave me with so many welcome and unwelcome questions. and observations. none of which are ever simple. or direct.
story telling. salesmen. masculinity. american drama. the family. redemption. death. naivity. money. impotency. baronness. pipedream. cadiallac. shame. silence. public. private. pleasant.
the way we acknowledge and don't acknowledge harvey, gabriel, simon.
is the story authentic?
one day after class stephen went on about lyric poetry and plays- how, as reader or audience, it doesn't matter if the story is true, it's how it affects us. if the feeling it elicits is authentic, we take it home with us.
if it moves you, you're stuck.
like a sermon. like a sales pitch.
this snippet from act 1, scene 2 of glengarry glen ross (mamet) puts dialogue to stephen's sentiment.
Moss: I lied. Alright? My end is my business. Your end's twenty-five. In or out. You tell me, you're out you take the consequences.
Aaronrow: And why is that?
Moss: Because you listened.
like the self-sustaining story, 'the family' is not designed to reveal truth but keep it concealed - it would shatter otherwise.
the stories in this class are representations of families. or vice versa. the families in these plays are stories. will the story destroy itself by the end? with truth? or will it sustain/reinvent, because we don't want it to not be there?
the american hero. dignity, and salesmanship. dignity and salesmanship?
how far do you have to move life to transform it into theatre?
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