Thursday, December 31, 2009

mr. gilliam has the right idea

thank you maria

"go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you've imagined..."

today. . .












Wednesday, December 30, 2009

2010 forcast

Think of it as a psychodrama where those around you are merely playing out individual psychological factors within yourself.

Monday, December 28, 2009

from Greta Christina's blog...

I want to express my gratitude that in my world, having sex with someone, lots of times, before you settle down with them for the long haul, is generally considered, not only normal and acceptable, but sensible, obvious, and even self-evident.

I want to express my gratitude that in my world, premarital sex, never-marital sex, multiple sexual relationships, living together before marriage, living together without ever getting married, and so on, are all commonplace and generally accepted in much of the country, and indeed much of the world.

I want to express my gratitude that in my world, masturbation and oral sex are generally considered normal, mainstream, not even all that interesting… and things like anal sex, spanking, and bondage are generally seen as mildly kinky thrills at most, somewhat outre but really not all that wild compared to all the other freaky stuff people are up to. 

I want to express my gratitude that in my world, birth control is widely and easily available, and even advertised on national TV. I want to express my gratitude that in my world, sex toys, sexual information, and sexual entertainment are widely and anonymously available, and even joked about in sitcoms.

I want to express my gratitude that in my world, gay sex is no longer a crime anywhere in my country… and gay relationships have a fair amount of social and legal recognition in large parts of the country and the world.

Even divorce. Unhappy as it is, I’m grateful for divorce. I’m grateful that unhappy marriages that don’t work for anybody can be ended, without bringing ruin and disgrace to the couple and their family. I want to express my gratitude that in my world, it was relatively easy, and almost entirely unstigmatized, for me to get out of a marriage to a guy who was decent but a disastrous choice for me… so I could spend some time getting my shit together before I settled down with a partner who it actually made sense for me to settle down with.

It’s easy to take all this for granted. It’s easy to forget how different things were in my parents generation… and how radically different they were in my grandparents’.

It’s not like things are perfect now. Trust me, I get that. We have, among other things, a world with a glut of sexual imagery and a relative dearth of sexual information. We have a world in which there’s a lot of pressure to be an amazing sexual performer… at an increasingly young age. We have a world in which the mere mention of the word “penis” can be effectively used in the movies to generate enormous laffs. We have a world that’s still fairly uncomfortable with sex, and that often doesn’t know how to deal with it.

What’s more, we have a world where even these basic sexual freedoms and privileges are limited to very specific people and regions. Large numbers of people and extensive regions, but still very specific. We have a world where, in large parts of it, gay people are still being put in prison, and women are still being executed for adultery.

And of course, we have a world filled with plenty of people who are working like crazy to turn back the clock to the good old days… the days of sexual ignorance and secrecy and shame.

But things are better now. A lot better. We’re beginning, I think, to see sex as a normal part of a happy life… and to see sexual experimentation, with different partners and different kinds of sex, as a natural and sensible way to figure out who you are and what you like and whether you and your honey are compatible.

And I’m never reminded of that more vividly than when I hear about people who still live, for all intents and purposes, in the old world, the world of my parents and grandparents… and who are being made miserable by it.

Sunday, December 27, 2009

dear lady gaga



dear lady gaga, 

i love what you're doing with your music videos. they're fun, outrageous, theatrical, and there's so much going on. it's exactly what a pop video should be. you clearly have very fun people working for you. 

your music is okay. i admit, i listen to it and i dance to it. a lot. but it's on HOT 99.5 and it sounds like everything else on the radio. like all the other britney, xtina, mylie dance techno songs out there. 

you have the wacky, avant-garde fashion style that Bjork has, but the music of Britney. 

that's why you work, lady gaga. that's why you work. because if you had you're own sound, like bjork does for instance, you probably wouldn't be this huge. 

you sound like everyone else, your beats are current and satisfying for the month, and you have a very funky, (sometimes clunky, but we love you for it) new age/avant garde style, and that's why you work.  you work because you're not different at all, "but you are."

but you're really not. 

it upsets me, because you and your people and your label market you as someone so revolutionary. so talented. so cutting edge and inventive. 

no, no. you can't erase my history or feed me lies. i know my pop icons. 

and what you're doing has been done before. but, like any good artist, you steal from others what you like, re-shape them a little bit and fit them to your mold. 

but it sux being in the industry that you're in, becuase mtv and gossip blogs and 24hour cable documents every moment of pop culture and replays it constantly. so even though Madonna came out with her Sex book in 1992, and even though that's well over 10 years ago, trying to shock us with sex through pop music feels like yesterday and it's tired&old. the culture has been there and done that. 

you have a great set of pipes, ive heard you sing raw with your piano. don't get me wrong, i think you're talented and you have a lot of potential. but i can't help but acknowledge that you're still just some rich nyc jewish princess nyu drop-out, who- got- lucky. 

you're not reinventing jack shit. you and your people and your label are doing a fine job at building up this pop fantasy for you, and everyone has named you the 'it' girl, but why? because you're wearing freaky clothes, being loose in interviews, actually putting effort into your videos, and you're suddenly one of the most fascinating people, according to Barbara Walters, of 2009?  Where is the your individuality? where is your artistry?? where is your movement???

i don't see it in your music, and i don't see it in your overall style. (the outfits alone don't define a pop icon's style). i see the crazy outfits, but really, can you keep doing that alone for years and years to come?

dear lady gaga-- work on your music. that is the only thing that will have shelf life. and keep the dance beats. im not saying scrap it. but whatever it is, make it you. you are too much cookie-cutter-pop-icon right now. really, you are. you pretend not to be. but you really are. work on your music, make it you, whatever that is. and get away from this Fame/Celebrity obsession you're having with this current album. i know you're commenting on the concept of fame and celebrity in our culture blase blase, but REAL pop icons/artists (haha like im the expert) don't sing for 15 tracks about that shit. they have other pulses they want to hit. other fires they want to ignite. 

they start the fires. they don't bring back old ones. 

well, you are the same age as me. both born in 1986, you're a march baby and i'm a november baby. 

i'm curious to see how your career grows....

love, andrew

PS- this is ALL under the supposition that you want longevity. that you want shelf-life. i mean, if you're only trying to be a good dance hit for the moment, then by all means, jitterbug the zeitgeist while you can, then check out. i mean, we (by we i mean a lot of ppl my age), appreciate you and really like your music. but if you don't find your own groove, you won't have longevity. at the very least you'll provide 1) a great dance beat for "the now,"* (not later, or tomorrow), 2) a fun, inspiring soundtrack to the lovegames of "the now," (not later, or tomorrow), and 3) nostalgia, but that's when we're all old and crusty. 

* the now refers to right.now. like this instant. this instant on the dancefloor. this month when they play your hit and it feels right in our veins. the now next month will not be the now of now. there will be a new hit. probably by beyonce or someone. ya dig?

making sense of nonsense

a thought/first impression after reading alice part 1 (adventures in wonderland that is; through the looking glass and what alice found there is next)...

for me, and for many adults i venture to presume, reading (or even viewing) Alice in Wonderland is a sort of mind fuck. Carroll bombards you with nonsensical characters, verse, situations, symbolism, metaphor, and song. 

little is crystal clear, all is intriguing because you know there's truth and subtext buried in there (probably, well at least i hope so). and even though everything is nonsensical, the images are so vivid, you can't step away. you are wow'd just like alice is. 

and what i love is, at some point, (well hopefully), while you're reading-- maybe it's when you reach the lobster quadrille, at which point everything is so far gone at this point it just get more amusing then anything else-- at some point you're reading and you forget all the mumbo-jumbo close-reading BS you learned in college and you just enjoy the mad story exactly for what it is. 

& it's all make-believe. a dream. lewis carroll has this beautiful mini-chapter at the very end of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland from the pov of her sister, and her sister admires Alice's imagination...and even for a brief second she can hear and see herself in alice's very own wonderland world....but in a flash, when the wind brushes through the grass, she remembers her place in society and how make believe is not the here&now. how it all vanishes when the scent of reality sets in. 

her sister is us. us today. we flirt with make-believe for a half-hour sitcom, okay maybe a 2 hour movie or a play. but that's it. and we leave our make-believing up to a lot of OTHER people. we certainly don't really do it ourselves. Isn't that sad? 

i felt like a child when i was reading parts of this book. i felt like i was 5 years old again, playing dress up in my basement, dancing to funky music, playing with my animals, creating this vivid, real, very very very real and serious (but totally ridiculous but SERIOUS to me) world. i had companions, i had adventures, i had quarrells, i had highs and lows and tea and cake and sword fights and dragon duels ninja turtles and the batman soundtrack all in my basement. 

alice is a little girl in her backyard. the caucus race, the pepper, the cat, the flamingos, the king&queen of hearts, the rabbit, the hookah, the mock turtle et cetra, are all apart of her imagination. 

playing make believe as a kid, or with kids, is completely nonsensical. if you're adding sense to something you're not being a kid. sensical is not make-believe. alice in wonderland is total make-believe. i think to some degree is shouldn't be overly hashed out or critiqued. it should be taken for what it is. with less thinking and more dancing. 


will you won't you will you won't you join-the-dance??



god. i love it. 


Saturday, December 26, 2009

loose girl

Maybe, I think, I don't have to be great at this; maybe I just have to be good enough.

yale

They bring to the School of Drama a wide range of sensibilities, but they share some crucial qualities. They are generators of ideas and projects. They are not afraid to take risks, and they take responsibility for the philosophical and political implications of their work. They have a deep respect for the artists with whom they work. Above all, they have lively imaginations, an appetite for hard questions, and a robust curiosity about the world beyond their own cultural borders.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

every atom in your body came from a star that exploded. and, the atoms in your left hand probably came from a different star then your right hand. it really is the most poetic thing i know about physics: you are all stardust. you couldn’t be here if stars hadn’t exploded, because the elements - the carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, iron, all the things that matter for evolution and for life - weren’t created at the beginning of time. they were created in the nuclear furnaces of stars, and the only way for them to get into your body is if those stars were kind enough to explode. so, forget jesus. the stars died so that you could be here today.

Monday, December 21, 2009

Hay Fever at George Mason









The Great Tennessee Monkey Trail by the L.A. Theatre Works at George Mason










Say Goodnight, Gracie at George Mason















Take Me With You, Wyclef Jean! at George Mason



Advanced Studies in Bio-Terror Defense with the FDA and US Military








Infinity at Theatre of the First Amendment's First Light Festival


















Inheirting Cleo at the Source Theatre's Ten Minute Play Festival





May 39th/May 40th at the Capital Fringe Festival






Full Circle October 26-November 29 at Woolly Mammoth





















Sunday, December 20, 2009

Top 5 Theatre Productions of 2009

The following productions of 2009 took my breath away. If I was able to, I went back and saw them more than once! And what's great too is that I saw these shows with some of my very best friends.

Design for Living
by Noel Coward
directed by Michael Kahn at the Shakespeare Theatre Company





I had a love affair with Noel Coward this year, first with having directed HAY FEVER in February at GMU. For many months I submerged myself in his words, world, and life. And there's so much more to him that I look forward to learning throughout my life. I want to direct more of his works and I want to act in his works. Two very big dreams of mine. I took a trip up to NYC over the summer to see his BLITHE SPIRIT on Broadway (starring Rupert Everett and Angela Lansbury- she won a Tony for her role in this production as the medium). It was alright-- pretty basic, really, and done on a large scale for Broadway audiences.

It was this production at the STC that I absolutley fell in love with. I saw it three times. I've always been drawn to triangle relationships, and this play has a very complex, ridiculous, and beautiful one. I found the journey of the characters, all three of them artists, very fascinating. And by the end, they all decided to reject the accepted, social conventions of society and form a different design for living that really suited their particular situation the best. It's a courageous play and I love it to pieces; it resonnates for me on many levels. So many hilarious and vulnerable and beautiful passages in the text. As for the production itself, it was flawlessly done-- the acting, the sets, the costumes, everything. Having the luxary of seeing it three times at different moments during it's run, it was a joy to see how the actors were growing into the roles. They were having so much fun. And I remember laughing so hard, guffawing till my body was literally weak, at certain moments. The scene at the end of Act II, when the boys start drinking, was brillantly and hysterically staged. So many beautiful moments, tucked away in this piece. I'll carry it with me forever.

I saw this production 3 times, first with Michael Deveney, 2nd with my sister Leslie (after the show Colleen the ASM I knew from TFA First Light took us on a backstage tour of the Lansburg), and 3rd with Kathleen Mason, on the day news broke that Michael Jackson died. With Leslie it was free since Colleen comped us in, but for the 1st and 3rd time it was only a $10 ticket!!

Flattery doesn't enter into it. We are different. Our lives are diametrically opposed to ordinary social conventions; and it's no use grabbing at those conventions to hold us up when we find we're in deep water. We've jilted them and eliminated them, and we've got to find our own solutions for our own peculiar moral problems.

There's no sense in stamping about and saying how degrading it all is. Of course it's degrading; according to a certain code, the whole situation's degrading and always has been. The Methodists wouldn't approve of us, and the Catholics wouldn't either; and the Evangelists and the Episcopalians and the Angelicans and the Christian Scientists-- I don't suppose even the Polynesian Islanders would thin very highly of us, but they wouldn't mind quite so much, being so far away. They could all club together--the whole lot of them--and say with perfect truth, according to their lights, that we were loose-living, irreligious, unmoral degenerates, couldn't they?


But the whole point is, it's none of their business. We're not doing any harm to anyone else. We're not peppering the world with illegitimate children. The only people we could possibly mess up are ourselves, and that's our lookout. It's no use you trying to decide which you love best, Leo or me, because you don't know! At the moment, it's me, because you've been living with Leo for a long time and I've been away. A gay, ironic chance threw the three of us together and tied our lives into a tight knot at the outset. To deny it would be ridiculous, and to unravel it impossible. Therefore, the only thing left is to enjoy it thoroughly, every rich moment of it, every thrilling second!

--

King Lear
by William Shakespeare
directed by Bob Falls at the Shakespeare Theatre Company



I have never seen Shakespeare done like this before. Never. Mr. Falls had his concept for this piece so sharply concieved, I never second-guessed it. Whenever I see Shakespeare that has a 'concept' attached to it (which is basically all the time now), watching the piece seems to become more about "how did that concept work with the play?" rather than "how was the play?" I suppose with all of Shakespeare's plays the question "how was the play?" is tired and old, seeing how they're all good and been done so many times. But focusing solely on concept concept concept takes away from my experience from enjoying and following the play itself. No, I'm not tired of these characters or these stories yet, thank you very much. And if you're going to be one of those directors that likes to take Shakespeare and masturbate with some smartass concept, then please don't invite me.

Mr. Falls's concept was brillantly concieved and never for a second did it take me out or distract me from Shakespeare's piece. It actually hightened it and brought it to life in a way that I never could imagine. The theatricality was raw, it was intense, it was grim, it was arresting, it was an incredible experience. I have never seen such fireceness in an actor as I have with Stacey Keach. He was an animal, and he completley disappeared into the character. My mentor, friend and teacher Ed Gero was completley heartbreaking and stirring to watch. These four men (Shakespeare too) inspired me a great deal that night in July. They showed me the caliber of artistry I intend to aspire to. If you're going to do this business, do it right. Do it like this!

I saw this show on a hot Tuesday in July with Amy! I remember I went to the Harman right after work at Special Counsel and Amy met me there-- she parked at CUA and took the metro from there. She brought snacks, god love her, and I tried unCrustables for the first time, LOVED THEM!! After the show Ed gave us a quick tour backstage- I was speechless, I remember. He comp'd us in too. Such a great night.

Come not between the dragon and his wrath.

--

A Streetcar Named Desire
by Tenneesee Williams
directed by Liv Ullman at The Kennedy Center



A true love affair with Tenn Williams began this year. Reading CAT ON A HOT TIN ROOF in college in the spring, going on a Williams literary tour in the French Quarter in New Oreleans with Marisa over the summer, which took us to all the various apartments he lived in, and this production, has catapulted an obsession with this man. I'm very excited to read many of his major works early next year when I'm in Europe and to see the all-black production of CAT in the West End.

The only experience I have ever had with STREETCAR before this production was reading it once in Acting II class with Kaiulani Lee freshman year, horribly portraying Stanley in a random in-class exercise, and the iconic film version with Marlon Brando and Vivien Leigh. The film is great, but I have to admit a little distant for me. Amazing actors the both of them, but it never really made Williams palpable for me. After reading STREETCAR, along with GLASS MENAGERIE and NIGHT OF THE IGUANA later in college, I became obsessed with his master lyricism and fantasy and the characters and world that he created are so complex and theatrical and honest. Cate Blanchett's portrayal of Blanche, though, was exactly what I needed to bring him to life, give me the Williams that I started trying to invision in my head. Reading a play is so fucking different than seeing a production. It's only a sliver of it all. A play is just paper, a skeleton for a performance. Not really meant for reading, more of a manuel. Seeing this production-- the first production of Williams I've ever seen-- sealed the deal.

It overwhelmed me. I was blown away by the production, the direction, the performances-- both Stella and Stanley were excellent too. So many things were going through my mind as I watched Blanchett's Blanche--- here, right in front of me, is my Goddess Actress, one of my favorites in all the world, and I am watching her fucking NAIL this part. She disappeared into the role, this was not the Cate show. It was Williams's show. And that's what I loved.

I spent almost an hour online buying these tickets in August. It was so frustrating, but it ended up being the best birthday presents ever (thanks dad). Saw this show the day before my 23rd with some of the best ladies in my life: Amy Jacobs, Emilie Fagot, Kathleen Mason, Sarah Hart and Emilie's mom Miz Liz. Kathleen drove Em, Sarah and I, we met Miz Liz there and Amy took the metro in since she had to go to work immediately after the show. My ticket was almost $80!

I don't want realism, I want magic!!


--

August: Osage County
by Tracy Letts
directed by Anna Shapiro at The Kennedy Center



Wow. This production fucking blew my mind. Both times I saw it. I love family dramas, you know the ones where shit his the fan. Yeah, those. I can relate to those. I have a lot of fun with those. This was my kind of play.

Such a well-written machine. Fabulously acted. Estelle Parsons, who I loved in the show ROSEANNE, was absolutely ridiculous. Played this part with such ferocious honesty and hilarity. There was nothing frou-frou or ultra-conceptual with this show-- it's language and it's issues were raw and gripping and so close to real life. And all the interwoven storylines corkscrew around and around which left me literally on the edge of my seat, gasping loudly in shock, awe and surprise and blurting out enormous guffaws. The experience of this show was what got my goats going. A really REALLY good soap opera!!

The actress who played Barbara had some serious pipes. Fat aunt Mae was great, too. There were certain points when, upon reflection, I wondered why Mr. Letts didn't go deeper and there were certain, very brief, moments in Shapiro's staging that confused me. But regardless I thought his use of TS Eliot was a brillant metaphor and her execution of this family meltdown completely fabulous. This play, along with STREETCAR, inspires more and more of my playwright side. I know I've got quite a family drama play in my system just waiting to come out. I can't wait to write it one day and contriubte to this canon. Saying it now: 5 years tops, we'll see a movie version hit theatres. I hope they get the casting right. HA! Just checked IMDb and there's one already in development. 2011 they're saying.... i knew it!!

Saw this show twice! First was exactly one week after STREETCAR and on their opening at the Kennedy Center. We joined the Attend program and got great ticket deals. I went with Patrick Magill, Aaron Fisher and Ariana Hodes. The second time was much later in mid December with Leslie. I had to bring Leslie on the 2nd go of this show because I just knew she would understand the dynamics of this play like I did-- and we could laugh and experience it together. Both times my ticket was under $25!

Ivy: HIS NAME IS CHARLES! SHUT UP! (slams plate on the floor)
Barbara: (quick beat) Oh, so we're breaking stuff now are we? (breaks plate, breaks plate)
Violet smashes her plate too.


--

Too Much Light Makes The Baby Go Blind: 30 Plays in 60 Minutes
by the Neo-Futurists
at the Woolly Mammoth Theatre Company



Completley inventive. I've never seen anything like it before. 30 short plays done in 60 minutes-- some very short, some longer, some movement-based, some beautiful poetry, some invovled audience interaction, some singing, some painting, some was clown/mime based, some were hilarious and some were sad. This was just one of the most exciting 60 minutes of theatre I've ever experienced. So much laughter and heart rolled up within the hour, it left my creative soul feeling very lifted.

Less is more, truly, with this production. Seeing this show grounded me a bit. My four other top productions of the year were very, very big theatrical experiences. Amazing, but huge. This was intimate, vulnerable and yet probably the most theatrical. It grounded me in the sense that smaller techniques of storytelling shouldn't be neglected, ever. They are just as powerful. And it got me thinking outside the box, as a storyteller/aspiring theatre creator/artist.

And the group of Neo-Futurtists, 5 of them at Woolly, all write and direct and perform their own pieces. I love this ensemble-based work. Each of them were reallly engaged with the audience at Woolly. I got to meet one of them after the show and they bought the entire audience a pizza! I'm going to be watching out for their work, and others like it. I really want to incorporate some of their techinques somewhere somehow into my aesthetic.

Saw this show once, on their PWYC night at Woolly-- their first performance of the run. Saw it with Kelly Hennessy and Patrick Magill. I remember Kelly and I had a great day. Met her at the mall, bought her a new coat at Macys. Taco Bell, McDonalds. Drove to Woolly via 66 messed us up, took forever to get there, but we talked up a storm on the way there. Met Patrick, waited in line forever, but ended up with the best seats. Patrick and other peeps saw it again a few nights later but I couldn't go cause I was having a fab happy hour with some ladies from Special Counsel. Ticket was free!!

JT: And when he takes my hand. He is a bouquet of balloons on a string in the woods floating untangled through each tree limb. There is no soundtrack playing, only breath. No bread crumbs leading back home. Only breath. And when I say “he” I mean “us”. Because he makes me feel like I’m the one that is floating. Like I’m the miracle.

Saturday, December 19, 2009

body & mind

Lady Chatterley's Lover deals with a woman escaping her mind and discovering her body.

Sapphire's Push is just the opposite. A woman ravaged by her body, and who then learns how to discover the power of her mind. Kerry Cohen's Loose Girl follows this path too.

Hmmm...

Lady Chatterley's Awakening

the only way out of nothingness is tenderness
--

Yet in some curious way it was a visionary experience: it had hit her in the middle of the body. She saw the clumsy breeches, slipping down over the pure, delicae, white loins, the bones showing a little, and the sense of aloneness, of a creature purely alone, overwhelmed her. Perfect, white, solitary nudity of a creature that lives alone, and inwardly alone. And beyond that, a certain beauty of a pure creature. Not the stuff of beauty, not even the body of beauty, but a lambency, the warm, white flame of a single life, revealing itself in contours that one might touch: a body!



The voice out of the uttermost night, the life! The man heard it beneath him with a kind of awe, as his life sprang out into her. And as it subsided, he subsided too and lay utterly still, unknowingly, while her grip on him slowly relaxed, and she lay inert. And they lay and knew nothing, not even of each other, both lost. Till at last he began to rouse and become aware of his defenseless nakedness, and she was aware that his body was loosening its clasp on her. He was coming apart,; but in her breasts she felt she could not bear him to leave her uncovered. He must cover her now for ever.





It's not good trying to get rid of your own aloneness. You've got to stick to it all your life. Only at times, at times, will the gap be filled in. At times! But you have to wait for the times. Accept your own aloneness and stick to it, all your life. And then accept the time when the gap is filled , when they come. But they've got to come, you can't force them.

I look at women who's never really been warmed through by a man, well, they seem to me poor dool-owls after all, no matter how they may dress up and gad. No, I'll abide by my own. I've not much respect for people.

That's what I wanted: a woman who wanted me to fuck her.





But I wouldn't preach to the men: only strip 'em an' say: Look at yourselves! That's workin for money!-- Hark at yourselves! That's working for money. You've been working for money! Look at Tevershall! It's horrible. That's because it was built while you was working for money. Look at your girls! They don't care about you, you don't care about them. It's because you've spent your time working an' caring for money. You can't talk nor move nor live, you can't properly be with a woman. You're not alive. Look at yourselves!

It was pleasant in a way. It was almost enjoyment. But anyhow, with all the cocktails, all the lying in warmish water and sunbathing on hot sand in hot sun, jazzing with your stomach up against some fellow in the warm nights, cooling of with ices, it was a complete narcotic. And that was what they all wanted, a drug: the slow water, a drug; the sun, a drug; jazz, a drug,; cigarettes, cocktails, ices, vermouth. To be drugged! Enjoyment! Enjoyment!






C: Shall I tell you? Shall I tell you what you have that other men don't have, and that will make the future? Shall I tell you?
M: Tell me then.
C: It's the courage of your own tenderness, that's what it is, like when you put your hand on my tail and say I've got a pretty tail."
M: That! Ay. You're right. It's that really. IT's that all the way thorugh. I knew it with the men. I had to be in touch with them, physically, and not go back on it. I had to be bodily aware of them, and a bit tender to them, even if I put 'em through hell. It's a question of awareness, as Buddha says. But even he fought shy of the bodily awareness, and that natural physical tenderness which is the best, even between men; in a properly manly way. Makes 'em really manly, not so monkeyish. Ay! It's tenderness, really; it's cunt-awareness. Sex is really only touch, the closest of all touch. And it's touch we're afraid of. We're only half conscious, and half alive. We've got to come alive and aware. Especially the English have got to get into touch with one another, a bit delicate and a bit tender. It's our crying need.





Be tender to it, and that will be its future.

And he realized as he went into her that this was teh thing he had to do, to come into tender touch, without losing his pride or his dignity or his integrity as a man.

Well! he said at last. I agree to anything. The world is a raving idiot, and no man can kill it: though I'll do my best. But you're right. We must rescue ourselves as best we can.

It was sheer relaxation on his part, letting go all his manhood, and sinking back to a childish position that was really perverse.

You can't insure against the future, except by really believing in the best bit of you, and in the power beyond it.

What misery to be Don Juan, and impotent ever to fuck oneself into peace, and the little flame alrigh, impotent and unable to be chaste in teh cool betweens--whiles, as by a river.