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June 28, 2005

Eat shit

This week, by happenstance, I am filling in for the deck manager on the California Shakespeare Festival's production of "Othello."

This means:
I'm dressed in an ill-fitting soldiers uniform,
complete with a beret, a gun belt,
and a pair of shoes easily 3 sizes to large.
(my predecessor is a boy, with large feet)

My job involves:
Cleaning blood off the stage at intermission,
carrying around tables and chairs,
moving light trees back and forth as fast as I can,
and, most notably, trying to place(set) and strike(remove)
an incredibly awkward large brown leather armchair
...which weighs about 65-70 lbs.

Tonight, my first night in costume,
I prepare for the dreaded chair move
(my first onstage entrance of the evening).
I get the thing hoisted onto my shoulder
with all the strength and grace I can muster,
and begin speed-walking from stage right,
the Duke in tow behind me.

I get about 6 steps into the maneuver,
-just far enough to be right in the middle things-
I trip over my ridiculous clown shoes,
and I eat shit.

Down go I, and the chair, in a heap.
I let a four letter word fly on my descent
(which was thankfully inaudible).

Amidst gasps from the audience and worried looks
from the actors witness to my swan song,
I scramble back up,
and use my newfound endorphins-
born completely of public humiliation-
to (with superhero-like might, I'll add)
throw this fucking chair over my shoulder,
get it to it's mark on the stage,
and get the hell out of there.

Totally humiliating.
*This* is why I am not an actor.
This is the kind of thing I don't want to have happening to me.

Posted by kati at 09:29 PM

June 25, 2005

Self sufficient, tonight.

Dinner at "Betelnut,"
a shi-shi, happening, place-to-be restaurant in the Marina.
Good conversation.
A sweet face.

...And fear.
Staring me down.
Over my entree.

Oh god.

Posted by kati at 12:25 AM

June 12, 2005

3 and 1/2 minutes

So, next Sunday from noon-4pm, there's a free concert in G.G. Park. Featured performers include: Hootie and the Blowfish, Better than Ezra, and Jem. While I couldn't care less about Hootie, as I still assume he'll be singing Burger King jingles, I like the other two groups.

Jem rocks, a lot. I think she's groovy.
I also feel a sense to listen for myself to B.T.E.
and decide whether I feel that Ezra's lawsuit of libel against the band was truly justified.

So... I thought: Why not make a thing out of it? Anyone interested?
I thought maybe people might want to go a bit early, scope out a comfy area for lounging, maybe have some munchies, and hopefully enjoy the great weather. People could kinda come and go as they pleased over the afternoon. We could have veagan peanut-butter cookies, beer, good company... anything we want!

Sound good to anyone? Any takers?
If people seem into it, I'll get more details together.

Posted by kati at 11:59 AM

June 07, 2005

Life without eye contact

Feeling satisfied, efficient, confident.
A little shaken up, as usual-
but maybe even a little bit proud of myself.
Much like a triumphant toddler,
too proud of her fingerpainting to notice it all over the walls.

And I wanted to share.
Looked for someone to care.
To help me believe that I'm on the right track.
But then it went bad
I gave up, I got sad.
By the end I just wished I could take it all back.

You said write it.
I wrote it.
I get so frustrated with myself sometimes.
Two steps forward. Five steps back.

Posted by kati at 11:07 PM

Foot tappin' good

In my seemingly unending quest for a useless theatre degree
from a semi-reputable institution...

It is possible, just possible
that next quarter I may just have
the bestest, bestest school schedule ever!
And Davis might not suck so much in the fall!

Take that, establishment!
I'm evening the score.

Posted by kati at 11:53 AM

June 06, 2005

Time Flies


View image

It seems so recently that we saw/ran into each other over Christmas. It was great how often that happened - us both being Far-East Bay kids. It's odd to think about how, when we were chatting after "Ghosts," that we joked about your never failing to pop up unexpectedly, much to my delight. I remember telling you how nice it was to always feel that I was inevitably bound to run into you again.

For so many years - since I was a little thing just starting out on the Cal Shakes summer-camp-esque Production track - there were so many chances to play. Heaving huge buckets of water into the air from backstage as actors in front jumped into the "lake" was always a treat; I remember that our consistant post-heave giggles were always masked by those of the audience.
Your abundance of innocent grins and big bear-hugs - like your unfailing provision of good chocolate - were a constant reminder of how many ills a good attitude can overcome. Your style of good humor and enthusiasm is a worthwhile asperation for any of us in the theatre, or really anywhere.

I was stunned with sadness and disbelief
when I learned yesterday that you had died.
Jared and Jean-Paul showed me the new plaque for you at the Bruns. I had to tell Janet and Brian about it, which was hard as well. It hurt a little to think I didn't know for so long after the fact, that I missed the memorial. Many times over the last day I've wanted want to pound my fist on the table and demand why this had to happen. To hear that the show you were directing was in tech, or thinking of your parents; its heartbreaking. Why is it always the best ones we have that lead such short lives? Why must these things seem so unjust?

But upon reflection - I can't think of single time when I saw you angry (or really anything less than sunshine-y), so my anger seems like an energy you wouldn't have bothered to waste. For you, then, I will endeavor not to waste mine.

I'm glad I got to meet your folks at least once. I hope they know how much a part of the Cal Shakes family they still are, and will continue to be. I hope they aren't strangers here, because they are forever a part of your wonderful nature, too.

I wish I could have said goodbye sooner, with all of your friends around.
Jared said the church was overflowing.
I'm sure it was a sight to see.
You were so loved; you still are.

They printed the poem from your wallet,
and a goofy but adorable photo (very you, really)
in the season program.
It's beautiful. Fitting.

I think that everyone who ever knew you realizes that, in fact,
you yourself are the best possible tribute to the greatness of your life.
Little more need be said.

"i thank You God for this most amazing day:
for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;
and for everything which is natural
which is infinite
which is yes"

--e.e. cummings
(from your wallet)

Bret C. Harte 1979-2005

A philosopher, friend, and total goofball.
It was a blast, man. I miss you.

Love, Kati

Posted by kati at 09:20 AM