Australia was a place where I found peace. I found strong friendships. I found love of life, welcoming people, and adventure on a regular basis. I cannot accurately communicate how much my time there meant to me. As such, it should be no surprise that, while there are some good things happening currently, overall being back "home" has not been an easy transition. Yeah, it's been a few months now. In fact, it's been almost the full length of the semester already. But those few months I spent thousands of miles from my current location were formative and life-changing months.
I don't think a day passes that I don't tell someone a story about Oz. Certainly, I talk to someone from the trip every day--usually more than one person. Before the summer was over, I took two trips to visit friends from ASC. I traveled by plane to visit Toby in Connecticut, which was an absolutely fantastic few days. I got to meet several of her friends, her mom, and even got to go to Maine for my first time. The trip was well worth the effort to get up there and she and I have plans for other trips to see each other again within the next few months. Just before I left for that adventure, Rachel stopped by my house for basically 1 day. This was also a fantastic visit and I eagerly anticipate the next one. Then, on my way back from CT, I got to have dinner with Alessandra and her sisters in Charlotte. Such wonderful people. I'm so lucky.
A few weeks passed and I got the itch to travel again. Thus, looking at various options at to where I should go, I finally picked Michigan by way of Indiana. By going this route, I got to stop at my sister's new house in Kentucky, as well as get lunch with Amanda. Visiting with her was such a blessing. I can't wait for her wedding! Then, I continued up to Michigan where I stayed with Ryan for just a couple days. We went to the Henry Ford Museum, Ryan made me pancakes and steak (not at the same time), and we completed a very large and difficult puzzle. And... within a couple weeks of my visit, Ryan got engaged. I can't wait for his wedding too!
I drove home from Michigan through Ohio and Kentucky, enjoying a gorgeous day by myself in my car. I listened to music, had Lady Gaga dance parties with myself, and even called a few people while I drove. It was a wonderful end to the summer. And then, a couple days later, I moved back to Milligan.
Getting back into the normal flow of things has not been easy. I have a pretty full schedule, a good-sized class load (though it looks small on paper), I'm stage managing The Secret Garden, I'm finding a lot of my old friendships have faded quite a bit (interests change, people change, that's life...). And I'm starting to miss the people and things that made Australia so fantastic more and more each day. During Australia, I was pretty much stress free. Being back, it's like all of that stress I stayed away from last semester has come flooding back into my life. I'm trying to figure out what I do with all of the things I learned during my time abroad. I'm trying to figure out how to maintain the close relationships I made while I was gone. I'm trying to figure out how to fit back in with the people here. And to be perfectly honest, I'm having a hard time figuring any of it out.
Australia is seeming more and more like a dream every day. And I feel like I'm in that moment of waking where I'm saying, "Wait, wait, stop fading! Please let me sleep for five more minutes. Please let the dream pick back up where it left off... I don't want it to be over..."
11 September 2011
28 June 2011
Toast and Cereal
This was my final paper for one of my classes in Australia. I wrote it as a short story. It's pretty self-explanatory and is as good of a summary of my semester as I can give at this time.
“Fiction reveals truth that reality obscures.”
–Ralph Waldo Emerson
“There was reality and there was reality;
and some things were more real than others.”
-Neil Gaiman
Toast and Cereal: Seeking A New World
Stepping off into the new, he knew that the old would never be seen in the same eyes again. By the time he'd return, the old world would be gone. What's more, his vision would be different. This wasn't necessarily bad. It could be quite good. It was to be different, exactly how much he could not know. He simply knew the old house that he walked away from would not look quite the same upon his return. And if that little child in his heart were to sneak up again, he'd suddenly not be so little. The young don't stay so for long. But it was time to go. So he did.
Behind him, he left little. Behind were memories, those things in constant flow, hard to hold onto. They move out of sight before long. As do friends. Before the new, Rose left pursuing her career and a man. Traces of Jewel were few. She was naught but a fond collection of images, a smile here, a shrug there. Her disappearing act, whether by her own devising or not, was an unprecedented success. She was gone and nobody knew where.
And, in the midst of sadness, the man left too. He paused all his work. In a sense, the paint was still wet when he could no longer take it. He packed little. And he left. The few times others stopped him to ask him why he was going, he shrugged. For adventure, he'd say. To get out. It just seems like the thing to do. To see something different. These were all valid reasons. And they were all true. But there was more. The truth was that he was unhappy and he left hoping to find peace.
Peace, however, was not to be found. In the new environment, he certainly found many new friends. He found people he would grow to call family. He found incredible perspectives that differed from his own, though that is not to say they were somehow lesser than his. They were just as valid, just as important as his own. He found himself a struggling believer in the midst of several strong believers. He found himself challenged and uncomfortable. He found himself being sucked into conversations and thoughts in which he never expected to be interested. Such an environment does not create peace. Instead, it upsets and stirs up a person. It pushes and prods. Despite his hope to find peace, he found the warfare of a new social environment all about him. And he smiled.
The days in the new began earlier than he was used to in the old. He rose shortly after the sun. After a quick bite of toast and cereal, he would pack his bags and go out the door. Shortly after the new began, the early mornings became routine. Yet the new continued to shine even as routine fit in. Due to the use of public transportation, new faces met his eyes every day. He would smile and nod, occasionally saying hello to the people of the city. The people of the city were, in his eyes, the people of the country. They were men and women different from him simply because they were used to the new. They were the people whose routines had been occurring for years. They were the people who knew about the history and the society of the new long before he was to learn of it. During his first few interactions with these people, he believed that they were all already experts of the kind of life he was in the process of discovering. They were those who called the new old. It was among them, he believed, that he would discover the happiness that he so fervently sought. He, however, was soon to find out that the people of the city, the people of the country, the people of the new, they were nothing more than people. They were the same as him, no more, no less, just different. It was interest in such people that led him into conversations with them.
“Myths are those conceptions we have about the people around us and the history of those who came before us. They are not necessarily false conceptions, but they are not necessarily true conceptions either. It is important to be aware of the myths that can be found within modern culture, specifically those speaking of the past.” The room was busy, full of comers and goers. Dim lighting, loud music, and constant conversations took place everywhere that people weren’t either dancing or buying drinks. That is to say, the conversation was taking place in the sort of locale many good conversations take place: a late night pub.
He’d wandered into this pub by recommendation of the man who owned the house in which he was staying—a man nearly three times his age who lived far differently than anyone he had ever encountered before. In time, he would grow to love his newfound friend and mentor, but the conversation in the pub took place in the early days before that relationship had truly grown. It was simply to be polite that he had even followed the older man’s recommendation—loud pubs full of dancing crowds were not the kinds of places he typically enjoyed; he much preferred the quiet kind of pubs, the ones where the customers sat with their drinks contemplating. But, in his politeness, he found his way into this loud pub, unsure of what he was going to do once he got there—after all, going to a pub by oneself is not typically an action of those who are not looking for comfort in drink. The man he was talking to now was one he had just stumbled upon unintentionally. He had simply chosen a random empty seat, the next one over from the man.
“Nic Cage,” the man said when asked his name.
“Really?” Obviously the man was lying, but why bother about it? His real name was unimportant. “That’s interesting. So, what were you saying about myths?”
“They’re everywhere, mate. You see, for instance, the majority of these people in this pub would say their ancestors were convicts but only small ones, ones who hadn’t really committed any big crimes; they would say their ancestors were unjustly brought to this country. That’s what the majority of the people around here would say. But then, most people want to be viewed as better than they are.[i]”
“That makes sense. I certainly want to be seen that way.”
“Exactly, mate. Now, the other big myth of these parts has long been proven wrong. People used to say this land was one of terra nullius. You know what that means?”
“No, I can’t say I’m familiar with the term.” He took a drink of his lemon, lime, and bitters—a drink of the new, one he had never had back in the old.
“It’s the idea that a land’s null of inhabitants, free for the taking, open, nobody here. Well, when people said that this land was one of those, they were lying. We had people here all right. Just as you had people in your land. We took over, invaded, called them lesser beings and went about our merry way[ii].”
“So, what you’re saying is that a bunch of criminals were brought here while the people who lived here were forced out?” This was disturbing to him. Where was the peace he was seeking? How could peace and happiness be found in a society that was created by unjust people for the housing of even more unjust people? It was not something he wanted to dwell on, because he wanted to believe he had escaped the land of the unrighteous. But people are people, he found.
He was fascinated with the man calling himself Nic Cage. When he had first sat down, he thought the man drunk and had had no intention of speaking to him. But Cage, like many locals, had an incredible drinking constitution. He was, in fact, simply a friendly man out in a pub for an evening. He had begun the conversation all of a sudden, without any introduction.
“Why do you get up in the morning?[iii]” Cage had asked.
“Pardon?” he replied, unsure the man had intended to speak to him.
“Why do you get up in the morning?” Cage repeated. “It’s a simple question. What’s the purpose of getting up and going about your business? Is there some kind of greater good that you work for in your daily life?“
“I’m not quite sure what you mean.”
“These are simple questions. Do you believe you have a purpose?”
“I don’t know. I want to have a purpose, but I guess I can’t know that I do for sure.” His original intention had been to humor this crazy man briefly and then politely excuse himself.
However, Cage had no intention of losing his newfound conversation partner. He simply cascaded away into a conversation about the problems of modern society. He began a railing against consumerism, one that struck a chord in the young man’s heart. “We all play into the game of the advertisers, you know? It’s the corporations and marketers who control so much of our world day in and day out. They tell us buy this, buy that. And we do so. They certainly wake up and believe they have a purpose. They see their purpose as seeking out the most efficient ways to earn money—money that only has meaning because we allow it to—and they are the wealthy who ride us lower men. But, mate, don’t let my words fool you into thinking we’re the ones truly hurting from their games. No, you and I have the status and place in society that allows us to come to this pub and purchase drinks. We are not even remotely close to being in the low classes. By society’s standards, you and I are in a good place. And yet you and I are not content, are we? We want more, more, more. But what is it we want? I asked you why you get up in the morning, but you had no answer. We don’t even know what we want. To what end are we going? We can rant and rail against society’s standards as much as we want, but we still play into them as long as we do not have a better goal than the one they present us. So what shall our goal be? What shall we seek if we’re not going to seek wealth as they would have us do?[iv]”
After a brief pause, he muttered, “Love?”
“Precisely,” Cage said with a smile. “Now, let me tell you about the land you’re in. You know about the concept of myth?”
Thus the conversation had turned into the brief discussion of a nation’s myth and the lack of love found within this particular country’s history. It was that lack of love, both he and Cage decided, that had caused most of the problems in the history of the land. Crime happened because of a lack of love and a lack of community—men are not likely to commit crimes towards those they truly love. The treatment of the original inhabitants was cruel and fueled by fear and distrust rather than openness and friendship. At least, these were the versions of the story with the depictions that Cage gave that evening.
“Before we continue,” Cage said as the conversation began to get moving, “what brings you here? Are you running from something? Got your own problems back home you’re trying to pretend don’t exist?”
He did, in fact, have several stories he could tell about the troubles he was trying to leave behind. He could have talked about how he felt that had never really accomplished much of anything. He could have talked about the broken friendships he had suffered through. He considered talking about being a hopeless romantic who never could find romance. He very nearly spoke up about how he had wanted to get away from everyone he’d ever known. After all, he was searching for solitude, for a place to clear his mind. He could have talked about how, in this search, he simply found himself feel quite alone and miserable because of it. He could have talked about growing up in the church but running into large questions and doubts as he got older, having to try and sort out what he believed while everyone around him always seemed so certain. He could have talked about any number of things. Instead, he lied. “Nope. Life’s pretty good, really. I just wanted to see some new things and hear some new tales.”
“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” Cage said. What Cage didn’t know was that he was right. Despite the attempt to find solitude, the man was to find himself thrown into a community. He was thrown into a place full of new that reflected the old in ways he had never expected. “Let me tell you about the land itself.”
Cage described the land as a place where only fools would try to live, but it was through perseverance and love that the great vastness of suddenly began to be beautiful. Harsh conditions were aplenty in this place and a great many mistakes had been made throughout the history of settlement across it. However, those who chose to continue living on it and continue working on it, despite the difficulty to do so, could see the mystery and beauty within the land. He described it as a place where only those who chose to love it could stand to live in it for long. In other words, the place was a place of beauty to those who chose to see it as such[v].
After this, the conversation died down. The man calling himself Nic Cage got up and walked away without saying goodbye. He simply left the man in his own thoughts. These thoughts rode the bus with him all the way to the house in which he was staying. Entering the old, creaking building late at night, he tried to be quiet, but he found the owner was awake and moving regardless. “Welcome home, son,” the owner said to him. “Have a good night?”
He told the owner about the conversation in the pub. “So, what do you think your purpose is?” the owner asked.
“I still don’t know,” he replied.
“It sounds like you’re supposed to love,” the owner said with a smile. “And you know, love is a four letter word for God, just as God is a three letter word for love.”
“What?”
“They are one in the same. Seek one and you’ll find the other.”
He just smiled and nodded, not knowing that this was just the first of many conversations about love and God he would have with the kind man who opened the house to him. He had no way of knowing that, throughout the course of a few months, he would discover that he was, in fact, happy despite all the struggles and problems he faced back home. Certainly, his time in the new was not totally without troubles. Despite the fascinating land and people, the world was still the same dark place at times. But, leaving the old was an act that would open his eyes to see much of the beauty he had been blind to before. As he adventured and sought out freedom from the old, he discovered that his desire to escape had transformed into a desire to return to the old bearing the fruits he had found in the new. He was to find a new flame burning within him, because he had discovered a purpose. He was to seek love wherever it may be found, in society, in the stories of history, in the land itself. Thus, with a smile on his face, he stepped into the old, knowing that he brought with him the new, knowing that his eyes had been opened just a bit wider.
[i] Hughes, Robert. “Who were the Convicts?” in The Fatal Shore (London: Vintage, 2003), 159-202.
[ii] Macintyre, Stuart. A Concise History of Australia (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press).
[iii] Garber, Steven. “The Problem & Its Parameters” in The Fabric of Faithfulness: Weaving Together Belief and Behavior. (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2007), 40-61.
[iv] Hamilton, Clive and Richard Denniss. Affluenza: When Too Much Is Never Enough. (Crows Nest, NSW: Allen & Unwin, 2005).
[v] Millikan, David. “The Australian Outlook” in The Sunburnt Soul. (Alexandria, NSW: Anzea, 1981), 15-34.
16 June 2011
To my friends, both new and old.
Tomorrow's my last non-flight day on this journey.
I'm bidding farewell to a number of dear friends. I don't know for sure when I'm going to see any of them again. And I'm extremely melancholic.
We said our "words of affirmation" to one another this afternoon. We shared with each other encouraging thoughts and memories and love. We talked for hours, going around the circle, speaking to every individual. During all of this, I was one of the few not to shed a tear. But inside I was weeping. I was weeping for this has been an incredible semester. I was weeping, because I don't want this to end. And I was weeping with joy for the new loves I have found in these people.
Toby, Alessandra, Nick, Rachel, Tess, Aaron, Courtney, Kara, Katrina, Paul, Aubrey, Becca, Hannah, Amanda, Sam, Ryan, Allana, Elaina, Sarah, Anna, Kim, Kristin, Alex, Casey, Liisa, Kimberly, Erin.
These are names I will not soon forget. These are the names of some of my closest friends. Indeed, a few of these people I consider just as close as anyone I've ever known. I love these people so dearly and am going to miss them so much.
To each and every one of them, I give them my best wishes and blessings. I hope each of us will look back at this time with love and affection and remember it as a time of growing, a time of learning, and, most importantly, a time of friendship and beauty.
Tomorrow, I will go on a final adventure with Nick, Tess, Rachel, Alessandra, possibly Kimberly, and possibly anyone else who joins us. We will be heading to Rangitoto Island, a volcano in the middle of the Auckland Harbour. Tomorrow will be a wonderful day with wonderful people. I just wish it wasn't the last one.
Oh, by the way, I'm in New Zealand, which is very possibly the most beautiful place on earth. I've had my breath taken away so many times just driving through the country. It is incredible. I wish I could stay longer--which might actually happen due to a volcano in Chile causing many flights to be canceled. With any luck, maybe the adventure will continue just a bit longer....
Guys, it's been great. Thanks for a wonderful semester. I love you all so much.
To my friends back in the US, I am looking forward to seeing you. I can't wait to share with you stories of my experiences here. I hope some of you will take the time to listen and to try and understand as I tell my stories. I will never be able to truly explain what I've seen and learned here, but I look forward to trying. I hope you all will welcome me back with open arms and open ears. I'm going to need some support for a while, because it really is extremely tough saying bye to the amazing people I've met here. It's extremely tough for me to let this segment of my life go. I hope you guys will try to understand.
I may blog again when I get back. I'm not sure. We'll see. For now, goodbye.
Love, Daniel.
I'm bidding farewell to a number of dear friends. I don't know for sure when I'm going to see any of them again. And I'm extremely melancholic.
We said our "words of affirmation" to one another this afternoon. We shared with each other encouraging thoughts and memories and love. We talked for hours, going around the circle, speaking to every individual. During all of this, I was one of the few not to shed a tear. But inside I was weeping. I was weeping for this has been an incredible semester. I was weeping, because I don't want this to end. And I was weeping with joy for the new loves I have found in these people.
Toby, Alessandra, Nick, Rachel, Tess, Aaron, Courtney, Kara, Katrina, Paul, Aubrey, Becca, Hannah, Amanda, Sam, Ryan, Allana, Elaina, Sarah, Anna, Kim, Kristin, Alex, Casey, Liisa, Kimberly, Erin.
These are names I will not soon forget. These are the names of some of my closest friends. Indeed, a few of these people I consider just as close as anyone I've ever known. I love these people so dearly and am going to miss them so much.
To each and every one of them, I give them my best wishes and blessings. I hope each of us will look back at this time with love and affection and remember it as a time of growing, a time of learning, and, most importantly, a time of friendship and beauty.
Tomorrow, I will go on a final adventure with Nick, Tess, Rachel, Alessandra, possibly Kimberly, and possibly anyone else who joins us. We will be heading to Rangitoto Island, a volcano in the middle of the Auckland Harbour. Tomorrow will be a wonderful day with wonderful people. I just wish it wasn't the last one.
Oh, by the way, I'm in New Zealand, which is very possibly the most beautiful place on earth. I've had my breath taken away so many times just driving through the country. It is incredible. I wish I could stay longer--which might actually happen due to a volcano in Chile causing many flights to be canceled. With any luck, maybe the adventure will continue just a bit longer....
Guys, it's been great. Thanks for a wonderful semester. I love you all so much.
To my friends back in the US, I am looking forward to seeing you. I can't wait to share with you stories of my experiences here. I hope some of you will take the time to listen and to try and understand as I tell my stories. I will never be able to truly explain what I've seen and learned here, but I look forward to trying. I hope you all will welcome me back with open arms and open ears. I'm going to need some support for a while, because it really is extremely tough saying bye to the amazing people I've met here. It's extremely tough for me to let this segment of my life go. I hope you guys will try to understand.
I may blog again when I get back. I'm not sure. We'll see. For now, goodbye.
Love, Daniel.
05 June 2011
Bookshops, Beaches, Engagement, and Debrief
So.... what have I been doing lately? I haven't blogged much in a while, that's for sure.
Let's see, there's Newtown, which is a place with tons of bookshops (Goulds, Elizabeth's Bookshop, Books on King St, Moore Books, etc). It is a place with a few small theatres. It has a Dendy Cinema. It has tons of coffee shops and restaurants. It is a place I have spent many hours. It's the arts district of Sydney. It's basically like Downtown Asheville on crack and congested into a couple streets. I love it.
I have gone to Watson's Bay multiple times, enjoying the beautiful ferry ride there, as well as the incredible view of the Pacific Ocean on the cliffs of area.
I went on a day trip to Bondi with Rachel, Tess, and Nick. We did the coastal walk from Bondi to Coogee, which was gorgeous. That day began with frustration. The trains were having maintenance done, so we had to catch a replacement bus, meaning the route was not normal. Due to this, our bus driver got lost. We sat on that bus for a full hour before finally arriving at Bondi. However, the trip ended up being worth it. The coast was gorgeous and the weather was wonderful. We got thickshakes--mine was a chocolate raspberry one that was AMAZING. After enjoying those, we headed to Darling Harbour, where we purchased tickets to Pirates 4 at the World's Largest IMAX. We wandered around Darling Harbour for a good amount of time, enjoying good conversation and finding a small pub in which to have dinner before returning to the cinema. The screen was ridiculously big and gorgeous. The movie was enjoyable, though not great by any means.
Meanwhile, Alice Adventures in Wonderland has been gearing up. I'm the White Knight, meaning I'm one of the largest male roles in the show. My scene is at the end of the show and it's just me and Alice on stage for about 15 minutes (which is one of the longest scenes in the show!). Rehearsals for this have consumed much of my life during the week. The show is exciting and it opens this week. I'd go into more detail, but there are people reading this who I don't want to spoil things for...... so, I'll try and remember to blog about it later after the performances.
Also, I got engaged. I guess I ought to tell that story....
Toby, my current fiancee, came over for dinner last Wednesday. Every week this semester, she, Nick, and I have had a Wednesday outing after our Faith and the Contemporary Artist class. This always took place at the Bakehouse, a locally owned coffee and pastry shop near the school. I jokingly named this outing "Toby Make Out Time" saying that "Make Out" [almost] rhymes with "Bakehouse." The name stuck [for me]. Well, last Wednesday was probably the last Toby Time ever--unless we manage to somehow sneak one more this week; we'll see. Grenville, our teacher for FCA came along as a special guest star to that final outing. The conversation was good, reflecting on our semester as a whole. After finishing at the Bakehouse, we said goodbye to Grenville and headed home to Ross's for dinner. Toby Time continued well into the evening. We played some pool and enjoyed simply hanging out. Then, Toby and I left the house and headed into Circular Quay, where an incredible light show has been going on all this week.
She and I watched the lights shift and change across the Customs House for a while. Then, arm in arm, we walked to the Opera House, where a massive projection stretched across the harbour onto the sails. We went straight to the steps of the famous building and, as we marveled at the architecture, I said something along the lines of, "Toby, these last four months have been incredible and we're standing here and I'm just thinking 'wow.' Our time together has been special, you know? All the Toby Make Out Times and we went to the Outback together and we've just had so many good memories. And, well, Megan Elizabeth Tobin, will you marry me?" I, of course, got down on one knee and presented her with a ring. She accepted and, as we hugged, I lifted her off the ground and spun her around. We walked back down the steps arm in arm and sat down on the edge of the harbour watching the lights and enjoying the evening.
Oh, the ring I presented was her ring already. I was just borrowing it. And she's the fourth person I've gotten engaged to in a world famous city--though it's the sixth city I've proposed in. And though she and I are clearly madly in love, it probably won't last. I mean, after all, we kinda skipped the relationship prior to engagement period. And she's headed back to Connecticut and I'm headed back to Tennessee in just a couple weeks. Oh, and, frankly, it wouldn't be surprising if I impulsively propose to someone in New Zealand next week. Beautiful/famous places just give me this near-impossible urge to propose. It's a hard life I live, knowing I break so many hearts due to impulsive engagements. Ah well. C'est la vie.
In other news, Friday was my last day of official class for the semester. We wrapped up the course with a full day debriefing session, talking about what we'd learned and what would happen upon returning home. We talked about how some people at home are going to be interested in stories from the travels for about five minutes before they quit being polite and go back to not caring. We talked about how some people will genuinely be interested, but will still never truly understand the experiences we've had. We talked about how the only people who will ever really understand are the people who have been on the trip together and we're all separating, spreading out across the country. We talked about how, even if any of us return to Australia, it's never going to be with all of us again. It's never going to be the same. The days of this semester are coming to a close and we're all going our separate ways. We talked about the good times and the bad times. We talked about our regrets. We talked about who we were before we came here and who we are now. We talked about the friends back home who will have changed since we last saw them. We talked about the loneliness one can feel after returning home after a trip such as this. We talked about how hard things may be when we realize that nobody understands us. We talked about how hard things may be when we realize that some of our opinions and our ways of thinking are different from what they were before we came here. We talked about the coming trip to New Zealand and the incredible experience that it is going to be. And we said our goodbyes to Erin, one of our teachers, a Christ-like woman who is one of the kindest, friendliest people I've ever had the pleasure to know and to Aubrey, one of our classmates, a thought-provoking, kind friend who has always struck me as a passionate, intelligent individual. Neither of them are going to New Zealand with us. This makes me sad.
During debrief, we also watched a slide show that Aaron, a great friend of mine, put together of pictures from throughout the semester. It was during this that it clicked in my head that this journey is ending. Everything's coming to a close. The inside jokes, the lingo, the habits, the routines: they're ceasing. I'm not going to be sitting outside the library, eating lunch with friends on a day to day basis anymore. I'm not going to be wandering into Circular Quay to aimlessly catch a ferry just to see where it takes us anymore. I'm not going to go to the bookshops in Newtown or the Botanical Gardens or the Art Galleries anymore. The days of traveling with these friends south to Melbourne and west to Bourke will not occur again. Painting our faces in the Blue Mountains will not occur again. Getting fifty cent ice cream cones at every Macca's and Hungry Jack's we see isn't going to continue. Toby Time is over. Joking with Aaron about not becoming close until the last few weeks is over. Going to Top Ryde City with Nick just to go to Aldi is over. Filling weekends with Rachel, Alessandra, and Tess is over. Watching the slide show was about as melancholic an experience as I've ever had. I watched image after image of all of us happy together. I saw things from the beginning when we hardly knew each other all the way to recent days when we're the best of friends. And at some point watching that damn slide show, it clicked. I suddenly knew just how wonderful this semester has been. I suddenly knew I've been consistently happy for the longest period in recent memory. I suddenly knew how lucky I am. And, worst of all, I suddenly knew it's ending.
Guys, we're leaving. And gosh. I'm going to miss all of this, all of you, so much.
Let's see, there's Newtown, which is a place with tons of bookshops (Goulds, Elizabeth's Bookshop, Books on King St, Moore Books, etc). It is a place with a few small theatres. It has a Dendy Cinema. It has tons of coffee shops and restaurants. It is a place I have spent many hours. It's the arts district of Sydney. It's basically like Downtown Asheville on crack and congested into a couple streets. I love it.
I have gone to Watson's Bay multiple times, enjoying the beautiful ferry ride there, as well as the incredible view of the Pacific Ocean on the cliffs of area.
I went on a day trip to Bondi with Rachel, Tess, and Nick. We did the coastal walk from Bondi to Coogee, which was gorgeous. That day began with frustration. The trains were having maintenance done, so we had to catch a replacement bus, meaning the route was not normal. Due to this, our bus driver got lost. We sat on that bus for a full hour before finally arriving at Bondi. However, the trip ended up being worth it. The coast was gorgeous and the weather was wonderful. We got thickshakes--mine was a chocolate raspberry one that was AMAZING. After enjoying those, we headed to Darling Harbour, where we purchased tickets to Pirates 4 at the World's Largest IMAX. We wandered around Darling Harbour for a good amount of time, enjoying good conversation and finding a small pub in which to have dinner before returning to the cinema. The screen was ridiculously big and gorgeous. The movie was enjoyable, though not great by any means.
Meanwhile, Alice Adventures in Wonderland has been gearing up. I'm the White Knight, meaning I'm one of the largest male roles in the show. My scene is at the end of the show and it's just me and Alice on stage for about 15 minutes (which is one of the longest scenes in the show!). Rehearsals for this have consumed much of my life during the week. The show is exciting and it opens this week. I'd go into more detail, but there are people reading this who I don't want to spoil things for...... so, I'll try and remember to blog about it later after the performances.
Also, I got engaged. I guess I ought to tell that story....
Toby, my current fiancee, came over for dinner last Wednesday. Every week this semester, she, Nick, and I have had a Wednesday outing after our Faith and the Contemporary Artist class. This always took place at the Bakehouse, a locally owned coffee and pastry shop near the school. I jokingly named this outing "Toby Make Out Time" saying that "Make Out" [almost] rhymes with "Bakehouse." The name stuck [for me]. Well, last Wednesday was probably the last Toby Time ever--unless we manage to somehow sneak one more this week; we'll see. Grenville, our teacher for FCA came along as a special guest star to that final outing. The conversation was good, reflecting on our semester as a whole. After finishing at the Bakehouse, we said goodbye to Grenville and headed home to Ross's for dinner. Toby Time continued well into the evening. We played some pool and enjoyed simply hanging out. Then, Toby and I left the house and headed into Circular Quay, where an incredible light show has been going on all this week.
She and I watched the lights shift and change across the Customs House for a while. Then, arm in arm, we walked to the Opera House, where a massive projection stretched across the harbour onto the sails. We went straight to the steps of the famous building and, as we marveled at the architecture, I said something along the lines of, "Toby, these last four months have been incredible and we're standing here and I'm just thinking 'wow.' Our time together has been special, you know? All the Toby Make Out Times and we went to the Outback together and we've just had so many good memories. And, well, Megan Elizabeth Tobin, will you marry me?" I, of course, got down on one knee and presented her with a ring. She accepted and, as we hugged, I lifted her off the ground and spun her around. We walked back down the steps arm in arm and sat down on the edge of the harbour watching the lights and enjoying the evening.
Oh, the ring I presented was her ring already. I was just borrowing it. And she's the fourth person I've gotten engaged to in a world famous city--though it's the sixth city I've proposed in. And though she and I are clearly madly in love, it probably won't last. I mean, after all, we kinda skipped the relationship prior to engagement period. And she's headed back to Connecticut and I'm headed back to Tennessee in just a couple weeks. Oh, and, frankly, it wouldn't be surprising if I impulsively propose to someone in New Zealand next week. Beautiful/famous places just give me this near-impossible urge to propose. It's a hard life I live, knowing I break so many hearts due to impulsive engagements. Ah well. C'est la vie.
In other news, Friday was my last day of official class for the semester. We wrapped up the course with a full day debriefing session, talking about what we'd learned and what would happen upon returning home. We talked about how some people at home are going to be interested in stories from the travels for about five minutes before they quit being polite and go back to not caring. We talked about how some people will genuinely be interested, but will still never truly understand the experiences we've had. We talked about how the only people who will ever really understand are the people who have been on the trip together and we're all separating, spreading out across the country. We talked about how, even if any of us return to Australia, it's never going to be with all of us again. It's never going to be the same. The days of this semester are coming to a close and we're all going our separate ways. We talked about the good times and the bad times. We talked about our regrets. We talked about who we were before we came here and who we are now. We talked about the friends back home who will have changed since we last saw them. We talked about the loneliness one can feel after returning home after a trip such as this. We talked about how hard things may be when we realize that nobody understands us. We talked about how hard things may be when we realize that some of our opinions and our ways of thinking are different from what they were before we came here. We talked about the coming trip to New Zealand and the incredible experience that it is going to be. And we said our goodbyes to Erin, one of our teachers, a Christ-like woman who is one of the kindest, friendliest people I've ever had the pleasure to know and to Aubrey, one of our classmates, a thought-provoking, kind friend who has always struck me as a passionate, intelligent individual. Neither of them are going to New Zealand with us. This makes me sad.
During debrief, we also watched a slide show that Aaron, a great friend of mine, put together of pictures from throughout the semester. It was during this that it clicked in my head that this journey is ending. Everything's coming to a close. The inside jokes, the lingo, the habits, the routines: they're ceasing. I'm not going to be sitting outside the library, eating lunch with friends on a day to day basis anymore. I'm not going to be wandering into Circular Quay to aimlessly catch a ferry just to see where it takes us anymore. I'm not going to go to the bookshops in Newtown or the Botanical Gardens or the Art Galleries anymore. The days of traveling with these friends south to Melbourne and west to Bourke will not occur again. Painting our faces in the Blue Mountains will not occur again. Getting fifty cent ice cream cones at every Macca's and Hungry Jack's we see isn't going to continue. Toby Time is over. Joking with Aaron about not becoming close until the last few weeks is over. Going to Top Ryde City with Nick just to go to Aldi is over. Filling weekends with Rachel, Alessandra, and Tess is over. Watching the slide show was about as melancholic an experience as I've ever had. I watched image after image of all of us happy together. I saw things from the beginning when we hardly knew each other all the way to recent days when we're the best of friends. And at some point watching that damn slide show, it clicked. I suddenly knew just how wonderful this semester has been. I suddenly knew I've been consistently happy for the longest period in recent memory. I suddenly knew how lucky I am. And, worst of all, I suddenly knew it's ending.
Guys, we're leaving. And gosh. I'm going to miss all of this, all of you, so much.
Oh, by the way, I went to the Outback a while back....
The drive was a two day haul. Staying the first night in a small town, Nick and I discussed the possibility of going to see Thor: The God of Thunder as we ate dinner. Nick asked at the front desk of the hotel if there was a cinema around. As there was, a small group gathered and ran across town to make the last showing of the evening. It was one of those movie going experiences for the memory book. We all pumped ourselves up, shouting "THOR: THE GOD OF THUNDER!!!" frequently. We went in expecting a fun, popcorn flick and it provided just that. It was glorious. Chris Hemsworth = new man-crush.
Anywho, the next day, we finished the trek to the Trillby Sheep Station, out back o'Bourke. The massive, silent place was incredible. Due to large amounts of rainfall recently, the vegetation had actually accumulated quite a bit. The place was far greener than I had expected. Meandering into the bush a bit, Toby, Nick, and I found ourselves suddenly isolated from all of the man-made world. We discovered a goat carcass across a tree limb--it appeared to have landed in the tree after flooding. Continuing to wander, we came across several kangaroo. Seeing these incredible animals in the wild was fascinating. They moved with such speed and grace. Beautiful creatures.
We sat on a broken tree, watching and listening to the world.
Each night, the group gathered around a campfire. One night, we all shared personal stories about our lives. Stories about what makes us us. One night, we played a huge game of Truth or Dare--highlights: Aaron danced around making chicken sounds in his underwear; Liisa kissed Kimberly once on each cheek and spoke to her in Spanish, which I immediately followed by taking off my shirt, picking Liisa up, and "serenading" her. The game was hilarious at times, if a bit awkward. But it was enjoyable for the most part.
We slept outside during the trip. The stars in the Outback are incredible. We could see the Milky Way vividly. I took a couple of star shots. I hope they come out. I took a lot of pictures in the Outback. I'm probably more excited about them than any other pictures thus far on this trip.
Ian, our bus driver, was extremely at home out there. He built the fire each night, and he taught us many things. "If you get bit by a snake," he told us, "the key is to crouch on the ground, put your head between your knees and keep bending forward until you can kiss your ass goodbye!" One day, he drove us around the paddocks of the sheep station. He took an old bus off the road in the Outback. And he knew where he was the entire time. We saw gray sands. We saw red sands. We sat in the middle of nowhere in silence, spreading out around red dunes writing letters to ourselves. We entered an old run down property. We saw so much that I will never be able to explain it all. It was incredible.
And throughout the course of the journey, our group grew closer. In the Outback, the cliques broke down. Barriers disappeared. We became a community, even if it was just for a brief time. The Outback was a place unlike any other I have ever been before. It was a magical place. A beautiful place. And I'm never going to be able to explain how incredible the journey out there was accurately, so I'm going to quit trying.
Anywho, the next day, we finished the trek to the Trillby Sheep Station, out back o'Bourke. The massive, silent place was incredible. Due to large amounts of rainfall recently, the vegetation had actually accumulated quite a bit. The place was far greener than I had expected. Meandering into the bush a bit, Toby, Nick, and I found ourselves suddenly isolated from all of the man-made world. We discovered a goat carcass across a tree limb--it appeared to have landed in the tree after flooding. Continuing to wander, we came across several kangaroo. Seeing these incredible animals in the wild was fascinating. They moved with such speed and grace. Beautiful creatures.
We sat on a broken tree, watching and listening to the world.
Each night, the group gathered around a campfire. One night, we all shared personal stories about our lives. Stories about what makes us us. One night, we played a huge game of Truth or Dare--highlights: Aaron danced around making chicken sounds in his underwear; Liisa kissed Kimberly once on each cheek and spoke to her in Spanish, which I immediately followed by taking off my shirt, picking Liisa up, and "serenading" her. The game was hilarious at times, if a bit awkward. But it was enjoyable for the most part.
We slept outside during the trip. The stars in the Outback are incredible. We could see the Milky Way vividly. I took a couple of star shots. I hope they come out. I took a lot of pictures in the Outback. I'm probably more excited about them than any other pictures thus far on this trip.
Ian, our bus driver, was extremely at home out there. He built the fire each night, and he taught us many things. "If you get bit by a snake," he told us, "the key is to crouch on the ground, put your head between your knees and keep bending forward until you can kiss your ass goodbye!" One day, he drove us around the paddocks of the sheep station. He took an old bus off the road in the Outback. And he knew where he was the entire time. We saw gray sands. We saw red sands. We sat in the middle of nowhere in silence, spreading out around red dunes writing letters to ourselves. We entered an old run down property. We saw so much that I will never be able to explain it all. It was incredible.
And throughout the course of the journey, our group grew closer. In the Outback, the cliques broke down. Barriers disappeared. We became a community, even if it was just for a brief time. The Outback was a place unlike any other I have ever been before. It was a magical place. A beautiful place. And I'm never going to be able to explain how incredible the journey out there was accurately, so I'm going to quit trying.
11 May 2011
Shakespeare and Ballet: Sydney Opera House Visits
A couple of years ago, had someone suggested to me the possibility that I would enjoy a ballet more than a Shakespeare performance, I would have probably told them they were nutty. Dance was not something I was interested in in the least. I, like many stereotypical guys, simply never gave the art form much thought. However, I was very much into theatre and Shakespeare is obviously the epitome of playwright. I enjoyed reading Shakespeare, enjoyed performing Shakespeare, and watching Shakespeare. I still do immensely. However, I have also learned to love dance. I am awful at rhythm which makes it extremely difficult for me to dance, but I have learned to love watching dance performances.
This love for the art form came about due to a handful of events. I watched movies such as West Side Story and Singin' in the Rain. I went with friends to see Prince Caspian: The Ballet (which was pretty awful, but epic). I briefly dated a dancer. I made friends with other dancers. I heard that Darren Aronofsky was making a ballet movie and began looking up more and more about the art due to interest in the film--and I thoroughly enjoyed Black Swan when it came out. Throughout the last few years, I have attended many theatre performances, several of which have included dance numbers. Gradually, I began to think of dance as an art form I wished I could do. It is an expression using the beauty of the human body in ways that I wish I had the capabilities to mimic.
Meanwhile, my love for Shakespeare has also grown. I have read a few, seen a few, and performed in a few in the last couple of years. Many of my close friends are lovers of Shakespeare as well. I got to see an incredible performance of Macbeth at the Globe. Shakespearean acting, while not necessarily my largest strength is something that I am capable of doing. His plays are incredible works full of so much power and profound ideas. They speak to me. I love studying them and working on them. It is, in my mind, right to call him the greatest playwright to have ever lived. Given that there are no things I love more than theatre, there's nothing I would rather have a career in than theatre, no art form I enjoy more than theatre, it should come as no surprise that I hold the greatest playwright in extremely high esteem.
So, when I say that I decided I was going to see Much Ado, About Nothing at the Sydney Opera House, it was kind of a big deal. Meanwhile, I also decided I was going to get a ticket to British Liaisons, a ballet about which I knew relatively little--I simply wanted to see several different shows at the Opera House while I have the opportunity. I bought my ticket for Much Ado, getting a nice seat just a few rows back from the stage and to the house right side. I put off buying the British Liaisons ticket because I was not quite as enthusiastic about it--I definitely wanted to see it but I didn't have such a high preference about where I was going to be seated.
So, Much Ado was a week ago. And I did enjoy the show. My view was good, nothing super special, but not bad. The lead actors playing Benedick and Beatrice were great. Don Pedro and Claudio were enjoyable as well. The smaller roles were a mixed bag, some being quite good, some being just okay. Don John was an interesting but ultimately dull take on the character. Dogberry made me cringe, because he was flat and boring when he should have stolen the show. Transitions in the piece were strange--actors occasionally would come on upstage slowly setting up the next scene while dialogue was still going on downstage. This was very distracting and annoying. Random moments using musical instruments throughout the show added very little and often detracted. Don Pedro, Claudio, and Don John bowed at the Interval completely shattering all suspension of disbelief. Oh and did I mention that Dogberry was just bad? To their credit, the set design was quite interesting--rather than around a garden, they placed the action inside a pool room. Quite interesting and very good use of the pool table--Benedick using all his strength to push the pool table closer when he overhears Don Pedro, Leonato, and Claudio talking was hilarious. But overall, the show was rather lackluster.
Now, to be fair, I have a history with Much Ado. Seeing a Milligan production of it is one of the earliest plays I remember watching--Lee Blackburn played Benedick; more importantly to me, Ben Lee played Dogberry (which has made it hard for me to enjoy any interpretations that are not similar to Ben's). Then, in high school, I was in Much Ado, playing Don John. I have read the play multiple times. I have, of course, seen the Kenneth Brannagh film. I probably know no other Shakespeare play better than I know Much Ado. Thus, I was let down watching Much Ado at the Opera House. It was also this performance that made me realize just how small the theatre industry in Australia really is. The fact of the matter is, there aren't that many actors here. There's not that much competition. The overall quality of theatre here simply is not as good as many of the theatres in the United States or Britain. It is a sad fact--and not one that I'm throwing out there just because of Much Ado; this is something that has been talked about at Wesley while I've been studying there.
So, I was let down by Much Ado--though, really, it was enjoyable and I don't regret going at all. Now, about British Liaisons....
When I went to buy my ticket, I simply intended to buy one for a cheap seat. I quickly discovered that the show was close to selling out. As I looked through the available seats, I saw one that stood out to me, one that I strongly debated about buying. This seat was located in the dead center of the front row of the balcony. In other words, it was, literally, the best seat in the Sydney Opera House. It also cost a lot of money. Every other seat in that row was sold out. In fact, almost every other seat in that entire price bracket was sold out. And there the single best seat was looking at me, tempting me. After much debate, I decided that, while I do intend to return to Australia some day, it is unlikely that I would ever have the opportunity to pick the best seat in the venue again. Thus, I bought an expensive ticket for a show that I still didn't know that much about--and a ballet at that; me being someone who really doesn't know that much about dance.
Well, let me tell you. Walking up the red-carpeted steps to an area of seating where the vast majority of the other audience members are elderly men and women who clearly frequent the ballet was just a bit intimidating. I was seated between two old women and felt rather awkward and out of place. Then the show began. British Liaisons is actually a compilation of three ballets of differing styles from different eras. The first ballet, Checkmate, was based on the game of chess: the dancers played the chess pieces dancing across a chessboard. In the story they told, the Black Queen seduced the Red Knight who is commanded to fight her by the Red King. After their duel the Red Knight is about to strike the Black Queen down when he finds himself unable to do so. The Queen takes his sword and kills him. Then the black pieces take over the board and slay the Red King. The story was simple but told beautifully.
The second piece, After the Rain, was much more minimalist. Complex lifts and turns took place as smooth as water. The most impressive part was a pas de duex (duet with 2 dancers) of incredible power and beauty. The dancers moved across the bare stage painting an incredible picture of beauty that, frankly, I cannot describe. I was nearly moved to tears. As the piece ended, the entire theatre was silent. Then, applause exploded throughout. The piece was brief, but it was one of the strongest, most beautiful works of art I have ever witnessed.
The third ballet, Concerto, was also quite excellent and technically amazing. Many dancers moved across the stage constantly in sync with one another. They moved as if they were all of one body. It was a wonderfully done piece, though it was not quite as incredible and moving as After the Rain.
During the Intervals, there were two brief ones, one of the women next to me began talking to me. First, she asked me if I were a dancer, saying she thought I might be. Then, when I told her that no, I was an actor, she began telling me about coming to the ballet with her late husband. She was a precious lady, reminding me of an Irish nun in Paris once upon a time who gave directions to me and some friends to Notre Dame and the disappeared (true story). This woman, after the show ended, wished me luck with my studies and that I would manage to be in the right place at the right time and thus have a good career. Somehow, I felt that her wishes were more like commands. She was encouraging and kind and meeting her was a blessing.
In case you haven't noticed, I enjoyed the ballet far more than I enjoyed Much Ado. I do not regret purchasing the ticket I did at all. My seat truly was the best seat in the Opera House. I could see everything perfectly. I was moved to another world throughout it. Granted, I don't know the technical aspects of ballet and thus go into the show with less biased. However, watching British Liaisons, especially After the Rain, I felt like I was watching something special that I won't soon forget. Watching Much Ado, I felt like I was watching a decent production that I won't remember in detail for long. Both experiences were good, but gosh... I wish I could dance.
PS. The Drama Theatre at the Opera House isn't nearly as nice as the Concert Hall. Just in case you were wondering.
PPS. British Liaisons trailer, doesn't really do it justice though.
This love for the art form came about due to a handful of events. I watched movies such as West Side Story and Singin' in the Rain. I went with friends to see Prince Caspian: The Ballet (which was pretty awful, but epic). I briefly dated a dancer. I made friends with other dancers. I heard that Darren Aronofsky was making a ballet movie and began looking up more and more about the art due to interest in the film--and I thoroughly enjoyed Black Swan when it came out. Throughout the last few years, I have attended many theatre performances, several of which have included dance numbers. Gradually, I began to think of dance as an art form I wished I could do. It is an expression using the beauty of the human body in ways that I wish I had the capabilities to mimic.
Meanwhile, my love for Shakespeare has also grown. I have read a few, seen a few, and performed in a few in the last couple of years. Many of my close friends are lovers of Shakespeare as well. I got to see an incredible performance of Macbeth at the Globe. Shakespearean acting, while not necessarily my largest strength is something that I am capable of doing. His plays are incredible works full of so much power and profound ideas. They speak to me. I love studying them and working on them. It is, in my mind, right to call him the greatest playwright to have ever lived. Given that there are no things I love more than theatre, there's nothing I would rather have a career in than theatre, no art form I enjoy more than theatre, it should come as no surprise that I hold the greatest playwright in extremely high esteem.
So, when I say that I decided I was going to see Much Ado, About Nothing at the Sydney Opera House, it was kind of a big deal. Meanwhile, I also decided I was going to get a ticket to British Liaisons, a ballet about which I knew relatively little--I simply wanted to see several different shows at the Opera House while I have the opportunity. I bought my ticket for Much Ado, getting a nice seat just a few rows back from the stage and to the house right side. I put off buying the British Liaisons ticket because I was not quite as enthusiastic about it--I definitely wanted to see it but I didn't have such a high preference about where I was going to be seated.
So, Much Ado was a week ago. And I did enjoy the show. My view was good, nothing super special, but not bad. The lead actors playing Benedick and Beatrice were great. Don Pedro and Claudio were enjoyable as well. The smaller roles were a mixed bag, some being quite good, some being just okay. Don John was an interesting but ultimately dull take on the character. Dogberry made me cringe, because he was flat and boring when he should have stolen the show. Transitions in the piece were strange--actors occasionally would come on upstage slowly setting up the next scene while dialogue was still going on downstage. This was very distracting and annoying. Random moments using musical instruments throughout the show added very little and often detracted. Don Pedro, Claudio, and Don John bowed at the Interval completely shattering all suspension of disbelief. Oh and did I mention that Dogberry was just bad? To their credit, the set design was quite interesting--rather than around a garden, they placed the action inside a pool room. Quite interesting and very good use of the pool table--Benedick using all his strength to push the pool table closer when he overhears Don Pedro, Leonato, and Claudio talking was hilarious. But overall, the show was rather lackluster.
Now, to be fair, I have a history with Much Ado. Seeing a Milligan production of it is one of the earliest plays I remember watching--Lee Blackburn played Benedick; more importantly to me, Ben Lee played Dogberry (which has made it hard for me to enjoy any interpretations that are not similar to Ben's). Then, in high school, I was in Much Ado, playing Don John. I have read the play multiple times. I have, of course, seen the Kenneth Brannagh film. I probably know no other Shakespeare play better than I know Much Ado. Thus, I was let down watching Much Ado at the Opera House. It was also this performance that made me realize just how small the theatre industry in Australia really is. The fact of the matter is, there aren't that many actors here. There's not that much competition. The overall quality of theatre here simply is not as good as many of the theatres in the United States or Britain. It is a sad fact--and not one that I'm throwing out there just because of Much Ado; this is something that has been talked about at Wesley while I've been studying there.
So, I was let down by Much Ado--though, really, it was enjoyable and I don't regret going at all. Now, about British Liaisons....
When I went to buy my ticket, I simply intended to buy one for a cheap seat. I quickly discovered that the show was close to selling out. As I looked through the available seats, I saw one that stood out to me, one that I strongly debated about buying. This seat was located in the dead center of the front row of the balcony. In other words, it was, literally, the best seat in the Sydney Opera House. It also cost a lot of money. Every other seat in that row was sold out. In fact, almost every other seat in that entire price bracket was sold out. And there the single best seat was looking at me, tempting me. After much debate, I decided that, while I do intend to return to Australia some day, it is unlikely that I would ever have the opportunity to pick the best seat in the venue again. Thus, I bought an expensive ticket for a show that I still didn't know that much about--and a ballet at that; me being someone who really doesn't know that much about dance.
Well, let me tell you. Walking up the red-carpeted steps to an area of seating where the vast majority of the other audience members are elderly men and women who clearly frequent the ballet was just a bit intimidating. I was seated between two old women and felt rather awkward and out of place. Then the show began. British Liaisons is actually a compilation of three ballets of differing styles from different eras. The first ballet, Checkmate, was based on the game of chess: the dancers played the chess pieces dancing across a chessboard. In the story they told, the Black Queen seduced the Red Knight who is commanded to fight her by the Red King. After their duel the Red Knight is about to strike the Black Queen down when he finds himself unable to do so. The Queen takes his sword and kills him. Then the black pieces take over the board and slay the Red King. The story was simple but told beautifully.
The second piece, After the Rain, was much more minimalist. Complex lifts and turns took place as smooth as water. The most impressive part was a pas de duex (duet with 2 dancers) of incredible power and beauty. The dancers moved across the bare stage painting an incredible picture of beauty that, frankly, I cannot describe. I was nearly moved to tears. As the piece ended, the entire theatre was silent. Then, applause exploded throughout. The piece was brief, but it was one of the strongest, most beautiful works of art I have ever witnessed.
The third ballet, Concerto, was also quite excellent and technically amazing. Many dancers moved across the stage constantly in sync with one another. They moved as if they were all of one body. It was a wonderfully done piece, though it was not quite as incredible and moving as After the Rain.
During the Intervals, there were two brief ones, one of the women next to me began talking to me. First, she asked me if I were a dancer, saying she thought I might be. Then, when I told her that no, I was an actor, she began telling me about coming to the ballet with her late husband. She was a precious lady, reminding me of an Irish nun in Paris once upon a time who gave directions to me and some friends to Notre Dame and the disappeared (true story). This woman, after the show ended, wished me luck with my studies and that I would manage to be in the right place at the right time and thus have a good career. Somehow, I felt that her wishes were more like commands. She was encouraging and kind and meeting her was a blessing.
In case you haven't noticed, I enjoyed the ballet far more than I enjoyed Much Ado. I do not regret purchasing the ticket I did at all. My seat truly was the best seat in the Opera House. I could see everything perfectly. I was moved to another world throughout it. Granted, I don't know the technical aspects of ballet and thus go into the show with less biased. However, watching British Liaisons, especially After the Rain, I felt like I was watching something special that I won't soon forget. Watching Much Ado, I felt like I was watching a decent production that I won't remember in detail for long. Both experiences were good, but gosh... I wish I could dance.
PS. The Drama Theatre at the Opera House isn't nearly as nice as the Concert Hall. Just in case you were wondering.
PPS. British Liaisons trailer, doesn't really do it justice though.
01 May 2011
Melbourne.
"We're thinking about going to Melbourne for Easter Break. Wanna go with us?" Tess and Rachel asked me several weeks ago.
"Sounds like fun. Why not?" I replied. Did I know anything about Melbourne other than it's Australia's second largest city and that it was supposed to be a bit more artsy than Sydney? Not really. Did I know that the mountains around Melbourne are absolutely gorgeous and in many ways similar to the mountains in Tennessee? Nope. Did I have any specific things I wanted to do in Melbourne? Nope. Basically, I was asked if I wanted to go on a trip and I said sure without giving it much thought.
Thus, Thursday 21 of April, I found myself getting onto a night train that would, with roughly 10 hours of travel time, take me across much of the Australian east coast to a destination of which I knew very little. Traveling with me were the aforementioned Tess and Rachel, as well as Alessandra and Nick. The train ride was not terrible, though none of us really got good sleep. The seats were not the most comfortable in the world and having many stops along the route resulted in frequent awakenings. Rachel and I sat together, neither of us sleeping very successfully with the occasional brief conversation about it. "This stop looks like a barn," she said to me sometime around 3 or 4 in the morning.
"Huh," I replied. "I can't see it. My contacts aren't in. It's just a blur."
"Well, it's definitely a barn."
Not even cuddling could help us slip into the world of dreams. We were in a perpetual state of tired near-sleep. But really, the train travel was not bad. Just tiring.
Nick lived in Melbourne for two years earlier in his life--once when he was six and once when he was fifteen. Thus, he had connections that resulted in us having a destination of the Lilydale train station--Lilydale being one of the suburbs of the city. However, that Friday, Good Friday, we spent meandering about the city itself.
As it turned out, the free tram that goes around central Melbourne only closes two days a year: Christmas and Good Friday. Thus, we walked. A lot. We found our way to a park, meeting a man in a bunny suit on the way. We went to a war memorial. We walked down through the city to another park with a lake. We saw black swans. We found our way to a stretch of restaurants, where we ate wonderful pizza. We meandered across a dock that ended up placing us along rocks where penguins live and thus we got to see some penguins. We played cards. And then we found our way to a tram which we paid to take us back to the train station. We walked something like 10 or 11 kilos throughout that day, which is quite a bit to do with backpacks full of a weekends' worth of clothes just after a long train ride during which little sleep occurred. Fortunately, the weather was good for us--occasional spurts of light rain cooled us down but didn't last long enough to be annoying.
Finally, we got onto a train to head to Lilydale where Stan and his son Daniel, friends of Nick's family, met us. We loaded into their vehicles and headed to their lovely home in Mt. Evelyn, a beautiful little town of nice people. We were served some wonderful food, chatted briefly, and the girls were driven to the Tromps, another family of friends who opened their home to us travelers. After a good night of sleep, we set off with Stan and Daniel to travel through the mountains.
We stopped by rivers. We saw an eccentric house. We entered a rain forest. We hiked. We went on mountain tops with incredible overlooks. We had a barbie in the middle of the woods. We were out all day, seeing beautiful sights and having excellent conversations. We went to a farm owned by Stan's nephew. We were in awe of the land. And then we went back to Stan's, where we ate good food again.
The next day we visited their church for Easter Sunday. This was the church Nick's father had preached out when his family lived in Melbourne. It was a nice place with welcoming people. I then went with the girls to the Tromp household for lunch, while Nick caught up with friends he'd not seen in years. We went for a walk while Rachel Tromp, a girl just a little younger than us, took her horse for a ride. The path was similar to the Virginia Creeper Trail--indeed, it was even a path converted from an old railway. After about an hour of walking, we got coffee at a wonderful shop converted from an old Harry Potter style train.
After returning the the Tromps, playing cards, and good dinner at Stan's, we set forth again, going to an incredible overlook that looked across the city that night. The lights were incredible. We then returned to Stan's, where we watched the classic Australian movie The Castle. The next morning, we got up early and returned to the city, where we caught a train back home to Sydney.
The weekend was wonderful. It was beautiful and I did not want to leave Melbourne. We saw so much so quickly and were so welcomed by such wonderful people. I cannot imagine spending that break better. And I didn't plan a single part of it. I was just invited, said sure, and ended up having a wonderful time. Then, almost as soon as the Melbourne trip came to a close, we got on a bus to head westward into the Outback. But that's another story.
"Sounds like fun. Why not?" I replied. Did I know anything about Melbourne other than it's Australia's second largest city and that it was supposed to be a bit more artsy than Sydney? Not really. Did I know that the mountains around Melbourne are absolutely gorgeous and in many ways similar to the mountains in Tennessee? Nope. Did I have any specific things I wanted to do in Melbourne? Nope. Basically, I was asked if I wanted to go on a trip and I said sure without giving it much thought.
Thus, Thursday 21 of April, I found myself getting onto a night train that would, with roughly 10 hours of travel time, take me across much of the Australian east coast to a destination of which I knew very little. Traveling with me were the aforementioned Tess and Rachel, as well as Alessandra and Nick. The train ride was not terrible, though none of us really got good sleep. The seats were not the most comfortable in the world and having many stops along the route resulted in frequent awakenings. Rachel and I sat together, neither of us sleeping very successfully with the occasional brief conversation about it. "This stop looks like a barn," she said to me sometime around 3 or 4 in the morning.
"Huh," I replied. "I can't see it. My contacts aren't in. It's just a blur."
"Well, it's definitely a barn."
Not even cuddling could help us slip into the world of dreams. We were in a perpetual state of tired near-sleep. But really, the train travel was not bad. Just tiring.
Nick lived in Melbourne for two years earlier in his life--once when he was six and once when he was fifteen. Thus, he had connections that resulted in us having a destination of the Lilydale train station--Lilydale being one of the suburbs of the city. However, that Friday, Good Friday, we spent meandering about the city itself.
As it turned out, the free tram that goes around central Melbourne only closes two days a year: Christmas and Good Friday. Thus, we walked. A lot. We found our way to a park, meeting a man in a bunny suit on the way. We went to a war memorial. We walked down through the city to another park with a lake. We saw black swans. We found our way to a stretch of restaurants, where we ate wonderful pizza. We meandered across a dock that ended up placing us along rocks where penguins live and thus we got to see some penguins. We played cards. And then we found our way to a tram which we paid to take us back to the train station. We walked something like 10 or 11 kilos throughout that day, which is quite a bit to do with backpacks full of a weekends' worth of clothes just after a long train ride during which little sleep occurred. Fortunately, the weather was good for us--occasional spurts of light rain cooled us down but didn't last long enough to be annoying.
Finally, we got onto a train to head to Lilydale where Stan and his son Daniel, friends of Nick's family, met us. We loaded into their vehicles and headed to their lovely home in Mt. Evelyn, a beautiful little town of nice people. We were served some wonderful food, chatted briefly, and the girls were driven to the Tromps, another family of friends who opened their home to us travelers. After a good night of sleep, we set off with Stan and Daniel to travel through the mountains.
We stopped by rivers. We saw an eccentric house. We entered a rain forest. We hiked. We went on mountain tops with incredible overlooks. We had a barbie in the middle of the woods. We were out all day, seeing beautiful sights and having excellent conversations. We went to a farm owned by Stan's nephew. We were in awe of the land. And then we went back to Stan's, where we ate good food again.
The next day we visited their church for Easter Sunday. This was the church Nick's father had preached out when his family lived in Melbourne. It was a nice place with welcoming people. I then went with the girls to the Tromp household for lunch, while Nick caught up with friends he'd not seen in years. We went for a walk while Rachel Tromp, a girl just a little younger than us, took her horse for a ride. The path was similar to the Virginia Creeper Trail--indeed, it was even a path converted from an old railway. After about an hour of walking, we got coffee at a wonderful shop converted from an old Harry Potter style train.
After returning the the Tromps, playing cards, and good dinner at Stan's, we set forth again, going to an incredible overlook that looked across the city that night. The lights were incredible. We then returned to Stan's, where we watched the classic Australian movie The Castle. The next morning, we got up early and returned to the city, where we caught a train back home to Sydney.
The weekend was wonderful. It was beautiful and I did not want to leave Melbourne. We saw so much so quickly and were so welcomed by such wonderful people. I cannot imagine spending that break better. And I didn't plan a single part of it. I was just invited, said sure, and ended up having a wonderful time. Then, almost as soon as the Melbourne trip came to a close, we got on a bus to head westward into the Outback. But that's another story.
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