exploration

Tomorrow Is Promised to No One

~ nfreim ~ Leave a comment

“Some days are diamonds

Some days are rocks”

 

Two years ago today, I was serving as a dramaturge for a production of Twelfth Night.  I was also assistant stage manager and a costuming assistant – these things happen when you can’t say no.  Shakespeare in the Park – a lovely July afternoon.

Two hours before curtain, the actor playing Fabian became ill and needed to go to the hospital (she was in the military – and she’s kind of a bad-ass – so if she needed to go, you knew it was serious).  Community theatre being what it is, we didn’t have a roster of understudies.  The director asked an actor with a smaller part, but he said he did not feel confident switching.  I think the director was considering going on himself.  I said that I would do it.  

It made sense, really.  I’d been at most every rehearsal, I had done detailed annotations on the script, and I’d spent many nights reading parts when people needed to miss.  We even had roughly the same build, so I could fit into the costume.  And, once upon a time, I had been an acting major.  I hadn’t been on a stage in nearly 20 years, but the show must go on, right??  So I crammed like hell and prayed that I wouldn’t throw up.

I didn’t have all the blocking down – and I missed a few lines – but I did manage to get both the longer speeches correct.  It felt amazing.

It made me remember how I loved acting – the fun of live theatre, the joy of the words.  I started acting when I got the leads in my third grade class plays (head pilgrim’s wife and last year’s rag doll, if you must know) – mainly due to my memorization abilities.  Since that evening, I’ve done a couple of local plays (I’ll spare you the Cabaret stories for tonight).  It’s a singular experience, and one I used to enjoy immensely.  I’m glad I got to remember that.

 

A year ago today, I was confined to the house recovering from major surgery – and shocked to hear that a friend had died suddenly and tragically in a bicycle vs car accident.

That sort of thing gives us a very different perspective.

People always talk about living after losing someone – “you have to live for ___ – he/she would want you to!”  It’s a weird way to try to jolt ourselves out of mourning.  To convince ourselves to embrace life even though we’re miserable.

I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately because well, there’s the current state of the world, for one.  But I’ve also lost two friends in the last month, and I’m struggling.  Trying to “live for today” and “make the most of your life!” gets heavy sometimes.  Especially with the stress fatigue that we’re all feeling thanks to the party that is 2020.  

How do we hold on to the feeling, that need to do more and be more and drink deeply of life – without letting it make us maudlin?  How do we keep it encouraging rather than a burden we are not fulfilling?  How do we make it something we are glad to feel despite the pain?

Sadly, I do not currently have the answers.  Though I suppose we can take wisdom from Sleepless in Seattle – and just keep getting up, breathing in and out, and trying.  That’s what we owe ourselves – to keep going.

 

“Some things are over

Some things go on

Part of me you carry

Part of me is gone”

 

To Be a Polymathlete

~ nfreim ~ Leave a comment

I thought about starting this blog several times before and never got it going beyond the idea stage. And then I started thinking that I just missed my moment for diving in to the world of blogging. However, many moments come back around. And sometimes work out better later on. Or it’s not a single moment, but a confluence.

I recently started reading An Alchemy of Mind: The Marvel and Mystery of the Brain by Diane Ackerman. She talks about the discovery of a new species of gecko, tiny enough to curl up on a dime, on a remote island in the Caribbean. (The book was published in 2004, so the story of the lizard is old news but still cool.) How amazing is it that new species can still be discovered? (And depressing that many have probably vanished without our knowledge.)

Then I came across the poem “A Legend of Provence” by Adelaide Anne Procter. While the overall point of the poem is arguably a bit more spiritual than intellectual, I was struck by these lines:

“No star is ever lost we once have seen,

We may always be what we might have been.”

Since I am coming out of a period of some personal upheaval, this probably touched me more than it might have at another moment in life’s river.

Why not refocus on the myriad of things I’d like to learn about? Yes, the word “thing” is distasteful and I usually caution my students about using in writing. But sometimes it does encapsulate the breadth of meaning we are searching for. (Sometimes it’s just easier than finding another word, but since my interests are wide ranging, I think I can use it here.)

There’s so much I want to know and discover. It’s not just books to read, or places to go, or activities to try, but all of these.

Becoming a polymath is a lifelong process. I doubt that anyone who loves to learn ever feels “finished” with knowledge. So the title of this blog reflects my desire to be a polymath, not a claim that I already am and everyone should therefore listen to me about how to be a lover of knowledge.

That’s what being a polymath, or Renaissance humanist, or autodidact (or whatever name one wants to assign) really is to me – embracing a love of learning.

If I were independently wealthy, I would go to school all the time. I love the atmosphere of learning and the opportunity for sharing ideas that can be found in a university. I would collect degrees (in nearly everything I could – I do draw the line at taking calculus again) and make lovely designs on my wall with them. Of course, with obscene wealth, I would also see every play each summer at the Ashland and Cedar City Shakespeare Festivals, have custom bookshelves built for my comics collection, follow my two favorite music groups around for a few weeks – but wouldn’t lots of people do the same?

Okay, maybe not the first two.  But I stand by them as an excellent plan.

Which means I should confess to my extreme nerdiness, (although some level of it is made obvious by the subject of the blog). My nerdiness, or geekitude, comes in many flavors, most concerning the arts in some way. I love art in all forms – novels, short stories, poetry, comics, film, plays, painting, memoirs, sculpture, essays, television, theatre, music, museums, architecture, gardens, concerts – okay, I’m sure you’re getting the point. (And yes, with that theoretical wealth, I would also take art classes – and maybe be able to draw more than lopsided stick figures. Some day.)

At any rate, this is the direction of the blog. An exploration of everything I can learn – because repeating what we learn and sharing it helps us to make it more a part of ourselves. Although I feel certain that I will digress frequently into an exploration of old knowledge – favorites and not-so-favorites – in an effort to make connections.

Wish me luck, and feel free to make suggestions for me – things that I should read or see or experience – things that you have enjoyed and found worthwhile.

Plus, I am using this as a platform for posting my efforts during National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo). Those of you who don’t care for poetry, I am not offended if you skip that part.

P.S. About the Blogosphere – Since I want to contribute to the blogging community, I figure I should spend some time reading other blogs. I’ll share comments on what I read and hopefully spread the word on some good sites. Maybe one or two each week, with a report on what I’ve read.