Moment of beauty

Actors look to me like the moon, the crag, the house in this painting. Helplessly, endlessly beautiful. Like driftwood.

I taught the opening class of Acting for NonActors this evening. A rainy windy night, people coming from home and work, sitting nervously in a white, no-windowed classroom. This time I'm in a yoga room, an inner room with a rug and amber dimmable lights. Everyone goes "ahhh" when I turn off the fluorescents, turn on the ambers, start the soft music, and teach them to moosh. "Leave your life at the door," I begin, "You can pick it up on the way out if you need it."

Mooshing is like a poor-man's massage of the shoulders, arms, neck, and head. A way to get us connected to the earth, our breath, and humanity. My acting teacher, Mark, used to have us do this and I have carried it with me ever since.

Anyway, they looked beautiful. And seeing wild gorgeous humans makes me long for more beauty. That's why I'm including Starry Night.

I turned in my Odd Tuesdays binder today. It did not look like those actors. It looked like an actor trying to Look Good -- full of nervousness, defensiveness, fear. I had tried to make it like a business binder. I give myself credit for making it and turning it in -- a step is a step -- but I'm going to redo the format. Make it sweeter, more baby, more like the Starbucks journal. So there's not a lot of Important Noise, but just some enticing goals.