refuse to choose

Refuse to Choose

Great book by Barbara Sher, author of I Could Do Anything If I Only Knew What It Was.

This book is focussed on people who don't have a single focus in life, but instead, want to do LOTS of things -- and do. She calls such people "Scanners," and describes 10 or 12 different types.

I am a Serial Master. A Serial Master's pattern is to stay with one thing for years, until they master it, then move on to the next thing. Finding the next thing is like falling in love; it cannot be predicted or summoned, only encountered. A Serial Master's true skill is excellence. I am a Serial Master, with Wanderer rising.

seeking room near UW, July-Aug

I have a friend from Gardzienice, the legendary theatre company in eastern Poland, who is coming for a month to study at the University of Washington this summer. She will be here 7/25 - 8/25, and is looking for a room to rent within walking or biking distance.

I'd like to find her a beautiful place that's spiritually renewing.

If you have any leads, have a room in your house you'd be willing to sublet, or know a childless or empty-nest couple with extra bedrooms and a fondness for European artists or theatre, let me know. She is friendly, non-smoking, speaks Polish & English, has no allergies, and loves pets.

Any questions, email me at realrachel@aol.com.

wrong job, career paths

Tonight I ate dinner with Rich. "If you do anything, what would you do?" I asked. "What I'm doing now," he said. He has the same job I do. We talked about the by-invitation-only boardgame convention he had just returned from; the games he's working on; the games he's playing. When we got back to work, he showed me the map he'd created for PuzzleHunt last year, and how, when you zoomed in, it revealed tiny buildings with tiny clocktowers with tiny clockhands.

"I set the clock's time to be the same as in that Nicolas Cage movie about the treasure hunt," he said. At that exact moment -- my defenses down, late at night, tired, gazing at games within games within games built solely for pleasure -- I suddenly realized, I am in the wrong job.

Rich is a dolphin in the ocean of joy, when he is making games. I am a dolphin when I am rehearsing or life-coaching; when I and others are focussed on becoming our whole mysterious authentic selves.

"I think NTJ's are better than most people at figuring out what they love, and accomplishing it" he said. "We're good at abstracting, from reality. We are good at analysis, so once we've got the abstraction, we can see what's there. And we're planners -- once we see it, we go get it. In college, I majored in game design. Then I decided to get a game internship, and got it. I decided to go fulltime and got it. I decided to move to Microsoft doing games, and got it. I decided to go fulltime in Microsoft games and got it."

An ENFP works differently.

I decided to drop out of college and follow my bass-player boyfriend to California. I decided to play piano for ballet studios at night. I left piano to get a job in software because my software housemates wore jeans and slept in and made a lot of money and had interesting work. I left software to lead Software Development Bootcamps because attending Bootcamp had blown my mind. I left Bootcamp to study theatre because I was great at improv in Bootcamp, and wanted more training. I left theatre to work with Lyon -- to do a company as mysterious as theatre, and as conscious & meta-conscious as Bootcamp & software. It didn't work out, but that still feels like my trajectory. I am headed toward theatre-plus-something-more-conscious.

The thing that will crack all this open is going to the gym.

Once I start to move, I'm going to move forever. I walked for an hour on Sunday with Shawn. Another hour on Monday with Rob. Yes, said my body contentedly. Yes.

took the paintings to town

Today I took the 4 portraits Wes and I have done, plus 5 of the co-paintings I did with Sal. I showed them to Jeff, over at his housesitting place. I showed them to my whole program manager team at our staff meeting. I showed them to Jim, my therapist. They had the same effect everywhere: a hush, followed by a long absorbed gazing. When I put them away, it was like taking light out of the room.

The wildest, for me, was showing them at my PM meeting. I set the paintings against one wall, one row on the whiteboard, one row on the floor. It was like sending an electric shock through the room. Their faces softened and opened, and they stared. When the site team came in for the meeting afterward, the same thing happened again -- they all stopped, stared, and couldn't stop asking questions. It was like they were drugged. They couldn't look away.

It is incredible to send that kind of lightning-bolt stimulus into people. It is a measure of the quality of these paintings, and their unconsciousness, that people are so struck.

After the PM meeting, I had gotten time with Linh to learn how to do the kind of game I'm doing next. "Hey," I said, thinking of the co-painting. "Let's draw a co-mind-map." I spread a big piece of butcher paper on my art table, and for half an hour we drew all the areas of my upcoming game that a PM would worry about. We drew at the same time; we drew on each other's areas; we linked to each other's. "We need a bigger paper," she said at the end. "I've got more paper, I'll book us again," I said.

It is amazing how much I learned from her. I have been getting braindumps and reading docs, but this was SO much better. So clear, so fast. I pinned it up on my wall.

This is another way I am integrating my life. Instead of keeping art over HERE... and work way over HERE... I am starting to let them mix together.

ochre and turquoise
on the same brush -- brilliant green,
streaked and buttery

Speaking of portraits, you should see Radmila's. When she is ready to share her paintings, I'll post a link. When I see her portraits, I stare. And stare. And stare. She is working in black and white, and their power is incredible.

What I really want to say is, I miss the people at work. I wish I knew them like I know actors. After even 3 hours, I know actors better than I know work people in a year. I feel like I am drinking dust, wading in dust, breathing dust, when I don't know the people around me and they don't know me. So, taking the diamond cutter's advice, I am starting the change by revealing myself.

Wes 2 - in progress

Wes 2

Here is one of our paintings, in progress. At this stage, Wes has finished the face, using a stunning blend of the techniques from "Jerry" (portrait #3, already posted) and "Holly" (in progress). I have made the first mark on the background. It's part of a quote from Eugenio Barba: What you must do, you must do -- and ask no questions. The white of the t-shirt is the paper itself, an incredibly thick, stiff, rough-textured Punjab watercolor paper.

By the time we finish, the quote will be buried, as will most of the yellow. A secret of the painting.

Paint progress - 4/17/06

The Reading, by Trevor Romain

[I am reposting this from Trevor Romain's blog.]

April 06, 2006
THE READING
by Trevor Romain


I have written about a wonderful 12-year-old named Megan Stento before, but I was reminded of her yesterday and thought I'd share her story once more:

Megan was an amazing 12-year-old girl who taught me how to turn feathers into wings.

I remember visiting Megan at the hospital one morning and telling her about a new book I had just written called The Other Side Of the Invisible Fence. (Which is unfortunately out of general circulation, but available on my web site.)

“I’m going to dedicate the book to you," I said.

“Thanks,” whispered Megan softly, with parched, dry lips. "That means a lot to me."

Megan was a beautiful child with a smile that could reach across an entire room. The effects of chemotherapy and grueling radiation sessions did not dampen her wonderful demeanor.

“As soon as the book comes out, I’ll read it to you,” I offered.

Megan said nothing for a few seconds. Then she said, “You’ll have to read real loud if I’m in heaven.”

She turned to me and smiled.

“I will.” I said. “If you die before this book comes out I’ll climb on the roof of my house and read so darn loud you’ll hear me all the way up there."

Megan fought an incredible battle, but she was no match for the savage cancer that ripped her body apart from the inside out. She died only days after our conversation.

Megan’s mom Becky spoke to me after the funeral. “You are going to keep you promise to Megan aren’t you?”

“Of course I am,” I said, fighting back my tears.

Becky called me later that day and asked if the family could come over to my house when I climbed on the roof to read the book. She thought it would be a good memorial to Megan.

“Absolutely,” I told her.

“Becky called me the next day and asked if I wouldn’t mind very much if Megan’s class came to the reading on the roof.

“I would love that.” I told her.

A few days later the principal of the school called and asked if the entire school could come to the reading on the roof.

That’s when I said, “I don’t think it’s possible. My garden is too small.”

Well, that did not stop Becky Stento. By the next morning she had arranged for me to do the reading on the roof of the Laguna Gloria Art Museum here in Austin. The location was ideal. The two-story building had a flat roof with a deck on it and was surrounded by a beautifully manicured green lawn.

It rained the entire week before the reading and we were fearful that the reading might not take place. Then on the morning of the event, as I climbed the stairs to the roof, the sun came out and bathed the entire garden in a warm golden light.

Once on the roof I leaned on the little wall surrounding the deck and looked over the edge.

My heart stopped.

Sitting on the lawn on chairs and blankets were almost a thousand people. I still do not how so many of them heard about the event.

The entire crowd was completely silent. The only sound I heard was the chirping of happy birds in the woods surrounding the lawn and the occasional barking of a dog way off in the distance.

The silence touched me in ways I cannot describe.

I looked up into the sky...and read the book to Megan.

portraits 1, 2, 3

I like re-posting the whole series, each time there's a new painting. So I can study them all at once, and see what is evolving.

detail, portrait 3

The cherry blossoms were painted from a photo of cherry blossoms in the newspaper. The ivy was painted from a sprig of ivy from Wes's yard, laid next to the paper.

These are part of my experiment, Put more things that look like things in the background. Which is in turn part of the experiment, Make the background more specific; more truthful; more connected to the portrait & to me.