Tis the season!

~~~

So before I started school, I definitely knew that this year would be an overwhelming year of a lot of hard work and not as much play. And I had totally accepted that because I was really excited to be back in school, learning new things, meeting new people, and hopefully finding my path on the next exciting chapter that is my life! 

But there are some days, oh some sweet autumnal days where the golden leaves glimmer, and I sit and wonder why I'm working and not knitting. So lately I've been tackling some projects that require only my hands and not my eyes! That has sort of worked when reading is involved (and there is a lot of reading in graduate school, good grief), but I'm still getting the hang of it. I think if you watch me trying to knit and not look at my knitting.... it's a pretty funny sight. Face all scrunched up in concentration... my fingers fumbling to find the stitches. Hah! 

But as much as I'd love to whip out the sewing machine and really go crafty-crazy this fall/winter, alas it will not be so. Knitting and maybe embroidery is about the only thing I can handle space-wise, sewing just takes up too much room with the machine, and all my books current occupy that desk. 

On the other hand, I think I've always been somewhat of a seasonal crafter, with sewing in the summer and knitting in the winter. There is just something so nice and cozy about knitting in winter, any knitter will tell you so. And in the summer, the longer days make sewing more fun, jumping from the machine to the ironing board to the machine and back again. 

As soon as the season started to turn, my ache to knit started with vigor and has not stopped since. Who knows, maybe since I've started in September, I may just reach my goal of knitting something for everyone I love this holiday season!

In the meantime, the notions will wait patiently, brightening our days with their presence and sweetness, and provide the perfect display for some finger puppets, perfect for the impromptu puppet show on the couch during these long nights. What crafty adventures have you started this fall?!

~~~

Circus Goodies

As the summer is slowly coming (and school hasn't started yet), I've been spending most weekends either at the sewing machine, or in the garden. This morning Paul and I worked as a team to finish nine shiny new circus ribbons! He cut, sanded, and shaped the dowels while I went to work on getting brass eyelets punched.

After we finished, I took an extra 20 minutes to make a pretty bag for them, since up till now the ribbons had no place of their own and were often tangled in the other equipment boxes. Hurrah! I have been wanting to make some ribbons for a while now since ours are so well loved. Especially by the little ones! Nothing is more fun that dancing with a shiny new ribbon :).

Best of all, the fabric and ribbon for the bag is all 100% thrifted! Thank you SCRAP!! I love thee.

My Backpack and Me

All things considered, I consider myself to be somewhat of a hermit. Most days all I want to do in the evening is snuggle with my dog and bf and watch Doctor Who. I am not particularly interested in letting the world know what is going on in my life. Frankly, sometimes I wonder if I was born in the wrong generation, (considering my bf is 20 years older, the evidence supports my suspicions).

HOWEVER, every once and a while I want to be just like everyone else, writing blogs about my perfect life and eye-opening adventures, taking pictures of everyday beauty and secretly hoping that someone somewhere will read about my life and be amazed. Because really, this past year has been AMAZING for me. Germany, Israel, England, Wales, Arizona, Mexico. I've been at home for a total of 4 months this past year, and I feel the effects it has had on my psyche. Both negative and positive.

I feel like I am floating, weightless, above the world and everyone is calling for me to come down. I know it is time to come down and sort out the pieces of my life I tossed aside in favor of the backpack. I left a job, I left a home. Neither are the same anymore, and I'm nervous about adapting to the changes. As far as travel goes, I'm done. I'd like to spend some time nesting, I'm not eager to run off to somewhere else exotic. But its strange to think that right now I am very comfortable with myself as a traveler. I know myself, life isn't complicated or weighed down by possessions, deadlines, or even the expectations of those around you who see you everyday, the same as the day before. Maybe that's why I'm not running back with open arms?

One of my realizations in the tropical jungles of Mexico is that the majority of my wardrobe is very fitting for that environment. A lot of clothes my mother passed down to me, or the colorful skirts, shawls, dresses I have accumulated work very nicely as everyday wear. Clothes that stay tucked in my closet in Portland, never daring to come out because it's too cold, or too flashy, or too daring. I want to change that. I love fashion (especially fashion I can pull off for a buck, which I can). It feels great, exactly the same feeling when I used to dress up as a kid. There was once a pair of red pumps that were my favorite pair of my mothers shoes because they were RED. I would walk around in them, way too big for my little toes and make a hell of a racket. Now they fit me perfectly. Treasure.

My sister gets married one week from today.

                                                        Gabi and Me, SF Zoo, 1992. 

My sister and I have had the most polar opposite years. She bought a house with her fiancee and planned a wedding, the two ultimates of settling, committing, making some serious investments in the future. I imagine her standing on a very very solid foundation, and I'm proud of her for building such a wonderful beginning of a life for her new family.

I, on the other hand, ran away and joined the circus (literally), and have been floating, floating, floating ever since. Granted, I have done some things to work towards a future (applying to grad school, etc), but I have noticed that a big similarity between Paul and me is that we both have that flame under us that keeps us moving, searching, exploring, touching the corners of the planet and making each place another home. I have no foundation to stand on that I can call all my own, expect maybe a banana plantation in Nayarit, Mexico. Writing it down for the first time makes my heart thunder. Life is funny that way.

So in about a week I'll be back in Portland, with no immediate plans to take off again. I am nervous to face the winter in full force (well, Portland winter anyway, I know I am a wuss with the cold, I blame SF upbringing). Maybe one day I'll sit down and write about the rest of Israel, all of the UK, and Mexico with everything in between. Or maybe I won't. It's all floating, floating in my head like a dream, but I know it wasn't a dream, and it makes me giddy thinking of all the stories I could tell.

There is one thing I can say for certain. The culminating lesson I have learned, the pearls of wisdom I have gained from meeting all the people I met, all the lives whose paths have crossed with mine. I know that it's all going to be okay. The world is so big. Life is long. And everything is going to be alright. Pretty zen, right?

Sheesh, I've become such a hippie :)

Haifa Diaries pt. 3

July 11, 2012

9:15 -- The Clown's Silhouette
14:00 -- Preparation for Clown Invasion
18:00 -- Clown Invasion of the Neveh Yosef Community Center

So, I wrote a lot about this day after it happened, but it is all a bit scrambled and unclear, so I'd rather start by writing about it now, in real time, a couple weeks after the actual events.

In the morning we had a workshop all about costume, the clown silhouette and the relationship between character and clothing. I have always always always been obsessed with costume, with clothing in general, especially one of a kind, handmade, unique pieces. (Side note: I think that is actually a big reason why I have to go back to Portland... I miss Red Light and Scrap too much, haha). I've dreamt of the day when I finally have enough space to really tackle my sewing with a vengeance, and perhaps get brave enough to try and make clothing. But I digress.

The workshop was really excellent, and the first time we all got into costume as a group. The workshop leader, a street clown for over 20 years and one of the first Dream Doctors was really a clown to aspire to be... he'd been doing it so long the lines between him and his clown were completely blurred. But you could see the love he had for his work, and his costume was as big a part of it as anything. He encouraged us to make our own costumes, as well as have a story for every single piece. And also, don't be afraid to try new costumes, build different outfits, but at the same time try and keep some base element always with you, so from anywhere, your silhouette is still recognizable.

I love costumes. Love love love them. I loved seeing everyone in costume for the first time, because especially with those who have been working a long time (and have a very developed silhouette), their costume can instantly tell you a whole lot about their personality. It's another kind of vulnerability I think, because one of the reasons a clown dresses the way it does is to stand out, to be noticed, and in many ways appear ridiculous and be ridiculed. 

~~~

SO. That leaves me to the second part of this post, The Clown Invasion. 

That evening, after a session of brainstorming, we all hopped on a bus and were taken to a theatre festival in a community center in eastern Haifa. Our job was simple. We were to disembark, and mingle among the people, explore the building, etc etc, and just do what we do: clown around! The only thing we weren't allowed to do was enter any of the performances that were going on, since we would inevitably draw attention and ruin the work various theatre groups had been working on for so long. Rightfully so. 

It was one of those experiences where you basically had to just dive headfirst and don't give yourself time for second thoughts. Upon arrival we were immediately greeted by throngs of people watching a dance group outside the building, music blaring, traffic everywhere. But I quickly learned that's just Israel for you. My first at length encounter was with two little girls who could only say 3 words in English, "Come on!" and "Cookie!". We played for a while, blowing bubbles and chasing with my feather flower, and then they started to lead me somewhere. Man, these girls were on a mission. Every time I paused they both would scream "Come on!" and would grab my hands and pull. Soon they had dragged me all the way to the other side of the lot where we met (I hadn't even entered the main building yet), and I saw that they seemed to be leading me through the exit of the festival, insisting that there were cookies on the other side. I decided it was time to move on. 

So I entered the building, having no clue where I was going or what I would do, or where any of the other 30 clowns were that I had originally arrived with. I spotted an elevator and squeezed in, using the silence as an opportunity to blow up some balloons and let the air out in farts. I think I could have stayed on the elevator, going up and down and up and down for the whole hour and keep myself entertained. But I got out and wandered some more, meeting another clown and playing for a while, then going off exploring the building. 

This was absolutely the strangest and most confusing building I had ever been in. It was on a slope, and the entrance was actually on the 5th floor via a sky bridge, and the stairwells didn't just go up, but through hallways. There were random corridors and the elevator took you higher than the entrance floor, needless to say I never knew where I was. I rounded a corner and found myself in a room where 6 or 7 preteen boys were hanging out with another clown. As soon as they saw me put my bag down, full of spinning plates, a diabolo, juggling balls and scarves, they went nuts and rushed me, emptying it out in excitement and commencing loud and rambunctious play. The other clown left and I found myself alone with these kids, and for about 10 or 15 minutes it was all fun. I periodically had to remind them not to use the spinning plate sticks as swords, and one boy in the corner was very energetic with my bubbles, so much that most of the soap was being sloshed on the floor before he could blow. I did feel a bit overwhelmed by the energy these boys had, and this was my first time clowning alone, but I took a breath and kept up the friendly energy and they were all really determined to learn to use my toys correctly. 

Then at some point, after I had been with them for what felt like an hour but was probably about 10 minutes, something happened and the mood in the room changed. Two of the boys started exchanging very strong words. Then one boy started to hit the other. First he punched him hard in the arm. The a hard kick in the back. I had already raised my voice at that point to break it up but they were oblivious to me. Then the boy gave another hard punch in the shoulder. At that point I grabbed him and led him away as gently as I could, not wanting to provoke any more violence from him. The boy that got hit slipped into the elevator first chance he got, not crying, but I think they are used to that sort of thing. It all happened so fast, but I felt totally blindsighted. After that happened, I was ready to move on from this group. So I packed it all up and slipped away, blowing a kiss as they professed their love to me and trying not to think about what had just happened. 

I went up the stairs and down a hallway and saw before me a room filled with people. That was my way out. I took a breath, and swoosh, opened the doors. There were way too many people in the room, at least 50 or more. I knew immediately I would have to focus my attention on just small groups at a time. Had some funny interactions with a boy scout and army recruiter, and a group of kids, some small and some older with my spinning plates and scarves. There was a sweet girl who immediately understood the point of the flower as a tickling stick, and she chased me for quite some time around the room, delighted to try and catch me. A small boy with big eyes watch with a grin as I performed my scarf in the ear trick. The boy scout gave me a balloon flower and then I gave it to another girl, he was sad and I did everything in my power to make it up to him. Another clown encouraged me to join the army and the boy scouts by kissing the back of their business cards as a signature. Handfuls of children came and went trying my spinning plates. The same little girl who tickled me found my scarves and we played dress-up with her brother, draping ourselves and pretending to be royalty. I stayed in this room until all the clowns were alerted that our hour was up and we met in a basement room for water, sandwiches and a roundtable discussion. 

But it wasn't till I came in, sat down, and took a breath that I realized how upset I was over witnessing the violence between the two boys. I wanted to talk about it, but I felt it bubbling up inside me and I knew that if I opened my mouth that I would break down. So I sat in silence and listened to the others complain and gush about their experiences. Everyone had something to say. To some it was completely pointless, because this wasn't like medical clowning, and was more like street theatre we would normally be paid for. I tried to breathe, and process it in my own mind. There were a lot of factors that made it particularly stressful for me. It was the first time I had clowned alone, and the unfamiliar building was like a labyrinth. And when I was in that room, I was Delilah but I was also the only adult in the room, and the paradox scrambled my little brain. There was a moment when I didn't even feel safe, knowing that this violence was in the room and feeling helpless to prevent it, because at first they did not listen to me. So yeah, I was scared. And the fear didn't reveal itself in all it's glory till we were sitting in that circle. I wanted to say "Hey, I had a weird experience. I have never worked alone and found myself with all these boys, and then there was a moment of violence and I had a moment of panic, being a clown and yet also being the responsible adult. Has anyone else encountered violence while clowning? How do you handle that?" But I wouldn't have been able to say that if I had raised my hand. The dam was cracking and I wanted more than anything not to cry in front of 30 clowns. It wasn't because I was ashamed of crying, because I knew I was in a supportive place. But I think at the time, empathy from 30 people would have been too much to handle. 

But this story ends happily. After the circle broke up, I approached one of my friends, she was the first clown I had met and felt like family to me. I opened up to her about the experience and as I predicted it took me like 10 minutes to get the whole story out because of the tears. I cried, she sympathized, and I felt loved, supported, and much better about it all. It was a moment of acceptance for me that yes, I am a beginner clown and there are many situations I have yet to encounter while performing or clowning. I didn't want pity, but I needed empathy from someone more experienced that my strong reaction was understandable. 

Thinking about all of it in retrospect, I know it wasn't that big of a deal. Boys beat each other up. In the end I am grateful for the experience because it brought up some important questions for me, and highlighted all the craziness that comes with the job of clowning. What does a clown do when we witness things that don't exist in a clown's world, like violence, racism or sexism? When is it okay to break character or take off the nose? What happens when you're the only adult in the room but also the clown, who in many ways is as innocent as a child? I had to face all of these questions head on, and thankfully the situation wasn't particularly dangerous or harmful for anyone. It was actually obvious, I knew I had to intervene physically since they were ignoring me otherwise. But in that moment right when the mood shifted, I had lost all the power and control in the room as the adult and that was disturbing. 

In the end, about 75% of that experience was all good. In fact, 100% of my interactions were positive and friendly, since none of the violence was directed towards me, I just happened to be there when it occurred. But that was really a defining moment for me, and from a psychological standpoint my strong reaction was really curious to dissect later on. My heart is on my sleeve, and when I clown I am like a sponge, absorbing every emotion around me, feeding off the energy of the crowd. I didn't give myself any time to process in the moment so when it all came flooding back later it was about ten times as strong, added onto the chaos (although entirely fun) of the last room I was in, where everywhere I turned there was the potential for a moment shared with a stranger. All in all, an unforgettable experience. 

The night ended with my roommate and I getting sloshed and drinking our troubles away. It was the best ending of a very very eventful day. Oh yes, and when we walked into our apartment, a piece of our kitchen ceiling had fallen down. But that is for the next entry. 

Haifa Diaries pt. 2

July 9th, 2012


10:00 : Human First, Red Nose Second
14:00 : The Medical Clown in a Therapeutic Relationship: Meeting the Patient and Family
16:00 : Movement for Medical Clowns

"Today was a great day. In workshop I finally got the chance to get up in front of everyone, and get some feedback and praise for just being exactly myself. We learned a little step, partnered up, and our direction was to do nothing. Don't be a character, don't ham it up. My heart was in my throat, but to my delight, my energy was described later in exactly the ways that I try to embody Delilah. Sweet, delightful, girly, innocent. I can't wait to get into costume, I think Delilah will really just feed off of the love from everyone. 


For a few short moments in movement class, I began to forget to worry about what other people were thinking, and just really got into exploring my body and creating a story. I don't really know what the story was, a sad little puppet in a box trying to get out, perhaps. Discovering her own hands, arms, legs, and marveling at the moment of a single digit. The object of the exercise was to pick body parts, gently letting them guide the rest of the body up, and then back down, but alway vertically. I picked a corner and really just tried to stay in my own headspace. 


I am happy. Bruises are starting to appear on my pointy limbs. This is the best decision I have made, that feels right deep in my heart. I always had a feeling and high hopes that 23 would be a great year, and being able to come here and do this has made Germany so much more important to me. Panic Circus will just be the sprinkles on this Israel Icing that is on the Germany Cake!"


Real Time thoughts:

Our first week was the best week of the seminar. I think it had a lot to do with the extended workshops that lasted a few days, and it gave us a chance to really form personal relationships with the instructors, as well as take it slow in the classes and really spend time on the details -- because it is all about the details, friends.

The first thing I really learned about "medical clowning" specifically is that it exists all over the world, and it is not a full time job. Every time a participant talked about their schedule, 4 or 5 days a week was always pushing it. I suppose it makes sense when you think about it, because you are really exerting an incredible amount of energy in a small period of time, as well as absorbing all the emotional baggage of any person you might happen to interact with in the hospital.

Medical Clowning is a job full of paradoxes. It is very serious work... but we strive to make a place like the hospital a little less serious. We may play as if we are against the rules and regulations of the hospital staff, and yet we secretly have the same goals that they do. Above everything else, a strong and trusting relationship between the hospital staff and the clown is key. What the first class taught me  is that we are good enough, delightful enough, as simply ourselves. Making that connection with people and that bond that can blossom into play or even just a release of tension, is something you can do without a costume, without props, with nothing but your own person, and an openness in the heart. That is really the beginning of Medical Clowning, and it was surprisingly difficult because hand in hand with that openness is the vulnerability of rejection.

Haifa Diaries pt. 1

My next few posts are going to be the entries I wrote while in Israel. Starting 20 days ago on July 7th, my second night. 

July 7, 2012

The fridge here is the loudest fridge I have ever encountered in a home. It drowns out the silence of the empty flat, but replaces it with a feeling of melancholy and loneliness. This apartment is totally empty but for the sound of that fridge humming away, so loud that bumble bees might mistake it for a hive. At this moment, the fridge mirrors my own heart, humming, working, but empty on the inside. I guess I am one of those worriers when it comes to travel. Starting the 24 hours before I need to be at the airport till the moment I arrive at my destination and am able to drop my bags and take that first deep breath, I worry. And I think it gets worse when I travel alone. Especially now, traveling to a place I have never been and know nothing about, to do something I have never done with people I have never met. Can you tell I am a little melancholy tonight? 

First impressions of Israel. It is warm, and every single house apartment and building is white, or at least used to be white. The poverty and the wealth are side by side... On one side of the street is a swanky restaurant and immediately on the other is a a food stand reminiscent of Mexican food stands... Styrofoam cups and paper plates.  And it is hilly. Oh my is it ever hilly. When traveling through the city on a shared taxi, it was almost like a roller coaster ride, because besides being hilly, Haifa seems to have very few straight streets. The University where the seminar will be taking place is on a mountain looking over the city and the port, so I am expecting some great views. 

But the people are very nice, all of them. It has really been a comfort. Although men seem to think that one conversation with you gives them the right to ask for your phone number. But I guess it helps when you have no phone, haha! (Although it is unfortunate that I am the only person with my name... And finding me on Facebook is easy as pie). Last night after dropping my things off, I wandered over to the little restaurant across the street from the swanky one... after a day of travel I didn't feel particularly "swanky", and I got this yummy flaky pastry filled with potatoes and mushrooms, with spicy pickles and an egg on the side. There was one kid behind the counter, and after I finished my food we chatted a bit since I was feeling lonely. I told him I was there for two weeks for a medical clowning seminar. He told me he was leaving for the army in two weeks. 

Even though there is no Internet at my apartment, I found some at the coffee shop by my flat, so I am content. I found salt, and I won't starve, so that is good too. Today was really lovely, My semi-host, Shir, brought me and another seminar clown to see the Bahai gardens, the most famous landmark and pride of Haifa, rightfully so. Holy gardens that travel down a steep slope with a beautiful temple in the middle, it's lawns stick out in a sharp contrast to the metropolitan areas around it. Then she brought us to her parents home for a traditional Shabbat lunch, wheat and beans with date honey, potatoes and sweet potatoes with date honey, so yummy! Also rice, veggies, and fresh cold plums, grapes and nectarines for dessert, so yum! Her 17 year old sister, Mai, was sweet, opinionated and talkative. Also going to the army soon, in 2 months. But it was really wonderful to be around a family and to have a family meal, that hasn't happened in a long time for me. 

Tomorrow the seminar starts, and I meet my roommate. eehsk!! Also, at some point, I will tell you all what this seminar is actually all about! 

Dr. Delilah!

Today everything changed.

I should have written this blog post this morning, when I was bouncing off the walls and spastically hugging my coworkers who had no idea what was going on with me. I was WAY too excited then, and unfortunately all I had for breakfast was coffee. But I will no longer let the suspense linger! I have wonderful, fantastical, magical news!

In July, I will be going to Israel for two weeks to participate in a Medical Clowning Summer Seminar! For those of you who are wondering what exactly medical clowning entails, just think Patch Adams. The seminar will take place in Haifa, and is modeled after a three year BA program that the University of Haifa offers. As far as I know, this is the only degree program of it's kind, and it was created in part to help legitimize medical clowning as a therapeutic tool and practice in hospitals. I heard about the seminar from a family friend, and after a couple nights of wondering whether I was actually good enough to even consider applying, I leapt... and got accepted.

I am still reeling! Medical clowning is something I have been intrigued by ever since I started reading about it a few months ago, but I always thought that if I ever did pursue it, it would be some time in the future when I had a few more years experience as a clown under my belt. It takes such an amazing amount of strength, I still wonder whether I have that strength.

Anyone who has gotten me talking about circus knows that I am a huge advocate for the incredible healing powers circus arts and clowning can bring. I love teaching it because the smile that kids get on their faces when they finally spin a plate or ride a unicycle. The JOY and excitement when their parents see them perform a feat of incredible skill! It takes so much patience of the self, acceptance, confidence,  these are the real lessons we are teaching. I remember when I first met one of my very dear clown friends, I asked him why he got into circus work. He told me, "Because it's magic", and I laughed. But he was totally serious. Seriously, serious, magic. Fast forward to today, and I find myself saying the same thing when people ask me why I do it. It really is a kind of magic, to look at a kid and say hey, I am going to teach you this skill that looks physically impossible, and if you trust me and trust yourself, you can do anything!

Gosh I am turning into such a hippie...

Participating in this seminar does mean however, that I will have to cancel my plans to go to Austria and participate in the World Body Painting Festival. They start on the same weekend, and it's sad because I was looking forward to that... but in the end I know this is the right decision to make.

This is one of those times when I know I am going FAR outside of my comfort zone, doing something that is bound to be full of experiences that will be taxing on my heart and body, but also incredibly rewarding. I'll be meeting lots of other clowns, some of whom have worked in hospitals, some who haven't. More updates and musings to come! The flight is booked!