First page of the passive voice archive.

life is art.

Posted by jessica on Mar 27, 2011 with 2 Comments
in Performance, Thoughts and Feelings
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I am typing this from my pop’s computer. It’s not a mac. That’s okay, but it feels weird.

What happened to your computer, Jessica?

Thank you for asking. Well, it seems to have a problem with the mouse. As in, it clicks on nothing. As in, it no longer does anything. At all. My skinny little macbook air is sick and it looks like its days are numbered.

But tonight my piece was performed (oh, passive voice, you make me cringe) and I have to say, I was proud. It’s funny, I was watching so intently; I mean, it was like work. My whole body was tense and I am sure my face looked a little crazy. Thankfully, nobody was looking at my face. I have a video clip of the piece I will post on here. Just as soon as I find the dang cord that lets me do things like that. It seems I have lost it. I cannot imagine how I have done that. Anyone who knows me knows that my room is always perfectly in order. As is my car. As is my life. As is every last one of the electronics that I totally know how to use.

Jokes are hilarious.

People who have seen my piece have asked me: But what does the end mean?! Are they together? Are they not?

I wish I had an answer for them, but the truth is, I really don’t even know. I usually ask them what they thought it meant. And then, sure, that’s what it means. I have come to realize that I probably have more questions than answers. I think the same thing compels me to both ask my questions and make art.

Anyway.

It was a good night; I love dance.

I feel a lot of things, but grateful is up there tonight.

lullaby

Posted by jessica on Nov 11, 2009 with 10 Comments
in I Lift My Eyes Up, Performance, video
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There is a piano at this hotel.

It’s funny, whenever I ask the person behind the front desk if I can play the hotel piano, their first response is usually just a flat-out no. And I let them say that. Because I am so nice. And because I have no control over them.
But then I smile. I act very kind. And I ask them one more time. Or ask when a good time to play their piano would be.
And most of the time, they respond with a why don’t you play it right now?
And suddenly we are on the same team.
That happened tonight.
And settling down onto that bench, hearing the creak of the wood as I adjust to just the right spot, it’s like coming home.
Actually, my piano bench at home has some leather on it. And when I was writing an essay for my Freshman Writing class at UArts, I mentioned something awkward like hearing the sound of the leather stretch as I sat down to play. My amazing teacher who opened my eyes to the importance of a thesis statement as well as the evils of passive voice, graded it and sent it back with a question. In red.
Do you always wear tight leather pants when you play the piano?
Point taken.
Specificity is invaluable, folks.
And no, I don’t always wear tight leather pants when I play the piano.
Only sometimes.
Anyway, I played for a long time tonight. I wrote something, a song I guess, if it makes it that far. I really like the chorus, but have my reservations about the verses. So, we’ll see. There’s always more work to be done, isn’t there? More things to make, which is good news. Something to fix your heart on, something to bring you hope.
But here is a lullaby I like to sing.
It brings me comfort. Makes me think of parents. Or God. But generally of being loved and cared for.