What Can Illness Do To YOU?!?

So, this may sound blatantly obvious, but being sick really sucks tennis balls.  It feels like it, too.  You get all the little hairs in your mouth and throat, making it really annoying and hard to swallow.  Then it migrates into your lungs, making each breath expel with a little puff of dust.  Then, if you suck hard enough, the whole ball just sinks into your stomach, and that is no bueno, muchacho.

And right now, my whole floor is sick with bronchitis and flu, so we've got tennis balls all around.

It's given me a good opportunity to study just how it looks to be sick, though.  It isn't pretty, but if you ever have to be a character who is moaning and groaning (and we all have, cast into that part in response to the bi-monthly math exam), it's good to have some references.

Being ill is similar to getting about two to three times your average amount of sleep, and yet still feeling like you've trekked across the Rockies for ten days straight.  Movement is sluggish, breathing is heavy, and you become more acquainted with soft foods and soups than you ever felt the desire to be.  Usually the body is hunched over and arms hang lifelessly - sometimes, they even neglect to swing when you walk.  Basically, you become a gorilla with a strong preference to chicken noodle and applesauce.

Fortunately, no one is throwing up.  Even though I can't describe the visuals in detail for you avid readers to be able to replicate, a small voice in the back off my head screams to me that no one really wants to know that anyway.

And, in lighter news, tomorrow's lunch will be tacos.  Maybe.

A Less-Than-Vertical Perspective - Minus One Forward

The world looks much different when viewed from a different perspective, and few people know this better than the next category in our countdown, the leaning-folk. Leaning in any direction gives off a separate vibe. Obviously, there are many different directions to lean - north, south, east, west, and every direction in between the four (I guess that would include the up- and down-directions, but for the sake of simplicity, let's keep this strictly two-dimensional). Because I want to keep topics open for future blogs, and because I'm just lazy that way, I will focus on just the relative backwards lean.

Users of the gymnastics' tumblers and recent dance floors know there are few moves harder to pull off (and more impressive on the completion) than the back-bend.  In that position, however, you can look either at the ceiling or directly behind you at a close-to-the-floor upside-down angle - both angles are likely vastly different from all of your adoring fans.  Casual backwards leans are likewise able to give you give separate views, and are used as such.  When was the last time, upon completion of a lengthy essay or strenuous office report, you leaned back in your chair to stretch your weary muscles and review the fruits of your hard-work?

I have also seen many a person who, when shown something surprising, revolting or invasive of their personal space, will instinctively lean back (often accompanied by a few steps in reverse) to add some extra room between them and the object in question.  Upon completion of this act, they will then begin the conscious effort of scrutinizing the object and determine if it is worthy of much more of their valuable attention.

Oddly enough, other than the examples explained above, the use of leaning back to portray a certain expression or emotion usually is done in a comical or humorous context, such as the dead-drop-backward-fall faint frequently done in comedy sketches and cartoons.

A Peculiar Stance; Not Quite Recollection #3

In class today (you know, the Acting: Movement class this blog is done for), I noticed something very interesting about the stance of everyone in the room. Whenever we were doing the exercises, such as walking or running or acting like rubber bands, there were a few people who would go all out and look like fools (and invariably fulfill the requirements of the class by doing such), some who would do what was asked, and some who did something that vaguely resembled what the exercise was asking for.

However, as soon as the exercise stopped and we were to listen to the instructor, nearly every single person would fall into a uniform stance of crossing their arms and watching the instructor intently. Sure, there was a number of people putting their hands on their hips, and the odd one or two people whose arms hung like wet spaghetti, but I am serious when I say almost every single individual would, at the instant we started being taught the importance of the exercise, would fold their arms and gaze at the teacher like he was about to lead them into a solemn prayer.

At first, I thought this bizarre. Then I noticed that I was doing it too, and I immediately stopped calling it bizarre.

Actually, I remember back in high school, in theater classes and during productions, when the teacher/director stopped us in the middle of doing something, and we broke character for a moment to listen, I remember doing and watching others do the exact same thing.

I'm starting to think this is an actor's subconscious habit or some kind of unspoken superstition that, if we are only breaking character for a moment, we are to cross our arms and close the body, lest the emotional connection we strive so hard to gain slip out through the cracks in our theatrical pen. Crossing the arms must be the key to some mental lock.

That, or we are all conformist, and we are all crazy.

The Picture Says It All

What is it about people and their infatuation with the foot-to-foot-and-a-half of space around them that makes them so keen to invade this space of others while bitterly defending their own to the death?  This supernatural phenomenon has been given scientific terms and is known amongst scientists and professionals worldwide interchangeably as "no-touchas mi-spaesas" and "donnapopa mi-bublas".  Among the common man, however, this area is known simply as "personal space".

This is actually quite an interesting topic of the human mentality, as it refers to a space within about a foot and a half of any given person's body.  A common practice people do with this space is to draw imaginary boundaries around it and erroneously label it as their own.  (In extreme cases, people have been known to act as their own attack dogs when this border has been crossed.)  The size and density of this space depends entirely on the mindset of the person in question, ranging from near-nonexistent vapor to a full meter in all directions of mental impenetrable brick.

A study done by the extremely well known and highly prestigious study group, The Company for the Study and Evaluation of Personal, Physical, Mental, and Metaphorical Area-Mass, or more simply CSEPPMMAM (you know you have heard of it) revealed that, in many cases, the relative volume of any given person's personal space carried a direct relationship to the lifestyle of the person in question.  For example, the size of this space was greatly increased around those rooted in personal or non-physical hobbies or careers, such as Literature, Matematics, Language, and Life Sciences.  Inversely, The size would be increasingly minuscule the more physical the lifestyle of the person in question came to be.  Such lifestyles included, but are not limited to: Theater, Dance, and (to somewhat of a lesser extent) various sporting areas.

This same study also revealed that for every person in the world, there is the existence of at least one other person which, when the two are placed together under controlled conditions, the personal space of both subjects virtually deplete from existence.  A lack of sufficient resources renders this study group unable to determine exactly what conditions trigger this phenomenon, and thus far this conclusion remains to be merely a theory.

Recollection Post #2

It seemed like only yesterday that I had my first go at tight rope walking.  This is probably because it was yesterday - a little more than exactly 24 hours ago, actually.

I guess to say it was tight rope walking is a little misleading.  It was more like a long nylon webbing tied between two trees at about two feet above the ground.  Sounds intimidating, no?  It was actually a lot harder than it looked, and that's saying something since the guy that the webbing belonged to was not only making it look easy, he was making it look ridiculously childish; he would get on the webbing, walk the whole length, walk back to the middle, swing around a bit, sit down in cross-legged position, lay down on his back, stand up again, walk a little more and swing a little more, and then with full intentionality step off of the nylon - all without touching the ground once.

When anyone else tried to get on the precarious strand of nylon, they were lucky to make the first step.  Scratch that: they were extremely lucky.  They were lucky if they managed to get up at all.

This guy (I have completely forgotten his name, so for the sake of convenience we shall dub him "Tarzan") would, at near regular intervals, would step in to demonstrate, as well as instruct us on exactly what we were doing wrong.  (I feel sorry for him; his hands were full in that regard.)  One of Tarzan's explanations, however, struck me as very meaningful.

When Tarzan spoke of balancing on the webbing, one of the spectators commented on how good he/she was at walking on a curb or balance beam, yet this was completely beyond their comprehension.  Tarzan explained that there were two different kinds of balance - one he called "normal" (which, to sound scientific and knowledgeable, I shall call "static" balance), and another he called "dynamic".  The difference between static and dynamic balances were thus: static balance involved balancing on a stationary surface (balance beam, curbside, skinny rock, etc.), whereas dynamic balance involved balancing on a moving surface (ropes, wooden bridges, someone else's back, etc.).  The goal of dynamic balance, Tarzan explained, was to keep your body's center of balance in constant motion contrary with the surface, which pupils of static balance, who learned to keep the center of balance completely still, could not easily do.

In case you were wondering, I did indeed try my luck at walking the tight nylon, and I failed miserably, which is why I am now sporting sore toes on my left foot.  On that thought, a note for people who want to try this exercise: when (not if) you fall off of the nylon, get your feet out of the way, as the nylon has a nasty habit of snapping back and eating your toes.

Nerdlings, Unite!

I had my computer programming class today.  That means I was in the same room with about twenty five people who have love affairs with technology.  Yes, I added myself in that number, but don't worry.  Our frolicing was entirely legal and did not destroy our self image for years to come.  No snide comments, please.  Thank you.

When sitting with these future employers and six-digit makers, I noticed something very interesting - the general placement of their bodies.  When making gestures (or doing anything with their hands, for that matter), it was in the sagittal plane, directly in front of them.  Their heads were continuously forward, necks outstretched like a room full of ostriches.  This has come from a lifetime of looking at a computer screen, hands outstretched to various forms of keyboards and mice.

Let the future beware.  Soon, we of the computing clan will one day invade your streets, skin pale from lack of exposure to the sun, eyes blanked white with over exposure to vividly bright monitor screens, and our arms permanently stretched forward, groping at imaginary keys, inputing non-existant coding for the rest of eternity.

Arms and Idleness

Many people have their own unique gestures, periodic movements, and spontaneous convulsions of their arms and hands.  Most know of these acts which seem to just naturally happen.  Performers of all ages know instinctively when a gesture is needed, and some more experienced ones know what gesture to use when.

What seems to trip even the most talented and journey-hardened crafters of the art is what to do with these shoulder appendages when they aren’t doing anything at all.  Whether reciting a monologue, carrying a conversation, or dramatizing the star musical piece of the show, just letting the arms hang limp seems an entirely unnatural act, while never letting them have any kind of stationary moment makes a person look as if they have consumed several dozen cups of coffee.

This decision appears to be based on what the character himself/herself is like as a person.  People in real life hold a vast assortment of idle activities for their arms.  Some place their hands on their hips (facing forward, backward, or balled into fists), while others prefer the folding-arms approach.  Others still do in fact let the arms droop lifelessly from their sockets while they are not engaged in a symbolic dance through the air.  (Maybe this is a sign of peaceful simplicity or overwhelming laziness, one can not now for sure.)

Recollection Post

I watched the Greenshow last Friday, but for some reason or other, I didn't say anything about it until now.  I guess the journal daemons will strike me down and use my lucky belt for a skipping rope until I get my ideas down.  I'd better hurry, too, because I've seen what they do to their skipping ropes, and I like my belt in one piece.

When I watched the performers do their bits, I noticed a lot of open gestures that exposed them to the audience.  If you want to get technical, they performed a lot in their vertical (wall) plane.  They used many different stances, but for the main part, their legs were slightly apart and their hands on their hips or in the air to their sides.

I guess to say this isn't being completely accurate, since their entire act wasn't cartwheels and side-steps.  To be more specific, the upper half of their body was very vertical-ish while the lower half was actually somewhat sagittal.  When they took a step, it was very deliberately forward.

My say is this style of a stance is what free entertainment is all about, when emotional roller coasters are not part of the act.  The art of entertainment for the sake of entertainment is all about making the audience feel like the actors want to perform for them, hence all the open gestures.  If the change was made that made the performers act more in the horizontal or sagittal planes, it would seem like a wall would have been erected between the people on stage and the people sitting on the grass (the show was free, so no fancy cushioned seats).