Black out and Paranoia

Thank you Google, for scaring the crap out of some 150,000 people yesterday evening.

After a great day of vintage shopping and seeing Giselle with a friend, I came home to repeated error messages upon attempting to log into my email. No worries. Maintenance happens. So I updated Carpe Cibus and moved along on a new costume design. I checked gmail again, maybe an hour later, in the hopes of emailing a director. Only this time no error popped up. I was redirected to a page stating my account had been disabled.

In a panic, I checked the url for the various blogs...all were redirected to pages stating they had been removed. Years of my history, frustrations and thoughts sudden gone into the internet ether. And the last few weeks of culinary experiments...vapor.

This morning nothing had changed...all accounts were still disabled. Only there was a whispering among tech sites that google had a glitch that greatly inconvenience at least 150,000 people. Many who had lost all contacts and emails.

Google has largely been mum on the issue. Though as you can see, blogger is back up and running with nary a post missing. My email is still down. but the time for panic has long since past.

And thus again the need to back up everything has been reasserted.

End times

Perhaps it is due the relentless snow. Or the sudden and unceasing pain in my knees that stirred restless dreams last night and failed to offer any reprieve at work today, no matter how I stood or sat. Or the steady stream of political bashing and bullheaded refusal to negotiate that assaults me every time I open a newspaper or log onto my computer. Whatever the true source,I have the sudden and foreboding need to read Revelation.

Foreboding...

Union muddle

The news from our neighbors in Wisconsin seems incredibly surreal these days...an attack on unions, an attack on the working class, an attack on teachers and public workers (except police and firefighters, of course). The bill and subsequent protests are all happening so fast my head is spinning. It's the Midwest's own Egypt. Is Ohio the next Libya?

And in the end what is it about? Walker would have us believe it is about balancing the budget. And no doubt, in part that is the goal. But I feel, as do the thousands that have poured into Madison in protest this week, that is goes deeper than that...

Yes, spending does need to be reigned in. And tough choices need to be made. Choices most of us would rather not even acknowledge. Someone in the end will lose out. In times when budgets are spread so thin, everyone feels the pinch...well, perhaps the upper percentage of the income brackets not so much...

But this bill goes beyond tightening the belt. Beyond freezing wages, cutting benefits or forcing more employee contributions. The current state legislators of Wisconsin are looking to dissolve the collective bargaining power of public sector unions. Wisconsin's teachers, construction workers, librarians, health workers, urban planners...the number of people employed by the state truly is mind-boggling.

And quite frankly, I do have mixed feeling about unions. There are many instances when I have felt that some unions only protect those who no longer fulfill the requirements they were hired to fill. Tenured positions, lax review boards, a sense of complacency and entitlement occasionally and unfortunately keep a few employees on payroll with being held accountable for actually doing the jobs required of them. When a union's power protects an ineffective employee over the needs of those the employee is suppose to be servicing than yes, I take issue with said unions.

But much of my philosophy in life stems from a strong sense of accountability and responsibly for one's own actions.

But unions pay a vital role in protect the livelihood of those that DO fulfill their job titles.

I would not being doing as well as I am currently if it weren't for a union. To be clear, the theater is not in the public sector, but that does not minimize the role of our union in the slightest.

For a long time (and in many cases the notion is still holds fast) costume work was women's work. There existed, and still does exist, the notion that everyone and their mother could sew. Costume shop employees...drapers, tailor's, stitchers, milliners, dyers...we were viewed as more expendable, and far less skilled or specialized than our brethren in the scene shop or electric shop. THOSE were the skilled trades. And as such, the employees of the costume shops were not regarded as highly, nor was the pay camparable, or benefits as generous. However, our hours were the same, if not longer. And the number of master's degrees and other higher certifications and training within the costume shop itself far outnumber all other areas of production combined. It turned out these skills were not honed by everyone and their mom, but by people who had devoted their careers to this art.

So the shop banned together. And they were joined by not only other area costume shops, but by the already unionized scene shop staff and electrics staff. As a result, now all production staff are contracted under IATSE collective bargaining agreement. And guess what...the costume shops STILL drag far behind our scene shop and electric brethren. But our employee acknowledge our skill and devotion. And we earn a far more livable wage as well as benefits...

It's a hard line to walk, protect workers, while avoiding complacency. But unions have there place. And I pity Wisconsin if this bill does indeed succeed...a step backwards in the state that was at the forefront of worker's rights.

Saint Valen-who?

Saint Valentine's Day. Singles Awareness Day. Hallmark Holiday. Married Couples Day.

Love it, hate it or express indifference, Valentine's Day has arrived.

What exactly is today, beyond the roses, chocolates and tacky sweet notes? Do we even know who St Valentine is and why we celebrate this day? No, most of us don't. Before my poking and prodding online and in few book of saints, all I could recall of the supposed St Valentine was that he was a martyr. I somehow associated a fairly gruesome Renaissance painting with the saint. Turns out the Ruben was actually of St. Sebastian...

Well, apparently there was a St. Valentine. Several St. Valentines actually. But the one that comes up most frequently is the one that defied Claudius II in the late 200s AD by marrying Christian couples (apparently single men were needed to support the army...) So he was imprisoned. And Claudius started to take a liking to him...until Valentine attempted to convert the Emperor...leading to Valentine's death by clubbing and beheading.

And thanks to Chaucer and, much later, our Victorian romantics with a firm push by Hallmark in 1913, Valentines Day erupted into the day of affection we now know.

And it seems fitting...the saint died for secretly marrying those in love. Those who wanted to commit to each other in the eyes of God...despite what their government decreed.

And the cynic in me came out. Here we are, celebrating love and commitment out in the open. And my heart went out to many couples I know. Couples who are just as committed to each other, if not more so than most of us. Because they do not have a government that recognizes the choice they've made to stand by each other through thick and thin. Because they are often shunned by faith communities for attempting to show their love for each other. Yet despite that these couples endure. And these couples are vilified because the love they choose, the love they commit to, the love they promise to cherish and to hold...is of the same gender.

Why do we shudder and turn our backs on their commitment to each other? The thoughts of sex? Socially ingrained taboos? Some phase taken out of Leviticus, usually out of context while ignoring the countless other religious mandates that have passed by the wayside? Perhaps. But quite frankly, what is done behind closed doors is between that person, their partner and God. It is none of my business, nor is what I do with my husband any of theirs. But what most of us do pay witness to is the incredible joy and love they share in each others company. And that grace is contagious.

That grace is really what this day is about.

A Year of Shows

What a busy and cultural year this is turning out to be...

At the Guthrie alone I will end up seeing seven shows...not including any jewels produced by outside companies in the Dowling studio.

Ross and I have taken in one piece by Mu Performing Arts, granted it was not their best work...

A friend and I have already enjoyed Swan Lake by The Voronezh State Ballet Theatre of Russia, and will be attending Giselle preformed by the Metropolitan Ballet of St Paul a few weeks from now.

This spring brings in the refreshing naivety of a community theater production I have the joy of designing for. Grease of all musicals!

A summer in Spring Green will add three plays to the list...and that's not including the shows already open that I will have the opportunity to attend.

The National Theatre of London is broadcasting many of their gems this season as well...I had the pleasure of seeing Hamlet a few weeks back. King Lear is a mere week away. And two more jewels are on the horizon.

And no year is complete without a few concerts...Ozzy, Linkin Park already played to packed arenas. Dropkick Murphys and Flogging Molly will be here just in time to rile us up for St Patrick's day.

And these are only the plays, ballets and concerts we know of to date. We are blessed, truly blessed, to have access to such a broad spectrum of live performances. Art has endured incredibly difficult times as the economy ebbed and flowed...but we kept going. Largely due to the support of our audiences. These cities are THRIVING with creative energy...and more importantly, the support structure to keep it alive.

This is a good year.

Who needs a TV

I have not had regularly access to a TV for about 3 years now. And even then it was for just over a year at my first apartment in Hawaii.

And no, I do not miss it.

I especially do not miss it on huge TV time sucks like today...Superbowl Sunday. In today's world of Facebook and text messaging, I'm bound to hear all about the game...play by play...whether I want to know or not.

So no, I do not miss having a TV.

What I DO miss is the camaraderie that often surrounds a day like this. Yes the game may be what brings all over to one person's house. But in the end, I'm far more interested in spending the time with the people than watching overpaid meat heads slam into each other on the field, or listen to overzealous fans in a bar wish horrible deaths, injuries and accidents upon players, referees or rival fans. Maybe that's why I never got into football. Or any sport for that matter. I only ever seem to see the worst it brings out in people.

So today is not about the sport. Or the big game itself. Though I know of many, many people who will be glued to the screen in anticipation of the outcome. And probably chastise me for my lack of interest.

I'll be spending the time at a friend's house. AFTER Ross and I see a play. And while the friends will have the game on, most of us will have most of our attention elsewhere. The flicker in the background will undoubtedly provide some entertainment. Well, at least the commercials will.

So may your team win. I'm sure Facebook will let me know all of your joys or frustrations in a few hours. So I won't be too disappointed if I happen to miss that big play that seals the game's win.

Exit Pursued by a Bear

Winter's Tale. Oh what an awkward piece of work. Despite how well acted, directed and designed the production may be, I have yet to really be interested in this bipolar tale.

One half is riddle with unfounded jealousy, suspicion and tragedy in the regal court setting of Sicilia. And after one of the most famous stage directions in the theatre world we suddenly find our selves 16 years later in rural Bohemia, and apparently in the midst of a comedy and romance. An elopement brings us back to Sicilia where all parties are reconciled, identities revealed, and happy endings abound.

Two awkward tales thrust together by contrived coincidences, with a bear thrown in for the gory fun.

Perhaps I'm still not far enough removed from the show to appreciate the story. The last two weeks were a bear (pun intended) to get through. It was frustrating. I do not believe I produced my best work. And as a result I unfortunately found myself distracted by costume pieces that had been cut or added, things I had worked on shifted to different characters, actors wearing a rehearsal costume piece in lieu of the actual garment finished, labeled and given to wardrobe days ago, pieces I could have given just a little more attention to, had I had the time...

No, I suppose I could not truly be drawn in to the jealous drama or free-love comedy.

But the bear...oh the bear....

Usually I am of the party that the monster should be spoken of, but rarely scene. The imagination of the audience is likely to produce something far more terrifying than anything we can craft upon the stage. And often we don't need to see the action to learn of it. Shortly after the poor soul is chased off the stage, another character arrives to tell of a ship of the shore smashed beneath the waves and of the bear ripping out shoulder and feasting on flesh.

But all said and done...our bear was pretty impressive. We brought in a puppeteer to design and construct the beast specifically for this show. For this 30 second bit of stage action. In the end the realistic, monster of a bear was quite convincing.

Was it worth the hefty fee for such a short bit? For some directors, perhaps. In this case it worked. I over heard many audience members chittering about how well the bear was portrayed. And most of those with any previous knowledge of the play probably came filled with curiosity about how this one lone stage direction would be pulled off.

Was it worth the $6000 price tag for 30 seconds? Perhaps. Just perhaps it was.