March 2011 Books
Wherein I list the books and plays I completed in March.
Wherein I list the books and plays I completed in March.
Yee-hah!
Wherein I list what movies and tv shows I completed watching this month.
Last fall I decided that my next tattoo (my second) would be the Doctor Who logo from the fourth Doctor–my Doctor–the Tom Baker years. In part because I have spent 32 of my forty years watching the show and caring about the characters but also partly because the image of that logo ties directly into me at 8 being transported to different and wonderful worlds while being safe in my grandparent’s house watching the shows on New Hampshire public television on one of those big console tvs. The image is one that is inextricably connected to my childhood.
It is now part of my body.
So hi. It’s been a while. I’m not even feeling all that guilty because I’ve been, you know . . . busy with the PhD and all that. I promise I’ll write more starting in May. However, I’ve been trying to figure out a solution for writing scripts on my iPad without going through all …
"Amadeus: A Play by Peter Shaffer" (Peter Shaffer) "The Destiny of Me" (Larry Kramer, Tony Kushner (foreword)) "Dancing at Lughnasa: A Play" (Brian Friel) "The Sparrow" (Mary Doria Russell, Mary Doria Russell) "Plays. Five: Seven Lears" (Howard Barker) "Aunt Dan and Lemon (Wallace Shawn)" (Wallace Shawn) "Theatre, Communication, Critical Realism (What Is Theatre?)" (Tobin Nellhaus) …
Wherein I read a poem.
Pushing elevator buttons angrily does not make the elevators arrive more quickly.
I own 3 times as many hats (6) as I do jackets.
I have come perilously close to crossing the event horizon of Facebook and need to draw back and begin using my blogs more. For a number of reasons, but the primary one is that when I work on posts for LtL, I actually do some writing and thinking and analyzing instead of merely sharing links and “liking” things. I wonder if Facebook makes us less thoughtful even as we share more thoughts?
I wonder if simple joy can be a radical act. Sometimes I think so, sometimes not.