Ryan Performs in Places: Witches and Leaves

The forest smelt of spice and moisture settled on fallen leaves. The air filled with the murky dusk which settled like an ominous force upon the earth. All around were the noises of nature created a perfect harmony with the song which drifted on the evening wind. Drop, drop...a gentle rain cried upon the layer of mud and leaves, and over in the tallest tree sat a lone mourning dove whose throat gurgled in sadness. The birch trees showed their thick, white skins, radiating the reflected light from the cloudy atmosphere. In an act of surrender, the trees reached their branches to the sky. Along their bases drifted the misty lights of several fireflies in a vain attempt to illuminate the dusk.

From the darkness, the witches emerged to play. Their tiny feet pranced and trampled atop the matted forest floor, dancing between and around the trees, smacking the trunks with their calloused and withered hands. The slaps extended in the cold air to reverberate above the dark arms of the sky. It was a gathering, a nightly meeting consisting of numerous witches whose cries of joy and celebration filled the air. Their skin was several shades of green and brown, and they were covered in warts. Their grey hair flew up in fading locks around the brims of their pointed, crumpled black hats.

All at once, their singing grew into a chorus which shrieked over all the trees and the hillocks and the noises of the forest. Each yellowed smile of the witches joined into the jubilee, making the ruckus into a party. They danced closer to a dilapidated cabin which was overgrown in underbrush and forestation. It was very small, maybe no bigger than a closet or a doghouse, but it had a tiny window and a shingled roof which made it almost homey. The witches moved closer, sniffing the air and embracing the dusk. Each holding the hands of her nearest sister, the witches formed a circle around the cabin.

One of the hags stepped forward and grasped into the inner blackness of the cabin. With a grunt and wrench of her poor old arms, the witch pulled an enormous black cauldron from the depths of the cabin. Together, the witches brought the cauldron into a nearby clearing as the sky grew darker. One of the sisters bent down beneath the cauldron and exhaled upon the molding leaves upon the ground. Slowly the leaves dried and sparked so that the fire burned heavily to heat the cauldron.

As the firestarter stepped back in to the circle, another came forward placed her hands above the cauldron. A pool of green liquid began to form at the base of the cauldron, bubbling and boiling upwards until in was level with the brim. The witches cheered as the fireflies circled overhead, dancing and mingling the sparks from the fire so that they seemed one and the same. Bluish-green smoke rose of the hot liquid and curled to meet the tree branches. The witches were pleased with their work, and raised their arms in appreciation of the night, of life, and of creation. With a sweep of their arms, all of it disappeared. They vanished, and all that was left were the trees and the noises of the night.

Peace out!

Halloween Playlist

This year I am totally into the Halloween season. This October seems so incredibly creepy especially with the rainstorms and constant black clouds we've had in the sky. I've been smelling pumpkin spice and drinking hot apple cider for the past month, and I can't wait to unveil my Halloween costume this weekend. I've made this awesome Halloween playlist this year to get me even more into the mood. Enjoy:

"Helter Skelter" from Across the Universe
"Spoooky Mormon Hell Dream" from The Book of Mormon
"Bloody Mary" by Lady Gaga
"Cannibal" by Ke$ha
"The Woman's Dead" from Curtains the Musical
"Slipping" from Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog
"Bad Romance" by Lady Gaga
"Monster" by Lady Gaga
The whole soundtrack from Rocky Horror Picture Show
"Thriller/Heads Will Roll" from Glee
"Battlefield" from Cirque du Soleil's Ka
"Be Prepared" from The Lion King
"Prologue (Little Shop of Horrors)" from Little Shop of Horrors
"Run Like, Um...Hell?" from Lost
"Monsters Are Such Interesting People" from Lost
"El Tango de Roxanne" from Moulin Rouge
"I'm Alive" from Next to Normal
The whole soundtrack from The Phantom of the Opera
"Rude Boy" by Rihanna
"The Dark I Know Well" from Spring Awakening
The whole soundtrack from Sweeney Todd
"E.T." by Katy Perry
"Thriller" by Michael Jackson
The whole soundtrack from Wicked
"Disturbia" by Rihanna

Hope you have a rocking start to your Halloween. Be spooky, be kooky, and have fun!

Peace out!

It Took Ovaries

This is what I did this past weekend:

It was one of the most amazing performance experiences I've ever been a part of. On Friday, performance artist and co-playwright Bobbi Ausubel came to Royall Tyler Theatre to teach our Playing With Femininity class (seriously the best class ever---we just spend three hours reading plays about women and experimental theatre pieces while talking about sex, gender, and political issues) her physical technique of exploring character through improvisation, movement, and vocal work, not necessarily through sense memory and "The Method." She explained to us how emotions are held within our bodies, and the only way to act is to unleash these emotions through physical engagement. It was the most natural and invigorating way to act and explore character than I've ever learned. I loved it, and I want to use it in every acting work I do from now on.

Saturday night was the workshop performance. We performed the scenes from the play we had worked on and then Bobbi held a discussion of gender themes and what it means to live a bold lifestyle. She explained how change can only happen if we have the courage to stand up for injustice in our lives, in our society. The audience was amazing, and I had never felt such a connection with the audience before. It was all a shared experience just as gender discrimination and oppression is a shared experience every human being faces. Then in the nature of the play, Bobbi invited members of the audience to come up to the mic and share their stories, women for a time when they were bold, brazen, or courageous and for the men to talk about a woman in their life who had an ovaries moment. Some of the stories we got were funny, some were extremely emotional, some were inspirational, and some were a little awkward. I even got up and shared a story from high school. We created such a community in the theatre that night, and we had an amazing time celebrating women and a bold life.

"High School Gauntlet"

Bobbi Ausubel explaining the project.

I shared a story!

An emotional end to the scenes. "Rana"

For more information about the play That Takes Ovaries, Bobbi Ausubel, or how you can host an open mic, check out http://www.thattakesovaries.org/.

Peace out!

I Climbed This Jungle Gym Rope Spider Thing

Peace out!

Cough Cough Dead

There's a certain feeling that passes through and invades your body when you are about to get sick. It begins with a sort of cloudiness that fogs and darkens your vision like a thick storm unleashing a torrent of rain and lightning upon your brain. You can't focus, you can't think, and it seems like you could never get enough sleep. Along with this fogginess follows a nagging ache that creeps into every joint of your body and pries into your bones, making you shaky and weak, like every footfall is a great earthquake shaking your system. The pain lingers into your head as your sinuses slowly fill with mucous and snot, pressing against your brain and your face making each nerve under each tooth sting and every hair on your head to burn in agony. Beads of sweat pool on your blood-drained skin and soak into your clothes as your internal climate rises like a slow cooker for your internal organs.

All of these are hardcore warning signs of a cold, or a general sickness. Last week, I didn't feel ANY of these, but now this week I am stuck with this horrible cough, fevers, chills, antibiotics, and an annoying trip to the hospital where I'm asked question like:

"Are things okay at home?"

"Do you do drugs?"

...and, my favorite:

"Have you been around anyone with bedbugs recently?"

"YES! I'M LOUSY WITH BEDBUGS!! GIVE ME A BED!!!"

Someone tell me I'll get better soon...

Why is Ashley not looking at the camera? No one knows.

Rain

The sidewalk glistens in a malaise of oil and rainwater,
But at this point it doesn't matter.
The beat of the music in my head crawls to my shoes which skip through the puddles, scraping water from the
Ground while I swing the umbrella from side to side.
The heavenly ointment unleashes in torrents from the clouds,
Baptizing me in absolute happiness.
Each droplet on my face is a splash of joy.
Each step I take is a thought of you.
As the rain embraces me, I smile a curious and wide grin,
And drink up the tears of the sky.

Sense Memory

I love, love, LOVE the fall weather hitting Vermont right now. It's like a cold and clear breath of life that takes your heart in its grip and transports you to worlds of memories long forgotten yet still reminisced about. Upon each stinging breeze rides an image of crinkling leaves, the smell of apple cores and pumpkin spice, or the scratchy feel of a wool scarf on the skin. The chill which takes root in the feet and travels up each individual vertebrae to each follicle of hair holds a physical bond to day trips through an enchanted forest and afternoons spent on train tracks. The taste of dust and the feel of grit between teeth is a flash back to dirt roads and the hidden groves to which they lead.

Each memory dances with the senses in a waltz that began at birth. Each physical presence individually linked to an emotion draws me back yet pulls me forward at the same time. While I muse over the events and the feelings of the past, I am still pushed forward by a thirst for more. I long for more emotion, more feeling, more of the "breath life," for the essence that makes me utterly human. We long for the memories in life because that is what draws us forward, the longing and desire for future memories. We beg for new smells, feelings, and images that will give us retrospect to the events of our past and bring our lives in a circle.

Stepping from the front door, the fall's evening zephyr energizes my lungs and my body, propelling me forward into the sunset's lighted shadow. The leaves hanging stiffly from the trees' branches sway and crumple as they draw near to each other in anticipation of what is to come. Drawing my scarf closer to my throat, I walk along the broad sidewalk with heavy footfalls. The clouds above seem to sway lightly, taking in the moment below. I clutch my books to my chest and keep walking, observed and observing...