If my calculations are correct (and my use of the word “calculations” is perhaps overreaching since I’m talking about basic arithmetic, here; but in the age of newfangled technological devices like “calculators”, I’m fairly impressed with myself when I can count to ten without assistance), there are nine days remaining of 2009. Which means there will never again in my lifetime be double-aughts following the first digit of the year.

(or in anyone else’s lifetime, lessen someone figures out that whole immortality thing in the next 900 years without humanity extinguishing itself first, which I suppose someone very well may; a thousand years isn’t all that long, after all.)

For some reason, my brief encounter with double-aughts after the first digit of the year, and the end of this brief encounter, mean something to me.

It occurred to me a little too late to really consider exactly what it is that the double-aughts means to me, or why I might miss it, but I’ll speculate here, briefly, and then move on to discuss exactly what it is that had me wide awake four hours after drifting off, when I could have actually slept in today and gotten a full night’s sleep (whatever that means), had my body only permitted me to indulge.

So, a brief speculation on the Significance of the Double Aughts.

Hrm, well, from a purely aesthetic standpoint, there is a lovely symmetry in the two zeros between the first and fourth/final digits of the year; not only a symmetry, but a space, a breath, between the chaos of the years…

(okay, I’m enjoying totally overanalyzing this: I live for this shit!)

So, the two zeros in a sense hold the center, provide an anchor of serenity and space in an otherwise tumultuous world of concrete value and cold calculations -

The Double Aughts represent a sort of breathing space, the eye of the storm, an opportunity to write a stabilizing force, a  counterbalancing neutrality, into each day.

Now, we will no longer have that reassuring serenity and breathing space written into the code of each day.

Now, I suppose, we are fucked.

(I don’t really think we’re fucked, not any more than we usually are, at any rate, but it seemed like a nice, snappy way to end my Speculation on the Significance of the Double Aughts.)

And now I believe I had told myself I was going to arrive at the thoughts that had me awake earlier than I intended this morning (nothing particularly exciting or revelatory, so please don’t get your hopes up) -

Well, since I spent so long on an unanticipated bloggery detour (the speculation on the significance of the Double Aughts), I will make this next bit very brief:

I have been thinking of late of two themes, possibly titles, for a series of work — could be two series of work, or they could combine into a single series. And by “series” I mean a series of scenes, or short pieces, or maybe just a single play. I really don’t know, only that I’ve been mulling over it for quite a while now, and found myself thinking about it of late.

The two themes are: 1. catalog of Failure; and, 2. the excavation series.

I use “failure” not in a pessimistic way, but I find instances of failure so much more interesting than instances of success; I find I generally learn more from failing than from succeeding (using the words “failure” and “success” in the fairly traditional, obvious sense; not the “oh I thought this thing was a failure, but in reality it was a success because x,y and z happened as a result”), and failure also makes for some funny shit. Also, Failure tends to make a Human that much more relatable. Not that I’m anti-success: go success, it’s awesome. But I’m talking, here, about ideas for something I’m working on. This is nothing new, I’m just thinking about it – perhaps I’m drawn a bit too much to silver linings, here, I don’t know. We’ll see.

The Excavation Series is something that could be entirely different or could be, as I said, part of the same thing. In any case, these are two ideas I’m tossing around, as the final days of 2009 continue apace.

And I suppose, before the year is out, I will do some end-of-year accounting, & take stock, & express bewilderment, and gratitude, and pissed-offedness, and all sorts of things, to properly review the last year from my own, Totally Self Absorbed Perspective (TSAP).

i just posted this (below) to facebook; i think it is the longest update i have ever posted, and now, having done so, i feel a bit ashamed & overexposed, and wonder why i felt compelled to share trivial bullshit over the interwebs. so i thought i’d make the most out of said feelings of shame & overexposure by sharing the post here, as well. more on that below, but first, the back-to-back update (which will be seen here as a single post, which isn’t really accurate):

en route to sf, 35,000 feet in the air or so, enjoying (enjoying?) free wifi. i have already received an email informing me that this free session is valued at up to $12.95. a few more months, i suppose, and this whole living-in-the-future thing won’t seem nearly as impressive; i might as well indulge the totally unmerited awe while it lasts.

(i am also impressed by being able to order coffee from the touch screen in front of me, although i feel rude taking advantage of this feature; i do it, anyway, though, since coffee is important to me right now.)

ah, it’s fun to quote myself, unnecessarily.

what did i say i’d say more of, now? ah, yes, i was going to elaborate on my decision to make the most out of my feelings of shame & overexposure by further shaming & overexposing myself in the rambles here. but now that i’ve reached this point in the rambles, i no longer feel like elaborating.

instead, i will mention that the passenger seated next to me, who was stoking the nearly-nonexistent flames of my Kindle envy earlier, is now involved in what appears to be a very intense anagramming session with the plane’s in-flight entertainment system. i am quite fond of my fellow passenger; earlier she ordered a reuben sandwich on marble rye, which came with a mini-toblerone bar. overall, she seems to be enjoying the shit out of Flight 11.

I am now on the verge of being a fully matriculated graduate student – mere hours away from registering for my fall semeseter  – so I thought I would take a moment now to summarize, for myself, the last seven weeks since The Journey concluded.

So, in a half-hearted effort to take stock before the next thing, I am going to bullet-point certain Events that have transpired, in no particular order (please to note: the term “event” is used here quite loosely; anything, even me purchasing a toothbrush, for instance, could be classified as an “event”).

NYC: July 12 – August 14, 2009:

• toothbrush purchased (I wouldn’t have written that, but for my parenthetical above. And now, the bar has been set, super low! anything will seem significant, from here on out.).
• IKEA bed purchased & constructed in new apartment.
• first NYC LP takes place.
• 2nd & 3rd NYC LP take place (at this point, I suppose, not such a big deal).
• Very Secret Project Of Which We Cannot Yet Speak develops, excitingly. Many videos related to said project are uploaded to youtube, which the gentle reader is not privy to, as the videos are set to private.
• french press is purchased; many morning coffees are made.
• a sibling is married, quietly, but quite movingly, in Kent, Connecticut. Blurry photos are taken by witnessing sister; but some infocus ones, as well.
• pictures are framed and hung.
• a flash fiction reading takes place.
• a new guitar song is composed.
• sunlight is appreciated, as are warm summer nights.
• the highline is visited, and raved over.
• the brooklyn bridge is walked, a few times; it doesn’t disappoint, as per usual.
• patacones are consumed in Inwood. fucking delicious.
• Fun Summer Activities in NYC, like free concerts in Prospect Park and Summer Stage, are attended & enjoyed. Also, sleeping in. Also, taking pictures of car, to be sold, sadly, in the coming weeks.
• rehearsals for Lydia’s Funeral Video take place, as does a runthrough with a mini-audience in my friend’s living room.
• Passengers board, and plane takes off without crashing.

SF: 8/14 – 8/27, 2009:

• Plane lands without crashing, and passengers disembark.
• Karaoke is sung for a friend’s going away party; Great Joy ensues.
• LP private & public take place.
• Pho is consumed, and enjoyed: O, Savory Exquisite Broth Most Wondrous.
• Lydia rehearsals take place, solitarily.
• Bold Formatting is used, at random.
• Very Secret Project Of Which We Cannot Yet Speak proceeds, with mounting excitement. Still, nothing yet can be specified or described.
• Kalbi is consumed, with friends, followed by a living room concert featuring the lead singer of a Great Band of the Pacific Northwest.
• bold formatting falls out of regular use, due to distaste of writer.
• Rounds of self-promotional emails/facebook messages/status updates/twitter posts are dutifully sent out, to sender’s distaste, resulting in feelings of overexposure and self-loathing. Still, words of support & encouragement received all around.
• Lydia’s Funeral Video is presented & performed as workshop production as part of Marsh Rising series; turnout is great, and writer/performer feels gratified & grateful for supportive peoples in her life. Also, show is fun to perform.
• More karaoke takes place; thoughts about the future loom.
• Segments for Local Comcast Show are filmed; many an awkward moment ensues.
• Boxes fail to be shipped.
• Plane takes off and lands without crashing.

NY: 8/27 – 9/1, 2009:

• Another going away party happens; wtf with all the people going away? many Doctors & Other Professionals are met.
• A grandmother is visited.
• A nephew whose arrival is imminent allows one of his aunts to feel his kick/stretch for the first time; aunt is duly impressed.
• Laundry is done.
• Class registration is planned.
• Flu-like symptoms are reclassified as allergy symptoms.
• A job is applied to.
• Preparations for the next LP in Williamsburg are considered.
• A vaguely meaningless, yet infinitely profound, blog post is composed.

(email announcement sent out to list, and posted here for your perusing pleasure.)

hey all,

my workshop production of Lydia’s Funeral Video at The Marsh is just two weeks away, on Wed, August 26th ! advance tickets make everyone happy, and getting advance tickets will earn you Magical Gold Money*! you can purchase tickets by clicking here: http://bit.ly/12UPJ4

(you can tell i care about this email because i’m making exciting and somewhat unnecessary formatting choices!)

i have been rehearsing the show in the 90+ degree heat & humidity of NYC, so by the time it makes it to the bay it’ll be hella tough & shit. but it’ll still have that SF integrity to cut the edge.

(i think i already mentioned that advance tickets make everyone happy & will earn you Magical Gold Money*! but i care so much about that point i’m repeating it, and possibly alienating you! [hey, sometimes risks must be taken.] you can purchase them by clicking here: http://bit.ly/12UPJ4 )

there are also other things upcoming. see below. and thanks for reading.

1. WED, AUG 26th; 7.30pm (please note untraditional start time!)
Lydia’s Funeral Video, written & performed by samantha chanse, at The Marsh
1062 valencia street, between 21st & 22nd sts, san francisco. $10-15.
tickets: http://bit.ly/12UPJ4
or, more info: http://www.LydiasFuneralVideo.com
one night only! if you go to one of my shows for the rest of the year, please go to this one; if it does well, it will be given further consideration for a full production at the marsh. which would be quite lovely. unless you’re a hater.

(special note! after performance at the marsh, i will be heading over to Du Nord to see Goh Nakamura & Odessa Chen – a splendid evening, indeed.)

2. THURS, AUG 20th; 7 – 10pm (please note this event takes place before the event above…)
Laundry Party Public at KSW/PariSoma
1436 Howard St, bet 10th & 11th sts, san francisco. free.
so far, Very Exciting Multidisciplinary Line-Up includes Shailja Patel, Sadie Contini, Matthew Clark Davison, Claire Light, Derek Chung, Cathlin Goulding, The Matinees, Samantha Chanse; & there will be others.
info: http://samanthachanse.com/calendar/index.php?op=view&id=307

(special note about LP! Laundry Party is now bicoastal! we have had three nyc LPs in the last month, so we expect there to be an LP Public in nyc soon, too; stay tuned. or not, your choice.)

3. i’ll be participating in a KSW Litcrawl event in October, and performing my solo show Back to the Graveyard in November. also, another !secret project! is in the works, but more on that later. (the brief & unsatisfying mention of the !secret project! is to build suspense and shit. i don’t know if it’s working or not, but it amuses me to try my hand at email-based suspense-building.) all the info of stuffs is at http://www.samanthachanse.com.

thanks for reading,

sam

(*not really, sorry. i was just experimenting with False But Exciting-Sounding Incentives. pissed off by the lies? send me hate mail.)

what i just sent out to list:

okay, i’m not actually going to write much now, but just to say:

sunday, june 12th, DC Sita & i arrived in nyc. my filmmaking screenwriting friend Tom was kind enough to meet us to unload the car around 2.30pm, and after many a trip from the car to the third floor, carrying many a heavy box and/or bag, we treated ourselves to drinks & food at The Heights on broadway and 112th/111th.

other things happened; the next day, DC Sita & i had dim sum with my sister & co. at the unfortunately named but delicious restaurant Oriental Garden, on Elizabeth Street, and then had a walk over the peerless Brooklyn Bridge. later, we headed over to our friend & amazing-intimidating human Derek’s place in Williamsburg for Laundry Party #13 (yay). which went over quite well.

all in all, a fine first 24-hours in new york. The Journey is concluded, but not the discussion of The Journey, since i feel i’ve a bit more to ramble about. in any case, that is all for now. the weather here is perfect, and i’m quite content in my little bedroom surrounded by boxes, but feeling i’ve got a sense for the configuration of things.

(also written july 11th, posted july 15/16th)

there are hundreds of blueberries to be picked at my grandmother’s house; this task is a daunting one, because DC Sita & i will, ultimately, fail; there are simply far too many. still, at a later point in the day today (this post is also being written saturday, july 11th, but there is no internets on Ye Olde Farme House, so tomorrow will have to do), we finally throw ourselves at the blueberry bushes, pails in hand.

okay, we didn’t actually have pails; DC Sita had an old plastic container from something long forgotten, and i had a glass bowl, but the word “pails” feels so much more lyrical & befitting of the situation.

we ate many a blueberry, and are now hella antioxidated. that means i can flood my body with toxins again, because i’m practically immortal now.

earlier this morning, i ran down a few miles of Lancaster County road to my mother’s old high school, and spotted some raspberries. berries are everywhere, i tell you; everywhere.

i also spotted tons of poison ivy, which means that Evil abounds. i know i already used that joke in a recent post, except guess what, it’s not a joke. poison ivy is not a joke. it is a terrible, terrible crime against humanity. it deserves to be taken out back and shot, and buried in a mass grave (yeah i know mass graves aren’t funny, fuck you). urushiol oil, that which endows poison ivy, poison oak, and poison sumac with their Evil-incarnate Powers, should never have been invented by God. it serves absolutely no purpose, except possibly that whole CO2 into 02 conversion thing; and we could always just have more clover or grass or something to handle that.

tomorrow: NYC: The Journey Concludes.

[there was no internet-access june 10 - 12, and june 12 DC Sita and i arrived in nyc, to a whirlwind of car-unloading activity. so, finally, uploading old posts written a few days ago. there will be a couple of these...]

(written saturday, june 11th.)

(writing in an internet-less world; outside it’s thunderstorming heavily, the first thunderstorm of The Journey. DC Sita doesn’t remember her last thunderstorm, and suspects that whenever it was, it was out of the country; mine was last summer, when i was in nyc.)

(as i wrote the first parenthetical, the thunderstorm, as if to openly mock me, abated noticeably. what the fuck, thunderstorm? you’re making me lose face and shit.)

(also, as i’m writing this, DC Sita is flipping through a Pennsylvania Dutch cookbook, which she purchased today at Horning’s Market, an Amish-run store. we are now in Pennsylvania Dutch country, which happens to also be Amish Country, and i suggested she get the cookbook so she could make shit like Scrappel and Jelly Veal Loaf for her friends. look out for Sita’s next dinner invitation, food lovers!)

(if you’re wondering why we are here, in the village of Reistville, which is near the town of Myerstown, which is near another town called Bethel, which is also the name and destination of an exit off the I-78 and about thirty miles or so from Harrisburg, we are here because my grandmother, who is Pennsylvania Dutch, lives here, as she has for over eight decades.)

quite miraculously (if you’re easily impressed, as i am), DC & i actually left Chicago yesterday three hours earlier than our usual departure time of 11am-ish. yes, we were out the door and on our way at 8am, navigating the nearly nonexistent rush hour traffic (no offense, Chicago – i’m sure you’ve got it in you. i mean, it’s great that you don’t have a real rush hour traffic. even if it’s because you’ve lost so many jobs that a number of people no longer have a reason to leave their homes between 6 and 8.30 in the morning, thereby fucking up the roadways with their profit-yielding lifestyles. yay, economic hard times: clearing the freeways & turnpikes for ne’er-do-wells with nothing to do but pack their shit into a car and drive decadently across the country – fucking assholes [the ne'er-do-wells, not the people-who-lost-their-jobs, and not the weird Chicago Entity i've been addressing])

(no, i don’t think people losing their jobs is something to laugh off; this was more of a “hey, the world’s totally fucked sometimes, isn’t it? yes, it is. glad we share that understanding and can laugh about it. so please get over your righteous anger, yes? i mean, i know your heart’s in the right place, but perhaps not your sense of irony? or perhaps you are assuming i’m retarded? not that you would ever use that particular word, because that would be fucked up, but you know what i mean? or, because i’ve now gone on for so long about this, i’ve lost you? good. you sure? okay. let’s move on then.)

whoa. where the fuck was i?

oh yeah. okay, we drove for thirteen hours, pretty much without incident. although at one point i noticed we were burning through gas a lot more quickly than we should have been – starting getting more like 15 mpg than 30ish, and that was alarming. but when we filled up next, the problem resolved itself so, i dunno – crappy gasoline station added water to their gasoline? really, really poor performance fuel?

oh, and we also saw a truck flipped over on its side, after a tunnel in pennsylvania. we hope the driver was okay.

we arrived at my grandmother’s farm at 9pm, just in time to catch some fireflies.

and now i’ve so exhausted myself with parentheticals that i feel it’s time to start a new post.

the thunderstorms have picked up again, along with the occasional torrential downpour, leading DC & i to conclude that we should just stay in for the night. so, this particular post shan’t get posted ’till tomorrow; not that it makes any difference to the Gentle Reader.

saw this on tv just now, local station – this cemetary scam’s been unfolding (for lack of a better word) since we arrived in chicago, and i hadn’t been paying enough attention; this morning news broke about Emmett Till’s body.

from an article in today’s Chicago Sun-Times by Mary Mitchell:

Broken. Rusted. Battered. The image of a glass-covered casket with the body of Emmett Till was shown around the world in the 1950s. But on Thursday, as hundreds of African Americans searched frantically for the graves of love ones, the battered casket of Till was rusting in the back of a shack at Burr Oak Cemetery in Alsip.

The casket was surrounded by garbage and discarded headstones strewn about like litter.

Full article here:

http://www.suntimes.com/news/mitchell/1660395,CST-NWS-mitch10.article

Alsip’s about half an hour south of Chicago.

fucked up.

getting on road now.

(yesterday/day 6 deserves more than a parenthetical, as DC & i encountered our first heavy Rain While Driving, and arrived in the Humboldt Park neighborhood of Chicago around 9pm, when we met our gracious hosts. we were treated to dinner in chinatown, followed by a brief tour of the city highlighting the most egregious examples/displays of gentrification (including a brand new third Hugest Wholefoods Ever, seriously), and the now ubiquitous presence of condos… but, sadly, a parenthetical will have to do. perhaps more another time.)

day 7 was heavy on chicago doings – a bit more urban adventuring than DC & i had done up to this point.

started out with some exploration of Humboldt Park, which is a really beautiful green space just a block from our Gracious Hosts’ home, and has a lake/lagoon, bird/flower conservatory (or something of this nature), rose garden, fishing sites, and, uh, a lot more. including its very own active national guard post. i loved this park (not because of the national guard post, by the way); wish i could have spent more time with it.

after a leisurely coffee/breakfast experience (fried eggs & homemade banana bread – i’ve eaten way too well on the Journey, and am now ruined for the rest of the year, when i will have to fend for myself), DC & i headed over to the Michigan Avenue bridge, & Wacker Ave, where we signed ourselves up for a boating architecture tour run by the Chicago Architecture Foundation.  i finally learned what art deco meant/looks like (and, look, aside from remembering that it stresses verticality and incorporates some kind of horizontal something or other, i’ve forgotten what it means/looks like already! uh, also something about the armchair versus wedding cake style. but i took notes, which aren’t with me as i’m typing this, so i’m sure once i re-glance at them i’ll retain more than i think. i hope). it was a beautiful day, sun shining, breeze blowing, water sparkling, so it’s kind of hard to complain – wonderful tour of the city, even if the tour guide  left out a lot of the more reality-based information received on our tour from the night before, but it’s CAF’s job to make Chicago look good, so i understand if they’re not really gonna go into detail about the surge in/consequences of condos-construction/development… i took some pretty pictures, which you can see here (okay, not yet). you can google image chicago, and you’ll get the basic idea; my photos have nothing to offer but blurriness & the associated suggestion of border-crossings & such.

after our decadent ninety minutes on the river, we headed over to the Museum of Contemporary Art, which had what i found to be a life-enriching (no irony! no irony! i left the museum feeling like a Better Human) Olafur Eliasson exhibit, Take Your Time. there were a number of installations and sculpture and photographs from the early ’90s to more recent years, including my favorites: beauty (1993 – an installation of a fine mist with a spotlight on it, it’s the exhibit’s cover image) and a room for one color or a room for all colors (again, notes not with me. so, live with the ambiguity, a theme that was actually discussed in a video interview, more discussion of discussion coming up shortly). i also watched an edited video interview with eliasson, in the educational center of MCA, conveniently located near the restrooms. i’m hoping i can find this interview online, somewhere (the museum folks weren’t sure if it or a transcript were available somewhere), but he talked a lot about some themes that resonate – how it’s good that there are places where doubt exists, and where you can experience “the friction of uncertainty” (maybe i shouldn’t direct quote that; i’m not certain those are the exact words), and some other concepts along these lines – damn, need those notes.

i also appreciated, during the interview, the following totally paraphrased exchange:

interviewer (probably the/a curator?): A lot of people are talking about the definition of contemporary art – what is contemporary art, what isn’t, what it means – what is contemporary art?

eliasson: (sighing heavily, removing his glasses a bit to rub his eyes, as if weary of the question [look at me totally unfairly characterizing his gestures], and finally, after a pause) luckily, i’m an artist, so i’m not focused on categorizing art; i’m more occupied with de-categorizing art. i’m not a curator or a collector, so i’m in the business of de-categorizing art…

(terrible paraphrase! he was way cooler & more eloquent when he said whatever it was he said. i will be looking for a transcript of this interview somewhere…imagine what i paraphrased, but much sharper, and more incisive (& less redundant), and with awesome shiny metallic glasses frames.)

okay – more on that later, perhaps – on to the third part of Cultural Edification in Chicago -

DC Sita & i were considering checking out Second City’s mainstage production, America All Better. it was sold out, but we arrived right in time to sign up for the first two spots on the wait list, and managed to make it in. basic premise of the show, which is sketch, is that everyone’s hopes and spirits are up because Obama was elected, but the world still sucks in many ways (i.e. healthcare, the economy, the war, etc). while somehow that premise already feels old, they did a great job of it, even with (what i think was) an all-white cast save the one black dude.  the first half included much belly-laugh hilarity (with lines like “we should have exposed him to the molesters; toughen him up a bit” [said by one parent to another, after their thirty-five year old son moved back in after losing his job and his condo]). also, a lot of smart takes on race in america – i mean Race in America – even if many of said takes feel overdone. except i don’t think they’re overdone in mainstream stuffs, so maybe i’m just impressed that this kind of relatively sophisticated humor took place at Second City. or maybe i’m just being a patronizing asshole.  yeah, that, probably; i am, sometimes.

second half was different; it seemed the writers were relying on the audience being deeply intoxicated by the second half, and shitty jokes/half-baked concept sketches would pass for comic genius. which, amazingly, they kind of did, for much of the 300+ house. sadly, however, DC Sita & i were not drinking, so there was much staring to be had. still, some bright moments here and there, and i appreciated (if i go into detail, it will be a later post; i’m just doing this now so i can feel Accomplished, and because i don’t think i’ll have much internet access in Reistville, PA, our next stop).

third set was all improv, and was a bit painful, in spite of the obvious skill & talents of the performers.

lesson being: sometimes improv sucks.

but overall: a very fine time in chicago. afterwards we spent some hours with our hosts, who have many stories to tell. none of which i will divulge at present time; you’ll just have to deal with the unbearable suspense.

sleep now, as DC & i have a twelve-hour or more drive tomorrow. if all goes according to plan, we should be among the Amish & the cows by nightfall.