by Irene
Dear Helen,
Your recent posting abundance has inspired me to post too. Problem? Have no idea what to write about.
This has been my first weekend without visitors in I think two months. On Friday evening I went to Niv's art show opening at Giant Robot. It's a rather small gallery in Cole Valley, which had what seemed like a gazillion people come to see the art work the first night. It was art work inspried by video games, and showcased probably about 15 artists' work, Niv's, among them. Brindha came all the way from Stanford, and another friend from high school who now lives in SF was there too. His college friends. And then seriously a million of other people (who all sorta look the same -- bearded, drinking beer, wearing hats, smoking). Afterwards a couple of us got drinks at a nearby bar. Oh, and before that, Vanya and I tried EOS, a small plates wine bar, which quite delicious food (where, if you're on the poorer side, it helps to not go too hungry). Learned that a "flight" means trying a bunch of different wines. Was recommended to go there by running into one of the actrices from the theater I volunteer at, who apparently lives in that neighborhood. She was on her way to the theater for that night's performance.
Anyhow, Saturday ended up being a super mellow day. I don't even necessarily remember what I did, except for volunteering at the theater. Basically, I am a stage manager, which means that I set up the props and the stage and make sure the actors are in their places before the show starts, and during intermission I move stuff around the stage and again, make sure the actors are in their places. The backstage is underneath the stage and it is usually a good 10 degrees colder than the box office area. So I bring my ski jacket. There, I started reading Angels in America by Tony Kushner. It's a really intense play about HIV and the 80s and politics. Backstage there are a million plays and the actors sit around talking or practicing lines before they climb super rickety stairs to get to the stage. There is a heater, an iron, and a water boiler, which, if you turn them all on at the same, causes a power outage. There are two racks of costumes from previous performances, there are worn leather couches and props from shows probably back in the 90s. After this play is over, they'll be showing A Streetcar Named Desire.
Volunteering at the theater was interesting for the first couple of weeks, but now I'm quite over it. Unfortunately, it's much more like a second job two days a week than something interesting and creative. I realize now that I need a creative outlet as a compliment to my job. I will probably not volunteer there more, or, if I do, it'd be to help paint something or think of props. Also, working back stage sorta takes the magic away for me. I like being on the outside of the performanc, behind the "third wall" as I think it's called. Or the "curtain" that divides the audience from the actors. Knowing all the props and what the other actors are doing while the commotion happens on the stage....I don't know, it removes what helps you otherwise watch the play and get involved in that story. And I really like that feeling. That's why I go to theater. To be removed from my life, and examine or think about or feel something completely different, which, inevitably, in the end, I somehow translate back into my life or how I perceive something in my life.
Today I went back to Berkeley to meet up with Niv and his friends for brunch. It was interesting to be in Berkeley on a Sunday afternoon. Haven't been there for a long time at that hour. Going back to Berkeley is really pleasant. It's become like coming home, for me. I know all the little stores and restaurants. I know the streets. I know where to get anything I might need. I know all the bars and things to do or where to find out about them. I know the campus -- I feel utterly at home in Berkeley. This feeling of comfort and a sort of ease of mind in Berkeley reminds me of how little I know San Francisco, and how I absolutely do not feel at home here. It is new and exciting, but it's also big, and strange, and foreign, and I haven't figured it out yet.
Getting to know a larger place of course also takes a lot longer. Berkeley is tiny in comparison to SF, and I was there for 4 years. There's a publication I started looking at called 7x7, which lists interesting things happening in the city, from best new restaurants to try to arty things to new movies to even weddings. There's seriously a tab on weddings.
Additionally, I'm reading an incredibily good book by Junot Diaz, called The Brief Wondrous Life of OScar Wao. It is fantastic. Diaz has a way to write that it gets under your skin, so that you sorta smell the characters and what they're going through. Unlike a lot of books that you observe from the outside, this book swallows you and all of a sudden you're inside the world of the characters. You're still observing from a distance, but you're inside the book. I'm going to use a Harry Potter reference here - so, sometimes, it's like you're standing outside the Pensieve looking into the memory (typical books) and then you dive into the Pensieve and you're part of the dream but you're invisible to the other characters (this book).
