inainte de concertele cu grupul sanitar, imi construisem un ritual de relaxare.
in ziua respectiva nu faceam nimic altceva, ma uitam la un film sau la concerte, citeam, pierdeam timpul cu gratie.
uneori ma duceam la un salon de masaj.
de citeva ori s-a nimerit sa merg cu o noapte inainte la cite-o petrecere si sa fiu mahmur. ceea ce imi accentua anxietatea. in vremea aceea mai aveam atacuri de panica si reactionam puternic la orice fel de stress. pe scena insa, avindu-i pe ceilalti doi linga mine si un scenariu de show, scapam de trac dupa prima piesa. desigur, ajuta si faptul ca nu cintam live.

cel mai greu a fost la lorgean theatre. desi eram in propria casa, faptul ca deschideam spectacolul ma termina. ma simteam responsabil de tot ceea ce avea sa urmeze. nu eram in stare sa comunic cu actorii, ma refugiam autist in dormitor. oricit as fi repetat (si nu aveam mai mult de 2 minute de introducere), momentul in care deschideam usile si vedeam chipurile atintite asupra mea, aflate la mai putin de un metru, era de fiecare data coplesitor.

apoi, tot facind workshop-uri din zona performance-ului, am inceput sa ma obisnuiesc cu expunerea.

la a doua aparitie de la miercurea lejera am fost extrem de anxios. ma intrebam ce naiba caut acolo, de ce vreau sa fac asta. atmosfera de dinainte e extrem de puternica, toata lumea e in miscare, vorbeste, isi cauta locul, se stabilesc parteneri, se repeta, unii renunta in ultima clipa sau se decid brusc sa faca ceva. de data asta, cind am ajuns pe scena m-am simtit confortabil si bucuros ca sint acolo si ca ma pot juca. ceea ce s-a si simtit.

miercuri, la “death metal is alive” n-am fost nici foarte emotionat, nici relaxat. mai degraba nevrotic. inainte avusesem intilnire/repetitie la alta piesa, ceea ce n-a fost ok, ca n-am mai putut intra intr-un alt flow.
a inceput si s-a terminat (abrupt) cu desincronizari tehnice si, undeva pe parcurs, m-am pierdut. spre deosebire de data trecuta, voiam sa termin cit mai repede. pentru ca n-am repetat inainte cu partener (performance-ul presupune un voluntar din public), n-am mai suprapus textul pe miscare si, dat fiind situatiile imprevizile, am sarit bucati din el, dupa ce deja il scurtasem ca sa potriveasca in 15 minute. pentru cei care fac asta de ani de zile, miercurea lejera este chiar un moment in care incearca lucruri si se raporteaza relaxat la ceea ce iese. desi nu prea mi-a placut ce a iesit, ma bucur ca am pe ce lucra de acum in colo.

1 The reader is a friend, not an adversary, not a spectator.

2 Fiction that isn’t an author’s personal adventure into the frightening or the unknown isn’t worth writing for anything but money.

3 Never use the word “then” as a ­conjunction – we have “and” for this purpose. Substituting “then” is the lazy or tone-deaf writer’s non-solution to the problem of too many “ands” on the page.

4 Write in the third person unless a ­really distinctive first-person voice ­offers itself irresistibly.

5 When information becomes free and universally accessible, voluminous research for a novel is devalued along with it.

6 The most purely autobiographical ­fiction requires pure invention. Nobody ever wrote a more auto­biographical story than “The Meta­morphosis”.

7 You see more sitting still than chasing after.

8 It’s doubtful that anyone with an internet connection at his workplace is writing good fiction.

9 Interesting verbs are seldom very interesting.

10 You have to love before you can be relentless.

miercuri, incepind cu ora 20

la miercurea lejera

1 Marry somebody you love and who thinks you being a writer’s a good idea.
2 Don’t have children.
3 Don’t read your reviews.
4 Don’t write reviews. (Your judgment’s always tainted.)
5 Don’t have arguments with your wife in the morning, or late at night.
6 Don’t drink and write at the same time.
7 Don’t write letters to the editor. (No one cares.)
8 Don’t wish ill on your colleagues.
9 Try to think of others’ good luck as encouragement to yourself.
10 Don’t take any shit if you can ­possibly help it.

1 Finish the day’s writing when you still want to continue.
2 Listen to what you have written. A dud rhythm in a passage of dialogue may show that you don’t yet understand the characters well enough to write in their voices.
3 Read Keats’s letters.
4 Reread, rewrite, reread, rewrite. If it still doesn’t work, throw it away. It’s a nice feeling, and you don’t want to be cluttered with the corpses of poems and stories which have everything in them except the life they need.
5 Learn poems by heart.
6 Join professional organisations which advance the collective rights of authors.
7 A problem with a piece of writing often clarifies itself if you go for a long walk.
8 If you fear that taking care of your children and household will damage your writing, think of JG Ballard.
9 Don’t worry about posterity – as Larkin (no sentimentalist) observed “What will survive of us is love”.

1. Noapte buna, blindul meu print – Pierre Charras
2. Cintec de leagan – Chuck Palahniuk
3. Between Theater and Anthropology – Richard Schechner
4. Catedrala – Raymond Carver

filme

1. Dark Horse (Dagur Kari, 2005)
2. The Hurt Locker (Kathlin Biggelow, 2009)
3. Tokyo! (Gondry, Joon ho-Bong, Leos Carax, 2008)
4. I Shot Andy Warhol (Mary Harron, 2006)
5. Tout Une Vie (Lelouch, 1974)
6. The Man Who Stare at Goats (Grant Heslow, 2009)
7. Persona (Bergman, 1966)
8. Sin Nombre (Cary Fukunaga, 2009)
9. You The Living (Du Levande) (Roy Andersson, 2007)
10. The Fountain (Aronofsky, 2006)
11. Mauvais Sang (Leos Carax, 1986)
12. Age of Consent (Michael Powell, 1969)
13. Drumul Pasarilor (Klara Trencsenyi & Vlad Naumescu, 2009) - doc
14. The Dirty Dozen (Robert Aldritch, 1967)
15. Aliosa (Meelis Muhu, 2008) – doc
16 Faces (Cassavetes)
17. Gandhi (Richard Attenborough, 1982)
18. Crocodile (Kim Ki-duk, 1996)
19. Up in the Air (Jason Reitman, 2009)

1 Do not place a photograph of your ­favourite author on your desk, especially if the author is one of the famous ones who committed suicide.

2 Do be kind to yourself. Fill pages as quickly as possible; double space, or write on every second line. Regard every new page as a small triumph ­–

3 Until you get to Page 50. Then calm down, and start worrying about the quality. Do feel anxiety – it’s the job.

4 Do give the work a name as quickly as possible. Own it, and see it. Dickens knew Bleak House was going to be called Bleak House before he started writing it. The rest must have been easy.

5 Do restrict your browsing to a few websites a day. Don’t go near the online bookies – unless it’s research.

6 Do keep a thesaurus, but in the shed at the back of the garden or behind the fridge, somewhere that demands travel or effort. Chances are the words that come into your head will do fine, eg “horse”, “ran”, “said”.

7 Do, occasionally, give in to temptation. Wash the kitchen floor, hang out the washing. It’s research.

8 Do change your mind. Good ideas are often murdered by better ones. I was working on a novel about a band called the Partitions. Then I decided to call them the Commitments.

9 Do not search amazon.co.uk for the book you haven’t written yet.

10 Do spend a few minutes a day working on the cover biog – “He divides his time between Kabul and Tierra del Fuego.” But then get back to work.

nici nu stii cind ti se face chef sa citesti!