A Broken Nose

Prereading note: There’s mentions of injury and blood, so if you don’t want to read about that, avoid today.

Draft 1

As some of you know, I’m somewhat¹ non-risk-averse.² And, that often results in some fun stories.

My favorite stories are probably: the time I scalped myself,³ the time I set my hair on fire,⁴ the time I bled through fiberglass,⁵ and the time that I found out that all of the not brown⁶ in my eye can fall to the bottom if I hit my eye correctly. Today, I get to have a new one! The time I broke my nose.

All things considered, it’s somewhat surprising to me that I’ve never broken it before. But, I was learning new skills today, and then misinterpreted a direction. I was on my hands, trying to learn a handstand forward roll, when I heard “go into a ball”. Now, I normally just pull my legs to my chest when I’m supposed to do that, so I did.

As you might expect, that threw me off balance. My knee came crashing down, and I heard a crunch. There was a lot of blood coming out.

But, small blessings still exist. I didn’t get any other injuries. Because of how I fell, my nose didn’t get bent out of place. I was surrounded by friends who helped me mop up the blood and start recovery.

But, I can now report on what a broken nose feels like.⁷ It felt almost entirely like an ice cream headache. My nose still hurts to touch, but that’s fine. Up at the bridge, it was really slidy, and I could move it from side to side and up and down.⁸ Here’s hoping it heals well!

What’s a Day?

Draft 1

The concept of a day is an interesting one. Should it be based on sunrise, sunset, midnight, noon or sleep? Until today, I was operating under the idea of midnight, since that’s what the law says. Today, since I forgot about time, I’m using the idea of sleep cycles. So, this.

Diving!

I dove for the first time in London today, and it was great. I forgot how much I love diving. After my second dive, the coach said “wow you look really happy up there.” Sorry this is so abrupt, but my legs hurt from pole dancing,¹ and I’m tired. Can’t wait to be diving with the team again though.

Class Day Two

Today, I had the second day of my class. It went much better than the first. At one point, someone else was unsure of what functional groups was on the molecule, and I made a new friend by telling him.¹ I feel much more like I belong.

But, the whole experience made me realize some things. For as quickly as I got over it, there was a non-zero amount of time where I seriously considered dropping the class, and finding something else to take instead. If I, a stereotypically normal STEAM² person, who never feels out of place in STEAM classes, or really any classes at my home school,³ felt out of place because I didn’t know something, how much worse must it be for people who come in already feeling like they don’t belong?

I don’t know, and I’m pretending that my experience with this is comparable to those who are from traditionally underrepresented groups. Instead, this really showcased for me the importance of the different outreach programs that exist to encourage these groups to continue with STEAM.

But, before I ramble on too much, I did really enjoy this class. I’m really excited to learn about polymers, and I hope that I’ll be able to take some of the knowledge back with me.⁴

Dance Nation Essay

Prereading Note: This is being written for a class, and began as an adaptation from this post. Each draft will also end with a word count, as there is a requirement there.

Draft 6

Love, loss, dance, and werewolves all feature prominently in Clare Barron’s Dance Nation at the Almeida Theatre, which follows a children’s dance squad as they prepare for national tournaments. The show places a large emphasis on the sexualization and sexuality of young women, as well as their adolescence. Recommended for ages 16 and over, the show artfully weaves the lives of adults into their childhood recollections, creating a layered effect that both alienates and invites the audience.

Clearly, this dichotomy of alienation and invitation was a goal of both Barron and Director Bijan Sheibani, as every aspect of the show pushes the audience into this. From the cast’s age, to Samal Blak’s set design, to Lee Curran’s lighting, the show leaves the audience in a constant state of confusion of time, space, and location.

The show begins with a blank set, and so the review follows. Before the show, the crowd sees a curtain lit to the nebulous phase between translucence and transparency. A mirrored wall behind can barely be made out, with lights running up the seams. As the show opens, the curtain drops, never to be seen again. Mirrors make up the entirety of the back wall, with lights strung between each. Throughout the show, these mirrors put the audience on stage, forcing them to see and therefore confront themselves in the scenes to follow.

These mirrored panels turn and twist about throughout the show, changing first into the black glitter of a dance backdrop. Blak is not content to merely use the panels as typical dance decoration, however, and later turns them into doors, a wolf head, a flowered field, and even a bathroom stall.

Blak artfully uses the panels as their own set of dichotomies: they serve as both entrances and exits, both bridging and breaking points between scenes, and as a way to both demarcate and join different sections of the stage.

In addition to the dichotomy of welcome and disaffection towards the audience, Blak plays with the dichotomy of set and prop. Throughout the show, actors bring in the set pieces and props, which are pushed to the side, rather than being removed from the stage. The stage begins to feel more and more cramped as the wings fill, and it’s clear that the dancers feel the same way. Dance is slowly consuming their identities, and it’s up to them to decide how to deal with it. Curran’s lighting artfully weaves into Blak’s set. Every recurring source of lighting is used at different times to conversely bring the audience in or push them away. The most striking of these recurring lights is the portrait of the moon. The moon is used to both draw the audience into the story of Irfan Shamji’s Luke, but also to push them away during the “girls”’ rebellion dance.

As a final note about the set, all along the walls of the stage are trophies from dancers past. Brendan Cowell’s Dance Teacher Pat chooses to use these trophies to symbolize the show’s meaning of success. Not only does Cowell point out the one year with no trophy by saying no one remembers those dancers, he then mentions the next year, where a dancer was recruited to become a professional. One of the panels turns and shows us a shrine dedicated to the dancer, another of Blak’s masterful uses of the panels. All of the dancers begin paying homage to the dancer. This is the first of many times throughout the show that the cast speak about how winning (here becoming noticed and recruited) is the only important aspect of dance.

To quote a common sports saying, “winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing.” What the show quietly but insistently points out, however, is that there is a constant culling in this mindset. Despite being a championship team, no one remembers the rest of the star’s team. Slowly but surely, in memory and in action, the weak are culled. Only the strong remain.

In the first scene, Miranda Foster’s Vanessa gets injured and is never heard from again. Near the end of the show, another dancer makes a mistake and quits dance forever as a result. These actions, along with monologues, showcase a dangerous aspect of not only children’s athletics, but also of society. Weakness and failure are not used as opportunities for growth, but rather as signs of inherent deficiency. And, since the weak get culled, any mistake means you no longer belong. But of course, weakness is not only physical. When Shamji’s character tells us about his nostalgia for car rides home with his mother, we never again are given the chance to view him as anything but a surface for the other actors to push ideas off of.counterpoint for other characters.

In addition to the theme of growth, both physical and emotional, Barron adds a message about a woman’s role. As the show culminates, Karla Crome’s Amina is placed in the unenviable position of choosing between the sport she loves and the people she loves. She is vilified for making the choice that lauded and celebrated men make in other theatrical shows. Here, Barron finally outright states a woman’s role: women are expected to exist solely for the benefit of those around them. The show had alluded to this before, with mentions of the actors bonding over shared trauma, where their growth comes from helping each other.

However, beautiful lights and sights, touching messages, and heartfelt acting isn’t the measure of a successful show. There were countless times during the show where I felt myself forgetting that I was in a crowd, watching a group of grown adults acting as prepubescent children, and instead saw myself as a spectator at these competitions, or a person watching some children as they grow and learn. The separation from life, if only for a few moments, is truly what makes a show worth seeing. The Almeida’s staging of Dance Nation certainly suspended me in time.

Draft 5

Clare Barron’s Dance Nation at the Almeida Theatre follows a dance squad of ten to twelve year olds as they prepare for national tournaments. The show places a large emphasis on the sexualization and sexuality of young women, as well as their adolescence. Recommended for ages 16 and over, the show artfully weaves the lives of adults into their childhood recollections, creating a layered effect that both alienates and invites the audience.

Clearly, this dichotomy of alienation and invitation was a goal of Director Bijan Sheibani, as every aspect of the show pushes the audience into this. From the cast’s age, to Samal Blak’s set design, to Lee Curran’s lighting, the show leaves the audience in a constant state of confusion of time, space, and location.

The show begins with a blank set, and so the review follows. Before the show, the crowd sees a curtain lit to the nebulous phase between translucence and transparency. A mirrored wall behind can barely be made out, with lights running up the seams. As the show opens, the curtain drops, never to be seen again. Mirrors make up the entirety of the back wall, with lights strung between each. Throughout the show, these mirrors put the audience on stage, forcing them to see and therefore confront themselves in the scenes to follow.

These mirrored panels turn and twist about throughout the show, changing first into the black glitter of a dance backdrop. Blak is not content to merely use the panels as typical dance decoration, however, and later turns them into doors, a wolf head, and even a bathroom stall.

Blak artfully uses the panels as their own set of dichotomies: they serve as both entrances and exits, both bridging and breaking points between scenes, and as a way to both demarcate and join different sections of the stage.

In addition to the dichotomy of welcome and disaffection towards the audience, Blak plays with the dichotomy of set and prop. Throughout the show, actors bring in the set pieces and props, which are pushed to the side, rather than being removed from the stage. The stage begins to feel more and more cramped as the wings fill, and it’s clear that the dancers feel the same way. Dance is slowly consuming their identities, and it’s up to them to decide how to deal with it.

Curran’s lighting artfully weaves into Blak’s set. Every recurring source of lighting is used at different times to conversely bring the audience in or push them away. The most striking of these recurring lights is the portrait of the moon. The moon is used to both draw the audience into Irfan Shamji’s Luke’s story, but also to push them away during the “girl’s” rebellion dance.

As a final note about the set, all along the walls of the stage are trophies from dancers past. Brendan Cowell’s Dance Teacher Pat chooses to use these trophies to symbolize the show’s meaning of success. Not only does the Cowell point out the one year with no trophy by saying no one remembers them, he then mentions the next year, where a dancer was recruited to become a professional. One of the panels turns and shows us a shrine dedicated to the dancer. another of Blak’s masterful uses of the panels. All of the dancers begin paying homage to the dancer. This is the first of many times throughout the show that the cast speak about how winning (here becoming noticed and recruited) is the only important aspect of dance. To quote a common sports saying, “winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing.” What the show quietly but insistently points out, however, is that there is a constant culling in this mindset. Despite being a championship team, no one remembers the rest of the star’s team. Slowly but surely, in memory and in action, the weak are culled. Only the strong remain.

In the first scene, Miranda Foster’s Amina gets injured and is never heard from again. Near the end of the show, another dancer makes a mistake and quits dance forever as a result. These actions, along with monologues, showcase a dangerous aspect of not only children’s athletics, but also of society. Weakness and failure are not used as opportunities for growth, but rather as signs of inherent deficiency. And, since the weak get culled, any mistake means you no longer belong. But of course, weakness is not only physical. When Shamji’s character tells us about his nostalgia for car rides home with his mother, we never again are given the chance to view him as anything but a counterpoint for other characters.

In addition to the theme of growth, both physical and emotional, Barron adds a message about a woman’s role. As the show culminates, Karla Crome’s Amina is placed in the unenviable position of choosing between the sport she loves and the people she loves. She makes the choice that is lauded and celebrated when men make in theatre, and is vilified for it. Here, Barron finally outright states a woman’s role: women are expected to exist solely for the benefit of those around them. The show had alluded to this before, with mentions of the actors bonding over shared trauma, and growth from helping each other.

However, beautiful lights and sights, touching messages, and heartfelt acting isn’t the measure of a successful show. There were countless times during the show where I felt myself forgetting that I was in a crowd, watching a group of grown adults acting as prepubescent children, and instead saw myself as a spectator at these competitions, or a person watching some children as they grow and learn. The separation from life, if only for a few moments, is truly what makes a show worth seeing. The Almeida’s staging of Dance Nation certainly suspended me in time.

Draft 4

Clare Barron’s Dance Nation at the Almeida Theatre follows a dance squad of ten to twelve year olds as they prepare for national tournaments. The show places a large emphasis on the sexualization and sexuality of young women, as well as their adolescence. Recommended for ages 16 and over, the show artfully weaves the lives of adults into their childhood recollections, creating a layered effect that both alienates and invites the audience.

Clearly, this dichotomy of alienation and invitation was a goal of Director Bijan Sheibani, as every aspect of the show pushes the audience into this. From the cast’s age, to Samal Blak’s set design, to Lee Curran’s lighting, the show leaves the audience in a constant state of confusion of time, space, and location.

The show begins with a blank set, and so the review follows. Before the show, the crowd sees a curtain lit to the nebulous phase between translucence and transparency. A mirrored wall behind can barely be made out, with lights running up the seams. As the show opens, the curtain drops, never to be seen again. Mirrors make up the entirety of the back wall, with lights strung between each. Throughout the show, these mirrors put the audience on stage, forcing them to see and therefore confront themselves in the scenes to follow.

These mirrored panels turn and twist about throughout the show, changing first into the black glitter of a dance backdrop. Blak is not content to merely use the panels as typical dance decoration, however, and later turns them into doors, a wolf head, and even a bathroom stall.

Blak artfully uses the panels as their own set of dichotomies: they serve as both entrances and exits, both bridging and breaking points between scenes, and as a way to both demarcate and join different sections of the stage.

In addition to the dichotomy of welcome and disaffection towards the audience, Blak plays with the dichotomy of set and prop. Throughout the show, actors bring in the set pieces and props, which are pushed to the side, rather than being removed from the stage. The stage begins to feel more and more cramped as the wings fill, and it’s clear that the dancers feel the same way. Dance is slowly consuming their identities, and it’s up to them to decide how to deal with it.

Curran’s lighting artfully weaves into Blak’s set. Every recurring source of lighting is used at different times to conversely bring the audience in or push them away. The most striking of these recurring lights is the portrait of the moon. The moon is used to both draw the audience into Irfan Shamji’s Luke’s story, but also to push them away during the “girl’s” rebellion dance.

As a final note about the set, all along the walls of the stage are trophies from dancers past. Brendan Cowell’s Dance Teacher Pat chooses to use these trophies to symbolize the show’s meaning of success. Not only does the Cowell point out the one year with no trophy by saying no one remembers them, he then mentions the next year, where a dancer was recruited to become a professional. One of the panels turns and shows us a shrine dedicated to the dancer. another of Blak’s masterful uses of the panels. All of the dancers begin paying homage to the dancer. This is the first of many times throughout the show that the cast speak about how winning (here becoming noticed and recruited) is the only important aspect of dance. To quote a common sports saying, “winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing.” What the show quietly but insistently points out, however, is that there is a constant culling in this mindset. Despite being a championship team, no one remembers the rest of the star’s team. Slowly but surely, in memory and in action, the weak are culled. Only the strong remain.

In the first scene, Miranda Foster’s Amina gets injured and is never heard from again. Near the end of the show, another dancer makes a mistake and quits dance forever as a result. These actions, along with monologues, showcase a dangerous aspect of not only children’s athletics, but also of society. Weakness and failure are not used as opportunities for growth, but rather as signs of inherent deficiency. And, since the weak get culled, any mistake means you no longer belong. But of course, weakness is not only physical. When Shamji’s character tells us about his nostalgia for car rides home with his mother, we never again are given the chance to view him as anything but a counterpoint for other characters.

In addition to the theme of growth, both physical and emotional, Barron adds a message about a woman’s role. As the show culminates, Karla Crome’s Amina is placed in the unenviable position of choosing between the sport she loves and the people she loves. She makes the choice that is lauded and celebrated when men make in theatre, and is vilified for it. Here, Barron finally outright states a woman’s role: women are expected to exist solely for the benefit of those around them. The show had alluded to this before, with mentions of the actors bonding over shared trauma, and growth from helping each other.

However, beautiful lights and sights, touching messages, and heartfelt acting isn’t the measure of a successful show. There were countless times during the show where I felt myself forgetting that I was in a crowd, watching a group of grown adults acting as prepubescent children, and instead saw myself as a spectator at these competitions, or a person watching some children as they grow and learn. The separation from life, if only for a few moments, is truly what makes a show worth seeing. The Almeida’s staging of Dance Nation certainly suspended me in time. 973.

Draft 3

Clare Barron’s Dance Nation at the Almeida Theatre follows a U13 dance squad as it prepares for nationl tournaments. The show places a large emphasis on the sexualization and sexuality of young women, as well as their adolescence. Recommended for ages 16 and over, the show artfully weaves the lives of adults into their childhood recollections, creating a layered effect that both alienates and invites the audience.

Clearly, this dichotomy of alienation and invitation was a goal of Director Bijan Sheibani, as every aspect of the show pushes the audience into this. From the cast’s age, to Samal Blak’s set design, to Lee Curran’s lighting, the show leaves the audience in a constant state of confusion of time, space, and location.

Before the show, the crowd sees a curtain in the murky realm between translucence and transparency. A mirrored wall behind can barely be made out, with lights running up the seams. When the show opens, the curtain drops, never to be seen again. Mirrors make up the entirity of the back wall, with lights strung between each. Throughout the show, these mirrors put the audience on stage, forcing them to see and therefore confront themselves in the scenes to follow.

These mirrored panels turn and twist about throughout the show, changing first into the black glitter of a dance backdrop. Blak is not content to merely use the panels as typical dance decoration, however, and later turns them into doors, a wolf head, and even a bathroom stall.

Blak artfully uses the panels as their own set of dichotomies: they serve as both entrances and exits, both bridging and breaking points between scenes, and as a way to both demarcate and join different sections of the stage.

Blak also did a wonderful job of bridging the dichotomy that is set and prop. Actors carried in the set pieces, or pieces that they worked with remained a part of the show. Throughout the show, the detritus of the dance studio slowly grows and takes over the wings of the stage. The stage begins to feel more and more cramped as the wings fill, and it’s clear that the dancers feel the same way. Dance is slowly consuming their identities, and it’s up to them to decide how to deal with it.

Curran’s lighting artfully weaves into Blak’s set, encouraging this dichotomy. Every recurring source of lighting is used to bring the audience in, as well as push them away. One of these is the recurring motif of a moon. The moon is used to both draw the audience into Luke’s story, but also to push them away during the “girl’s” rebellion dance.

A final note about the set, as means to transition into the acting, all along what is meant to be the ceiling of the room are trophies from dance competitions past. Sheibani and Brendan Cowell’s Dance Teacher Pat choose to use these trophies as a way to symbolize the show’s meaning of success. Not only does the Cowell point out the one year with no trophy by saying no one remembers them, he then mentions the next year, where a dancer was recruited to become a professional. One of the panels turns and shows us a shrine dedicated to the dancer. All of the dancers begin paying homage to the dancer. This is the first of many times throughout the show that the cast speak about how winning (becoming noticed and recruited) is the only important aspect of dance. To quote a common sports saying, “winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing.” What the show quietly but insistently points out, however, is that there is a constant culling in this mindset. Despite being a championship team, no one remembers the rest of the star’s team. Slowly but surely, in memory and in action, the weak are culled. Only the strong remain.

In the first scene, Miranda Foster’s Amina gets injured and is never heard from again. Near the end of the show, another dancer makes a mistake and quits dance forever as a result. These actions, along with monologues, showcase a dangerous aspect of not only children’s athletics, but also of society. Weakness and failure are not used as opportunities for growth, but rather as signs of inherent deficiency. And, since the weak get culled, any mistake means you no longer belong.

As the show culminates, we see Karla Crome’s Amina placed in the unenviable position of choosing between the sport she loves and the people she loves. She makes the choice that is lauded and celebrated when men make in theatre, and is vilified for it. Through this, Barron adds her final message to the show: women are expected to exist solely for the benefit of those around them.

However, beautiful lights and sights, touching messages, and heartfelt acting isn’t the measure of a successful show. There were countless times during the show where I felt myself forgetting that I was in a crowd, watching a group of grown adults acting as prepubescent children, and instead saw myself as a spectator at these competitions, or a person watching some children as they grow and learn. The separation from life, if only for a few moments, is truly what makes a show worth seeing. The Almeida’s staging of Dance Nation certainly suspended me in time. 887.

Draft 2

Clare Barron’s Dance Nation at the Almeida Theatre follows a U13 dance squad as it prepares for nationl tournaments. The show places a large emphasis on the sexualization and sexuality of young women, as well as their adolescence. Recommended for ages 16 and over, the show artfully weaves the lives of adults into their childhood recollections, creating a layered effect that both alienates and invites the audience.

Clearly, this dichotomy of alienation and invitation was a goal of Director Bijan Sheibani and Set Designer Samal Blak.

When first allowed on stage, the crowd sees a curtain in the murky realm between translucence and transparency. A mirrored wall behind can barely be made out, with lights running up the seams. When the show opens, the curtain drops, never to be seen again. Mirrors made up the entire back wall, with lights strung between each. Throughout the show, but especially in the beginning, these mirrors put the audience on stage, forcing them to confront themselves in the scenes to follow.

These mirrored panels turn and twist about throughout the show, changing first into the black glitter of a dance backdrop. Blak is not content to merely use the panels as typical dance decoration, however, and later turns them into doors, a wolf head, and even a bathroom stall.

The use of the panels as entries and exits, to bridge and break scenes, and at the end as a way to recognize the disjointed nature of both the show and life is sublimely achieved. Each of Blak’s set choices felt masterfully laid out.

Lee Curran’s lighting of the show is also incredibly helpful for setting and moving the scenes along, as well as making the minimal set feel larger. When Irfan Shamji’s Luke is on the car ride home with his mother, the moon in the upper right of the stage tells us of the long day he’s had, and connects us to the other dancers, who each have their own memories of the night. As the drive continues, orange lights flow by their faces, reminding the audience of their movement. When Ria Zmitrowicz’s Zuzu has a breakdown, the lights become harsher and harsher until a realization comes through.

But, these few examples are not truly representative of the lighting for the show. There were countless times during the show where I felt myself forgetting that I was in a crowd, watching a group of grown adults acting as prepubescent children, and instead saw myself as a spectator at these competitions. The acting was obviously a key piece of this, but Curran’s lighting was certainly an aspect of this. The lighting during each dance montage was as if pulled directly from a dance routine. Aline David’s choreography added to this effect, as did Moritz Junge’s costuming. Marc Teitler’s sounds added to the dichotomy that Blak and Sheibani used.

Blak also did a wonderful job of using set as prop, and prop as set. Actors carried in the set pieces, or pieces that they worked with remained a part of the show. In the wings of the stage grew the detritus of a dance studio throughout the show, reminding the audience that dance is never far from a young dancer’s mind. As the show progresses, the stage becomes more and more cluttered, just as the depth of the characters’ experiences do.

A final note about the set, as means to transition into the acting, all along what is meant to be the ceiling of the room are trophies from dance competitions past. Sheibani and Brendan Cowell’s Dance Teacher Pat choose to use these trophies as a way to symbolize the show’s meaning of success. Not only does the Cowell point out the one year with no trophy by saying no one remembers them, he then mentions the next year, where a dancer was recruited to become a professional. One of the panels turns and shows us a shrine dedicated to the dancer. All of the dancers begin paying homage to the dancer. This is the first of many times throughout the show that the cast speak about how winning (becoming noticed and recruited) is the only important aspect of dance. To quote a common sports saying, “winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing.” What the show quietly but insistently points out, however, is that there is a constant culling in this mindset. Despite being a championship team, no one remembers the rest of the star’s team. Slowly but surely, in memory and in action, the weak are culled. Only the strong remain.

In the first scene, Miranda Foster’s Amina gets injured and is never heard from again. Near the end of the show, another dancer makes a mistake and quits dance forever as a result. These actions, along with monologues, showcase a dangerous aspect of not only children’s athletics, but also of society. Weakness and failure are not used as opportunities for growth, but rather as signs of inherent deficiency. And, since the weak get culled, any mistake means you no longer belong.

As the show culminates, we see Karla Crome’s Amina placed in the unenviable position of choosing between the sport she loves and the people she loves. She makes the choice that is lauded and celebrated when men make in theatre, and is vilified for it. Through this, Barron adds her final message to the show: women are expected to exist solely for the benefit of those around them. 907.

Draft 1

I had the opportunity to see Clare Barron’s Dance Nation at the Almeida Theatre, a show that follows a U13 dance squad as it prepares for national qualifying tournaments. The show places a large emphasis on the sexualization and sexuality of young women, as well as the struggles of adolescence.

The stage opens with mirrors facing the audience. These mirrors put the audience on stage, and force them to confront themselves in the scenes to follow.

When first allowed on stage, the crowd sees a curtain in the murky realm between translucence and transparency. A mirrored wall behind can barely be made out, with lights running up the seams. When the show opens, the curtain drops, never to be seen again. Mirrors made up the entire back wall, with lights strung between each.

Throughout the show, the once mirrored panels turn and twist about, becoming anything from doors, to black glitter decoration, to a wolf’s head, to a bathroom stall. The use of the panels as entries and exits, as a way to bridge and break scenes, and, at the end, as a way to recognize the disjointed nature of both the show and life is fantastic. Each of Samal Blak’s set choices felt masterfully laid out.

Lee Curran’s lighting of the show is also incredibly helpful for setting and moving the scenes along, as well as making the minimal set feel larger. When Irfan Shamji’s Luke is on the car ride home with his mother, the moon in the upper right of the stage tells us of the long day he’s had, and connects us to the other dancers, who each have their own memories of the night. As the drive continues, orange lights flow by their faces, reminding the audience of their movement. When Ria Zmitrowicz’s Zuzu has a breakdown, the lights become harsher and harsher until her realization comes through.

Continuing to mess with the set, the show did a wonderful job of playing with set as prop and prop as set. Actors tended to carry in the set pieces, or pieces that they worked with remained a part of the show. Always in the wings of the stage were the detritus of a dance studio, reminding that it’s never far away, especially in the minds of the dancers. As the show progresses, the stage becomes more and more cluttered, just as the depth of the characters’ experiences do.

A final note about the set, as means to transition into the acting, all along what is meant to be the ceiling of the room are trophies from dance competitions past. Director Bijan Sheibani and Brendan Cowell’s Dance Teacher Pat choose to use these trophies as a way to symbolize the show’s meaning of success. Not only does the Cowell point out the one year with no trophy by saying no one remembers them, he then mentions the next year, where a dancer was recruited to become a professional. One of the panels turns and shows us a shrine dedicated to the dancer. All of the dancers begin paying homage to the dancer. This is the first of many times throughout the show that the cast speak about how winning (becoming noticed and recruited) is the only important aspect of dance. To quote a common sports saying, “winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing.” What the show quietly but insistently points out, however, is that there is a constant culling in this mindset. Despite being a championship team, no one remembers the rest of the star’s team. Slowly but surely, in memory and in action, the weak are culled. Only the strong remain.

In the first scene, Miranda Foster’s Amina gets injured and is never heard from again. Near the end of the show, another dancer makes a mistake and quits dance forever as a result. These actions, along with monologues, showcase a dangerous aspect of not only children’s athletics, but also of society. Weakness and failure are not used as opportunities for growth, but rather as signs of inherent deficiency. And, since the weak get culled, any mistake means you no longer belong. 686 words.

Reflections on Today’s Gospel

Prereading Note: Sundays will probably be reading responses, and I’ll start each one with the line that stands out most to me.

Draft 2

Mark 9:40 “For he that is not against us is for us.”

Today is the 26 Sunday of Ordinary Time in Year B.

The first reading has Joshua¹ telling Moses to rebuke the men who the spirit is speaking through. Moses tells him that he wishes that everyone could be so chosen.

Jesus continues this in the gospel, where the line that stuck out most to me occurs. While it paints the world in the exact same set of two groups that toxic personalities do,² he does so in the opposite way. Not to let this be confused for assuming that no harm will befall you, or that we should trust everyone and everything, Jesus then tells what to do with identified enemies. In short, remove them. Whether a body part or a fellow human, it’s our duty to remove them when they lead us to sin.

However, the point of everyone who isn’t against you being for you is certainly an important piece of the Gospel. I’m as guilty as anyone else³ in grouping people who aren’t clearly on my side as enemies. This comes out most clearly⁴ in my faith. I often group think of⁵ people who have different faiths than me as being wrong, and even evil, even though their faith is doing for them what faith is supposed to do for all of us: bringing us closer to God, and helping us to help the world. Today’s Gospel called me to be better, which is all that I can ever hope for

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Mark 9:40 “For he that is not against us is for us.”

Today is the 26 Sunday of Ordinary Time in Year B. I really enjoyed the readings, but of course, felt a call from them.

The first reading has Joshua⁶ telling Moses to rebuke the men who the spirit is speaking through. Moses tells him that he wishes that everyone could be so chosen.

Jesus continues this in the gospel, where the line that stuck out most to me occurs. While it paints the world in the exact same set of two groups that toxic personalities do,⁷ he does so in the opposite way. Not to let this be confused for assuming that no harm will befall you, Jesus then tells us what to do with identified enemies. In short, remove them. Whether a body part or a fellow human, it’s our duty to make the world the best it can be.

I’m as guilty as anyone else in grouping people who aren’t clearly on my side as enemies. This comes out most clearly⁸ in my faith. I very often do group people who have different faiths than me as wrong, even though their faith is doing for them what faith is supposed to do for all of us: bringing us closer to God, and helping us to help the world.

Orchard Visit!

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Today, I got to go to an orchard! It was very fun. I learned that plums grow on trees,¹ British people call zucchini² something other than that,³ and I can climb a tree⁴ without getting anything on a set of dress clothes. Also, pear juice is great.

Only downside, I’m sleepy now. Have a great night y’oall!

Basic Flatbread Recipe

Draft 2

As I mentioned in a previous post, I bake bread.¹ In response to that post, a reader asked about other kinds of bread I bake.² So, I thought today I would write about my flatbread recipe.³

All things considered, it’s not much different than the basic bread recipe.^4,5 It also contains between 3 and four ingredients.⁶ It follows below. As before, it is adapted from this website’s book.

Basic Flatbread Recipe:

Ingredients:
5 pounds flour.⁷
10 cups water.⁸
2 heapingish tablespoons salt.⁹ 2 heaping tablespoons yeast.¹⁰

Dough Directions:
Mix all ingredients together.
Cover, but not airtight.
Let sit until at least doubled.
Optionally: refrigerate at any point after mixing. This delays souring.
Once risen, I tend to pick up and drop the container holding the dough to deflate it, but that’s mostly just because it’s fun to watch. I have no clue what the effects are on the dough.
Cover airtight.

Baking Basics:
Flour the dough.
Pull out volume of dough desired.
Using plenty of flour, stretch until at desired thinness.
Note: If it begins shrinking, let stand for a few minutes then try again.
Put into oven preheated to hottest temperature for a while.¹¹
Pull out when dry.
Serve.

Draft 1

As I mentioned in a previous post, I bake bread. Now, in response to that post, a reader asked about other kinds of bread I bake.¹² So, I thought today I would write about my flatbread recipe.

All things considered, it’s not much different than the basic bread recipe.¹³ It also contains between 3 and four ingredients.¹⁴ It follows below. As before, it is adapted.

Basic Flatbread Recipe:

Ingredients:
5 pounds flour.¹⁵
10 cups water.
2 heapingish tablespoons salt.¹⁶ 2 heaping tablespoons yeast.¹⁷

Dough Directions:
Mix all ingredients together.
Cover, but not airtight.
Let sit until at least doubled.
Optionally: refrigerate at any point after mixing. This delays souring.

Baking Basics:
Flour the dough.
Pull out volume of dough desired.
Using plenty of flour, stretch until at desired thinness.
Note: If it begins shrinking, let stand for a few minutes then try again.
Put into oven preheated to hottest temperature for a while.¹⁸
Pull out when dry.
Serve immediately¹⁹

First Day of Class!

Draft 2

As those of you keeping up with my life may know, today was my first day of class at the British University I’m studying¹ at this semester.² It looks to be a really fun class! The professor seems nice and helpful,³ the topic seems interesting,⁴ and the students seem nice.⁵ Unfortunately, felt a lot like I did when I would visit a class back in the days of the college search.⁶

For those of you who aren’t in the college search, who finished that ordeal long ago, or who simply don’t understand what I’m talking about, a frequent part of many campus visits is a chance to watch a class take place. You get to see students interact with each other and a professor in a somewhat live environment. But, since you⁷ tend to visit these classes near the end of the term, there’s a lot of context behind many statements that don’t make sense.

That’s more or less how I felt here. The major is apparently fully tracked here, and only about 30 members strong. So, each of them takes every class together, and takes the same class. In effect, they have more continuity and similar educations to each other over the entire year of class they’ve had than Grinnell has in its one year Organic Chemistry sequence.⁸

The professor would say things like “So-and-so mentioned this last spring, so can anyone remember (related topic)?”⁹ Also, I don’t really know much¹⁰ about Material Science.¹¹

But, this isn’t to bemoan my fate. As I mentioned above, I’m still incredibly excited to learn about polymers! Sure I may not have the same prior experience as the other students in the class, but that’s half the fun!

Draft 1

As those of you keeping up with my life may know, today was my first day of class at the British University I’m studying¹² at this semester.¹³ It looks to be a really fun class! Unfortunately, I felt a lot like I did when I would visit a class back in the days of the college search.¹⁴

For those of you who aren’t in the college search, or who finished that ordeal long ago, or who simply don’t understand what I’m talking about, a frequent part of many campus visits is a chance to watch a class take place. You get to see students interact with each other and a professor in a somewhat live environment. But, since you¹⁵ tend to visit these classes near the end of the term, there’s a lot of context behind many statements that don’t make sense.

That’s more or less how I felt here. The major is apparently fully tracked here, and only about 30 members strong. So, each of them takes every class together, and takes the same class. In effect, they have more continuity and similar educations to each other over the entire year of class they’ve had than Grinnell has in its one year Organic Chemistry sequence.

The professor would say things like “So-and-so mentioned this last spring, so can anyone remember (related topic)?” Also, I don’t really know much about material science. Overall, this class should be a really fun way for me to learn a lot, and prepare me for the real world! I’ll have to learn the information, and also the expected prior knowledge. It’ll be a great time!

Pasta and White Sauce Recipe Recipe

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Since coming to London, I’ve been trying new and exciting recipes.¹ One of these, the focus of tonight’s post, is pasta in white sauce. There are a few reasons for this.

First, I like pasta. It’s a good comfort food and it’s hard to make badly. Second, I like milk based products. Third, I like being able to pretend I made something, more than just dumping something into a pot.

So, the recipe:

Ingredients:
Pasta
Butter
Cheese²
Flour
Milk
Salt

To Make Sauce:
Put approximately equal portions of butter and flour in a pan over medium to low heat.
Mix until it begins to brown.
Add milk and cheese.
Stir, adding more milk as needed.
Add salt to taste.
To Make Pasta:
Salt water.
Cook Pasta.
Drain Pasta.
Put Pasta in Sauce.
Serve.