130 Tales: 21 through 30

And already, it’s happened: I’ve fallen behind on posting these things that I’m literally copying and pasting from an open file, just like I had fallen behind in the creation of these 130 Tales the first time. I do, however, think I have a reasonable excuse, but excuses are excuses and really what I need to do is realize yes, I can write posts days in advance and set them to automatically publish at the future time of my choosing. Any way, with Fringe taking the majority of my time and my not having the internet at home, and, oh yeah, that flood / black-out thing that happened in Toronto yesterday (ugh… still managed to squeeze those excuses in here somehow, didn’t I? Why am I not surprised?) I’m finally posting the next instalment, the third instalment of 130 Tales today. Wednesday. Not Monday (really, I’m the only one keeping track of this).

This, like I said in my last addition to 130 Tales, is where, I think, the tales get interesting. I actually enjoy the majority of what was written in this decade; I feel like I finally let myself have fun with the limitations set upon myself. Let’s hope it continues until the end.

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130 Tales

# 21 – 30

21. His eyes flutter above the scrim, from rope to hinge, weight and follow. Swallowed in black he alights on actor: jealous white.

22. The blade, sharp as wit feels nothing. Gliding smooth beneath his hand it curls up flesh, wood and finds buried treasure.

23. The three of them stare, reddened. Born of different times and morals, they finally become one as she dances this duet, partnered.

24. Form deflated, eyes down. She walks awkwardly, catching herself. Her lips read her thoughts: “Why haven’t I grown out of this?”

25. I second guess my hunger as I stand in a cafe watching two fruit flies court amidst the sugary folds of a strawberry Danish.

26. As she leaves he steals her eyes one last time. A short kiss without ever touching. Gifts given, they smile deeper than any other.

27. His hands open this book methodically. His fingers lick every page, tasting its life, eyes digesting himself for the last time.

28. I can hear the bass’ vibrations enter my shoulder; it is a touch, resting on glass, that caresses two of my five senses.

29. Her foot often kicks air. It is a hobby, if feet can have hobbies. But there it goes, kicking as the city shrinks out the window.

30. His heart screams. A breath is stopped, bubbling, boiling. Yet he sits, legs crossed, unable to move. Almost there.

dossier: Heather Marie Annis and Amy Lee for MORRO AND JASP: GO BAKE YOURSELF

As a fellow clown, albeit a new one who really has no experience clowning with or around these two, and York alumnae (it’s about time I shamelessly showed pride of my roots on this site – I realize that sounds like I harbour problems with York’s training. Really, I don’t; I had an excellent time there and think the training I received was exactly what I needed. I just don’t talk about it much anymore. Gotta move forward, amiright?) I am greatly excited to bring both Amy Lee and Heather Marie Annis by today to chat a little about the reprise of their hit, GO BAKE YOURSELF! That’s right, Morro and Jasp are in the field to chat about what got them started.

Amy, Heather and I mostly just missed each other at York University. I had seen them around, and I think Amy had seen me, or at least knew my face, but it wasn’t until, maybe three Fringes ago that we actually met and had a conversation. It’s funny because I think I’ve actually seen these two perform more frequently out of nose than I have in nose (if you haven’t seen these two bust out their acting chops, do yourself a favour and keep your ear to the ground for what they’re up to next; usually they come as a pair, but individually they are their own unique forces of theatre-nature. It’s quite refreshing).

I know Fringe is well underway, but if you need to fill a hole in your roster and you’re just hearing about this show right now (which you probably aren’t), there’s still time to catch it! You’ll just have to line up a bit early…

dossier #18:

Who are we talking with?

Heather Marie Annis and Amy Lee (sometimes known as Morro and Jasp).

What drew you down this path? (to theatre, to clowning, to Fringing, to wherever the hell you are in life)

We were in theatre school at York and discovered that we really loved working together. Byron Laviolette (our director and co-collaborator) had studied Pochinko clown and after he saw us in a physical piece together, asked us if we’d be interested in playing around with clown. We said yes, having no idea what to expect, and then we kept saying yes to every opportunity to experiment with/perform clown.

What is your earliest memory of realizing, yep, this is what I’m going to do with my life?

Amy decided when she was 6. Heather decided in high school. Although that was acting, not clown. Clown was a bit of a surprise love for both of us.

Why MORRO AND JASP: GO BAKE YOURSELF?

We both love cooking, baking, and food in a serious way. When we were roommates we would experiment with new recipes and they would almost always turn out disastrously (even though on our own, we are pretty kitchen saavy). We thought, “What could be more fun than letting our clowns play in the kitchen?” We also wanted to look at our relationship with food and how food helps us relate to one another. And we have a whole lotta fun doing it…

What kind of atmosphere do you intend to set up, or can someone expect from MORRO AND JASP: GO BAKE YOURSELF?

Fun, delicious, and full of love.

You’ve done the Canadian Fringe circuit often in the past. What do you look forward to the most when touring a new show to a new city?

Every audience is difference. And because we interact with our audiences so much, that really impacts us and the show. It is always really exciting to see how the space, city and people will affect the show and how we can play with that.

What is your favourite memory from a past Fringe circuit show?

Ah! Too many to pick one! Although, if we have to…We created a very audience-dependent ending to our show last year and we had no idea whether it would actually work, so on opening, when it did, we cried so many tears of joy!

Describe MORRO AND JASP: GO BAKE YOURSELF in three adjectives, a phrase, or with sound.

Mmmmm….

Do you have anything else you’d like to share? Photos, videos, links, posters, stories, wishes?

Here is our trailer for it:

We are sold out of our advance tickets for the run, but there are still tickets at the door every show!

We want to wish every Fringer out there, whether you’re performing or watching, so much love, so much gratitude, and may the Force be with you!

our own weather.

130 Tales: 11 through 20

Today brings the next slightly embarrassing instalment of my old twitter project 130 Tales. I mean, it’s not really all that bad (I specifically like #s 11 & 13), but these first 20 are just so… cold? I feel like I was trying a bit too much to be deep, cryptic. After #20, I clearly relax a bit. Humour starts cropping up in unexpected places. And as much as I would like to skip these 10 and go straight to #21, I cannot. I must bear this, IF only for a week.

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130 Tales

# 11 – 20

11. He lays there staring down his body at a dichotomy. One lithe and angular. The other rounded, puffy. When did he become two?

12. The bus pulls over to the side, its driver silent. The passengers get up, angry at his inaction. Witness the loss of importance.

13. Leaving, I feel a tap on my shoulder. A card pressed in my hands. “Call me later and I’ll explain everything.” What? “Just call.”

14. I saw the same cat twice, trailing itself. Real or fake, I don’t care. It was the exact same. Crossing my path. Telling me to go.

15. It wasn’t until that first mouthful. Before that I was nothing more than a spectre, floating amidst waking and dreaming.

16. My hand digs, past scab into flesh and bone, massaging bone as I lay beneath the forgotten trees of my dream.

17. My eyes catch leg, only leg, always leg. Soon she’ll stop, turn and our eyes will touch, belong… Yet our voices will never meet.

18. The earth moves, its structure rumbles. I see two lights break the darkness. My feet shake and my mind jumps. Still. This is art.

19. A moment like that: when people just forget – what they are, who they are and just Are. That moment – it’s why I do this.

20. The night of the theatre gives her freedom. Eyes, mind open, expanding, questioning until she questions herself: why is this new?