Markre de Sol: Behind the Ramparts and Dreaming

One man's quest to articulate the grunts and gurgles of modern life.

Name:
Location: Chicagrocrag, IL, Fiji

I got like, this big, big stick of gum. I chew it a little bit at a time, because I wanna savor it.

Saturday, February 17, 2007

Eccentric artist does taxes left-handed

Fergie-Fergs,

Alone this weekend. I am. Mein leiben is out of state. This means that I have hours upon hours of time to dwell, brood, and marinate in my own juices. Getting restless. Reh!

Had ein Kafelunchen with Futurist T today. She clued me in to a short play/sketch festival going on in June so I have spent the afternoon/evening committing my recent idea for a solo show (tentatively titled "Zombies!(and also Giant Robots)") to paper (well computer-code). FAT.

The story is about a guy named Walter Roi who builds a giant robot to escape his unhappy marriage. He names the robot Rudy Giuliani.

Some ideas for new stop motions are also poking their amorphous eye-stalks into the backwaters of my mind. More on those as they become realized.

Start wearing purple, wearing purple. Wearing purple for me now.

ESSEN MEIN GAMSPATEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sunday, February 11, 2007

Everybody's pants now

Photochemicals,

I just spent yesterday adding sound to an oldish piece of claymation that I made way back when I lived in Ohiey. It is an anti-war piece. Political satire at its most sophomoric. Who would have guessed it?

John Malkovich's head-oils are famous.

It is a lazy Sunday and I know not what to do with myself, so I opt to boil frozen chicken and write this blog entry.

All is well on the Western Front.

Pax,

Ma' R. Kre

Saturday, February 03, 2007

JOBBED!

Snakemen and ladies,

I've done it mon amigos. I have secured gainful employment - full timesies! By way of the "direct hire" department in a Chicagy employment agency I was able to find an interview with a company. Through my concerted efforts at jedi mind training, I was able to convince the execs that I am a good candidate for their administrative assistant position. So I nabbed it. 8 months of living in this city and I have finally landed my full time job. Whew.

Simultaneously, the Destructicon is cleaning up shop with landing audition appointments and recommendations from castmates to act for area theatre companies. I am very happy for her. Things appear to be taking off for us in this roost that we have built for ourselves on planet sub-zero.

So my next step (after getting comfortable at my new job and avoiding passing out fearful-Johnny Depp-Sleepy Hollow style at my desk) is to reapproach theatrical auditions and/or scope out local improv troupes to join. I want to do some theatre/performance that is higher quality than the place that I left off. My last play and improv performances, although valiant efforts were not really a progression to a higher quality of work. If I'm not being paid to perform, then I want to be artistically satisfied at least. I think that I've outgrown the days when the thrill of being in a show was enough to make all the hours and energy invested within worthwhile. I wish that I could bring Johnny Longform back to this city. I didn't realize it at the time, but we had something very special going on.

In other news, I'll be returning to Ace Morganville in March to participate in a Burpee's reunion. This will be my first official academic reunion of any kind that I've actually participated in. I anticipate a lot of good nostalgia, an abundance of physcially detrimental drinking, and a painful undercurrent of sadness. My assumption is that the older alumns who gave up performance to move on and become bankers or (GASP!) administrative assistants will probably smack of quiet desperation around the youngsters who are currently Burpee's. Conversely, I also expect that those of us who have continued to dry hump the dream of being Professional Improvisers (if such a thing even exists) will be silently screaming that we are still funny and not pathetic former-performers/current training center students.

Although maybe I'm just a heaving bag of insecurities and the former troupemates just want to get together to horse around for a weekend.

Oh yeah. "Burpee's" is an improv comedy troupe from my undergrad institution. It is spelled correctly because it is the possessive form of "Burpee". As in, "Mortimer Burpee's cock was exceptionally tart today." End of line.

Oh yeah. I've been having all these dreams where I'm in the Medival times. Not the theme restaurant, but the era from 400 C.E. to 1200 C.E. (or at least until the Italian Renaissance started).

Joik,

M