... is it's something to write home about.

Hey y'all!


Here's a short video of the creative writing exercises I facilitated in Belfast, Northern Ireland this autumn.

More soon to come as we finishing editing "Wall to Wall," a short film documenting the journey I took alongside my colleague Uri Noy Meir over the past four months--from the separation walls in Belfast to the separation wall in occupied Palestine--making community-based art along the way.

Until then--enjoy!

...is it crosses borders.

Hey y'all!

Crossing through the checkpoint today for Jenin. Ben and I have packed a bag of kitchen stuff--utensils, pots and pans, oatmeal and tea. The guest house we'll be staying in is above the Freedom Theater. "It's spare," Ben told me.

Our schedule looks full and exciting. On Friday, we're slated to give our first five-day workshop. Ben will be introducing everyone to Playback Theater. I'm pumped!

We're leaving for the bus in about ten minutes. :)

Love!

--

Also: here's an editted-down version of the video we made for another group we worked with in Belfast. These kids were older teens--about 13-15--who had been excluded or expelled from traditional school for a variety of reasons. They were self-conscious at first, but after three weeks, they really opened up and I had a great time playing and learning with them.

...is it's playful.

Here's one of my favorite moments with the guys:

This is an activity that we borrowed and appropriated from the cannon of Playback Theatre. Each of the older youth workers paired with a younger kid and described a physical space--a room or part of their home--that was very special to them when they were young. In turn, the child then describes a favorite part of their home. After a few minutes walking each other through their respective spaces, everyone gathers back together and "plays back" their partner's space for them.

For example, my partner, Dan, described the drawing room of his house; so, when we gathered together, I acted as Dan interacting with the room as I imagine he would. I used all the details he gave me--"here's the couch where I sit and watch TV, here's a big coffee table," etc--and he laughed and smiled as he watched. In turn, Dan then walked through my childhood bedroom--miming the windows where I said they'd be, reading an invisible book on my invisible bed.

For many of the boys, this was the first time I really saw them acting. It was thrilling to see them use their imagination, and touching to feel so thoroughly heard by someone almost a decade my junior. The clip I included shows the first part of the process--the telling and listening. Enjoy!

...is you love at day three.

Yesterday I led a few creative writing exercises with the boys at 741 Trust, where we've been holding workshops. They listed the first ten words that came to their minds in fifteen seconds, then passed the paper to their left. The person on their left circled their three favorite words, then passed it to the next. That person composed three sentences using those three words, and the person to their left performed the piece as spoken word poetry.

The pieces were written in about three minutes, and were absolutely stunning. Here's an example:

I am a dog
I am a dog.
I love at day three
I see the sun.

I was walking outside
I was walking outside and I got shot.
To my surprise it was only a plastic bullet.
I heard an incredibly loud whisper coming from Willy Wonkas
     Chocolate Gun That Fired the Plastic Bullet.
It smelt like burned pizza
Finally I tasted plastic bullet in my mouth.

~ ~ ~

I'm typing the poems up tonight, and my fellow artists and I will memorize a few to perform for the kids on Thursday, when we see them next.

In the meantime, enjoy this video of Stevie destroying me in football during our dinner break:

...is you can't always count on acoustics.

I have arrived in Belfast!

Until Monday, Hector, Allegra and I are free. We hope to network with other community groups—and quickly—to supplement the small group of young boys we met yesterday. Uri will join us tomorrow, and already I have dreams for the echo-y theatre space we’ll be working in on Monday:

The 174 Trust is a converted 19^th-century Protestant church—stained glass windows and vaulted, wood ceilings. It now houses a myriad of social outreach programs. Seniors dance traditional Irish dances in the main hall once a week, special needs children are entertained, after-school programs float in and out. The acoustics are challenging--it sounds more like a gymnasium than a theatre space--but the energy in the building is rich. There are lots of spirits hanging about.

Razor wire spirals about the brick walls that circle the building, at odds with the period architecture, "for insurance purposes." Across the street, a tiny girl in pigtails squeaks around the corner on a plastic bike. Clouds hang low above the terraced houses.

I can't wait to begin the work.