The Porch of Indecision.

The names of the towns and islands on the Dalmation Coast have vanished like dreams after breakfast. What I do know about here, is there was that big disco bar inside the cave where Markus got punched in the face by a BIG Croatian bouncer... and that this was the place where we jumped from those very big white rocks. Now, I am not one to plunge from such a ways by choice, the slap when the water meets the skin and other thoughts of painful consequences always outweighed the thrill of the air born adventure so I simply put the "high dive" in the category called "...Nah." or "Can do without". On this particular day, however, I jump. For the first time since jumping into a sink hole full of catfish in Mexico about 7 years prior. I jump. But does he? What I love about this moment is the seriousness that builds up when one is considering anything a little too hard for a little too long. Be it to go to this school or that, take that road or this, the fish or the filet, the black or the brown, stay at home or go into town??? Markus calls this, The Porch of Indecision. Oh, I have had many a moment on that porch. I have turned scuff marks into road maps, rusty nails into arrows and the smoke from the other guys cigarette into native sky signals. The entire landscape of that porch, which bears a striking resemblance to the porch from Forest Gump's Childhood home, takes a rapidly shapeshifting form as I construct and deconstruct hypothetical eventualities, like playing a game of Risk. Ohhhhhhh....right. Risk. Yes, when you choose you RISK. There are all kinds of things that come with choice. But no matter the choice, when you JUMP, you know, the faith kind of jump?! You set in motion. And when you set in motion the universe goes "Yeeeeaaah! Now we are talkin, been waiting for you to get on this dance floor for ages!"

Catching the North Wind

And so we saddle the sea once more. This time headed for a southern shore. And since I have been here and you have not, ill tray out some slices, otherwise forgot: We started in Fano,Italy, North of Ancona. Hosted by a fancy marina. Markus, my boyfriend, and I arrived at the caravan expecting to build the piece: he in the ways of wood work and I behind the music.. but of course, as magic of the universe goes and flows, the lead in the show dropped out and, yep... next thing i know Markus and I are both being fitted for our leotards. Oh yes, leotards...

THE CREW

“O, brave new world that has such people in it!”- The Tempest

The colors, the cultures, and the chorus of languages on this boat: We are symphonic here in Tivat! A collection of long lost soul mates found once more. Making something out of nothing but what we find on the floor and in the hearts and minds of one another. My goodness, what an adventure…

French, Canadian, German, Swiss, Bulgarian, Australian, Greek, American, Mexican, Turkish, British, Brazilian, Dutch, Spanish, Croatian… like living in an international house of mirrors. In the faces of these free spirits I take a good, deep look at myself. Day in and Day out, as the moon waxes and wanes in a splendid bend over these black mountains; as the sun spills over the aqua green sea, I breath, buckle, belt, boil, break, burst into a smile and soar…then once more: I Roar!! Into the waves, I wrestle and wrangle, release, rest and REJOICE-- what fortune to grow at light speed!

Though the challenge be stunningly fierce! I believe, with everything I am, that right here and right now, we, on this tall ship in diamond-thieving-Montenegro, represent a mini version of the world; a Micro to the Macro- and through our efforts to breach language barriers, overcome that fiery-piece-of-dark-bit that says “I’m right and you’re wrong”; through our conscious dialogue and communal mission we connect the deepest aspects of our selves toward our common goals- through this work we creatively, collectively, move the universe towards world PEACE.

YO HO YO HO...

How did I get on this boat? “Faith, man.” She says with a “no, but I’m serious” kinda look to her face. Something I really wanted didn’t happen and in the pits of despair I redetermined, right there: No! I am not going to be defeated by this overwhelming sense of “why did my dreams fall through?” I AM GOING TO STOP PLANNING MY LIFE AND START TRUSTING MY LIFE… I am going to get the most undeniably- perfect-for-me summer job- He heart yelled- and its going to be in the most beautiful place in the wide world, with the most incredible people, for all of the reasons why I do theater and … and…
Next morning she awoke, still floating the waves of a dream at sea. "How cool would it be to do theater on a ship.." she recalled in her bed. The mists of the nights fantasy evaporating in the morning sun. But, the resonance of the haunting kept a murmur in her heart, enough to get her talking to anyone who would listen… “No, not like theater on a cruise ship but like a sail boat or something…?”

Three days later a friend called and planted the seed of the Caravan Stage Company. It was as if she had read my heart, painted it and were describing it to me over the phone. Life is extraordinary isn't it? I pursued, the puzzle piece fit and so the adventure in the Adriatic unfolds…

Beyond my wildest…

The Journey from Here to Here

New York to Dublin- Mom I’m in Europe and I am fine. Just landed in Dublin. I met an insta-friend in JFK. I love the airport bar before a big, expectation-less adventure. She's a Middle-age-Mommy, spreading her wobbly wings on the winds of independence and the audacious aim for freedom. She planned this journey with her daughter but, with wisdom, she sees that it needs to be her own. We moved our lives forward and then with a wink and a hollar in love and luck set out to our seats for a hopeful, over seas sleep. Ireland in the now? Is wish for Wellys and a palomino pony. I'm thrilled to see a friend for my afternoon lay over- I should have packed a better jacket.

Barcelona- "I slept well last night" she’ll say. Got to know an Ikea couch while my hosts untied their heart strings as she sets out for the wide. I hear the men on the streets clatter and clank as the late night meal stills finds out what to do with itself. My Spanish is growing and I am inspired by patience. Good Morning Barcelona, sorry to love and leave.

Here!- Tivat, Montenegro- I am in bed. In my very top bunk. Perfect size for me. Two people below. Neither snore. Score!

Wisdom for Modern Life by Daisaku Ikeda
Monday, May 31, 2010
The poetic spirit encourages people in all ranks and places to return to their naked humanity. Neither sentimental nor fantastic, it embraces and affirms the whole world and all its inhabitants; it imparts the will to remain optimistic and unbending in the face of all hardships.
As a believer in innate human goodness, I am certain that the concentrated power of good can overcome the greatest forces of evil. The poetic spirit helps us control the greed-dominated self. It helps us handle the actual while keeping our eyes turned toward the ideal.

Ahoy!