dans la vie d'abi

http://www.tcg.org/publications/at/nov09/women.cfm

Discussing the status of women in the theatre feels a little like debating global warming. I mean, why are we still having this discussion? According to a report issued seven years ago by the New York State Council on the Arts, 83 percent of produced plays are written by men—a statistic that, by all indications, remains unchanged. Nobody doubts that the North Pole is melting, either—we see it on the news. These are both looming disasters produced by lazy behavior that nobody bothered to stop. End of discussion. What we have to do in both cases is commit to change before it is too late.

But, you ask, why is it a disaster that women writers are wildly underrepresented on the American stage? Actually, it's awful all over the arts world for women. My painter pals tell me that at one big museum in New York City, the new acquisitions by men are on the walls, while the new work by women is all in crates in the basement. Only in the orchestra world are the gender numbers equal, and that's because they started holding blind auditions a few years ago.

The U.S. Department of Labor considers any profession with less than 25 percent female employment, like being a machinist or firefighter, to be "untraditional" for women. Using the 2008 numbers, that makes playwriting, directing, set design, lighting design, sound design, choreography, composing and lyric writing all untraditional occupations for women.

I remember as a child having been absolutely traumatized by my one and only experience inside the humongous green water slide at the local pool of La Baule.  Steps away from our summer house, my sister, cousins and I had gone to the pool to try out the newly advertised water slide.  My cousins and sister were courageous and excited.  I was scared.  What if i get stuck?  What if someone bumps into me?  What if, what if, what if.  All the precautions were taken so that I would feel safe and try to experience the huge amount of FUN which the water slide was suppose to procure.  I headed into the covered slide, reassured that my cousins would be the ones following behind, buffers between me and the crazy other people interested in the green slide.  Of course, no one could have expected that some turbulent fearless children would decide to pass my protectors while in the slide (which I'm sure was absolutely forbidden), and proceed to bump into me and traumatize me forever in terms of enclosed water slides.

A few days ago, i set foot into the local pool of La Baule for the first time in years.  Many things had changed since my last visit - namely a "spa" area with jacuzzi tubs, water jets, as well as a sauna and steam room.   The minute I entered the pool, I noticed a woman in her late 50's early 60's.  Her hair was short and spiky, her face and body strong.  As I tried to figure out whether i would prefer to do laps first and then relax or vice versa, my mind started weaving this woman's heroic tale - clearly she had always been a strong determined woman, there was something Germanic or American about her.  She had gotten sick.  She had gone through chemo.  She had fought, long and hard and she had won.  She now lived everyday fully, taking good care of her health, coming to the pool to swim.  As my mind wandered, I watched her go upstairs.  As I did my laps, and then went to relax in the jacuzzi tub, i watched her repeatedly head to the stairs and dissapear.  Head to the stairs and disspear.  Again and again.  Finally, thinking I was probably missing out on another hot tub of sorts, I asked the lifeguard what was upstairs.  "The slide" he answered somewhat aggressively.  I thanked him, turned away and laughed at myself.  For the past hour, this woman, who according to my wandering mind came to the pool to swim and take care of herself, had in fact been having a blast going on the slide for the last hour!  She didn't do a single lap, she didn't relax in the spa area, she just climbed those stairs and went on the water slide.

Inspiring talk by Elizabeth Gilbert

Troupe’s Communal Vision Includes Lunch

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/06/theater/06mnouchkine.html

What Do Women Want?

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/01/25/magazine/25desire-t.html

Last night, I wandered to the other side of the bed. You know…the side I don’t usually sleep on.

When beginning a new relationship, I always try to adhere to certain guidelines, which I naively believe will help keep the relationship vibrant and healthy. One of those guidelines is not having a specific side of the bed, but instead, changing sides on a regular basis. I figure that. at least symbolically, this prevents anyone from getting too set in their ways.

When I moved in with my lover about 8 months ago, we invariably ended up subconsciously choosing sides of the bed, which we seem to have held on to since then. I knew my guidelines were out the window when we bought matching night tables from Ikea and I filled mine with, among other things, various psychology books, a dream diary and my alarm clock. I clearly marked my territory, my side of the bed, breaking my own little precious rule.

Last night, I wandered to the other side of the bed, just to check it out, to see if I slept better there than on my old regular side. The night was going on marvelously until I decided to turn and nearly fell out of bed, catching myself at the very last minute by grabbing on to the matching night stand. 27 and almost falling out of bed….tss, tss, tss….Lesson learned. I’ll stick to my side for now, and go to the other side when I decide to test my self-preservation sleeping reflexes.