Toward a Theatre Dojo
Experience needs to be sung. None of the words express the truth; the breath that supports the word is the truth. The outcry is the event, not the content.
Content is noisy. Without a quiet center, the noise makes us deaf to experience. Walking, sitting, standing, lying down, we do well to be quiet enough to hear God breathe. (And even “God” is noise.)
The mind wants to close around things and dampen their uniqueness; we mute our own resonance, and alienate ourselves from our true home. Sit down. Put your breath down low where it belongs. Put your attention on it. Feel, and ignore definitions and explanations. Resonate. Feel your intrinsic power (that isn’t yours). Where does it originate? Can you feel?
Actors, you are phonies. No human talks the way y’all do on stage. You don’t know where language originates, where the cry comes from. (There are exceptions among you, please understand, but if you go see theatre or talk to actors about the craft, you know.) That is why you do not connect and why your stories are soon forgotten. How many of you are even concerned with connecting? How many actors consider the social function or even the ministry of theatre?
Actors, sit. Do a seven-day Zen retreat just one time. Everything you have learned is hollow if you don’t know where the water emerges from the rock. All of my words miss the mark; please look to where I’m throwing the darts.
