February 26th was my birthday, which was the five month anniversary of leaving Marysville. I can't believe I have already been here that long.

Some birthdays seem surreal. Am I really another year older? Where did the time go? But this one did not; it seemed inevitable, almost like a relief. I've had to remind myself for several weeks that I was only twenty-two. I view my twenty-third year with excitement and deep belief that this year good things are going to happen to me, and I will be successful in my endeavors. Had I gone to a Chinese restaurant, my fortune cookie would have said "Great luck will meet preparation. Lucky numbers: 2014, 867-5309, 3.14."

I know this will come as a shock, but I didn't go to a Chinese restaurant. I know, what is wrong with me? Instead, I went out with Burcin and Corinna to Eigelstein, which is a restaurant that serves pretty traditional German food. I went there one other time after the orchestra concert and got Grillhaxe. Sooo good. So German.

I got Spätzlepfanne that night, and I was in heaven. Spätzle is like a noodle that can't decide if it wants to be a dumpling or pasta. I looked up how to make it, and it is very simple (and very doable in my kitchen). Get ready for a Spätzle recipe!

Anyway, as good as the food was, the company was even better. I insisted that we attempt to speak in German, and so we talked Germlish for a while (a combination of German and English...German Mexican food is called Ger-mex) before eventually ending up in English.

I treated myself to an Apfelstrudel, which the waitress brought out with a candle and said, "Happy Birthday Rachel" with an excellent accent. (Now I know why the other girls took so long in the bathroom...) The girls pulled out a couple of gifts for me: a shirt I tried on when we went shopping a week earlier, and a letter Burcin wrote me. The paper was beautiful, with red, blue, yellow, and shining gold Turkish/Persian designs.

On the back of the letter was a poem Burcin wrote me in Turkish. She read it to me, and although I could not understand a word of what she was saying, it was beautiful. Burcin always sounds sophisticated and soothing when she speaks; her voice is smooth and pure and the words glide into one another seamlessly. After she read it, she gave me a rough translation. It is difficult to translate into English because you to understand Turkish idioms to really grasp it.

The gist of the poem was time (Zaman). Time slips through our fingers, and we can be waiting and waiting for something, but then suddenly it is gone. Time can heal and it can also bring pain when something ends--but it is just time. Be you in that moment and you will be fine.

She said my time here--our time together--is limited, and it is. I can't believe it is halfway over. Some of the Erasmus students have already gone home. Soon it will be me leaving.

That night as I ate Spätzle and tried speaking German, my time here was sweeter than normal. I felt how I was going to miss it. As my time here passes it becomes more precious; every gesture, every connection is made sweeter and more painful. I will leave these people soon. I wish I could put them in my pocket and take them with me, pack them in a box and move them with me forever.

I sometimes forget how little time I have here. I let the small details that give life color slip by unnoticed: the way the grass is forever green; the blonde hair braided smoothly against women's heads; the brown Kalb and Hänchen that rotates in front of red-hot coils, all beneath a low gray sky. The red and orange ivy clinging to the houses in Margarethenhöhe is gone. The only time I will ever see that in my life is possibly gone, but I looked up last night and saw delicate white flowers blooming on a tree. I might not ever see that ivy again, but I also might not see those flowers again, so I need to to soak it all in.

Fall and winter are gone here, but spring is coming. I hear the birds singing and see the daffodils (and feel the allergies). I bought some pink tulips today (they are way cheaper than the ones in America), and they brighten the whole room. I could be sad that fall is gone (I'm never sad to see winter gone. December, you have always been a problem child), but spring is wonderful. It's just like Burcin said about looking back, just be who you are now--where and when you are.

The next five months will be over before I know it, but I can do and see so much in five months. I can try every type of bread the bakery sells, make all the German food I can (looking at you Knödle), travel everywhere I can, and say every sentence auf Deutsch ich kann. I don't get a second chance at these experiences, just as I don't get a second chance to be 23.

In my birthday card Mom wrote "Man is that he might have joy. Life is meant to be lived, and you, my dear, are living it." Thoreau wrote that we must "suck the marrow out of life." Well, I intend to keep the bone in the meat, make Grillhaxe over Spätzle, suck the marrow out, and then use the bones to make a stock, because I sure as hell am not getting any younger!

With Love,

Rachel

Blind Spots is now officially finished. Burcin texted me yesterday and said "It was such a beautiful journey, can't believe it's 'over'." For me, it has been the best part of Germany. Sure, I like the bread and the landscape is pretty, but I feel that Only Connect is the one thing that I would never find anywhere else. I've been in theatre productions before, but they were never like this. This is completely unique. I feel that this group is what has made my time in Germany truly memorable and worthwhile.

I have made so much personal progress here, and I give 70% of the credit to Only Connect. I had already began developing a more positive attitude, which allowed me to utilize the lessons I learned in this group, but Only Connect provided an environment where creativity and support were central. It was really the right opportunity at the right time.

I honestly believe that someday I will view this production as one of the formative experiences in my life. I learned how to trust myself again and that I have something to offer the world that is precious. I have rediscovered how much I love to perform. Actually, of all the performances I have ever been involved with, this is the one I am most proud of. So proud, in fact, that I am going to frame the poster. I have never even considered doing that before.

So, to all my friends in Only Connect I want to say thank you. You have made my time here in Germany wonderful, which in itself is a precious gift, but you have also done far more than that. You have helped bring me out of a very dark place in my life, and I will never be able to communicate to you how much lighter and freer I feel because of that.

You are all warm, passionate, brave people, and I appreciate each of you uniquely. For the veterans who performed in Power of Pussy I want to say that all of you have grown so much as actors during this production. You far exceeded my expectations and gave Blind Spots a beautiful soul. To the newbies I want to say that you guys rocked it. You all took on big roles and provided a level of commitment that brought Only Connect to a new level.

To Corinna--You put your soul into writing and performing this play. The professionalism with which you handled rehearsals set the tone for everyone else. Congratulations to you. You created something that moved people, and (for me) even changed lives. I don't think that performing a different play would have impacted me as deeply as this one did.

Burcin--Look at you! You took on the most difficult role in the play, and I honestly believe you were the right person for the job. You brought the intelligence and depth that Alice Munro deserves and all the coy sophistication that I believe she possesses. You showed impressive work ethic by learning all those lines and cues, as well as researching and trying to understand Alice. And your belly dancing was amazing!

And to Julie--First of all you are super hot, and I hope to look as good as you do when I am older. Hell, I want your legs now! But, more importantly, (is there a more importantly? j/k) you have an amazing balance between youth and wisdom. You have kept the creativity and playfulness of a child, but without any of the immaturity. The rehearsals you run are always professional and demanding, asking the actors to push their limits. 

As you have demonstrated through the casting choices of this play, you see peoples' potential and strengths. I will admit, I originally wanted the role of Liza, but I learned and grew so much more by being part of the music group and playing Sandra. (I got use some of my inner Sandra yesterday...) I actually don't think I would have been ready for a bigger role. 

I am looking forward to playing cello in Narnia for you. I am a bit nervous, but I know that if I am in your hands everything will be okay. You kept saying, "You've got to trust me." Well, I have certainly learned to trust you, and I will take any risk you want me to. For you I would stand on my desk and cry                           
                           O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
                           Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,
                           For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,
                           For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

I respect and admire you so much. Although what you do is mostly hard, dirty work you found your magic dust and gave some to me. And you know what? I'm not going to let that magic go to waste. You have shown me that following your passion can make a lasting impact on other peoples' lives (while also ensuring you don't live in a cardboard box on the street), and that gives me so much hope for my own life. 

I think Alice's wonderland, your world, and mine aren't so different. We are all creators, we are never static. We are always trying to figure out the world and put our figurings into some form through which we can can communicate them with people. It's an odd thing, really. 

So, thank you for creating Only Connect and giving us Warriors--Misfits, Travelers, Vandals--a place to come together and create a safe, supportive, stimulating environment. Thank you for kicking our butts when we felt we didn't have any more energy to give. Thank you for providing us with something beautiful.

                            O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
                            The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,
                            The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,                                                      
                                                      --------------------------------------------
                            From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
                                                       Exult O shores, and ring O bells!

We came in victorious, and what a journey it was! I'm looking forward to the next one.

With love,

Rachel

Yesterday was the premiere of Blind Spots, the play I am in. I tried tapping into emotions deep inside of me so that my character, Sandra, would live--if only for one night. I didn't realize how deeply I had reached until I began crying on stage. For the rest of the day my emotions were very raw and quick to show. Once you access those parts of yourself you can't just put them in a box and store them for later. I'm still highly emotional today. When I wrote this in my notebook tears dripped onto the page, causing the blue lines to expand and reach toward on another. I am going to hold this state for the performance tonight.

Before the show yesterday, my director, Julie, gave an incredible speech. She had us kneel and put our hands on the polished hardwood floor that constituted our stage area. "This is holy ground," she said, "this is a place of love. Everyone on this stage is here to support you." Indeed they were. That has been my experience with the drama class this entire semester. It is a place of safety where each of us has grown and learned to connect with one another. Thus the name of the group--Only Connect. Courage. Love. Drama. No other words could possibly describe this group.

At the beginning of the semester I entered the class hoping to find friends in a foreign land, but in the end I found someone I had sought for a long time: myself. I wanted to learn how to love performing again, how to love my talents again.

I helped write and perform the music in the play. In October I was a classically trained cellist who did not believe I was good enough at my instrument (or at singing), who could not play anything unless it was written in black notes that seemed carved in stone. Now I go and improvise in the park, knowing that I can play my instrument beautifully enough that I don't need to worry about having a melody or prepared piece. I am proud of how hard I worked to be able to produce those full, rich tones, and how far I have come in less than four years. I am not a professional, but I am the best I can be in this moment, and that is enough.

When Julie asked me to play cello with a group of talented, passionate musicians my immediate thoughts were "But I'm not good enough," and "Oh god, how can I perform in front of people without making a fool of myself?" I was so intimidated the first music practice; however, Tim (guitar/vocals) and Alex (guitar) were very nice and supportive. I never felt like they were judging me when I had rhythmic issues or played out of tune. Rebecca had similar issues because she hadn't played flute in two years and she was used to having sheet music. But the music group was a place of safety where we could explore without feeling the need to defend or explain ourselves. If we messed up, it was not a reflection of our abilities. It was just a mistake. No big deal.

In fact, the entire class was all about taking risks and not judging anything, create a sense of trust between all of the cast members. I was made aware of this last night at the premiere party. A group of us ended up sitting in Corinna's (the playwright) dark kitchen at 2 am. Burcin asked Tim to play "Wayfaring Stranger", so he pulled out his guitar and Rebecca and I sand backup vocals. Afterward he played a slow acoustic cover of "Lights" by Ellie Goulding and I harmonized with him. It was lovely, free, and utterly enjoyable. 

Then, people asked Alex to play. He said that he couldn't sing as well as Tim and he didn't have anything prepared. He was so insecure about his abilities, and I heard myself in his words because I have used them many, many times. All of us believe in him and respect him as a musician, but he didn't meet his own standards. I understood that.

Alex is a man who keeps people at a distance. He is an enigma, hiding from other people so that they won't judge him as harshly as he judges himself--but when he played he let us in. His performance was beautiful and vulnerable, and we all connected with him through it. "Grave digger," he sang "when you dig my grave/ could you make it shallow/ so I can feel the rain". I could hear all of his fears and desires and so did everyone else. That's what art is about: being authentic and allowing people to experience the world as you do. You're technical skill does not matter. If you are sincere then people will appreciate what you are doing and connect with it.

Nobody in the room was judging if the notes were played properly or the singing was good, because they were more concerned with the person who was performing it. (He sang and played wonderfully...) The mere fact that someone wants to play music means that something about it touches them at their core, and when they play--even if they are not prepared of skilled-- if they are sincere they will touch someone in the audience (not to get all corny).

I found Alex's performance incredibly brave. That inspired me to be as open and vulnerable as possible and share something very special to me. I performed a song that I wrote (the only one I have written as of yet) for the first time. Giving your words and music--yourself--to an audience is something very scary, but I felt so safe in that dark little kitchen. I feel that in this post I have created another safe place, so I would like to share the lyrics with you, my dear readers.

Uphill Slide

I felt like Atlas shoulders stooped
Trapped by their words weighing me down
Great expectations, great failed attempts
Atlas take back your burden please.

I was Macbeth, ambition's slave
Drenched in the blood of all my dreams
Some died by my hand and some just by fate
Lady Macbeth take your man away.

Cuz I'm on an uphill slide
And I'm gonna get this right
I'm done bandaging my pride
Cuz I'm on an uphill slide

I crafted gold from only straw
Spinning my words with melodies
Some had their music, and some were just shit
But you're going to say my name I swear.

Cuz I'm on an uphill slide
And I'm gonna get this right
I'm done bandaging my pride
Cuz I'm on an uphill slide

*bridge under reconstruction*

After I sang it Alex quietly said "Es war schön." (that was pretty/nice). I believed him because I heard the same Alex who sang "Gravedigger". It didn't matter that I sang it a third too high or that my voice was shaky from crying at the song before it (I have a very emotional connection with that song). I said what I wanted to, and I gave the people in that room a very precious gift. They weren't listening to whether the melody was pretty or the lyrics were poetic, they were listening to the fact that it meant enough to me to write about it. They provided me with a place where I felt safe, and I wanted to share that with them.

I want more of those gatherings. I want to have more of these experiences with people and provide that for them as well. I'm done looking at music from the haughty perspective I used to have and instead have learned to appreciate artists' sincerity, even if it is not my taste in music. I want to connect with people. An artist should not strive to impress people, only to connect with them.

I gave an amazing performance last night at the premiere (if I do say so myself), and I had so many people come up to me afterward and thank me for sharing that very deep and personal experience with them. Many of them almost cried. I gave the audience everything I had to give and they connected with that.

So, in the future I am just going to pour my soul into my performances and not worry about what people will think of me. If I am brave and try to be my most authentic self then I won't have to worry about impressing anyone, because that will happen automatically. 

Corinna had a poloroid camera just like the one in the video. :) I think this is a great example of a safe place.

So there you have it. I poured my soul into this post and now it for you to do what you will with it. I have done all I can and even if only one person connects with it, I have done my job.

Courage. Love. Drama.

Rachel

Well, I have reached the end of my first semester here. I'm not exactly sure where the time has gone, but I'm pretty sure it's nestled somewhere in my junk drawer with all the German documents I still can't read. My German hasn't improved very much this semester, but I plan to work more on it in the next few months. In the meantime, you can read my poorly edited (barely at all) English writing.

This week has been tech week for the play I am in (which premieres in a couple days!), and I have spent hours upon hours rehearsing. So, in honor of this time I decided to post a behind-the-scenes look at a video I filmed with my best friend/roommate/minion Naomi Kitzis before I left for Germany. It is a video about what mornings are like during finals week (or tech week!). It starts out a bit slow, but it gets good on Wednesday.

What did you think? It was our first ever video, so we learned aaalllllooootttt from filming it. It was hard work; we had to make sure all the camera angles, lighting, and editing were as professional-looking as possible. Plus we had to do some "special effects." This is where the behind-the-scenes look starts getting interesting.

We really wanted to the oatmeal to explode violently in the microwave and the toast to light on fire at the tops when they popped up from the toaster, so we went outside to do some "science". Apparently we aren't very good at science because we did not succeed at anything we tried.

We first attempted to figure out the oatmeal explosion. The only safe exploding materials I could think of was the old school Mentos/carbonation trick. So, I poured Sprite in a glass and chucked a Mento into the liquid...and then a few more. It fizzled a bit, but it didn't even begin to overflow the glass. Apparently, explosion only happens when the container has a small opening. Stumped, we created a Sprite fountain with the remainder of the two-liter and focused our attention on lighting bread on fire.

Now, Naomi is particularly talented at burning bread; there were a couple of times she was supposed to toast bread crumbs in the oven but they ended up black and smoking. (To her credit she bakes fantastic muffins.) So, we thought we had this one in the bag.

We wanted to be careful not to kill the toaster or light the house on fire (in that order of priority of course), and we also didn't want to use lighter fluid. I remembered my sister Katie learned in culinary school that sugar is very flammable if you leave it too long on the stove, so you really have to pay attention when melting it. Well, holding a flame directly on sugar is much hotter than letting sit in a pan, right? So, we poured some sugar on a piece of bread and applied fire directly to it. Nothing happened. Perhaps there was a small thread of smoke that unfurled, but if there was it was not particularly gratifying.

We experimented with a few other things before we pulled out the lighter fluid to see if it was even possible to light the bread on fire. I have decided that if there is ever a fire in the kitchen I am just going to throw bread on it because it is inflammable. Fire fighters should have cannons to shoot it into burning buildings.

So, with heavy hearts and broken dreams of flaming toast we settled on trying to make smoke billow out of the toaster. We took the toaster outside and plugged it in, cranking the knob to the highest setting. Every time the toast popped up we pushed it down again, until it looked like we had a bonfire--minus the fire for the aforementioned reasons. We toasted that bread for about 20 minutes. When we finally dumped it out of the toaster it looked like a charcoal briquette. 

And then there was the wine and cereal scene...that was...fun? We didn't want to buy wine, so we used grape juice and put it in an old wine bottle. The faces I made when eating the cereal required no acting. Grape juice and cereal is DISGUSTING. Yuck. Ew. My tastebuds are revolting just thinking of the cloying soggy sweetness.

Speaking of nasty--the pizza. We had recently had too much pizza, so we didn't want to order an entire one and have to eat it (plus all the other food we made while filming). I picked up an empty box from Pizza Hut and two pieces of pizza from Casey's; their pizza is is perfect for filming day-old food with because that is what it looks and tastes like. I tried my best not to swallow the bites I took from it.

Then there was the messy kitchen. We decided we didn't want to have to clean the kitchen after filming, so we made the counters messy and shot the video in reverse order, gradually cleaning it. I have to admit, right now my room kind of looks like the kitchen did...but I'm going to clean it after I post this!

So, there you go! Now you know how difficult filming a simple little five minute video can be. Thank you to Rebekah Strand for helping with some of the filming! The first few shots we did were tricky (we filmed Friday first) and required lots of time.

We want to do more filming when I get back (I have soooooo many ideas), and we have started writing a little web series that we would like to shoot some day. But in the meantime I am going to try to survive tech week. I'm super excited for the play!

I'm so proud of our little production and I have really enjoyed acting/playing cello in it...but that is for another post. 

courage.love.drama

Rachel