Self-insertion and its quandaries

I have never conceived of my Shepard as myself.  Perhaps an extremely idealized version of myself in some ways - the “this is what I would choose if I were in this situation” mentality.  A lot of my personal traits crop up in my Shepard, magnified: the desire to do good, exasperation at ignorance, a carefully held-back desire to knock people’s heads together when they’re being stupid …

But my Shepard was not me.  There was something fundamentally not-me about her, and I thought that was one of the reasons I loved her so much: she was me, and not-me, and a powerful woman to whom, in some backwards way, since I ‘made’ her, I could look up.

And then I went to IMC this week [a few weeks ago] (the International Music Camp), where I interned with the drama instructors, and the coordinator described me thusly: “someone who has a wonderful “what more can I do?” attitude.”  I was touched, since I hadn’t felt like I was doing much more than what I considered my job.

I was in my car, listening to “M4 (Part II)”, by Faunts, which plays at the end of the first Mass Effect, and which always gets me thinking about my ME Shepard OTP (which is Shakarian in case you’ve been under a rock :P).  Mass Effect, and Commander Shepard, and all the other characters in this vast amazing universe, often get me thinking about life and its meaning and our place in the universe …

and then those sentences popped into my head.  ”What more can I do?” … and then, “This is my job.”

I realized that those two sentences described my Shepard perfectly. She sees it as her job to do everything in her power to make the universe a better place.  And I sort of feel like that’s my job, too, as an artist and as a human being.

Suddenly I had universes colliding, and I had a moment of mental vertigo. Commander Shepard - my Commander Shepard - was never really meant to be me. But she is me, in a way.  In many ways.

Or, perhaps, she is a woman whom I would like to resemble in some ways as I grow older and mature.

I think we see ourselves in all well-crafted characters, and so I can’t say I’m terribly surprised that I’ve started seeing Shepard in myself, and myself in Shepard.    But the way it happened … was just so … backwards.

Alright, musings over.  (Not really.  There will be/have been more.  Just not here.)

VISI, day 16

Another late night means another morning post.

Yesterday was mainly uneventful, though I sent an email or two that needed sending.  After posting about Friday (in which I forgot a story, which I shall have to tell in a minute or two), I hung out for a bit on the Internet, then did laundry.  I also made lunch.  After lunch, I scurried off to participate in the art and conflict resolution workshop, which was interesting if perhaps a bit esoteric.  We examined art and conflict resolution through the lens of the four ancient alchemic elements (fire, air, water, earth).  This actually wasn't that weird as it might sound - it was really just categorical names for passion, mind, emotion and the world, all of which come into play in conflicts (and therefore their resolution).  There was not a lot talked about that I didn't already know, instinctively or not, but there were interesting bits and bobs tossed around.

I have been thinking about typing out all my notes and posting them here, as attachments.  I don't know if that would interest people.  I would scan them when I got home, but I worry a bit that they would be illegible to other eyes.  I write well, but ... not that well.  Anyway.  If you read my blog, and you'd be interested in reading notes from lectures, or coachings, or performance psychology/Alexander Technique sessions ... give me a shout in the comments (here or Facebook or Twitter or whatever).

After the workshop, I went back to dorm to get ready for the Schubertiade - an evening of music and song and fun, in fancy dresses, with alcohol.  Except I couldn't have any alcohol.  sigh.  I wore my bright-red grad dress, which was a serious hit - I was told by a complete stranger that I looked exquisite, and several students of the VISI program thought I looked really good, too.  As I mentioned on my Twitter, though, strangers telling you that you look exquisite are only ever time travellers ... I wonder why someone came to the Schubertiade simply to tell me I looked wonderful?  Hm ...  :P

The VISI singers sang at the beginning and the end of the three-hour concert (Im Abendroth and An die Musik), which was a good way to open and close the evening.  The first hour was a sort of Schubert 'séance', where the artistic director was purportedly from another planet (not the only time traveller, it would seem), and they had technology enough to bring people who had passed from this dimension back for brief periods of time ... except there wasn't good enough reception in the hall, so we had to settle for someone in the audience channeling Schubert.  This resulted in hilarity as no fewer than ten people claimed to be Schubert, but they were winnowed out (all plants, of course, from the Songfire Theatre program) by means of a Schuberti-off (yeah they went there) with Schubert-testing questions.  The remaining Schubert gave some small tidbits of information in between performances of Schubert Lieder, and it was an amusing time, if a bit boring by the end of it.  It could have been much more interesting, somehow ... 

The second hour was the Canadian-content portion, and I was not certain whether or not it would prove interesting ... but I needn't have worried.  Many of the composers and poets of the repertoire were actually there that night, which was an experience I had never really had before - not just applauding the performer, but actually applauding the composer and the poet, sitting right there in the audience.  Very neat.  Plus there was some hilarious repertoire, including a pair of love songs written by a composer-poet couple who had gotten married the day before, and the songs had been performed by the same duo performing them that night as a wedding gift.  The first song was called Something Like That, and was this wonderful little musing on "you're beautiful ... or something like that, anyway".  It was just so sweet.  The second song was called Hanky Panky, and was an ... well, I'm not sure how to describe it, but you can only get away with that sort of a song if you're over 60, which Stephen Chatman is.  It had the house rolling on the floor laughing, it was so funny and risqué.  Not even trying to hide it, either.  There was also a performance by Chincilia Bartoli and Sumi Jaw ... yes, yes, I know, it's Cecilia and Jo, but not in this case - this was a pair of singers who laid on a table with their heads to the audience and had dresses on the top half of their heads and sunglasses on their chins.  Take a minute to imagine that.  Yeah.

The third hour was a performance of Brahms' Liebeslieder, a set of 18 songs about love and all sorts of little tangents, all performed by the same quartet.  It was a lovely way to end the evening.  I walked home after (the theatre was on-campus), and basically went to bed.  

Today is gray and rainy, so I will not be going to the beach after church - instead, I will play games and read, and perhaps write, and maybe even have a nap.  There is a premiere performance this evening of art songs written this week, so I will find my way over to that for eight o'clock, but from 11.30 till then, I shall relax.  What a concept!