January 2008 Archives

The weekend was really rough.  There was all the driving which was pretty unpleasant especially because it rained most of the way to LA except when it snowed.  Then there was the service itself which was good because a lot of people had really great things to say about Ottavio.  The funeral place itself was kind of creepy because there was a little booth that you could step into and record memories for the family and throughout the whole service there were monitors that showed pictures of Ottavio floating over a cloudy backdrop.  But dominating the room was Ottavio's ladder and an empty pair of his spats.  The whole thing didn't really hit me until I saw those two things.  Felicity got up and said a few words and afterwards we went to his parents house where everybody ate and watched videos of him performing.  

Sunday we spent in LA with Mara and Duke, taking time to learn a little Thai massage and eat lots of food.  It was the Italian in us I guess looking for comfort in food.  

But it is strange to be back and working on Clown bits and things for school.  Strange to act like this is something you get over.  I have been working with Master Lu Yi to get better at acrobatics and handstands.  Felicity and I  have been conditioning and working harder than ever, but my mind has pulled back a little.  Is this the kind of life that I want to have?  Seeing what it takes to be world class (which according to master Lu Yi I will never be), and how much work it takes to get  rejected from Cirque or Big Apple or even Ringling begs the question, is it worth it?  This is what I have dedicated my life to.  Constant rejection followed by a very conditional paycheck followed by what exactly?  

It's that damn death and perspective thing.  Ottavio was a great performer, but the life took so much out of him.  Is this the price of happiness?  Is this the price of art?   

When Nourbol learned about Ottavio his reply was, "that is sad, but now we train."  He perhaps understands better than I.

The circus center put up an alter in remembrance of Ottavio.  Since few of our pictures (and none of the Clown without a Circus) posters made it out here, I am going to bring the crying gag he made me.  I haven't gotten to use it yet but know that I will soon.

Here is another picture that Jen (Ottavio's business partner) sent around:

Damn if that boy didn't know how to get moody circus pictures taken of him.

When I tried to engage my wife in a coversation about this tragedy of an article, she informed me that she could just not do it.  

Really?   Lightsaberes at number four?  I call bullshit.

Felicity and I are still reeling from the news of our friend Ottavio's death. He was a great clown. We miss him.  

There was a memorial of a sort in Chicago that I wish we could have gone to.  It is hard being away because there is no ritual or gathering to celebrate/commemorate his passing.  Perhaps the memorial will be in San Diego and we can go to that.  But the strangest thing is that Ottavio lived in San Francisco before we did and people here knew him.  But they knew him from here and not from there.  And the people who knew him from there are still there, except for us.  So it is a little weird.  

It is also difficult to have this omnipresent sadness and still try to lead a normal life.  A life  where you don't casually drop into every conversation, "yeah my friend died the other day and it sucks."

But it really sucks anyway.  

    

Dude, WTF?

Circus School started again and has been kicking our asses.  We are taking a class with Lu Yi who is kind of like Yoda when it comes to Acrobatics.  He is kind of like Nourbal Miermanov but with a better accent and more inscrutable advice ("You clowns funny.  Now, no funny, we make art.").  The clowning classes have been noodley since we got back because we have been waiting for Jeff to get back from one more week with Corteo.  But we seem to be following  some sort of curriculum now.  

But the January Blahs are in full swing.  It is generally nice outside, but for some reason it is hard to get motivated and the thought of being a performer for the rest of my life suddenly seems like a suspect goal.  I went to a gig in San Jose last night, which was pretty fun, but left me feeling a bit empty.  Maybe because I was just part of a crowd of Paparazzi reporters.  It wasn't until we were able to leave out little 'reporter pen' and interact with the guests that it started to feel really.  I got to shout out to passers-by, "what is your position on unicorns?" 

A bit of absurdity always helps.  Speaking of which I will be recording my first video profile for a 'scene' website in San Francisco.  I am going to be their rock and roll hipster guy.  

Yep.  Me:

Rock 'n Roll indeed.