20100222 空

這個過年，學到的課題是「空」。
怎樣放鬆，怎樣放空。

整個過年，從我回到家那天開始算，我一路忙了11天。
過年前忙著幫家裡打掃；過年後忙著拍照。

好像，所有的時間，都不是自己的。
都在幫別人忙。

非常累

這樣，也強迫自己放空。
休息的時間已經夠少了，就不要浪費時間。
所以，腦袋終於停機了。

停機了一個過年，腦袋有比較清明一點。
但身體的累還在，
不知道要持續多久.......

20100209 滿

最近，很滿

不只行程，連心裡都很滿。

每天再實驗室裡緊繃了快10個小時之後，到市區練團，又在緊繃了3～4小時。

等到半夜才回到家。

躺在床上，輾轉反側，聽著外面狗狗進不了家門的哀號，卻怎麼都睡不好。

明明腦袋很累，卻睡不著。

整天腦袋都不想轉，就想放空一整天，但卻有一堆又一堆的事情必需要完成。

真的好累......

跟小朋友們的互動也是。

很想進去，但中間卻有著年齡跟成長背景的隔閡。

他們說得我聽不太懂，我說得他們沒興趣。

每次都在揣摩，好累......

過完年回來，一定要恢復運動。

把身體搞累一點，也許就睡得著了吧......

20100127 拾穗

這是我想到的下年製作標題。

想法是米勒的『拾穗』。

米勒在『拾穗』裡，用『拾穗』這個動作，

表現出農民對收穫的感謝，與收成不好鄰居的互助精神。

而這跟聲子的成長歷程差不多。

從早期靠別人支援、協助才能完成演出，到現在可以獨立進行製作，

這裡也在慢慢成長。

而這樣的成長，除了感謝背後提供支援的行政團隊與外援，

還要感謝觀眾的支持。

所以，用『拾穗』這樣彎腰的意象，表達對觀眾以及所有支持者的感謝。

不過啊，提案已經截止了XD

20100116 The Rain City

這是座水做的城市，
我們一群人，在水中，緩緩前進。

宜蘭蠻美的。
跟花蓮台東的農村景緻，還有台北的富麗繁華不同。
在繁華與純樸間取得平衡，有現代的農村美感。
唯一想complain的，大概就是紅綠燈太多這點吧XD

這次天公不太作美，去之後就瘋狂下雨下到回來，
這次又只有簡單瓜皮，所以騎起來超刺激，隨時要擔心會不會打滑或是摔水溝。

民宿很精緻，真的要大推一下。
我們一到老闆就給我們熱熱的洛神陳皮茶，超甘心。
泡完溫泉還有熱熱的紅棗粉圓，超照顧的。

寄件者 20100116~17 雨都社遊

寄件者 20100116~17 雨都社遊

外觀跟內裝都精彩。

宜蘭小吃跟台南有的比。
不過宜蘭的家常居多，台南則是小吃佔優勢。
羅東夜市跟東門夜市各有千秋，
大推路旁的雞肉串！

雖然這次沒逛到什麼地方，
但社遊嘛，大家一起比較重要，
至少不是待著一整天沒事可做。
有一起玩，有玩得開心，就好啦。

民宿前大合照，少了我跟劉勁志

寄件者 20100116~17 雨都社遊

20100108 諸事不順

今年一開頭就這麼不順，很恐怖。

先是突然決定要報paper，
再來paper太難差點看不完，
再來medium疑似污染，可能整批細胞都不能用，
最後seminar不順。

趕快回復啊

20091229 多事的年尾

今年的尾巴真的很不順。

身邊的人一個一個離開原本所屬的團體。

有些人，有話不願意說清楚，悶在心裡聲悶氣。

唉，今年到底怎麼了？

Martin Luther King, Jr. - I Have a Dream

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languished in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. And so we've come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

In a sense we've come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the "unalienable Rights" of "Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness." It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note, insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds."

But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. And so, we've come to cash this check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice.

We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of Now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. And those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. And there will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people, who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice: In the process of gaining our rightful place, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again, we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.

The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. And they have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom.

We cannot walk alone.

And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead.

We cannot turn back.

There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their self-hood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating: "For Whites Only." We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until "justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream."¹

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. And some of you have come from areas where your quest -- quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive. Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed.

Let us not wallow in the valley of despair, I say to you today, my friends.

And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal."

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of "interposition" and "nullification" -- one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; "and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together."²

This is our hope, and this is the faith that I go back to the South with.

With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith, we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

And this will be the day -- this will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning:

My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing.

Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim's pride,

From every mountainside, let freedom ring!

And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true.

And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire.

Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York.

Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania.

Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado.

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California.

But not only that:

Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia.

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee.

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi.

From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual:

                Free at last! Free at last!

                Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!