(no subject)
i don't know what question this is answering. Maybe "why do you think you could die now and still feel you have lived a fuller life than anyone?" or "where did you learn to copy on both sides?" or "describe your experiences in the field of elf-promotion"
This summer I, with a patient and otherwise remarkable companion and more than a dozen smelly and dirty children and teenagers, wrote a musical. Additionally, we produced, directed, and starred in this homegrown production celebrating our summer at Circle Pines Center, small hippy camp in rural Southwestern Michigan that acts as haven for quirky vegetarian hippy kids and others seeking an accepting and enlightening community.
As a ninth-year veteran of the camp and this production, known to CPCers as “The Folk Opera,” I, and my friend, Natasha, took on the formidable task of constructing a musical about the camp, full of in-jokes no one outside the camps 235 acres would ever understand. Basing our story on the Disney archetype of the restless youth trapped in the confines of a suffocating life, who then escapes to find adventure in “the great wide somewhere” and encounters characters and obstacles that then change the hero’s path. All of course is accompanied by a trusty wacky sidekick, a menacing - but at-the-core insecure - villain, and ridiculously catchy songs. And so Natasha and I set into our lair of the camp office with eager hearts and puns aplenty and emerged almost two weeks later with baggy eyes, wracked brains, only a few scarce signs of attempted strangulation around our necks, and a fine sense of completion in the 26 pages of Beauty and the Beast jokes and shameless self-promotion (note: elf-promotion is a funnier concept. Look to do activities involving elf-promotion).
Through unbearably hot 2-5 hour rehearsals where we blocked, ran lines, led impromptu fits of out own blend of “free ballet” and coerced the campers to “please not quit the show the day before our sole performance.” It’s impossible to detail all of the things I learned in these rehearsals and the production process, but I did gain expertise in making a fool of myself for the sake of getting kids to be louder or wackier or more present on stage. I watched the way uncooperative kids can really shine when they are given the chance to be a star and the funniest kid in the show. I learned that the booty shake, the hip thrust, and the shoulder shimmy are three of the easiest laughs you can get. And, above all, I perfected the art of double-sided copying.
In the end, the show went up flawlessly and better than I believed it could be. Not only was it a personal triumph, I think a lot of the campers in the show got to see for the first time what they were capable of creating. After a lot of dreadfully hot, long, and frustrating rehearsals for everyone in the cast, it was such a reward to see what could be done with a group of creative, funny, dedicated, and excited campers. It was amazing to have that sort of perfect closure on my experience as a camper and it inspired me to apply for the job of a counselor next year so that I can pass on that experience to campers.
This summer I, with a patient and otherwise remarkable companion and more than a dozen smelly and dirty children and teenagers, wrote a musical. Additionally, we produced, directed, and starred in this homegrown production celebrating our summer at Circle Pines Center, small hippy camp in rural Southwestern Michigan that acts as haven for quirky vegetarian hippy kids and others seeking an accepting and enlightening community.
As a ninth-year veteran of the camp and this production, known to CPCers as “The Folk Opera,” I, and my friend, Natasha, took on the formidable task of constructing a musical about the camp, full of in-jokes no one outside the camps 235 acres would ever understand. Basing our story on the Disney archetype of the restless youth trapped in the confines of a suffocating life, who then escapes to find adventure in “the great wide somewhere” and encounters characters and obstacles that then change the hero’s path. All of course is accompanied by a trusty wacky sidekick, a menacing - but at-the-core insecure - villain, and ridiculously catchy songs. And so Natasha and I set into our lair of the camp office with eager hearts and puns aplenty and emerged almost two weeks later with baggy eyes, wracked brains, only a few scarce signs of attempted strangulation around our necks, and a fine sense of completion in the 26 pages of Beauty and the Beast jokes and shameless self-promotion (note: elf-promotion is a funnier concept. Look to do activities involving elf-promotion).
Through unbearably hot 2-5 hour rehearsals where we blocked, ran lines, led impromptu fits of out own blend of “free ballet” and coerced the campers to “please not quit the show the day before our sole performance.” It’s impossible to detail all of the things I learned in these rehearsals and the production process, but I did gain expertise in making a fool of myself for the sake of getting kids to be louder or wackier or more present on stage. I watched the way uncooperative kids can really shine when they are given the chance to be a star and the funniest kid in the show. I learned that the booty shake, the hip thrust, and the shoulder shimmy are three of the easiest laughs you can get. And, above all, I perfected the art of double-sided copying.
In the end, the show went up flawlessly and better than I believed it could be. Not only was it a personal triumph, I think a lot of the campers in the show got to see for the first time what they were capable of creating. After a lot of dreadfully hot, long, and frustrating rehearsals for everyone in the cast, it was such a reward to see what could be done with a group of creative, funny, dedicated, and excited campers. It was amazing to have that sort of perfect closure on my experience as a camper and it inspired me to apply for the job of a counselor next year so that I can pass on that experience to campers.