Hey! Tony! That was me who gave you props for the 3b tutorial! Yay!
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Highs:
* Huge success with a number of unexpected things: headstands, the
beginning fundamentals of club passing, full-on ball passing (5b, 6b, 7b
Ultimates – WHAT!?), a fairly solid 3b cascade, stealing, and about 20
catches of a not-horrifying-looking 3 club run.
* Brittany Walsh’s handbalancing workshop. I was way out of my league with
this one, but learned so much about movement and body awareness from
Brittany. In addition to the awesome workshop, she spent a significant
chunk of time with me and Erik Tye answering questions and doing some
coaching. An overwhelmingly positive experience for me, and I feel
optimistic that some of my goals in this area are, potentially, attainable.
* Club passing with Ryan Bradburn, who must have the patience of Job. We
laughed our faces off.
* Watching 5 jugglers work on the Shamrock pattern. In my tiny family
room. After drinking copious amounts of alcohol. Variation Sham-5 gets
particular props. I’m eagerly anticipating variation Sham-WOW! Also, it’s
impressive how far my ceiling fan can send an airborne club upon collision.
* Greg Owsley honing in on my anxiety pitfalls and challenging me by, in a
matter of seconds, putting juggling bags in my hands, quickly telling me
when and where to throw them, and diving in without giving me time to
think. No one has ever pushed me so hard in such a subtle and effective
manner before – and in the most positive, unanticipated way possible. Free
your mind and the rest will follow, yes?
* Club work with Galen & Ella/The Institute of Jugglology. Rock ‘n’ Roll
Zen masters, mentors, thinkers, doers, teachers. Thank you infinitely for
such long discussions about meditative principles of juggling, practice
and performance method, collaborative work and learning theory.
* Having a house full of jugglers for the weekend. I’m not sure you could
convince me at this time that there is anything better.
* The completely perfect weather. Mad props, Weather.
Lows:
* The STL Rock ‘n’ Roll Marathon made driving in South City on Sunday
morning an abject disaster. I rerouted our caravan through downtown and
back onto westbound 40, but seriously. WTF, St. Louis. Some signage or
other information about this COMPLETELY IMPASSABLE EVENT might have been,
you know, helpful.
* My incredibly crappy accordion playing on the Renegade. WTF. So
aggravating when I have such dramatically off nights.
* Not getting to pass or really work on my juggling in any significant way
with Thom. After the summer, I was eager to share what I have learned and
get feedback. Alas, it was not to be this time. Thom, cut off your hair so
you’ll stop being so damn popular.
* The dry, cracking skin on my right thumb ended up cut in four places
from crappy club collections. Ouch.
* Driving the Land Yacht, although I am grateful for the lend and ability
to tote an entire car full of jugglers and props around with ease.
* Coming back home to an empty house.
Goals:
* Keep all my teeth. This was the big one. I did take one significant club
hit to my right front tooth (mouth open, too!), but nothing seems to be
amiss. CHECK.
* Pass clubs. A ludicrous goal after owning clubs for less than a month
and being a marginal 3b juggler, I admit. But, Ryan and I worked up to and
passed 4 clubs! Next fest: the full on real deal. I’m confident this will
happen. CHECK.
* Ask as many jugglers as possible about how they started juggling. The
stories were inspiring. CHECK.
* Learn, learn, learn, learn from as many people as were willing to teach
me. CHECK!
* Be a solid crash space host. Everyone seemed to have a good time, so I’m
going with CHECK.
* Get more sleep than I did in KC. Considering I was coming into this fest
on 5 hours of sleep in two days (Wed/Thurs), I started this goal off on
the wrong foot from the get-go. EPIC FAIL. Still, totally worth it. I
didn’t want to miss anything, even at 5 a.m.
Crushes:
* Crashers Jade, Erik, Ryan, D. Wang, Jared, Galen, Ella, Greg and
visitors Just & Kayla. Couldn’t have had a better group if we tried.
* The Hopeless Throwmantics. BROMANCE OF THE CENTURY.
* Greg and his sixth sense about how to upend my blind dedication to
precision and comprehension. Mind: Blown. [A huge breakthrough!]
* My super swell bandmate and evil twin, Joe Rohlman. You are, and always
will be, Spot On.
* Thom, for giving me this greatest of gifts. And other miscellany.
Banes:
* So. Tired.
* My less-than-stellar upper body and core strength. Come on, body!
Handstands will be awesome once we step it up in the workout department, I
just know it.
* Driving the Land Yacht.
* Lousy accordion playing, marginal singing on Renegade. See “Lows.”
Surprises:
* Being able to walk into Home Depot at 4 p.m. on Friday and buy 1”
irrigation tubing for $.23/ft without any difficulty. I had been
forewarned that irrigation tubing would be difficult to find and would
cost me about $50/100 ft roll. Jade made me two beautiful, gigantic hoops
for a grand total of, like, $10/hoop.
* How not sore I was on Sunday, relative to the absolutely ridiculous
things I did with my body on Saturday. Cool!
* Feeling the flow of partner ball juggling for the first time and getting
goosebumps.
* Just giving me a set of five Soviets at the end of the fest. W00t!
* Jared unloading my dishwasher!
* The unbelievable number of unexplainable bruises covering my body.
* Nadine spending almost the entire weekend with a camera mounted to a
bike helmet on her head. I hope the time lapse is totally worth it!
* So many strangers knowing who I was…!?
* Randomly ending up in a conversation about Fourier transforms and the
potential for building a juggling pattern using the spectral analysis of a
set of Russians with Dan Barron and D. Wang. WHAT.
* Dinner with D. Wang and Michael Karas! Neat!
* Post-fest, slow dancing and singing the chorus to "Candle In The Wind"
with some random dude who appeared tableside by Brittany, Curt and Thom
while I was in the restroom. It's still terribly unclear what was going
on, there. But, you know, what the hell.
* Feeling like I have, maybe, earned the right to call myself a juggler.