On Beyond Conversation!  

  A few months ago, we started tossing ideas around–what else can wild-eyed middle-aged suburbanites get into? We came up with several possibilities–stuff like experimenting with art, theater (with or without an audience), music, dance, drumming, ritual–any legal means for inducing altered states and changing our experience of reality–more writing and publishing, video and film, Internet stuff, making money, self and interpersonal exploration, training for the Chicago Marathon, forming a “practical ideas and solutions” brainstorming circle, social/political action, occasionally being someone else’s audience, occasionally seeking out remarkable environments, spawning Autonomous Zones, transforming our pocket of the Universe into somewhere even more conducive to creativity, energy, experimentation, pleasure, fun–and ourselves into creatures with extraordinary capacities for exploiting the break we got of getting to be alive now, in a time when there are more resources available than ever before.

 We always try to keep “idea” and “action” in the same sentence. Hence the genesis of “Bad Art Night,” a strange and fantastic experience. Paint gunned across the deck, bursting against an 8' x 4' something or other, producing the work, “Saute the Minced Parrot and Onions, Add Heavy Cream and Chill.” The “Is this really safe?” rush of standing within a few feet of blazing kerosene-soaked rags crucified on chicken wire strung between rusty poles, (the first in an infinite series of fire sculptures), accompanied by the eerie din of yelping atavists armed with drums and shakers. Not to mention the spontaneous creation of a myriad of remarkable 3-D pieces, some of which are now on display in the Time-Warped Abode Gallery. This event was created by people whose neighbors and co-workers most likely would describe as “regular folks”–not a professional artist or even an unusually talented amateur among us!

 Soon, we’ll be trying a “Bad Theater Night. We aren’t sure exactly how to make this work, but we have a couple of ideas for approaches. First, we’ll clear a stage, maybe in the futon room, maybe outside on the deck, whatever makes sense in the moment. We might warm up with some scenes from Tennessee Williams plays. (Ah feel like uh cat on uh hot tin reuf!) Then we’ll do some improv–attendees will bring, or be prepared to concoct on the spot, little situation outlines–like maybe some story lines from out of some of my cases or some cubicle drama–toss in some foreign accent requirements, etc., and we’ll cast ‘em and act ‘em right on the spot. We’ll have plenty of good stuff–cowboy hats, chain mail, any stray crowns you might have lying about, feather boas, swords, etc.–to add to the spectacle.  And a big bag of rotten tomatoes, of course.

 Recently, we experimented with headphones and deep, subliminal, suggestive audio mind expansion equipment. A strange and fantastic event–we were up half the night messing with different CDs and comparing experiences in between.

 What’s next? At least one good drum and dance circle night–we did that last year with great success–a bunch of people who hadn’t touched a rattle in four-plus decades shaking and pounding away around a blazing firepot. “Bad Music Night” is a must–everyone can bring something to bang on or plunk and words to old AM hits for the group to sing along with. We have a couple of “altered states” exploration ideas–didgeridoo-induced stuff, guided meditation stuff, etc. that we just have to try. More bad art and bad theater, of course. More fire sculptures. At least one big dance party. Maybe a kind of giant juke box thing–set up a big sound system and play everyone’s idea of the most uplifting songs, other worldly songs, sexiest songs, etc. And we have to do some kind of poetry reading thing, with bongos. Maybe something with giant puppets and kites?! And then more bad art. . . .

 And there’s the Movie Project. We’ve just started meeting about that. We’re going to make some weird shorts, maybe some propaganda, artsy stuff, humor, special effects, space alien things–our own music, scripts, everything. We have a big screen video projector to watch our rushes on.

 So what’s the point? To have something cool to do–and to create opportunities  for relationships based on something more than roles or geography or mutual dependency. We think camaraderie  and deep friendship thrive on common projects–shared creations–intertwined creative processes. We also think that unorganized, spontaneous play is right at the top of desirable human experiences–and it’s damn rare among people over 18 months old in our ever more organized, commercialized culture. We’re reclaiming the art of entertainment from TV and Cinemax, joining with an ever-expanding circle of others our own age and creating Ragged Joy!

 Why not join us? Drop us an email.