We have a new routine. Our plan was to start trying it out on people today. But today we got an exciting phone call...
We get to walk horses in a Carnival parade!!!
On a whim, we responded to an ad in the back of the Gambit calling for horse walkers. When we went to sign up, the 5 pages of poster board were all filled to overflowing. We marked out a tiny spot and wrote in our names. We thought for sure, as we were on the end of a very long list, they'd never get to our names... but they did, and today we get to both walk in a parade and get paid. Two very exciting things. (We'll Twitter which parade once we know ... click the link in the andjuggling.com sidebar to go to our Twitter.)
Speaking of finances, I haven't done the figuring lately, but we're feeling much better about our situation as the end of this month approaches. Thanks to our generous donors, we hope that writing and performing radio plays can become a supplement to our income... if our stories are worth a donation of even a dollar, and a few dozen people listen (so tell your friends if you liked the radio play), they can help us stay on target with our budget. We plan to roll out a new radio play once per month or so. Big donors ($10+) will get access to several in a row.
In addition, Stina will get a sizable chunk of tax refund, and our new busking routine should net us bigger hats than our old routine did.
Wish us luck!
Friday, February 20, 2009
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
A Gras Weekend
Parades everywhere.
I suppose we haven't made it clear, and if you never live in New Orleans, you would never know. Mardi Gras is not the day before Ash Wednesday. Mardi Gras is a season. Beginning at least 3 weekends before the day itself, New Orleans celebrates with regular parades and festivals (I suppose we know it as Carnival). And by regular, I mean that the library closes an hour early every day this week to accomodate the parades.
Everybody loves the parades well enough that the same people will tell us again and again "THIS is the parade you need to see." A few days after that one, they say "THIS is the parade you HAVE to see." And they disagree. And some of them will consider one parade famous, and others another, and they may not concede any credibility to another's claim.
Well, we really just figured this out, so we've been seeing parade after parade after parade. We saw two on Saturday and one on Sunday and then I said "STOP" before the 2nd one on Sunday. I felt paraded out. It's more stressful than you might think. Suddenly, you're pelted with hundreds of beads, which are shiny and bright, and you want them because everybody else wants them, and then you have them, and then your neck is too heavy to hold up, and you fall to the ground, and the children scurry to your prone corpse and loot the body.
Sunday was all about that. We went to Family Gras (Fat Family - very Supersize Me) to volunteer with Amia* (names have been changed to protect the innocent) at the Al Copeland Foundation booth (which is raising money for cancer research). While there we saw a genre of performers that I had no idea existed - pre-fame pop singers. Hilary Duff-esque, Justin Timberlake-esque... I had no idea people could be small time tweeny boppers. Stina also realized and told me that there was a legend on stage. It was true. None other than Monkees hottie Davy Jones performed some of the greatest songs of one of the earliest and greatest made-up bands. WOOT!
Going back in time, on Saturday we met the muppetiest dog in the city. His name is Bailey, and he's one quarter Shitzu, three quarters Maltese, 100% Jim Henson. He lives with Matt, against whom and whose friends Stina and I dominated game day. (Settlers: Stina 1st Place, Brendan 2nd, Munchkin: Brendan 1st Place, Stina 2nd, Scrabble: Team Brendan and Stina 1st Place, Lunch Money: Stina 1st Place, Brendan 2nd)
I suppose we haven't made it clear, and if you never live in New Orleans, you would never know. Mardi Gras is not the day before Ash Wednesday. Mardi Gras is a season. Beginning at least 3 weekends before the day itself, New Orleans celebrates with regular parades and festivals (I suppose we know it as Carnival). And by regular, I mean that the library closes an hour early every day this week to accomodate the parades.
Everybody loves the parades well enough that the same people will tell us again and again "THIS is the parade you need to see." A few days after that one, they say "THIS is the parade you HAVE to see." And they disagree. And some of them will consider one parade famous, and others another, and they may not concede any credibility to another's claim.
Well, we really just figured this out, so we've been seeing parade after parade after parade. We saw two on Saturday and one on Sunday and then I said "STOP" before the 2nd one on Sunday. I felt paraded out. It's more stressful than you might think. Suddenly, you're pelted with hundreds of beads, which are shiny and bright, and you want them because everybody else wants them, and then you have them, and then your neck is too heavy to hold up, and you fall to the ground, and the children scurry to your prone corpse and loot the body.
Sunday was all about that. We went to Family Gras (Fat Family - very Supersize Me) to volunteer with Amia* (names have been changed to protect the innocent) at the Al Copeland Foundation booth (which is raising money for cancer research). While there we saw a genre of performers that I had no idea existed - pre-fame pop singers. Hilary Duff-esque, Justin Timberlake-esque... I had no idea people could be small time tweeny boppers. Stina also realized and told me that there was a legend on stage. It was true. None other than Monkees hottie Davy Jones performed some of the greatest songs of one of the earliest and greatest made-up bands. WOOT!
Going back in time, on Saturday we met the muppetiest dog in the city. His name is Bailey, and he's one quarter Shitzu, three quarters Maltese, 100% Jim Henson. He lives with Matt, against whom and whose friends Stina and I dominated game day. (Settlers: Stina 1st Place, Brendan 2nd, Munchkin: Brendan 1st Place, Stina 2nd, Scrabble: Team Brendan and Stina 1st Place, Lunch Money: Stina 1st Place, Brendan 2nd)
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Thoughts about performance style, and pictures
First off, a great big shout-out to those who have donated! We really weren’t sure what to expect when we added that button, and are now reminded what generous friends we have. Thank you so much!
Yesterday we got together with a juggler we met on Sunday in the French Quarter. He is a traveling street performer. He can juggle pins and fire and handle devil sticks and do this while balancing precariously on a balancing board thing, with witty banter to boot. He also does magic. He approached us on Sunday when we were out performing to see if we knew of any juggling clubs in the city. We don’t, but we met up with him to play around and are going to try and regularly meet to see if we can help establish a juggling club with locals who could carry it on after we leave, and after our new friend leaves in April.
Ever since we met up with him, I have been feeling like not only do we not have the skill set other performers have, but I, at least, do not really have a desire to learn the witty banter and the hat lines. It doesn’t feel natural to me and my personality. I’ve never considered myself very quick on my feet when it comes to saying clever things in conversation, nor good at making jokes. I have a love for performing, but express it by singing in choirs or musicals, or by singing solos at my parents’ church. I have a love for entertaining, but express it by being goofy for my sister until she laughs so hard she cries.
It’s no surprise to me, though, that street performance was going to be way outside my comfort zone. I knew that, but felt and still feel that the challenge of it is totally worthwhile. But the worth, for me, comes from brightening a person’s day a bit, surprising them with a spontaneous and whimsical story, and the stories I am given in return, like the drunk man who stopped to have a conversation with us and told us we were the greatest. And yes, it also comes from someone appreciatively giving us $1 or, even better, $5 after a good story. But even if we don’t get a tip, I’m still glad we told that story and that those people stopped and listened to it.
The problem then, for me, is that for us to really be making a livable income with our busking, we would have to change our performance so much. We would have to make up or borrow all the clever things to say, both to get people to stop in the first place and to get them to give us money, and we would have to really build a show. Maybe I would feel more like doing this if I felt like we had the skill set to back it up, but we don’t know a lot of juggling tricks or have a real big finish. I feel like I’ve just gotten somewhat decent at three ball juggling, and adding tricks to that is doable, but realistically would take several more months to nail down well enough to include them in a show.
Even if we did have all the skills, I’m still not sure I would want to do that kind of show. It’s entertaining, yes, but not particularly original. Maybe that’s where all this is stemming from. I want to do something original. Our stories feel original. No one else out there is doing it, plus they are different every time we tell one. And maybe there is a way to make more money and still do what I feel we're best at, but I don't know what that is yet.
In addition to musing about what exactly it is we’re doing, as we are so wont to do, we’ve also been up to some fun activities. Game nights, dumpster diving, picnics, radio plays, parades...and here are some pictures from a few of those activities:
Picnic with Aaron and Amalie--I'm stealing their baby!
Krewe de Vieux, fake dollars being handed out
Krewe de Vieux #2, those plastic cups were also handed out
Krewe de Vieux #3, band member
Ah, the parade loot! (and scary red eyes)
Brendan's parade bling
The inexhaustible game of Power Grid
Yesterday we got together with a juggler we met on Sunday in the French Quarter. He is a traveling street performer. He can juggle pins and fire and handle devil sticks and do this while balancing precariously on a balancing board thing, with witty banter to boot. He also does magic. He approached us on Sunday when we were out performing to see if we knew of any juggling clubs in the city. We don’t, but we met up with him to play around and are going to try and regularly meet to see if we can help establish a juggling club with locals who could carry it on after we leave, and after our new friend leaves in April.
Ever since we met up with him, I have been feeling like not only do we not have the skill set other performers have, but I, at least, do not really have a desire to learn the witty banter and the hat lines. It doesn’t feel natural to me and my personality. I’ve never considered myself very quick on my feet when it comes to saying clever things in conversation, nor good at making jokes. I have a love for performing, but express it by singing in choirs or musicals, or by singing solos at my parents’ church. I have a love for entertaining, but express it by being goofy for my sister until she laughs so hard she cries.
It’s no surprise to me, though, that street performance was going to be way outside my comfort zone. I knew that, but felt and still feel that the challenge of it is totally worthwhile. But the worth, for me, comes from brightening a person’s day a bit, surprising them with a spontaneous and whimsical story, and the stories I am given in return, like the drunk man who stopped to have a conversation with us and told us we were the greatest. And yes, it also comes from someone appreciatively giving us $1 or, even better, $5 after a good story. But even if we don’t get a tip, I’m still glad we told that story and that those people stopped and listened to it.
The problem then, for me, is that for us to really be making a livable income with our busking, we would have to change our performance so much. We would have to make up or borrow all the clever things to say, both to get people to stop in the first place and to get them to give us money, and we would have to really build a show. Maybe I would feel more like doing this if I felt like we had the skill set to back it up, but we don’t know a lot of juggling tricks or have a real big finish. I feel like I’ve just gotten somewhat decent at three ball juggling, and adding tricks to that is doable, but realistically would take several more months to nail down well enough to include them in a show.
Even if we did have all the skills, I’m still not sure I would want to do that kind of show. It’s entertaining, yes, but not particularly original. Maybe that’s where all this is stemming from. I want to do something original. Our stories feel original. No one else out there is doing it, plus they are different every time we tell one. And maybe there is a way to make more money and still do what I feel we're best at, but I don't know what that is yet.
In addition to musing about what exactly it is we’re doing, as we are so wont to do, we’ve also been up to some fun activities. Game nights, dumpster diving, picnics, radio plays, parades...and here are some pictures from a few of those activities:
Picnic with Aaron and Amalie--I'm stealing their baby!
Krewe de Vieux, fake dollars being handed out
Krewe de Vieux #2, those plastic cups were also handed out
Krewe de Vieux #3, band member
Ah, the parade loot! (and scary red eyes)
Brendan's parade bling
The inexhaustible game of Power GridWednesday, February 11, 2009
Visit the Website!!!
For those of you who just get an RSS feed of this blog or visit blogspot to get it, go visit our website, http://www.andjuggling.com.
There, in the sidebar, you will find a new feature: The DONATE button! You can donate to us either via paypal or by sending us a check. When you do, we'll give you access to a special feature: our latest Radio Play (as I'm writing this, our ONLY radio play). We accept donations of any size, and there's nothing silly about a carton of eggs ($1.89), a gallon of milk ($4.59), or even a can of kidney beans ($0.50).
So, if you like stories where the bully gets a unique comeuppance, a father has a silly voice, cats get fed, and the flushing of the toilet goes on for a bit too long, donate to keep ...And Juggling online and on the road for a few days longer ($10.45/day).
There, in the sidebar, you will find a new feature: The DONATE button! You can donate to us either via paypal or by sending us a check. When you do, we'll give you access to a special feature: our latest Radio Play (as I'm writing this, our ONLY radio play). We accept donations of any size, and there's nothing silly about a carton of eggs ($1.89), a gallon of milk ($4.59), or even a can of kidney beans ($0.50).
So, if you like stories where the bully gets a unique comeuppance, a father has a silly voice, cats get fed, and the flushing of the toilet goes on for a bit too long, donate to keep ...And Juggling online and on the road for a few days longer ($10.45/day).
Monday, February 9, 2009
More on this past week
Saturday's 3-minute blog was a symptom of accessing internet at 4:42 at the library, which closed at 5pm.
It's been a... busy? ...productive? active week for us.
We've begun running each day for about 10 minutes, and have already seen it get easier.
We've taken on a project that we hope to finish by Wednesday, a 5-minute radio play to submit to the podcast Once Upon a Podcast about an adolescent girl who deals with bullies in a unique way, I call it Imagothen.
We continue to ask ourselves the how and what and why questions of our undertaking. Specifically, after a weekend of both performance and observing other buskers, we wonder what we're doing not as well as they are. We know we need to be more engaging and attract more attention, but we're not really sure how to work that into the skill set that we have.
I've begun to learn a few new tricks... or really, to simply realize that I could do a few new tricks by virtue of being entirely comfortable with my 3-ball juggling. I'm especially proud of how I can bounce the ball off my elbow and keep juggling, as that one seems the flashiest.
We're playing basketball with our next door neighbor, who taught us Hustle (a 3-person game like basketball).
We spent some time lounging in a park with friends, and are looking forward to a weekend of games and parades.
We attended last night's Krewe de Vieux parade. It was every bit as debaucherous as we'd been led to believe (though there was no actual nudity, and we got beads without showing our breasts).
I broke my pants for the Nth time in N-1 pairs of pants, and I do not know how to be careful with them.
Finally (but not forlornly), we are still leaking money, and no matter how much we try to staunch the flow, something more needs to be bought. We will survive, but taking jobs that are not busking may be necessary in the near future. Wish us luck.
It's been a... busy? ...productive? active week for us.
We've begun running each day for about 10 minutes, and have already seen it get easier.
We've taken on a project that we hope to finish by Wednesday, a 5-minute radio play to submit to the podcast Once Upon a Podcast about an adolescent girl who deals with bullies in a unique way, I call it Imagothen.
We continue to ask ourselves the how and what and why questions of our undertaking. Specifically, after a weekend of both performance and observing other buskers, we wonder what we're doing not as well as they are. We know we need to be more engaging and attract more attention, but we're not really sure how to work that into the skill set that we have.
I've begun to learn a few new tricks... or really, to simply realize that I could do a few new tricks by virtue of being entirely comfortable with my 3-ball juggling. I'm especially proud of how I can bounce the ball off my elbow and keep juggling, as that one seems the flashiest.
We're playing basketball with our next door neighbor, who taught us Hustle (a 3-person game like basketball).
We spent some time lounging in a park with friends, and are looking forward to a weekend of games and parades.
We attended last night's Krewe de Vieux parade. It was every bit as debaucherous as we'd been led to believe (though there was no actual nudity, and we got beads without showing our breasts).
I broke my pants for the Nth time in N-1 pairs of pants, and I do not know how to be careful with them.
Finally (but not forlornly), we are still leaking money, and no matter how much we try to staunch the flow, something more needs to be bought. We will survive, but taking jobs that are not busking may be necessary in the near future. Wish us luck.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
3 minute blog
Went busking today. Feel like a plinko piece.
Can't do it here, try over there.
Can't do it here, try over there.
Still, lots of fun to be out in the sunshine, juggling and smiling at passersby.
Can't do it here, try over there.
Can't do it here, try over there.
Still, lots of fun to be out in the sunshine, juggling and smiling at passersby.
Monday, February 2, 2009
We have dense V5 occipital lobes
I hate to post and run, but what there is to say is nothing compared to this.
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