In the training this weekend
Our teacher quoted Beckett
Over and over again.
The one where he says something like
“You were born and there is no cure for that.”
We are all subject to our birth
to the where
and the when
Taurus or Virgo
To whom.
Born to privilege
Born to poverty
Born with the will to drive forward
Or with the desire to lay back.
The bestseller businessman says
We don’t really change
That we are born with certain strengths
And certain weaknesses
And these will always be so in some measure.
We are subject to our own make-up –
To our own genes and patterns.
We keep beating our fists against who we are
Not wanting to be subject to anything
Not even ourselves.

Is this why we fear greatness?
That once we achieve it
Or have greatness thrust upon us,
We will watch our will slip away?
If we think of greatness as fame
Or fortune
Or power
All those things come with some strings
That could tie up our desires
Such that we can no longer have them.
Like a movie star
Suddenly unable to go out for a coffee
Without creating a stir. Shackled to a sheltered privacy
Everywhere she goes. Greatness can expand
And contract,
Can make us lighter
Or weigh us down.

First, I’m not sure what a cautel is and I’m on a train away from Lexicon
Or even a dictionary so the answer is not forthcoming.
Second, this sentiment is extraordinary.
Now now he loves you
He loves you purely
Deeply
Honestly
Whatever. . .
But hidden in that “Now” is a “But.” The “but” follows exactly, in fact.
Now he loves you but. . .
And later, Hamlet will say almost the same “But” later with his “You should not
Have believed me.”
And “We are errant knaves, all, believe none of us.”
In a way, it’s pointing at Hamlet’s own belief in himself, in his word, in his love
All are subject to the world around him
And everyone around him is headed for a fall.
Funny how that doesn’t turn out to be true.

This is how a brother speaks to his sister –
With thews and bulk
And waxing temples.
Like father, like son, I suppose.
No plainspeaking runs in this family –
It’s either overblown, convoluted speechifying
Or nothing at all.
(Although occasionally, upon dying or in the face of tragedy, the words boil right down.) This line is usually cut
because – what? What are you trying to say Laertes?
He breaks it down
Eventually
But he starts here
Is he attempting a really broad innuendo?
Something about wide-ness and growing and opening makes me think maybe he’s headed gingerly in that direction.
It’s actually quite impressively confusing.
If someone said it to me,
I’d be making one heck of a confused face in response.

I can’t decide if Laertes’ advice is terrible or actually pretty astute.
None of us knows how much Hamlet loves Ophelia
Or even
If he does.
And many a girl I know
Has lost her heart and faith to a man she gave everything to and then regretted it after.
A little temperance in love
A little healthy suspicion
At least in the beginning
Might actually be just the cushion a besotted girl needs as she’s falling
Or else
Laertes has here set off a chain of distrust
That leads to the downfall of them all.

A toy in blood?
I picture a white stuffed kitten
Paw deep in a pool of blood.
Or a tiny wind-up boat
Sailing through veins and arteries.
None of which would seem
To indicate affection.
Is a toy in blood meant to suggest lust?
I can’t quite wrap my head around it.
Violets and perfumes and fashion –
These words cleave together,
Can suggest the fleeting quality of something precious,
Something to be enjoyed quickly before it changes and is gone.
But a toy – – –
A toy in blood
I suppose one can toy with blood with touch –
The way a touch can bring blood
Rushing to the fingers
Particularly with the more sensitive parts of the body.
One could send blood hither and yon
Perhaps very quickly, with fleeting connections
Between them all.

I had to look this one up in the notes.
But I wasn’t convinced. I’m still wrestling with this instruction not to sleep.
Especially as it’s followed by an assurance that she won’t.
Yes, of course, the winds speed a boat along
Assisted by a convoy (which I think of as a gang of trucks –
Is it the same with boats? Do they call each other over the CB radio too?)
A gang of boats, traveling together
making trouble on the seas
or in the seas
or in this case
helping out.
I guess I can see that this is a way to say
“Write me at your first opportunity”
but it sure is a complicated and confusing way to say it.
What does it say about Laertes that he uses such odd phraseology?
It’s like part image, part obscurity, part awkward construction.
Some people are a little awkward.
I saw a groom at a wedding
Who had the air of a 13 year old growing into his body and just
Learning how to talk to girls.
Maybe Laertes is awkward with his little sister
The way that groom is with everyone.

My, my, people say goodbye to each other a lot in this play.
I’m wondering. Will I write a new thing everytime?
This is still only Act 1. The very beginning of scene 3.
I know I’ve written at least 2, probably 3, 4
Farewells already.
Maybe I’ll just keep count
Of how many goodbyes get said
Throughout this play.

Everything I need is on a boat –
Sea, sky around it
Surrounded by blue.
I have my anchor
My compass
Pen and paper for the log
Another suit of clothes
Toothbrush
A book
When I take a trip
Sometimes I think I need
So much more than I do.
Hair product
Contact lenses
Laptop
Ipod
Books upon books
Gifts
Funny socks
Different shoes for different occasions –
The necessaries so dependent on the activities in store.
I once went to a fancy wedding without fancy shoes –
A terrible oversight. The bride had to drive around the local village
To go shoe shopping with me.
I didn’t even have some at home that I’d forgotten to pack.
They were so far beyond my normal necessaries
I had simply not thought of them.
When I pack for a wedding this weekend,
I will pack the shoes first
Because they are the necessaries.