All Day She Plays Pop Up Shop

So let's talk about all day she plays for a minute. What is it?

I have always been fascinated by the many roles we take on in our lives, we are daughters, husbands, artists, business people, assholes, saints, you name it. all day she plays, is the manifestation of just that. It's that idea that we don't have to be anything particular, it's where that creative side of you that hides away in the corner can come out and (for lack of a better word) play. all day she plays, is a magazine, it is a collective, it is a production company, it is a place to let that side of you come out.

Want to be a part of it? email me! alldaysheplays@gmail.com 

So I Accidentally Went to Advanced Hot Yoga/Pilates

Something seemed off to me this weekend as I sat down in the 90 degree room next to an incredibly fit looking woman. She was doing some intense yoga movements to, what seemed to me, prepare for the yoga class about to take place in 5 minutes.

She was the only one in the room, and she was right next to the farthest corner spot that I wanted.  Awkwardly, I plopped myself as close as possible to the only person in an empty room. I tried to make a small joke to her about my car getting stolen for leaving my key in the open cubby. She turned to me and said "we're not that kind of people." 

Well.. I guess it's this kind of class.

Slowly the women trickled in and started stretching silently, limbs reaching farther above their heads then what I would deem healthy. There was one man in the class. Around 60, better abs then David Beckham. 

As I sat tucked away in the corner, I thought to myself, maybe this is typical for a beginner class. I'm pretty fit, I can run for 8 minutes straight without being that sweaty, and I'm not a yoga connoisseur.  I breathed in slowly, choosing to focus on preparing that part of my yogic exercise. I lay on the mat for no more then 4 seconds when I start to feel the sweat rolling down my neck.

Next thing I know the teacher walks in and within one word everyone in the room is propped into some pretzely position that cannot comprehend. I had gotten myself so far from the door that there was no way I was getting out of this smoothly. I was going to suck it up. 

Everything was going so quickly. People were moving, the teacher kept yelling "tap, tap..tap,tap" as legs soared through the air.  Now I know yoga is a very individual practice. You go at your own pace BUT this wasn't yoga. This was power, exercise, my abs are better than yours yoga and I was the undercooked, under-salted, crooked pretzel in the corner. 

I left, drenched in sweat feeling like an washed up jellyfish. I showered, got myself together and drank half a bottle of wine with dinner. Better. 

Two days later it hurts to laugh, but I'll probably go again on Saturday. 

War Horse at Proctors

I embarrassingly admit that I generally tend to act as a generational product when it comes to watching theater. I like a big stage production that allows me to suspend my disbelief with minimal effort so I can focus on the plot. As has been written in several local articles about the production, WAR HORSE, is almost entirely raved about for it's technological performance. Though you can see the feet of the puppeteers under the giant horse, it is almost impossible not to believe the subtle movements of the horse that are so lifelike it's unbelievable. 

There was a moment when I sensed an awkward transition during the war scenes but my skeptical brain was quickly shut up by the firing of a gun blank over and over. I suddenly felt like I was watching a trench in World War I. My brain battled throughout the end of the show between understanding reality and letting go into this world that was so masterfully created for me on stage.