Tuesday, March 24, 2015

A glimpse into my reality

A brief narration of how I spent my evening:

I took the cat to the vet and (since I got stuck in traffic both ways) got home kinda late. The little one was really fussy and just wanted me to pick her up, but I needed to feed everyone, so I bargained with and reassured and entertained her as best I could while I got dinner ready. She was done before I was even finished serving, and just wanted me to pick her up...but I hadn't eaten yet and didn't have a chair, so James let her sit in his lap, and she ate my food while I got drinks/napkins/more heat for the big kids' dinners. After a while I relented and picked her up and held her while I tried to eat a bit...but I wasn't more than a few bites in before James (who is currently out of commission due to a nasty injury and subsequent surgery) called for me because the toilet was overflowing in the hall bathroom. He had heard water running and went in to check; it must have been going on for a while because by the time I got in there the whole bathroom was flooded.

So I shut off the valve and quickly got to work plunging etc. and then set about the cleaning process. I decided I might as well clean the toilet bowl while I was at it, and if you are already doing one toilet, ya might as well do both, so I put the cleaner in the bowls to set while I sopped up all the dirty water and put all the affected small items like the step stool and combs and bath toys that had been affected into the tub to be cleaned...when I heard James and the little one making a mad dash to make it to the potty on time. Realizing I was cleaning the toilets and not wanting her to splash the cleaner onto herself, James stuck a wholly offended 2 year old into the (other) tub so she could pee in the drain, since this was clearly an emergency situation. She was NOT having it. She screamed. she wailed. She did not pee. I tried to finish cleaning the toilets as fast as I could. James - who, mind you, is currently a one-armed non-bendable creature who has instructions from the surgeon not to lift more than a pound -tried to carefully lift her to transfer her to a more desirable location so she could finally relieve herself, but the pressure of the awkward lift combined with all the screaming  she was doing was too much for her poor little bladder, and she loosed its contents in mid air, no longer neatly controlled right over the drain, this pee went on the adventure of a lifetime- exploring every dimension of the bathtub, even the outside, and the surrounding floor, and the bath mats and stools and...so I finished cleaning the toilets to the dulcet tones of utter humiliation and discontent, and then set about washing off The kidlet. She didn't much like that part, either. Cleaned and wrapped in a towel, I sent her off to sit by the fire with James while I cleaned up THIS bathroom. Scrubbed the floor, cleaned the tub, whoohoo, it's all clean!

Now back to the original task at hand; cleaning up after the broken toilet in the first bathroom. Finding the steam mop broken, I scrubbed that place by hand, and then stuffed all the towels, bath mats, rags, my clothes...anything that had been in contact with anything in this encounter into the washing machine.

Next up, I got into the shower to wash off all the contaminated stuff I'd tossed into the tub. I wash it all off and am finally ready to wash myself off.

Now is probably a good time to mention that I have a skin condition that necessitates that I limit my contact with water, ESPECIALLY hot water, and I realized about halfway through washing myself off that after all this I should probably try to avoid getting wet for a while...which means that I wouldn't be able to help James wash himself off later, so I called him in to let him know and we decided he should get cleaned off, too. At this point I've been in the Luke warm water long enough that my fingers are sluggish and I'm shivering, so I turned up the heat to try to warm up. It was too hot for James, though, so I turned it back down and shivered through getting him cleaned off and then rushed through my necessary post-shower moisturizing routine...meanwhile, the little one was screaming again, this time just outside the bathroom door, and as I becon her to come in so she wouldn't have to be alone, I smelled something....and she confirmed that she needed to poop, and had an accident but she didn't know where. Sure enough, while rushing her to the other bathroom (the one with the working toilet) it became clear that she had started off in there, and then ran to try to get help, leaving a sad trail of poo all along the way.

So I left her to do her duty on the toilet and went back to clean up all the poop. And then of course I cleaned the kid off. And then scrubbed everything down. And put more stuff in the washing machine. And then I got the kid dressed. And then I got myself dressed. And then I got the kids to bed despite my hands having lost all their elasticity. (My palms are shiny!!)

And emerged from the bedroom to realize; it was 10:30pm and I hadn't yet had dinner.

Giant bowl of blueberries and cream for dinner! 

Yeah, it may be crazy sometimes, but I got this. ;-p

Friday, March 13, 2015

As High as Heaven Itself

No matter how crazy life gets with job changes, moves, medical mishaps and new adventures, there will always be time for us to share some...Aerial Shakespeare!!

This is our entry for this years iShakespeare video contest.  The kids had the idea to incorporate their aerial work this time, so we scoured the text for an appropriate quote. Struck gold with Romeo & Juliet, Act 4 scene 5.

I love that this is the kind of stuff I get to do with my kids.  I think they kinda rock.

As High as Heaven Itself from Kat Stroot on Vimeo.

Friday, February 20, 2015


We've been keeping pretty busy lately, and things only stand to get a bit busier in the next few months. I know that I tend to lose track of corresponding with people easily, so as I did the usual dump of family photos and videos from my phone last night I decided that it might be nice to give you a tiny glimpse of one of the many crazy things in my day-to-day life for which I am profoundly grateful.

Believe it or not, the footage below is mostly unremarkable in the best way possible.  These kids have built up a beautiful relationship with their parkour teachers (shameless plug:  Urban Evolution Alexandria) and this sort of amazing play has become a staple of our lives.


So very many thank yous to all of you crazy UE folks.  We are lucky to have you in our lives!

Sunday, January 4, 2015

The ultimate unintended glitterbomb.

Dear children of mine;
I admire your creativity, spontaneity, and passion, and I am thrilled that you found a way to make it feel like you were really throwing icy blasts like Elsa. 

The Floor.  Everywhere.

And I certainly hope that this is one of those childhood memories that you take with you for the rest of your lives and can think back on fondly no matter what.

seems innocent, but note the dusting on her shoulder, and down her arm, and in her hair...

Because otherwise, I have no words to describe the level of...sparkle...that has inextricably overtaken our home...

I pet the cat, and came away with some glitter on my hand.
From this day forth, everything about our family shall shine; our floors, walls, towels, sheets, clothes, hair, cats, brooms and vacuums, and yes, even our food (and therefore our very excrement)- shall gleam and glisten in the light...as will anyone or anything that happens to exist near a member of our household in the near future. (Stand by for Stories from the Court: the Glittering Judge)

Cameras suck at capturing glitter carnage; but you can note some shimmering on her pants.  and forehead.

(And here I thought the battle was limited to two coated palms in the kitchen...the more fool I, for as I focused on my work, the entire house was beseiged by battling handfuls of projectile 'magic', and as of now, I haven't found a single surface that has been spared. Except, mercifully and to your credit, for the computer desk.)

Yup.  glitter.  the pixie dust kind that doesn't wash out, like, ever.

I love you fiercely, my wonderfully troublesome little faeries.

What is left. Oh yes, these were full before the attack. I had used a sprinkling from each one for projects.

Monday, December 1, 2014

Reel Life (ha!)

Photo credit: Hunter Curry.  A nice representation of my weird struggle; also a still from some of the footage that has been making things...'difficult.'
For the past, oh, 15 years or so, I've been wanting to put together a reel.  Not in that "hmm, someday I'd like to..." sense, but in the active, "I'm doing this now" sense.  And yet...and yet there is always SOMETHING.  At first, it was simply a matter of obtaining footage.  Then my focus shifted slightly, and I needed different footage.  Then, it became a technology issue.  Formats have changed so rapidly over the years that by the time I had collated everything, the formats were incompatible with the hardware.  Then, it became all about the software.  These days, it is usually something comical, like "sorry, your version of final cut pro isn't compatible with the fancy schmancy new format this feature was shot in, so you need to upgrade.  But oh, you need to increase your RAM, and by the way, you have to upgrade your OS first.  And did I mention that this will render your encoding software obsolete?  And how about we throw in some hardware malfunctions while we're at it, and now you don't have access to decent quality versions of any of the footage you do have...Great! now that you've done all that, hey look-this codec isn't editable, so you need that encoding software. Oh look!  switching to premiere is now cheaper than upgrading final cut!  Now you get to migrate the entire project...Rinse, repeat..." (don't worry, that wasn't really supposed to make sense.  It's not a literal list of what happened.  That would be so very much longer...)
Anyway, between technical glitches, endless bouts of waiting on footage, life changes, format/program/hardware changes and general craziness...well, I have nothing to show for all of that work.

So, I've had enough.  I'm tired of the endless drama that has constantly delayed getting even a tiny glimpse of my work together, and I want to try to be more proactive about my career, and so I have done the unthinkable.  I have taken those bits of terribly degraded footage, those copy-of-a-copy-of-a-copy bits of blurry motion and smushed a few of them together and didn't even bother to tweak it so the titles don't blur.  It's messy.  It's unprofessional.  It doesn't land anywhere near my standards, but it is fun, and it is at least something I can share with my friends.

Don't worry, I am still working on getting an actual, substantial, truly well done reel...but in the meantime, here is my cobbled-together-with-chewing-gum-and-a-prayer sizzle reel (focused on my action work, which - as I learned during the process of making this - I have depressingly little footage of).  Take it as it were; at least I had fun editing it to the music.  Enjoy.

Kat Stroot Sizzle Reel from Kat Stroot on Vimeo.

Thursday, November 27, 2014


Happy Thanksgiving!

This year, despite everything, we have so very much to be thankful for.  And as a miraculous little reminder, this morning I finally got a clean, sharable video from the kids' silks performance back in August. It reminds me how very grateful I am to have found the opportunities, and perhaps more importantly, the communities here that I have, how much we have been embraced, and how much we have all been able to grow, even in those moments where you think for sure there is no way you'll make it through.  For the fact that we have been able to find adventure instead of adversity, and for the fact that we continue to strive to do so, and to listen and learn how to do so.  And for what it's worth, sometimes reminders like this video pop up to show us our forward momentum when we can't necessarily feel it ourselves. (It feels like an ancient relic compared to their current abilities.  And I'm sure that in another few months, where they are today will seem so distant...)

With that, I am so pleased to finally be able to share this with you. We were so incredibly proud of these kids.  They created and performed this piece under my minimal direction - they even chose the music and choreographed it.  They had only one single tech run before the show, and this was their first time doing silks in front of an audience...but despite the strangeness and the jitters, they managed to pull of a great little show- and, actually, especially the fact that those jitters caused many timing issues/mistakes and yet they kept it together and made it all the way through with giant smiles??  That's the good stuff, folks.
Do what you love for the sake of doing it.  It won't always be perfect, and sometimes you'll get stuck on your head during that somersault you've never missed ever, but there will always be sparks of joy, and always a new journey.

Once There Was a Hushpuppy from Kat Stroot on Vimeo.

The title, by the way, is also the title of the music:  Once There Was a Hushpuppy, from Beasts of the Southern Wild. A beautiful, magical, poignant piece (that is one of only two movies both of my kids actually like,) which spoke to every member of my family in a deep and effecting way. Thank you, Lucy.

Monday, October 27, 2014

Once Upon A Death

Mom left this for me to find after she was gone.
Last night, my mama visited me in my dream.

I don't mean I got some divine message from her or anything, but last night my dream was of an old wooden house, filled to the brim with activity - kids, family, chaos, lost socks...The place seemed new, and perhaps unfamiliar, but we were settling into it with the intention of letting it become a safe place for us.  And mom was there, too - it was a dream beautiful in its banality, we were just spending time together, like a family trip home for vacation.  With one notable exception: we all fully acknowledged that mom was dead, but that just added to how wonderful this brief time we had together was.  I think we knew it was just a day or so, and it seemed implicit that this would happen every so often, these visits... It was so surprisingly nice to get to talk to her about how hard this year has been, and how much we miss her...the same old comfort from mother's counsel that I could always count on.  No drama, just an acknowledgment of "Man this sucks.  It's really hard.  I'm so glad I have you to talk to about all of this." Plus jokes and laughter, and...it was just such a nice visit.

Up until today, I have been able to explain away my forgetfulness, my wistfulness, my loneliness, my tears. "My mom just died." But now there are only a few hours left wherein her abscence is "novel." Moments in the turning of the seasons that I have not previously experienced without her. Starting in mere hours, the time will begin to overlap. I will have experienced this moment in the cycle of time without her once already... Just last night, the darkness fell without her on an October 26th for the very first time. But tonight, the darkness will fall on an October 27th for the second time.

And somehow I find this one even harder to fathom.

The first year was somehow built into the event of death; you lose someone, part of your heart goes with them, and you spend a year mourning in an emotional darkness. 
But what do we do now, at the advent of the second year? 
Another trip around the sun without mother? This is no longer the fresh wound, understandably bleeding. This is now the old injury that doesn't fully heal, aching under gray skies, no longer obvious to passers by. A silent, private pain, devastating, but to the outside eye, invisible.

Mom's amazing laugh
I am used to invisible pain, though. All through my teenage years, I struggled with a chronic pain disorder called Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy.  While it is (thankfully) mostly in remission now, I learned a lot from my experiences with it. One of the hardest things I learned was that sometimes, the things that hurt the most are the very things you need to do in order to continue on as a whole being.  Giving in to the pain can lead to atrophy and eventually the loss of the limb...or worse, it can spread and consume your entire body.

And so I find inspiration here.  I know that hiding from this pain won't help me find a path through it, and I know that the world at large isn't going to hold my hand while I try to find my feet, and so I dive into it on my own in the dark, quiet nights when my family is safely sleeping.  I write, I sing, I imagine, I explore, I cry...

Earlier this year, I performed an aerial silks piece that I created in honor of my mother, about the experience of losing her.  I haven't shared it because it was underrehearsed and not at all up to my own standards, but last night's dream really drove home that she would be saddened by my decision not to share it, and if I really want to honor her as I meant to, I should put it out there anyway.

So this is for you, Mom:

This song hit me square in the gut last fall as we prepared for your departure. Everything about it spoke directly to how I felt.  And though I knew we were heading towards goodbye, I knew that I would never stop wanting you back.  That there will always be a huge place for you in my heart. It spoke to the little kid in me that will always be looking for you out the window, waiting for you to come home.  It was very clearly written about a lost lover, but that didn't matter, the sense of loss and longing at the point of departure, the calm acceptance that this was happening even if we didn't want it to, the sense of strength in the face of huge change, and the preservation of the love...it all hit so close to home.  The chorus became my wish for you to have an easy, peaceful death, and no more promises became my way of releasing you from feeling like you were letting us down by leaving too soon.  And never loving again was simply never getting over this loss.  The song became the anthem of that time for me, and helped me, hugely, to grieve.

"The sky looks pissed
the wind talks back
my bones are shifting in my skin
and you my love are gone.

my room feels wrong
the bed won't fit
I cannot seem to operate
and you, my love, are gone

So glide away on soapy heels
and promise not to promise anymore
and if you come around again
then I will take, 
then I will take the chain from off the door.

I'll never say
I'll never love
but I don't say a lot of things
and you my love are gone.

So glide away on soapy heels
and promise not to promise anymore
and if you come around again 
then I will take the chain from off the door.

Then I will take
then I will take
then I will take
the chain
from off
the door."

I took that song and used it to create this piece.  I was going for a disjointed feel, where things seem backwards and upside down, at odd angles, and things that should be beautiful seem somehow awkward...all while looking skyward in search of something that is missing.

Unfortunately the video didn't come out very well.  It's dark, and all of the shape work I did in the fabric at the start is totally lost, and because it is in closeup a lot of the vertical dimensions I was playing with don't translate, so I consider this a poor documentation of it on top of feeling like it wasn't the homage you deserved...So it is only with the understanding that this is just a first step, and I will be holding you in my heart in everything that I do that I am putting this out into the world now. It may be flawed, but it is for you, mama, with so much love.

Maybe the chain is on the door to that old wooden house in my dream.  Maybe, every so often, you can come around again, and I will take - I will always take - that chain from off the door.

Love always,