I can't believe we've reached the end of another year.
And I'm still here.
2013 was a year of resolutions. Not the kind of resolutions usually proclaimed on January 1st. I didn't lose weight, I didn't quit eating crap, I didn't work out more, I wasn't nominated for a Tony.
I saw closure on issues that had been unresolved for decades. Issues that had slowly chipped away at my confidence and feeling of competence without me even realizing it. I've been approaching life with a compounded feeling of trepidation each year - not sure what life would throw at me, and without the confidence that I could handle it.
A collaboration that has been in the works for the better part of this year saw it's first round-table reading, and prompted the start of two more scripts. Writing more has meant blogging less, so none of this has been without sacrifices, but it has been a progression of small victories for me.
I didn't get out to a lot of the auditions I would have liked to. In fact, I didn't get out much this year at all. Save for theatre pilgrimages to Little Rock and Phoenix for shows, I frequented my local haunts (the beach, the neighborhood, farmer's market)... but mostly the inside of my condo. (Or glued to my laptop on the patio. Sorry... lanai.) It has been lonely... but as my support circle grows one person at a time, I can't help but be bolstered by the people who believe in me.
I have no idea what 2014 is going to bring, but I can only feel hope in place of the usual hesitation. My old sense of adventure is beginning to return as I shake off the weight of the past and look forward to the unknown.
We've made it this far.
Bring it on.
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
The Season of (not) Giving...
Just as a disclaimer: This is not a feel-good Christmas post. That'll come later. Today it's another political rant. I'm feeling feisty.
I like to be up-to-date on current events, but I don't watch network news. (*Unless I know someone on the show - usually theatre or event promos, serial killer friends... that kind of thing.) I scour the internet for sources from the far left, the far right, and the obscure, because I believe in the merit of "his side, her side, and the truth" ...in most cases.
The danger of getting most of my news from the internet is that I am easily persuaded by passionate arguments on everything from saving the Mexican Grey Wolf to ending bullying to anti-GMO campaigns and budget cuts to education/arts/welfare... you get the picture. I end up on ALL the email lists.
During one quarterly cleaning of my inbox, I discovered that every email from any 'cause' I'd ever cyber-joined led to politics or money. Usually both.
There seem to be two primary categories. The first, a crowd-funded grass-roots campaign to build this or preserve that, usually with specific objectives and collective accountability on how funds are to be used. The second is the 'campaign' or 'committee' dedicated to wiping out this or fighting that. Primarily political, and focused on combating corporate funding of this or that initiative.
Sometimes it's small... a little link at the top or bottom of the email. Sometimes a shiny little radio button with 'DONATE' in an attractive font. Sometimes it's the entire body of the email. But it's always there. "Support our cause - with your money."
I'll use Al Franken (U.S. Senator, Minnesota) as an example of the second/latter category. (In full disclosure, I'm on his mailing list - and not because I think the guy is an asshat. But he IS a politician nevertheless.)
His campaign shot off an email asking for donations to reach their December goal of $200,000. The reason for this request: Karl Rove and his allies are running attack ads. (I'm just going to let that one sink in... for anyone who has ever felt the need to combat someone talking shit about you.)
He goes further to mention a $22.5 million check to Rove's "attack ad factory" as motivation to donate generously to his counter-cause.
So... let me get this straight. The bad guy wants the good guy out of office, so he's going to spend a lot of his money on nasty (and expensive) ad time to throw down the smack talk? Okay. So, what are you going to do with your Christmas money, Mr. Franken? Buy up the air time so he can't? Clever... but expensive and wasteful. Run counter-attack ads? Is it even worth acknowledging if you're the 'good guy'? Send him some expensive liquor with a nice note saying, 'Please don't attack me on the TeeVee anymore"? That only works in the movies. And really... you're going to combat $22.5 million? Give up already.
Wouldn't the best counter-campaign be one in which you could say, "Yeah... Karl is giving me shade. But I'm too busy improving living conditions for the poor or investing in better education to deal with that right now." I mean... wouldn't the ideal 'testimonial' be public opinion on your reputation as a politician that gets shit done? Take a look at Wendy Davis. She didn't even have to get shit done! But when people saw her 'trying' to get shit done, they took notice and lit up the Twitterverse. On a day when half the people in Texas didn't know who she was, she gained a national audience instantaneously.
If you're a politician or a PAC, I'll consider giving you money if you've got a proven record of getting shit done. What I won't consider (even for a second) is giving you money to fight other politicians and PACs. In fact, I scoff. Did you learn nothing on the playground? Let the thugs scrap it out next to the bike rack. Rise above, do you... and get some shit done. Shelter the homeless. Raise the minimum wage. Improve state welfare programs by co-opting from local farmers to give healthy and sustainable food options to the poor. Put the arts back in our schools and community centers.
With my limited experience in fundraising and 501(c)3 administration, I could give you fifty different options on how to use $200,000 to better your community immediately.
And that brings me to the former of the two categories, predominantly non-profit organizations or independent projects on kickstarter or gofundme. The same rule applies. Get shit done. People generally like to back successful projects. The more you can produce a quality outcome, the more people you will attract who want to be part of that legacy.
I'm guilty of this one myself, having launched a gofundme for my move to FL and misjudging how quickly I could get my organization on its feet while still writing, reading, administrating, and generally getting shit done. But now that I'm up and running, it is getting done. We're having readings. Scripts are being written and revised. And the momentum is unmistakable. We will end this year with over twice the donations we had last year. If I expect to keep it up, I've gotta make sure I'm getting shit done. That's how it works.
*On a side note, I will be running a kickstarter campaign to run a counter-attack ad against anyone who has ever disagreed with me politically, economically, artistically, or otherwise.
**J/K. Ain't nobody got time for that.
I've decided to skew my perspective when it comes to the 'Season of Giving'. Rather than putting my $11 into the Salvation Army bucket, I'll buy lunch for the homeless fellah on the corner of Ringling & Tamiami. Rather than throw a paltry amount to Greenpeace, I'll donate to Myakka state park right down the road. Or the wildlife sanctuary. I'll give to places where I can see and feel the difference it makes.
I think money being 'the root of all evil' has a lot to do with intention. Are we funding efforts to tear down and destroy, or are we funding efforts to protect and create?
An anonymous check to a local community theatre or youth program could completely change their year. A box of non-perishables on the doorstep of a struggling single mom will make her weep with relief and gratitude.
I don't have much to give, but when I do... it won't be for politics. I'll put my money where my heart is. The people and the communities that are precious to me. Together, I trust we'll be able to get shit done.
I like to be up-to-date on current events, but I don't watch network news. (*Unless I know someone on the show - usually theatre or event promos, serial killer friends... that kind of thing.) I scour the internet for sources from the far left, the far right, and the obscure, because I believe in the merit of "his side, her side, and the truth" ...in most cases.
The danger of getting most of my news from the internet is that I am easily persuaded by passionate arguments on everything from saving the Mexican Grey Wolf to ending bullying to anti-GMO campaigns and budget cuts to education/arts/welfare... you get the picture. I end up on ALL the email lists.
During one quarterly cleaning of my inbox, I discovered that every email from any 'cause' I'd ever cyber-joined led to politics or money. Usually both.
There seem to be two primary categories. The first, a crowd-funded grass-roots campaign to build this or preserve that, usually with specific objectives and collective accountability on how funds are to be used. The second is the 'campaign' or 'committee' dedicated to wiping out this or fighting that. Primarily political, and focused on combating corporate funding of this or that initiative.
Sometimes it's small... a little link at the top or bottom of the email. Sometimes a shiny little radio button with 'DONATE' in an attractive font. Sometimes it's the entire body of the email. But it's always there. "Support our cause - with your money."
I'll use Al Franken (U.S. Senator, Minnesota) as an example of the second/latter category. (In full disclosure, I'm on his mailing list - and not because I think the guy is an asshat. But he IS a politician nevertheless.)
His campaign shot off an email asking for donations to reach their December goal of $200,000. The reason for this request: Karl Rove and his allies are running attack ads. (I'm just going to let that one sink in... for anyone who has ever felt the need to combat someone talking shit about you.)
He goes further to mention a $22.5 million check to Rove's "attack ad factory" as motivation to donate generously to his counter-cause.
So... let me get this straight. The bad guy wants the good guy out of office, so he's going to spend a lot of his money on nasty (and expensive) ad time to throw down the smack talk? Okay. So, what are you going to do with your Christmas money, Mr. Franken? Buy up the air time so he can't? Clever... but expensive and wasteful. Run counter-attack ads? Is it even worth acknowledging if you're the 'good guy'? Send him some expensive liquor with a nice note saying, 'Please don't attack me on the TeeVee anymore"? That only works in the movies. And really... you're going to combat $22.5 million? Give up already.
Wouldn't the best counter-campaign be one in which you could say, "Yeah... Karl is giving me shade. But I'm too busy improving living conditions for the poor or investing in better education to deal with that right now." I mean... wouldn't the ideal 'testimonial' be public opinion on your reputation as a politician that gets shit done? Take a look at Wendy Davis. She didn't even have to get shit done! But when people saw her 'trying' to get shit done, they took notice and lit up the Twitterverse. On a day when half the people in Texas didn't know who she was, she gained a national audience instantaneously.
If you're a politician or a PAC, I'll consider giving you money if you've got a proven record of getting shit done. What I won't consider (even for a second) is giving you money to fight other politicians and PACs. In fact, I scoff. Did you learn nothing on the playground? Let the thugs scrap it out next to the bike rack. Rise above, do you... and get some shit done. Shelter the homeless. Raise the minimum wage. Improve state welfare programs by co-opting from local farmers to give healthy and sustainable food options to the poor. Put the arts back in our schools and community centers.
With my limited experience in fundraising and 501(c)3 administration, I could give you fifty different options on how to use $200,000 to better your community immediately.
And that brings me to the former of the two categories, predominantly non-profit organizations or independent projects on kickstarter or gofundme. The same rule applies. Get shit done. People generally like to back successful projects. The more you can produce a quality outcome, the more people you will attract who want to be part of that legacy.
I'm guilty of this one myself, having launched a gofundme for my move to FL and misjudging how quickly I could get my organization on its feet while still writing, reading, administrating, and generally getting shit done. But now that I'm up and running, it is getting done. We're having readings. Scripts are being written and revised. And the momentum is unmistakable. We will end this year with over twice the donations we had last year. If I expect to keep it up, I've gotta make sure I'm getting shit done. That's how it works.
*On a side note, I will be running a kickstarter campaign to run a counter-attack ad against anyone who has ever disagreed with me politically, economically, artistically, or otherwise.
**J/K. Ain't nobody got time for that.
I've decided to skew my perspective when it comes to the 'Season of Giving'. Rather than putting my $11 into the Salvation Army bucket, I'll buy lunch for the homeless fellah on the corner of Ringling & Tamiami. Rather than throw a paltry amount to Greenpeace, I'll donate to Myakka state park right down the road. Or the wildlife sanctuary. I'll give to places where I can see and feel the difference it makes.
I think money being 'the root of all evil' has a lot to do with intention. Are we funding efforts to tear down and destroy, or are we funding efforts to protect and create?
An anonymous check to a local community theatre or youth program could completely change their year. A box of non-perishables on the doorstep of a struggling single mom will make her weep with relief and gratitude.
I don't have much to give, but when I do... it won't be for politics. I'll put my money where my heart is. The people and the communities that are precious to me. Together, I trust we'll be able to get shit done.
Sunday, December 8, 2013
Words, words, words
Writing is making me crazy emphasizing my already well-established insanity.
They say that what you write reveals a vast amount about you. (And by "They", I mean one mentor and two written sources or one written source and two mentors.) They also say to write what you know.
Looking on my growing catalog of plays and my book (which hasn't been touched in almost 6 months), I'm looking for a trend or 'niche' that would help describe my voice or 'type' of writing.
We've got a historical piece on the Suffragette movement, a government conspiracy play, a contemporary 'chick play', a black rom-com, and an adaptation of one of my favorite cult movies into a musical (with most of the music still yet to be written). Sigh.
With the exception of the latter, they all have undertones of politics, religion and economics. Funny... because as a general rule, I'm bitter and jaded about all three of those subjects. I guess what you write about really does reveal something about the writer. I'm exorcising my demons, I suppose. And learning focus.
What I don't write about... is my kids. (Though they are the central characters in my book - which is fiction.)
Even in blogging and Facebook/Twitter updates, I censor myself on a regular basis when it comes to my son and daughter. Part of this is due to a bad experience when a stalker found and used photos of them to taunt and torment me... I discovered then how easily the internet can be used to invade your life. The other part of me doesn't want to reveal too much about my kids because the more secrets they have to reveal in their memoirs, the better price they'll get.
Now that they've both graduated High School and are on to college, I still feel protective of them... but I'm also finding myself more vocal about celebrating the amazing adults they've become. I'm at that strange phase of life where it feels odd to thank my 'kids' in my bio, because they aren't kids any more. Even though they'll always be my babies.
And therein lies the rub. Shouldn't I be writing about my kids more? Especially now that they can't be teased in grade school when I turn their childhood anecdotes into a series of children's books? Or are some things just too precious to expose to that kind of vulnerability?
Or maybe I should just stop procrastinating and get back to revisions.
They say that what you write reveals a vast amount about you. (And by "They", I mean one mentor and two written sources or one written source and two mentors.) They also say to write what you know.
Looking on my growing catalog of plays and my book (which hasn't been touched in almost 6 months), I'm looking for a trend or 'niche' that would help describe my voice or 'type' of writing.
We've got a historical piece on the Suffragette movement, a government conspiracy play, a contemporary 'chick play', a black rom-com, and an adaptation of one of my favorite cult movies into a musical (with most of the music still yet to be written). Sigh.
With the exception of the latter, they all have undertones of politics, religion and economics. Funny... because as a general rule, I'm bitter and jaded about all three of those subjects. I guess what you write about really does reveal something about the writer. I'm exorcising my demons, I suppose. And learning focus.
What I don't write about... is my kids. (Though they are the central characters in my book - which is fiction.)
Even in blogging and Facebook/Twitter updates, I censor myself on a regular basis when it comes to my son and daughter. Part of this is due to a bad experience when a stalker found and used photos of them to taunt and torment me... I discovered then how easily the internet can be used to invade your life. The other part of me doesn't want to reveal too much about my kids because the more secrets they have to reveal in their memoirs, the better price they'll get.
Now that they've both graduated High School and are on to college, I still feel protective of them... but I'm also finding myself more vocal about celebrating the amazing adults they've become. I'm at that strange phase of life where it feels odd to thank my 'kids' in my bio, because they aren't kids any more. Even though they'll always be my babies.
And therein lies the rub. Shouldn't I be writing about my kids more? Especially now that they can't be teased in grade school when I turn their childhood anecdotes into a series of children's books? Or are some things just too precious to expose to that kind of vulnerability?
Or maybe I should just stop procrastinating and get back to revisions.
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
Can Someone Please Tell Me...
What happened to November?!
Last I checked, it was October... I left just as Fall and Halloween decorations were beginning to adorn my neighbors' doors!
I have a vague recollection of doing a show, and some fuzzy memories involving pies and turkey, but it's a blur. Sometimes life happens so fast that I don't feel like I have time to take it in and digest it all. I can only respond and volley and snap into action. An unchoreographed waltz with an undesignated lead. Once the action settles, I look back and say, "What just happened there?"
So... the highlights and lowlights of the past month and a half:
I spent 5 weeks in my hometown of Mesa, Arizona doing a fun little romp called 'Menopause The Musical' with Prather Entertainment (Broadway Palm, Dutch Apple, The Palms) and met an extraordinary group of women who took me in with kindness, consideration, and patience. It was a very fortuitous and serendipitous opportunity, and I had a blast being back on my 'old stompin' grounds'.
During my time there, I got to see my daughter (for like a minute) and her BF, my mom and step-dad, my sisters in law, Grandma & Grandpa, my dad, many of my dear(est) friends, and spent some extended time with my son. If you'd have told me in October that he would be living with me in Florida by Thanksgiving, I wouldn't have believed you. But that's the unpredictability of life, yo. He is here. His ginormous shoes infuriatingly in the center of the living room. And I couldn't be happier.
My playwright collaborators and I put together a reading for Testament of Will that renewed my interest in the project and helped to illuminate the direction we want to go with it. So, that was invaluable... and just kinda awesome, 'cuz our actors rocked it out. Now we just need to replace about half of the exposition with humor and compelling shit. No pressure. Done by Christmas. Eep!
We drove out to West Palm for Thanksgiving at Rhonda's (with about 40+ people) and I think I slept for the next two days straight. We'll call it an extreme food coma. I barely remember the drive home, but I know it happened 'cuz there are still leftovers in my fridge.
I've gotten some bites on packets I sent to local talent agencies on this side of the state, so I'm hoping to finally start setting down some roots in Flurrrida before I have to leave again. It'll be good to finally dip my toes in the market here after a year of feeling like I'm on vacation. (*Snap out of it, Andi. You live here. Stop gawking and get some work done!*)
I'm also starting to put together writing samples for a portfolio since there are so many free-lance jobs around here... and Mama needs some extra money for the pantry. (Not to mention Christmas. Holy crap, it's so close already!)
So here it is... already December. The last page of the calendar... another year marked off one day at a time. And no clue what the year ahead will hold for me. One thing I can guarantee... it'll be unpredictable.
Hopefully I'll remember most of it.
Unlike November.
Seriously. What just happened?
Last I checked, it was October... I left just as Fall and Halloween decorations were beginning to adorn my neighbors' doors!
I have a vague recollection of doing a show, and some fuzzy memories involving pies and turkey, but it's a blur. Sometimes life happens so fast that I don't feel like I have time to take it in and digest it all. I can only respond and volley and snap into action. An unchoreographed waltz with an undesignated lead. Once the action settles, I look back and say, "What just happened there?"
So... the highlights and lowlights of the past month and a half:
I spent 5 weeks in my hometown of Mesa, Arizona doing a fun little romp called 'Menopause The Musical' with Prather Entertainment (Broadway Palm, Dutch Apple, The Palms) and met an extraordinary group of women who took me in with kindness, consideration, and patience. It was a very fortuitous and serendipitous opportunity, and I had a blast being back on my 'old stompin' grounds'.
During my time there, I got to see my daughter (for like a minute) and her BF, my mom and step-dad, my sisters in law, Grandma & Grandpa, my dad, many of my dear(est) friends, and spent some extended time with my son. If you'd have told me in October that he would be living with me in Florida by Thanksgiving, I wouldn't have believed you. But that's the unpredictability of life, yo. He is here. His ginormous shoes infuriatingly in the center of the living room. And I couldn't be happier.
My playwright collaborators and I put together a reading for Testament of Will that renewed my interest in the project and helped to illuminate the direction we want to go with it. So, that was invaluable... and just kinda awesome, 'cuz our actors rocked it out. Now we just need to replace about half of the exposition with humor and compelling shit. No pressure. Done by Christmas. Eep!
We drove out to West Palm for Thanksgiving at Rhonda's (with about 40+ people) and I think I slept for the next two days straight. We'll call it an extreme food coma. I barely remember the drive home, but I know it happened 'cuz there are still leftovers in my fridge.
I've gotten some bites on packets I sent to local talent agencies on this side of the state, so I'm hoping to finally start setting down some roots in Flurrrida before I have to leave again. It'll be good to finally dip my toes in the market here after a year of feeling like I'm on vacation. (*Snap out of it, Andi. You live here. Stop gawking and get some work done!*)
I'm also starting to put together writing samples for a portfolio since there are so many free-lance jobs around here... and Mama needs some extra money for the pantry. (Not to mention Christmas. Holy crap, it's so close already!)
So here it is... already December. The last page of the calendar... another year marked off one day at a time. And no clue what the year ahead will hold for me. One thing I can guarantee... it'll be unpredictable.
Hopefully I'll remember most of it.
Unlike November.
Seriously. What just happened?
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
Life on the road - Homecomings
There are many positive and negative aspects to doing regional theatre, many funny and poignant anecdotes... but today, we're going to focus on travel.
I'm 'out of state' several times a year now... sometimes for a few days to hit auditions, sometimes for weeks or months at a time for rehearsals and productions. I love to travel. I love to fly. I love road trips. I love to explore new places. I love the adventure. I love falling in love with towns I never thought about (like Savannah, GA) or places I never imagined I'd have a chance to see (like Maui). And even though I'm a sucker for jet-setting, I get homesick very easily.
By day two, I miss my family, my animals, and my 'routine' at home. By week two, I miss my kitchen and my creature comforts - my artsy projects and half of my 'technical equipment' that wasn't worth the luggage or shipping fees to bring along.
The silver lining in all the misery of separation anxiety and whisking cake batter with a wooden spoon from 1990 is the long-awaited and much anticipated homecoming.
After spending last week in Lancaster, PA, I was missing home and musing with my soon-to-be-castmates about their time away from their loved ones, the beauty of Skype and technology that keeps us all connected, and the strength and support we get from our 'anchors'. There is no mistaking the energy backstage on the closing day of a show. There is usually a bit of sadness and reluctance to leave our new family, and a ton of sheer, ants-in-the-pants excitement and joy towards reuniting with our old one.
My homecomings have begun to follow their own formulaic routine as of late... Beginning with my New York pace from the jetway to the 'arrivals' gate outside... while the other 15 people in the airport meander about (7 of which are TSA or flight crew). Happy reunion with J, who is all choked up.... because he's no longer responsible for 100% of the household chores - and can finally catch up on all the shows he wasn't allowed to watch without me.
Happy reunion with Roxanne (my dog) who apparently (hop, hop) thought I was dead (hop) and might not ever return (hop, hop, hop) to rub her belly again (hop) and really needs to figure out why my feet smell strange, (hop) but mostly the belly thing (hop, hop, circle-sprint, collapse, roll).
Two of the cats come out to see what the commotion is and stop to sample the new scratching post by the front door - the one that looks exactly like my suitcase. They leave, unimpressed.
I take my suitcase into the bedroom, give J the condensed version of every little detail of my flight, followed by the highlights of my time away as I pour a glass of wine and throw out dinner suggestions. We settle on ordering take-out Chinese so we can play the new Diablo 3 together and then watch Key & Peele. I decide that unpacking and laundry can wait until tomorrow.
I unsuccessfully try to coax Sparky onto my lap. (He's my familiar - and my favorite - but don't tell the others.) He's mad at me for leaving, so I'm getting the silent treatment as he pretends not to see me.
Waking up the next morning - in my own bed - there's a spring in my step as I convert the patio table into my workspace for the day and watch the squirrels and blue jays fight for the treats I've left outside the back door. Sparky jumps up onto my lap - purring - and all is once again right in my world...
...20 minutes later when I go to unpack my suitcase - I find that he has pissed on it.
Welcome Home.
I'm 'out of state' several times a year now... sometimes for a few days to hit auditions, sometimes for weeks or months at a time for rehearsals and productions. I love to travel. I love to fly. I love road trips. I love to explore new places. I love the adventure. I love falling in love with towns I never thought about (like Savannah, GA) or places I never imagined I'd have a chance to see (like Maui). And even though I'm a sucker for jet-setting, I get homesick very easily.
By day two, I miss my family, my animals, and my 'routine' at home. By week two, I miss my kitchen and my creature comforts - my artsy projects and half of my 'technical equipment' that wasn't worth the luggage or shipping fees to bring along.
The silver lining in all the misery of separation anxiety and whisking cake batter with a wooden spoon from 1990 is the long-awaited and much anticipated homecoming.
After spending last week in Lancaster, PA, I was missing home and musing with my soon-to-be-castmates about their time away from their loved ones, the beauty of Skype and technology that keeps us all connected, and the strength and support we get from our 'anchors'. There is no mistaking the energy backstage on the closing day of a show. There is usually a bit of sadness and reluctance to leave our new family, and a ton of sheer, ants-in-the-pants excitement and joy towards reuniting with our old one.
My homecomings have begun to follow their own formulaic routine as of late... Beginning with my New York pace from the jetway to the 'arrivals' gate outside... while the other 15 people in the airport meander about (7 of which are TSA or flight crew). Happy reunion with J, who is all choked up.... because he's no longer responsible for 100% of the household chores - and can finally catch up on all the shows he wasn't allowed to watch without me.
Happy reunion with Roxanne (my dog) who apparently (hop, hop) thought I was dead (hop) and might not ever return (hop, hop, hop) to rub her belly again (hop) and really needs to figure out why my feet smell strange, (hop) but mostly the belly thing (hop, hop, circle-sprint, collapse, roll).
Two of the cats come out to see what the commotion is and stop to sample the new scratching post by the front door - the one that looks exactly like my suitcase. They leave, unimpressed.
I take my suitcase into the bedroom, give J the condensed version of every little detail of my flight, followed by the highlights of my time away as I pour a glass of wine and throw out dinner suggestions. We settle on ordering take-out Chinese so we can play the new Diablo 3 together and then watch Key & Peele. I decide that unpacking and laundry can wait until tomorrow.
I unsuccessfully try to coax Sparky onto my lap. (He's my familiar - and my favorite - but don't tell the others.) He's mad at me for leaving, so I'm getting the silent treatment as he pretends not to see me.
Waking up the next morning - in my own bed - there's a spring in my step as I convert the patio table into my workspace for the day and watch the squirrels and blue jays fight for the treats I've left outside the back door. Sparky jumps up onto my lap - purring - and all is once again right in my world...
...20 minutes later when I go to unpack my suitcase - I find that he has pissed on it.
Welcome Home.
Sunday, September 8, 2013
Happy Anniversary!
I kinda blew by an important milestone without celebrating it properly, so here's some recognition.
First, this is the first year of many many years that I did not call my mother or send my father an email wishing them a 'Happy Anniversary' at the end of August. (Even though they've been divorced for over 20 years now.) I've always taken some twisted pleasure in being the 'catalyst baby' - which means I take partial credit for their decision to marry and the existence of my three brothers. The tongue-in-cheek celebration was as much about their decision to raise me together as it was about another year of adulthood in which I got to skate by as the artsy-fartsy, 'black sheep, hippie bastard love-child.
Both of my parents are now remarried to partners that make them infinitely more happy than they were together, so it seems a little mean-spirited to wish them a happy (failed) anniversary... but I still celebrate it privately in my heart. :)
Second, and more significant, is my one-year anniversary of moving to Florida.
HOORAY!
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There have been ups and downs, but mostly 'ups'... and while I miss the hell out of my friends and family, I couldn't be happier about where I am right now.
The hardest transition has been the distance from my kids. It's unnerving to be this far away, and yet... they're both in college and venturing into their own adult lives, so I'd be doing a lot of knitting and worrying and missing them - no matter where my location.
I'm immensely thankful for technology (if my infuriating son would ever use it) and I'm thankful for the UPS store being so close and giving me the corporate discount for care packages shipped across the country.
I've learned that jellyfish stings feel just like bee stings and that my eyes are really sensitive to saltwater. I've learned that racoons and possums are nuts for cat food, but that the squirrels are partial to my burnt croissants. I learned that sometimes you get really lucky with awesome neighbors if you just put yourself out there and say 'Hi'. I also learned to screen potential roommates with a bit more caution.
After living in AZ all of my life, I knew it would be a while before this desert rat transitioned into a tropical beach bum. However, Florida does share some similarities with my home state that make me feel comfortable and acclimated. There is a 'winter visitor' season here just like there is back home. People out here also drive like D-bags, get a little stir-crazy during the summer, and the politics are just as shady. 'Monsoon season' is the same time of year, but it's 'Tropical Storm Season' here and it rains almost daily for at least an hour.
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I had some specific goals set for my first year out here. And I didn't meet all of my goals, I accomplished a few things that were absolute surprises for me.
I have yet to do a 'bona fide' show in Florida, but I've hit a handful of auditions and at least started to stick my toe in the water of the theatre community out here. I went back to AZ to do a production in the Fall and left again in the Spring to do a show in Little Rock - which to me, is the best of ALL worlds!
My focus has shifted a bit to writing - a big surprise, but a pleasant one - an outlet that I've always used personally, but never publicly. With that shift came my registration for the tutor program with the Sarasota Literacy Council, and a few other projects that made the list of goals for my second year here in Florida.
I haven't been to New York since the Spring, which speaks to my level of 'nesting'... I haven't had the gypsy urge to go people-watching and free-hugging in Times Square or hit the nearest port-of-call for cruise line auditions, which is odd. I typically get those urges on a weekly basis. I think that means I'm content here. For how long, who knows? But I'm thankful. Very thankful.
And especially to those who helped me get here... friends and family that helped me along the way - either financially or with encouragement and moral support - I can't thank you enough.
Happy Anniversary.
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First, this is the first year of many many years that I did not call my mother or send my father an email wishing them a 'Happy Anniversary' at the end of August. (Even though they've been divorced for over 20 years now.) I've always taken some twisted pleasure in being the 'catalyst baby' - which means I take partial credit for their decision to marry and the existence of my three brothers. The tongue-in-cheek celebration was as much about their decision to raise me together as it was about another year of adulthood in which I got to skate by as the artsy-fartsy, 'black sheep, hippie bastard love-child.
Both of my parents are now remarried to partners that make them infinitely more happy than they were together, so it seems a little mean-spirited to wish them a happy (failed) anniversary... but I still celebrate it privately in my heart. :)
Second, and more significant, is my one-year anniversary of moving to Florida.
HOORAY!
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There have been ups and downs, but mostly 'ups'... and while I miss the hell out of my friends and family, I couldn't be happier about where I am right now.
The hardest transition has been the distance from my kids. It's unnerving to be this far away, and yet... they're both in college and venturing into their own adult lives, so I'd be doing a lot of knitting and worrying and missing them - no matter where my location.
I'm immensely thankful for technology (if my infuriating son would ever use it) and I'm thankful for the UPS store being so close and giving me the corporate discount for care packages shipped across the country.
I've learned that jellyfish stings feel just like bee stings and that my eyes are really sensitive to saltwater. I've learned that racoons and possums are nuts for cat food, but that the squirrels are partial to my burnt croissants. I learned that sometimes you get really lucky with awesome neighbors if you just put yourself out there and say 'Hi'. I also learned to screen potential roommates with a bit more caution.
After living in AZ all of my life, I knew it would be a while before this desert rat transitioned into a tropical beach bum. However, Florida does share some similarities with my home state that make me feel comfortable and acclimated. There is a 'winter visitor' season here just like there is back home. People out here also drive like D-bags, get a little stir-crazy during the summer, and the politics are just as shady. 'Monsoon season' is the same time of year, but it's 'Tropical Storm Season' here and it rains almost daily for at least an hour.
.JPG)
I had some specific goals set for my first year out here. And I didn't meet all of my goals, I accomplished a few things that were absolute surprises for me.
I have yet to do a 'bona fide' show in Florida, but I've hit a handful of auditions and at least started to stick my toe in the water of the theatre community out here. I went back to AZ to do a production in the Fall and left again in the Spring to do a show in Little Rock - which to me, is the best of ALL worlds!
My focus has shifted a bit to writing - a big surprise, but a pleasant one - an outlet that I've always used personally, but never publicly. With that shift came my registration for the tutor program with the Sarasota Literacy Council, and a few other projects that made the list of goals for my second year here in Florida.
I haven't been to New York since the Spring, which speaks to my level of 'nesting'... I haven't had the gypsy urge to go people-watching and free-hugging in Times Square or hit the nearest port-of-call for cruise line auditions, which is odd. I typically get those urges on a weekly basis. I think that means I'm content here. For how long, who knows? But I'm thankful. Very thankful.
And especially to those who helped me get here... friends and family that helped me along the way - either financially or with encouragement and moral support - I can't thank you enough.
Happy Anniversary.
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Monday, August 19, 2013
When Society gives us a fish... we make sushi.
"If every crisis is an opportunity, then artists are facing the opportunity of a lifetime." - Kerry Lengel
A journalist/theatre critic in my hometown has started a great debate about the state of the arts – both locally and on a broader scale. The debate is one that is controversial among artists and non-artists alike, and one that I have some pretty strong opinions about. So, of course I'll weigh in via my blog. 'Cuz that's how I roll.
Lengel writes, “Across the arts-and-culture sector, virtually every organization, large and small, has had to slash spending... after dozens of conversations with arts executives and industry watchers, I have come to see a strange sort of silver lining in this existential crisis. The Great Recession has done more than force arts groups to re-examine their business models, it is also forcing them to face the hardest truth of all: Society doesn’t owe you anything.”
From a personal standpoint, I kinda agree with that hard truth. The choice of wording is a little assumptive, but I understand the message.
Essentially, it IS up to the writers to write the right rites (sorry, had to) and up to the directors to innovate and improve. It is up to the actors to engage and inspire and the marketers to market and the costumers to costume and for everyone to do what they do best – which is why I assume we're all here in the first place. No one expects to throw crap on a stage and attract funding or an audience (except Honey Boo-Boo and the Kardashians).
Society doesn't owe it to us at all.
Society owes it to themselves.
Without art, we lose connection with something that is bigger than ourselves. Without the arts, we lose what is the best (and worst) part of being human – our ability to create and surprise and inspire... to move and be moved. To transcend and participate in something beyond our inconsequential mortal fictions.
Mr. Lengel inspired much debate with his words. He moved people – either affecting them positively or negatively – and perhaps even a few heartrates increased as passionate debate stirred within. In my book, that makes Mr. Lengel an artist himself. And thus, his responsibility is no less than mine to use his gifts to inspire the community to support it's own artistic voice. He sparked debate. Love it or hate it, he was successful in stirring up something within a community that was worth the dialogue.
Art is collaborative. It requires the artist to feed the community as much as it requires the community to feed the artist. In harmony, it is self-sustaining. In disharmony, it is cynical and apathetic.
On a practical level alone, it is proven that communities that support and encourage the arts see significant drops in crime, truancy and teen pregnancy among their youth. The arts have been used to promote literacy, recreate history, educate, engage and inspire since the beginning of man. Clinton played the sax. Obama sings. DaVinci, Edison, Einstein, Tesla, Graham-Bell - all scientific and technological innovators.
And artists and poets and musicians.
The same innovation and creativity required to create remarkable works of art is the same innovation and creativity required to find success in business or to forward technology and industry. These qualities are evolutionary and revolutionary and should NEVER be suppressed.
Society owes it to themselves.
A journalist/theatre critic in my hometown has started a great debate about the state of the arts – both locally and on a broader scale. The debate is one that is controversial among artists and non-artists alike, and one that I have some pretty strong opinions about. So, of course I'll weigh in via my blog. 'Cuz that's how I roll.
Lengel writes, “Across the arts-and-culture sector, virtually every organization, large and small, has had to slash spending... after dozens of conversations with arts executives and industry watchers, I have come to see a strange sort of silver lining in this existential crisis. The Great Recession has done more than force arts groups to re-examine their business models, it is also forcing them to face the hardest truth of all: Society doesn’t owe you anything.”
From a personal standpoint, I kinda agree with that hard truth. The choice of wording is a little assumptive, but I understand the message.
Essentially, it IS up to the writers to write the right rites (sorry, had to) and up to the directors to innovate and improve. It is up to the actors to engage and inspire and the marketers to market and the costumers to costume and for everyone to do what they do best – which is why I assume we're all here in the first place. No one expects to throw crap on a stage and attract funding or an audience (except Honey Boo-Boo and the Kardashians).
Society doesn't owe it to us at all.
Society owes it to themselves.
Without art, we lose connection with something that is bigger than ourselves. Without the arts, we lose what is the best (and worst) part of being human – our ability to create and surprise and inspire... to move and be moved. To transcend and participate in something beyond our inconsequential mortal fictions.
Mr. Lengel inspired much debate with his words. He moved people – either affecting them positively or negatively – and perhaps even a few heartrates increased as passionate debate stirred within. In my book, that makes Mr. Lengel an artist himself. And thus, his responsibility is no less than mine to use his gifts to inspire the community to support it's own artistic voice. He sparked debate. Love it or hate it, he was successful in stirring up something within a community that was worth the dialogue.
Art is collaborative. It requires the artist to feed the community as much as it requires the community to feed the artist. In harmony, it is self-sustaining. In disharmony, it is cynical and apathetic.
On a practical level alone, it is proven that communities that support and encourage the arts see significant drops in crime, truancy and teen pregnancy among their youth. The arts have been used to promote literacy, recreate history, educate, engage and inspire since the beginning of man. Clinton played the sax. Obama sings. DaVinci, Edison, Einstein, Tesla, Graham-Bell - all scientific and technological innovators.
And artists and poets and musicians.
The same innovation and creativity required to create remarkable works of art is the same innovation and creativity required to find success in business or to forward technology and industry. These qualities are evolutionary and revolutionary and should NEVER be suppressed.
Society owes it to themselves.
Artists are creation machines. And there is much to be learned when we can turn that mirror in on itself and lend a voice to the arts-and-culture representations of our communities... our 'society'.
We are failing because we (as a 'society') have put an emphasis on production rather than creation; buying into the notion that we are valuable based on the quantity, the quality, and under which oppressive circumstances we can sustain or increase what we produce.
We are slipping into an age where we treasure consumerism over creation, productivity over inspiration, and pragmatism over passion – threatening the existence of our collective intangible human soul.
But arts groups aren't failing everywhere. There are organizations (and communities) that are thriving.
Predecessors passing the torch to the next generation of visionaries – and those who have toiled through years of up and down experiences, fashioning new legacies to be passed along to their successors. Thriving.
Why? Because they feed their community – outreach programs, collaborative productions, unconventional locales, innovative settings, controversial content, celebrity box office billings – and in return, their community feeds them. Neither side is apathetic. Both are passionate, excited, and anticipating 'the next big thing' they will create together. It is self-sustaining. And self-destructive. When one side fails, both sides fail.
'Society' is responsible for supporting and continuing the arts in their own communities and artists must create that which is worth preserving.
It is not enough to make art. We must make good art.
And we must be a reminder to our communities that art is essential – if nothing else, to touch base with our own imaginations rather than the touch screen of our latest app.
When was the last time you hooted and clapped and guffawed out loud? When was the last time someone's poetic words moved you to tears? When was the last time you stopped and marveled at the beauty around you? When was the last time you hummed a tune? Or doodled in your note pad? That is the byproduct of art. The ability to relate to another person - most likely a stranger to you - and their concepts or theories or feelings or notions is the beauty and wonder and marvel of the human condition. Other side effects of art include: inspiration, motivation, joy, surprise, alarm, laughter, tears, guffaws, victorious cries, breathless sighs, snickers (available at concessions), intrigue, adaptability, dialogue, debate, connection, imagination...
Society doesn't owe me anything. I'm an artist. A creation machine. I began early, and I will continue to create as long as I have a pulse.
Society owes it to themselves to encourage, promote, preserve, maintain and participate in the arts; because we are all artists.We're all responsible.
We're all creation machines.
We all need to be.
Or our 'society' is doomed.
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
Profanely Indecent De-Friending
I lost a Facebook friend today.
Truth is, I don't pay attention to the number of friends I have. And being in the industry I'm in, friends come and go with the ebb and tide of the theatre season... or a political term... or a wave of gossip. I don't usually take it personally. We binge and purge depending on where we are in our lives and what kind of validation or entertainment we seek.
Then there are those that seek to teach a lesson when they go. The friends that don't slip silently away from your newsfeed with a click of a button, but announce loudly, "I'm leaving and here's why!" That's what happened today. This 'de-friending' was only significant because it was both a family member and a lesson-giver.
"Andi - I just wanted to explain why I am taking you off of my Friends list. I do not appreciate some of your vulgar language or some of the raunchy things you have posted. I still love you as family, but I can nor condone your actions or behavior and just wanted you to understand. I will continue to pray for you."
Now, this isn't the first time I've been admonished by a friend or family member for my outrageously smutty or crude behavior. But as always, I feel like I have to ask, "Do you KNOW me?" I gave up shame for Lent some time ago and I haven't been the same since. So, let me discuss...
First of all, can we stop pretending that Facebook connections are equivalent to condoning someone's actions or behavior? They're not. I've got plenty of friends that participate in practices that I'm not particularly keen on (like butt-sex). Not only do I NOTbelieve that our cyberfriendship gives me the right to comment on (or stands to symbolize my validation of) their butt-sex, but I don't believe that any of them NEED my validation to continue having butt-sex ...or post reference to it on their profiles as often as they'd like. Thus, I am also not asking anyone to condone my cyber behavior.
Second, I don't filter my posts. If you're on my friends list, you're seeing EVERYTHING I post. I don't feel the need, nor do I have the time to separate friends from family, conservatives from liberals, theatre peeps from civilians, former students from former teachers, etc. I post what I post and say what I say and everyone gets to see it the same as everyone else. My parents, my kids, my friends, my ex-boyfriends, my frenemies... all treated to the same verbal vomit and self-promotion that I find relevant and post-worthy. Do I think everyone will agree and relate with what I post? No. My friends are much too diverse. Some will 'like' it, some will hate it, some won't see it because they hid me from their newsfeed long ago. That's the beauty of using your own features for you. You don't have to see what you don't want to. Unless it's an ad. Then you're just screwed. Then again (and this is where I do agree with him) the easier way to filter your newsfeed is to simply remove anyone that doesn't think and feel exactly the way you do. One of the basic tenets of Christ, I presume to be among the lost 11th-15th commandments. Ghandi said "Happiness is when what you think, what you say and what you do are all in harmony." I am happy.
Third, if you find me raunchy, vulgar and offensive online - enough to cut ties with me - then it's probably in our mutual best interest. In the past month, I've posted references to poop, dicks, assholes, pin-up girls, 80's pop trivia, epic fails, skinny bitches, shark teeth, nude beaches, drinks with friends, funny tampon commercials, support of gay marriage and kids going off to college. Oh, and Amanda Palmer singing in the nude. None of which I find obscene, smutty, lewd, crude, or profanely indecent. Believe it or not, I actually do censor what I post online. So you can imagine how raunchy and vulgar my life really is! Full of foul language and inappropriate behavior, lewd and provocative dress, sex, lies, scandal, racism, sexism, fascism, polyamorism... whatever - you name it, I've lived it. Lived it for the adventure, the experience, the perspective and the human connection. And I love and cherish every single crude moment of it.
I find merit in Amanda Palmer's nude response to The Daily Mail. I find humor in the tampon commercial and Wil Wheaton's 'Don't be a Dick' Day. I find relevance and satire in friends musing online about the 'Real Housewives of Whoretown". I am liberated and unoffended. I do not have a sensitive constitution. I do not believe that the world should be made up of people who think and feel and behave and create the same way. THAT, to me, is an offensive thought. And if I'm offensive, how does one conduct oneself in the 'secular world'? If I'm that nasty, then you must not have basic cable.
And so my response was,
"Dear _____, I'm sorry you feel the way you do, but I do understand. Your judgment and condemnation is not the first I've encountered. But I do not need anyone to condone or validate the blessed life I live. My raunch and vulgarity are parts of what make me a successful actress, writer, and comedienne. I don't believe that one of the tenets of Christ was to remove people from our lives who think, feel or behave differently, but I respect your decision to do so. Just because we are family does not mean we have to be 'friends'. I do not particularly agree with the views you express or the behavior you display, but I simply hid you from my news feed long ago. I'm sure there are others that deserve and need your prayers much more than I. Please breathe a sigh of relief and rest assured that my salvation is not in your hands. I personally release you from any responsibility or connection to me and my immortal soul. I hope that you can once again enjoy your newsfeed without my invasive offense. Sincerely, Andi"
One less online 'friend', and yet I feel oddly liberated that there is one less person watching my newsfeed for content to judge and condemn. It's also one less notification about today's bible verse or the movement to squelch the rights of others in the name of Christianity. Ghandi also said "I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians. They are so unlike your Christ." (I think Ghandi may have met my great-uncle.) He also said that no one can hurt you without your permission. I also believe that to be true. There can be many perceived offenses in my life that I could allow to hurt - offenses that would cut off familial relationships or long-worn friendships. I choose stronger attributes instead - like love, tolerance, forgiveness, faith and loyalty.
Or I just hit the 'unfriend' button and walk away - because it is not my place to judge intentions nor to teach lessons. I'll leave that to the elite chosen few.
While you cannot choose your family, you can choose your Facebook friends... and sometimes that's way better in the long run.
And on that note, I'm off to live my smutty, morally crude life doing what I love and thanking my higher power for the abundance and joy I experience every day.
Truth is, I don't pay attention to the number of friends I have. And being in the industry I'm in, friends come and go with the ebb and tide of the theatre season... or a political term... or a wave of gossip. I don't usually take it personally. We binge and purge depending on where we are in our lives and what kind of validation or entertainment we seek.
Then there are those that seek to teach a lesson when they go. The friends that don't slip silently away from your newsfeed with a click of a button, but announce loudly, "I'm leaving and here's why!" That's what happened today. This 'de-friending' was only significant because it was both a family member and a lesson-giver.
"Andi - I just wanted to explain why I am taking you off of my Friends list. I do not appreciate some of your vulgar language or some of the raunchy things you have posted. I still love you as family, but I can nor condone your actions or behavior and just wanted you to understand. I will continue to pray for you."
Now, this isn't the first time I've been admonished by a friend or family member for my outrageously smutty or crude behavior. But as always, I feel like I have to ask, "Do you KNOW me?" I gave up shame for Lent some time ago and I haven't been the same since. So, let me discuss...
First of all, can we stop pretending that Facebook connections are equivalent to condoning someone's actions or behavior? They're not. I've got plenty of friends that participate in practices that I'm not particularly keen on (like butt-sex). Not only do I NOTbelieve that our cyberfriendship gives me the right to comment on (or stands to symbolize my validation of) their butt-sex, but I don't believe that any of them NEED my validation to continue having butt-sex ...or post reference to it on their profiles as often as they'd like. Thus, I am also not asking anyone to condone my cyber behavior.
Second, I don't filter my posts. If you're on my friends list, you're seeing EVERYTHING I post. I don't feel the need, nor do I have the time to separate friends from family, conservatives from liberals, theatre peeps from civilians, former students from former teachers, etc. I post what I post and say what I say and everyone gets to see it the same as everyone else. My parents, my kids, my friends, my ex-boyfriends, my frenemies... all treated to the same verbal vomit and self-promotion that I find relevant and post-worthy. Do I think everyone will agree and relate with what I post? No. My friends are much too diverse. Some will 'like' it, some will hate it, some won't see it because they hid me from their newsfeed long ago. That's the beauty of using your own features for you. You don't have to see what you don't want to. Unless it's an ad. Then you're just screwed. Then again (and this is where I do agree with him) the easier way to filter your newsfeed is to simply remove anyone that doesn't think and feel exactly the way you do. One of the basic tenets of Christ, I presume to be among the lost 11th-15th commandments. Ghandi said "Happiness is when what you think, what you say and what you do are all in harmony." I am happy.
Third, if you find me raunchy, vulgar and offensive online - enough to cut ties with me - then it's probably in our mutual best interest. In the past month, I've posted references to poop, dicks, assholes, pin-up girls, 80's pop trivia, epic fails, skinny bitches, shark teeth, nude beaches, drinks with friends, funny tampon commercials, support of gay marriage and kids going off to college. Oh, and Amanda Palmer singing in the nude. None of which I find obscene, smutty, lewd, crude, or profanely indecent. Believe it or not, I actually do censor what I post online. So you can imagine how raunchy and vulgar my life really is! Full of foul language and inappropriate behavior, lewd and provocative dress, sex, lies, scandal, racism, sexism, fascism, polyamorism... whatever - you name it, I've lived it. Lived it for the adventure, the experience, the perspective and the human connection. And I love and cherish every single crude moment of it.
I find merit in Amanda Palmer's nude response to The Daily Mail. I find humor in the tampon commercial and Wil Wheaton's 'Don't be a Dick' Day. I find relevance and satire in friends musing online about the 'Real Housewives of Whoretown". I am liberated and unoffended. I do not have a sensitive constitution. I do not believe that the world should be made up of people who think and feel and behave and create the same way. THAT, to me, is an offensive thought. And if I'm offensive, how does one conduct oneself in the 'secular world'? If I'm that nasty, then you must not have basic cable.
And so my response was,
"Dear _____, I'm sorry you feel the way you do, but I do understand. Your judgment and condemnation is not the first I've encountered. But I do not need anyone to condone or validate the blessed life I live. My raunch and vulgarity are parts of what make me a successful actress, writer, and comedienne. I don't believe that one of the tenets of Christ was to remove people from our lives who think, feel or behave differently, but I respect your decision to do so. Just because we are family does not mean we have to be 'friends'. I do not particularly agree with the views you express or the behavior you display, but I simply hid you from my news feed long ago. I'm sure there are others that deserve and need your prayers much more than I. Please breathe a sigh of relief and rest assured that my salvation is not in your hands. I personally release you from any responsibility or connection to me and my immortal soul. I hope that you can once again enjoy your newsfeed without my invasive offense. Sincerely, Andi"
One less online 'friend', and yet I feel oddly liberated that there is one less person watching my newsfeed for content to judge and condemn. It's also one less notification about today's bible verse or the movement to squelch the rights of others in the name of Christianity. Ghandi also said "I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians. They are so unlike your Christ." (I think Ghandi may have met my great-uncle.) He also said that no one can hurt you without your permission. I also believe that to be true. There can be many perceived offenses in my life that I could allow to hurt - offenses that would cut off familial relationships or long-worn friendships. I choose stronger attributes instead - like love, tolerance, forgiveness, faith and loyalty.
Or I just hit the 'unfriend' button and walk away - because it is not my place to judge intentions nor to teach lessons. I'll leave that to the elite chosen few.
While you cannot choose your family, you can choose your Facebook friends... and sometimes that's way better in the long run.
And on that note, I'm off to live my smutty, morally crude life doing what I love and thanking my higher power for the abundance and joy I experience every day.
Thursday, June 6, 2013
I have a blog?!
Me (the actress) and Me (the writer) are in a big fight. BIG.
It has been going on all week.
I'm anxious to get my foot in the door with the local theatre scene here in FL, so I've been trying to focus on auditions here in between my travels and adventures. Being the 'new kid' in any theatre community can be tough - and there is no equivalent to a Laura Durant in the sunshine state - so it requires some extra vigilance and networking on my part. Something that my writer-self has no patience for.
I'm working on four projects right now. A novel, two plays, and a musical adaptation. Yes, I'm an unfocused Pisces and I overwhelm myself with many creative ventures at once. That's just how I roll. Two of my written projects are collaborations, which takes some pressure off. And all of them have a different feel, energy, content, etc... So it lends itself well to my daily moods. Feeling cheeky? We work on the comedy or the musical. Feeling research-y? We work on the historical piece. Feeling evasive and calculating? We work on the novel. It's not the best system in the world, but it works.
Both worlds collided when I started writing up my business plan and starter materials for TMC, LLC.
I'm not very good at mixing art with business. I'm the person that people hire when they need a creative, passionate, driven, hungry artist. People do not hire me for my business sense. I can crunch numbers when I have to, but it kills my soul little decimal points at a time.
Anyhow, all this business mumbo-jumbo has resulted in writer's block. Oh, and I forgot I had a blog.
To summarize the past two months, I did 'Death of a Salesman' out at Arkansas Rep. It was a great show with amazing artists and I had a blast! Came back to FL and did FPTAs (with a couple of my gal pals who flew/drove out for 'em) then flew back to AZ for my baby girl's graduation and am now back in FL, debating auditions in Ft. Myers & St. Pete's this month, callbacks in Orlando next month, and a possible trip back to NY for auditions in mid-July. (The writer within is railing against all this actor-y nonsense, claiming that we have too much work to do.)
In the meantime, Hello blog! It's nice to see you again! Hopefully my pansy, fragile little writer ego will settle its ass down and pop over once in a while to say 'hi'.
It's not you, it's me.
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
The Equality Blog
In 1948, a speech was given by Alben Barkley quoting Thomas Jefferson,
"He did not proclaim that all the white, or the black, or the red, or the yellow men are equal; that all Christian or Jewish men are equal; that all Protestant and Catholic men are equal; that all rich and poor men are equal; that all good and bad men are equal. What he declared was that all men are equal; and the equality which he proclaimed was the equality in the right to enjoy the blessings of free government in which they may participate and to which they have given their support."
Truman said, "We believe that all men are entitled to equal opportunities for jobs, for homes, for good health and for education. We believe that all men should have a voice in their government and that government should protect, not usurp, the rights of the people."
Currently, the gay community is without rights. They are usurped. An entire community denied the right to marry by its own government. And I'm shocked that there is still debate among ourselves when the onus should be on our government to defend such a heinous miscarriage of both justice and liberty to its people.
We are good at labeling each other. We judge and categorize so that we can determine who should be included or excluded from our lives - based on compatibility, relation, "common interests".
Are you a believer? Do you have kids? Where'd you go to college? What was your major? Where DID you get those shoes?! Are you on Grindr? Facebook? Match.com? Alpha Beta Kappa Dappa Poopty Doo!
When I started my elementary education, I remember learning about two basic parties - Democrats and Republicans. (My daddy said we were the latter.)
Now there are liberals and conservatives and progressives and tea-bags and the Republic of the Flying Spaghetti Monster for cryin' out loud!
And I deal with it in my industry as well. Are you a triple-threat? No? Cut. Ages 35-45? Yes? Stay. 5'5"-5'9". Stay. Caucasians can go. Women, stay. Divas, go.
In our efforts to specify which group we belong to and separate ourselves from those we don't, we've sub-categorized and factioned ourselves to death. We ostracize and denounce, validate and advocate until there's a very small subset that we can call 'my people'.
Sometimes merely based on 'beliefs'.
Some people believe that onions taste great. I believe they are the devil's fruit. I hate them. But I have enough common sense not to hate the person who believes they're awesome. In fact, I might spend a dozen years in an intimate relationship with an onion-loving freak!
I don't believe that onion lovers have the right to impose on my onion-free existence just because an archaic book of proverbs and parables says that onions are fantastic and clear out your arteries. And I'll fight like a she-devil if anyone tries to hold me down and forcibly put them in my mouth!
I feel just as vehemently about anyone else being forced to eat onions... Or being denied the right to.
Because I'm on team 'people'.
Not just my people or your people, but ALL people.
And the rights of the people must be protected, not usurped.
R. Kelly believes he can fly.
Whitney Houston believes in you and me.
And The Darkness believes in a thing called love.
I believe in equality.
And Team People.
And life without onions.
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