1978.

My Cell Phone And Green Pastures.

My cell phone has a little bit of a mind of its own.  It tends to snap pictures unbeknownst to me.  I hear the click and wonder what that phone was thinking!

This is one I particularly liked.  I'm not quite sure what my phone saw, but it sure is pretty!

Here is the next untoward photo.  My phone picked it out. It is a picture of the lights overhead during fight call:
I think it is a beautiful choice and that maybe my phone has a better eye than I do!

I traveled from Seattle in a plane.  This is a small part of what I saw:

The ground below and the sky from above.

My husband's birthday cake.  For the first time in five years, I was there to celebrate with him!

I arrived in Los Angeles and found the most precious of theatres. A courtyard in front and an intimate space inside! 

Below is just a bit of the work I do.  If you can decipher this, you might have taken my class.

My wonderfully successful show has closed.  My lovely talented actors have moved on.  We've worked, we've cried, we've struggled and we presented the best damn show that has been seen in a while.  I revel and rest.  I look to move on, but not yet.  There is still time to sit, to ponder. There is still time to laze and chat and cook and clip a rose bush or two. 

I've midterms to correct, and a class to teach.  I've a husband and a family and not quite a farm.  (A nod to Joni.)  I'll walk green pastures by and by.

xo.

My Facebook Fury.

I wrote a diatribe on facebook tonight.  One of my "friends" posted something very offensive about the mosque intended to be built near ground zero.  Her suggestion was to put offensive pornography and strip clubs across the street.  This was my response:

"I can't believe I am "friends" with some of you. Have you any idea how offensive this is? I've actually considered "un-friending " some of you. My husband is an Arab-American. He is not Muslim but some people don't make the distinction. And it doesn't matter anyhow.
We (the people of these United States) are not designed to be an oppressive country though that is the way it all seems to be going now. Fuck you all for your intolerance! The insensitivity is offensive to me. Muslims are NOT the problem. Hate and bigotry is. Grow up and look at history. Jews, Catholics, Blacks, Hispanics, oh, and Gay People too ... any group that does not conform to White Protestantism is a target. Look at the GOP's candidates! Really look at what they are saying!

Do any of you realize there was a Mosque in the Twin Towers? Muslims died too that day... And they were AMERICANS! Stop this HATE.

STOP IT! Radical extremists exist everywhere. Look at the Tea Party. Really listen to what these crazies are saying. How dare you denigrate an entire religion because of a few. We are supposed to be better than that! And, if you are listening to FOX News.. The United States is not Saudi Arabia or any other country that is intolerant. You say... until the Arab countries allow Catholic or Baptist or Lutheran or whatever churches in their country we should not allow the Muslim faith. We have set up a country better than theirs. WE have freedom of religion. This is a specious argument. They are fucked up. We are supposed to be better. Get it together folks, or we are going to set ourselves up for a religious war. And we won't win.

Tolerance. Who really cares if there is a (peaceful, religious place of worship) mosque anywhere. I don't find it in the least offensive. I find the idea hopeful. REALLY.
Relax and then worry about our troops still looking for Osama, worry about your children and your next job. Worry about the state of our country that has become something else than the forefathers imagined. WHAT ARE WE DOING? We are in very scary times."

(Now, a comment on my facebook diatribe.) 

Very scary times indeed when intelligence takes a back seat to "poplulism." When the "good ol' boy" who drinks with you beats out the guy who helped you pass math or history, very scary times indeed.  When we elect people who don't know or understand history and want to take us back to the 'original' constitution.. you know, where "negroes" are slaves and women can't vote, scary scary stuff.

Yeah.  Let's do that!

Makes me just want to move to France.  Well, maybe not France right now.  How about Fiji?

The End And Art.

Even difficult journeys come to an end.  THE END.  I know that is what my cast is looking towards.  This show has been so difficult. The subject matter, night after night, gets into the psyche and changes the way we go about our day.  We, my company and I, need to move on.

So, though we may cry and hug and ultimately miss each other, this show is ending not a moment too soon.  We've done the job.  We've studiously educated, we've entertained, we done a remarkably clean show, we've broken hearts and we've raised money.  All good work.

Time to move on.

I've railed about the nature of theatre.  And here I am, again on the forefront. It is all life-changing. Yet... it is becoming increasingly impossible to make a living doing this.

Times are hard.  We need water, electricity, internet connection, heat...food. And ART?  Food for our collective brain.

Really... What is the point without ART?  What kind of life are you living?

Hmm.  That's all for now.

I have to reflect on this.

xxo

m.

New Paths.

Moving on.  That is what life is about after all.  One more week of this spectacular show and then... on.  

Lost a friend.  Moving on.  Found a friend, desperately ill, but now recovered.  Cool. He is still here. 

Looking ahead.  What makes the most sense?  I hate to say it, but, money and health insurance.  Where did our dreams go?

When did it all become about health insurance and money?  I am at the bottom of the art food chain.  The jobs pay substantially less than they used to, and there are far fewer jobs out there. I can't imagine what actors are going through.  

I am really good at a particular thing.  That thing seems to have less monetary worth than it used to.  I have to look for something else.  

There is no money in theatre.  I don't know how to do any thing else.  I will find a way.

Who knows who I could talk to about voice-overs?  I think I could do that.  

The Real 3D. THEATRE!

Theatre is floundering. The populace has too many other options and is not taking the (very expensive) journey to witness something live and in 3-D. The cost is great, the parking is a problem, and food?  Ach!

Theatre is ethereal and mercurial. It is airy and passing. It teaches us and is gone. A ghost of a project.  Working in theatre goes the same way. Fleeting.

We do it all and the show ends.  We are at a loss. We've dedicated so much time; we've done the best work ever and it fades. We look to move on. We look to some new bit that will entertain and educate.

Gordon Davidson recently did an interview where he said theatre artists will not be able to make a living...soon. That may be now.  

Yet, theatre keeps on living. A friend of mine recently posted a blog about 99 seat waiver houses and how our actor's union allows union actors to work in those vastly underpaid and un-union like places.  The history of the 99 seat theatre plan is that the actors themselves asked for the venues to be created.  They wanted to show off their art to t.v. and film corps. The union relented. The union is actor driven.  And now, many actors complain about the plan that allows them to do more than just audition. The purpose of the 99 seat plan has been lost. The goal was for these emerging companies to build an audience and move up to real paying jobs for actors and for working houses. The result has been that some small theatre companies have created an industry out of using professional actors, building audiences with no intent to grow. They've created an industry using and abusing the actors.  (Give 'em an inch..)

This is a travesty that only actors can resolve.

We can't lose live stage plays. We can't. We can't lose actor driven performances live on stage and audience participation. We can't. 

We won't. I believe we will always come back to the real. I believe there is a NEED.

There is nothing like seeing it live... on stage... in the flesh and in real 3D.

xo.

Shingles, Really?

I had a horrible back ache the other night.  Oh, my, gosh... it was so intense.  There was nothing that helped except ice and so much Advil that my stomach hurt.  I couldn't get comfortable in bed and moved the pillows all around thinking I had a muscle strain.  I actually got up and filled a plastic bag with ice and slept on it.

I thought I'd lifted too much. I thought I was stressed... I attributed it to ... something I could take care of by myself.  A day or two later I said to my husband.. "I'm itching all over." Not unusual.. I'm very allergic. The next day I had a weird rash on my side. It itched a very little and hurt like the dickens!  I thought I'd been bitten by a spider. The redness spread out horizontally.  It decreased the next day. The pain was still present and I called my dermatologist because I was afraid I'd been bitten by a black widow. (They are everywhere here.)

I felt silly coming in, as a last minute appointment for a spider bite. Okay.. Here is the lesson.  I have Shingles.  No spider bit me.  The pain I felt in my back was Shingles.  I am over fifty and prone to it because I've had chicken pox.  I don't want to go into all that right now, but, briefly.. if you haven't had chicken pox, you can't get Shingles.  If you have had chicken pox, I am in no danger of infecting you.  Oh.. so complicated. If you haven't had chicken pox...stay away from me.  I am only contagious if you actually touch my lesions, so don't do that, okay? The point is, if I'd waited even a day longer, all my doctors could not have done anything to help me.  As it happened... I am on anti-viral medication that only works if one is diagnosed quickly.  So, my dorky need to be reassured saved me.  Take the lesson.

Can I work?  Whoa.. Can I work.. of course I can.  A little pain, a little adaptation to my chair, I will always show up.  Is it painful?  Look it up. Oh, My, God. the initial pain was great.  The resultant pain was enough to send me to the doctor.  You know me.  I tolerate pain very well.  This was.. different.

Then, .. well, today, I started developing hives.  According to my dermatologist, I am allergic to the virus causing my shingles.  I should expect hives.  Oh, such a pretty girl.

In the meantime... I will take care of my show, scratch the itch, rebound at the pain I've just caused myself by scratching, look to the stage, call the cue, answer the needs of my actors and wander on through the paths of my life.

Maybe later those paths will take me thru the Redwoods.