There I am.

Coyotes And Disinformation.

2012-01-29T02:12:00.000-08:00

I saw a coyote the other night in Burbank, just willy-nilly crossing the street. Now, I know what you will say. "It was a dog." No. I have lived in California most of my life and I know what a coyote looks like. This animal was just walking across the street on Glen Oaks and was perfectly at home. The problem and the remarkable nature of this was that he was many blocks from wilderness and in fact in a heavily populated area. Stunning, always. I slowed down for this coyote and wondered. I loved seeing him. How fabulous!

My tech is going well. My actors are able to rehearse while we tech. The crew is fantastic... Love them. First performance is Wednesday. We'll be ready. This is always so much fun. Looking forward to an easy lovely run.

The wind here has been just ferocious and awful. We lost some of our roof.. Bummer. Phil is all ready to fix it but the winds need to die down first. So dry. So windy. Such angry angry wind!

The climate has changed since I was a girl, many long years ago. I don't know how one can deny it. It is the middle of winter and we are already on "fire alert." Really? Scary.

I know. The world is flat and evolution is a theory. And man lived with dinosaurs and the world is only 6,000 years old... and we did not have a common ancestor with the apes... And we are "god's" creatures... And the Tardis is real and unicorns just didn't make it onto the ark, and the moon is made of cheese. Tell me more, please.

Wondering where we are all headed.. Wondering if disinformation is ultimately what we will all believe. A little frightened by some of my fellow Americans. Looking for the truth and not the faith.

Looking Up.

2012-01-23T01:04:00.000-08:00

Recently noticed I'm smoking less. Wow. Not even trying. This is a good thing. Encouraged by the most recent run-through of my current project, am beginning to see why this play was nominated for the Pulitzer. The music is grand. I am so excited about teaching my class tomorrow I don't know if I can really sleep. I can't wait.

I have the gift of looking at life with pure optimism, most of the time. It is truly a gift. I could spend a lot of time complaining about what is wrong on this blog..and I do sometimes, but mostly, I CHOOSE to be happy. I choose to wake up with a smile and look at the new day as a NEW DAY.

The world is in a dangerous state of flux. My friends have issues and problems I will not discuss here.. I am always looking for a job. But. But. The morning light is so beautiful. The coffee tastes so good. Okay, I'll eat oatmeal for breakfast and save my heart, but really, how hard is that? I like oatmeal.

You may have noticed I've included some songs written by my gorgeous husband on my blog. I actually had to have him put them there. I am not as adept as he with scary code. Take a listen when you have the time.

This is all to say... Good luck to you all. I believe things are looking up. Just a feeling, but I have very accurate feelings.

Another Story Of A Lazy Imbecile.

2012-01-11T02:29:00.000-08:00

I am writing this on my iPad that doesn't seem to like blogger.com, so we'll see how this turns out....

Trying to come home this evening I was stopped by a blocked road... Okay, I'll take the route chosen for me. I truly tried. I got lost in Shadow Hills and ended up back on the street I'd just left, only earlier in the route. I finally decided to ask the "parking enforcement officer" who was positioned in his car, for directions. It was nearly midnight and very dark. I was on my way home from rehearsal. There were traffic cones everywhere; not wanting to cross them, I stopped my car where the cones wanted me to turn left. Immediately, I was yelled at by a parking enforcement officer who did NOT get out of his car - to move my car to the side of the road. Okay. I went through the cones and parked. This officer sat in his car and talked to me from afar. I asked him how to get home. He said, turn left and you will reach Wheatland. I'm not stupid, I knew Wheatland was around there somewhere, but I'd just driven, in the dark, and couldn't find the correct turns to get there. He said, again, still in his car, "Everybody else has found it!" I said, "No. Everyone is driving around in the dark, lost, backing up, stopping and looking confused." He said " Just follow the cones." K. There were no cones past the initial left turn. I asked him to give me directions.. What street? He said," Bluebell, turn left. I said, "That doesn't work." I asked why I couldn't get through, He said..."There was a traffic accident. Do you think I just get up in the morning and decide to close the road? Yeah, that's what I do in my spare time..." He actually continued being a smart ass. I pointed at him and said, "Fuck You!" I walked away, back to my car and headed off into the dark, a 57 year old woman trying to get home at midnight. I got to Marybell, not Bluebell, as he'd said and turned right, not left, as he'd told me, and finally found my way home. I was pissed. Along the way I saw.. both times I went through Shadow Hills, lost people, backing up, parking and looking around, coming out on the wrong side, as I did.
Is it any wonder so many people are frustrated with government workers? This man's job was to help me. Well. He failed. I fended for myself.. Again. His only thought was to prevent me from passing. Okay, safety issue, I get it. But I was in potential danger too. I was ignored and looked on as a crazy lady. I was in need of some real help. Really. What the fuck! Who are these people we are hiring who are supposed to protect us. Fuck him and the horse he road in on. I want these people replaced with people who will serve the public good. This goes for congress too. I am sick to death of arguing with lazy imbeciles.

The New Year. 2012.

2012-01-01T03:57:00.000-08:00

So the New Year Celebration has come and gone.. I am always grateful that we witnessed no terrorist attacks.. can't help it. I get a bit apprehensive when all those people congregate in Time's Square. You know, the world has changed since 9/11. I never worried before. There is a new fear felt by many. It may be driving a lot of the current divisiveness in the country right now. Fear. I don't know. Just a thought.

Phil and I spent most of the day together. I went out for a bit.. I had to. The day was so beautiful. I bought a few things for dinner and wandered the supermarket aisles talking to my neighbors. It was kinda lovely. I dressed up!

I made BLT's for dinner, along with deviled eggs and cole slaw from KFC. Sorry.. but I think KFC makes the BEST damn cole slaw! I make a special stop just to buy it.

We drank mimosas all day.. lazed on the couch trying to find news, and ultimately ended up watching a movie starring Colin Farrell. I like him. The movie was good. We watched the ball drop. My neighbors set off fireworks and many came outside with noisemakers. Joyous! Really.. cool! All very old-school. I love where I live.

The decorations all come down tomorrow. The year is over. Time to start fresh. I used to keep every decoration up until the "Feast of The Epiphany." No one seems to know what that is anymore and it just looks like I'm lazy about getting the damn Christmas lights put away. So... I've abandoned that and now start the New Year unfettered. Day One.

I enjoy taking down the Christmas decorations as much as I enjoy putting them up. I get to see them once again. I don't really look at them once they are on the tree. I have some beautiful pieces. Some I've bought, but most are presents. Each one is special and reminds me of a person or a time. They are precious. I take great care and put each in its special box. I don't put decorations up willy-nilly anymore. Each decoration on the tree has a special meaning and has to have a special place.

In the next year we will all face challenges.. we have an important election, we have to find meaningful work, we have to remember to help each other through it all and we have to experience more ART. Really. Art changes and teaches and makes life meaningful. I want to read more, this year. I want to go to a museum now and again. I need to see more theatre. My resolutions.

Let us share. Let us learn from each other. Let us find the common ground and grow and change and together discover the divine. (Leave the suspicion, the arrogance, the anger, the divisiveness in 2011.)

We are one person. We are two alone. We are three together. We are four.. each other. (Crosby, Stills, and Nash)

I am unfettered by religious constructs. I do not have the intention of challenging your faith, though I do think you should take a good look at it and at the original intent of that faith. I am tolerant of many things and most beliefs, but I will no longer tolerate beliefs that do not tolerate me. There is an end.

Open your eyes and see the wider more wonderful world of glorious people around you. Your "God" loves "everybody." Why don't you? Look to your own scriptures. Then, look to your politics and "render to Caesar." Why are you all so stupid?

No, that is unkind. But, know this. It is 2012! For Goodness Sake! WAKE UP! I'm done with your archaic beliefs that only support your prejudices. The planet and its people are suffering. Money means NOTHING. Help and understanding and education and art are everything. It is about who we are. Societies are judged by how the least are treated. Take a good look.

If you are looking for heaven, you may be on the wrong track.

My most sincerest wish to all my readers for a Happy New Year. Let us all hope that some sense comes from all this conflict.

xo
m.

Christmas 2011

2011-12-24T01:00:00.000-08:00

All the shopping (gift and food) is done. My final task (a joy... really) today was to have lunch with one of my sisters and together go buy those last minute gifts for Christmas. My 3! sisters and I try to go Christmas shopping together every year, but we are successful only occasionally. If two of us can manage it, then two of us go, but oh! It is so much fun when it is all four of us wandering the mall, checking in on our cell phones, "Look, I found something for your husband!" or "Will this fit your son?" or "If I bought this for you will you look surprised?" or "Come over to the perfume counter.. the line is really short and they'll ring up your daughter's present!" So much fun. When there is just the two of us it is all a little less frenetic, calmer and relaxed. My sister Jenny and I went out today and braved the crowds. We went to an extraordinarily crowded mall... had a plan, bought two items.. one for her boyfriend and one for my dad. Then, we left that awful place and headed for Target. I bought the "toys for tots" that Phil and I do every year and she found something for all the bros-in-law. Then we went to Trader Joe's across the street. I've been scouring different Trader Joe's around town trying to find a Christmas Ham. They are sold out everywhere. I finally bought one at Von's. Oh well. I'm sure it will be fine. It is just for the two of us... Christmas Eve dinner. Our tradition. (A family can be just two.)

Okay, I'm sure you are wondering what I am making. Well! Clearly the Christmas ham and my cranberry sauce (see last year's recipe.) Then.. Brussels sprouts off the stalk with butter, mashed potatoes AND yams with peaches and ginger, a lovely salad. I bought a chocolate grenache for dessert! Yay!

Christmas morning I am cooking brunch for all my family in town. (2 nephews, 2 nieces, 3 sisters, 2 brothers-in-law, 1 boyfriend, 1 girlfriend (my dad's), my dad, my dad's girlfriend's daughter, my dad's caretaker and maybe, if he is feeling well enough to come, my husband. Whew! Quite a crowd. It is all good. It is always like that. (My brother and his 4 kids and his wife celebrate Christmas in Sacramento, of all places. We miss them.)

I am serving, first and foremost... Mimosas.. (You know, champagne and orange juice.) Scrambled eggs, done simply - no added ingredients, okay, well, milk or soy milk or whatever is needed for my weird family's needs, Christmas sausage (my secret), fruit salad, blueberry bread, figs, Honey Baked Ham (the real stuff) and vegetarian sausages I found for my poor dad who after 2 recent heart surgeries has developed gout... He is better now, and home! (I've been VERY strict about his diet.) As my dad would say, "Ain't the internet grand!" Only the actual cooking is left to do.

I start a new show Monday. Yay. Work! Love that. I've been oh so busy during my one week off, but it has been "grand." I'm as happy as I've ever been and I'm sitting here in the middle of the night thinking of all you readers, wishing you the most Merry (Mary) Christmas and Best Holiday Season ever. Things are looking up. They really are. We just have to hold on to hope.

All will be well.

xo

m.

Dad O.

2011-12-20T01:10:00.000-08:00

It is late. My husband has gone to bed. I have these lonesome night times to compose a few little thoughts I wanted to share with y'all.

On my way to work, last week, I had to pause before getting on the freeway so two horses with riders could pass. That is where I live. How cool is that! I smiled all day.

My Dad came HOME today. yeah! Yay! I thought I was going to lose him. But he survived the initial heart surgery and survived the subsequent emergency surgery and is recovering. OH my goodness. He is okay! He is home! We hired 24 hour care for right now. We will never send Dad to a nursing home. He will live in his home til the day he dies. My sister Dedie is a hero. She arranged all this. My dad thinks god made him sick to bring me and my siblings closer together. He actually said this. (This surprised me.) But, you know what? I realized my sisters and my brother are in fact my best friends.

So, I saw snow in the local mountains just in time for Christmas.

I am shopping tomorrow, but only for special people. My Dad's girlfriend.. she needs a really good present. She has been great. This would piss my dead mother off, but... We love her. Helen is so dedicated to my Dad. I know Mom would forgive us. (Dad talks about Mom constantly.)

This post is a a little more personal than I usually post. I like to be less direct. But. I am overwhelmed with happiness that Dad O is back home.

Oh... that is is what I've always called my dad... Dad O. Don't know why. It is one of those things that just is.

Hope y'all have a Great Holiday Season!

xoxo
m.

My Day, Today.

2011-12-12T00:03:00.000-08:00

OOh, I feel So Connected! So silly... I have an Ipad now. Can't write my blog on it. Different companies are arguing over apps.

OH. So cool, I can connect to Icloud and get my Itunes... No... I don't have Intel inside... need a newer computer.

I can use Amazon Cloud! No, I need to use a different notebook. Ok..

I'll go to my Tmobile account and download my pics! No, I have to have an android device to use this.

Fuck.

Yes... I've found the ways around all of this, but it is an unnecessary pain in the ass!

Competing companies are spoiling my high! Had to go "low tech" and use my computer to write this. LOL
Really, makes me laugh.

Love the Ipad. Love it. Hope it will be able to help me more... later.

My husband recently told me, "I love how you walk. You hold your head up high and have good posture." I remember when I made the decision to walk this way. In 1972 my dear friend Guy de Garcia was walking down some street in Berkeley. His head was high and he never looked at the ground. I loved the way he looked. So confident, so serene. I thought, "This is it. This is the way to approach the world." I've never looked down ever since. Sometimes one will trip, but the view is so much better from up here, looking ahead!

I am currently stage managing "The Night Watcher" at the Kurt Douglas Theatre in Culver City. This is a play written and performed by Charlayne Woodard. She is A National Treasure. Directed by (who we call) Broadway Dan Sullivan. It is brilliant. THIS is why I do theatre. She and I are so in sync that the show has a finesse you will not see elsewhere. We close in a week. Come and see us!

My dad is doing better than we could have ever expected, after 2! heart surgeries, one an emergency to save his life. He will be home by Christmas.

It is getting late and I am giving a final tomorrow at 8am. But, I am looking forward to the day. I will miss these lovely students. I wish them all the luck and good connections in the world.

xo

The Day As It Is.

2011-11-30T01:30:00.000-08:00

So.
It has been a while. Missed you.

I've been a bit busy. My father has had open heart surgery and then, less than a week later, emergency open-heart surgery. He is finally slowly recovering. He went into the hospital my first day of rehearsal; we've now opened and are running and he is out of the ICU. It has been scary for a while. Thank goodness, he is recovering.

My current show is remarkable. THE NIGHT WATCHER, written and performed by Charlayne Woodard. She is a National Treasure. The country has yet to see it. She is the story teller of our lives. If you are in L.A. you must take an evening and see her. Truly... we are doing great theatre. (We are at the Kirk Douglas Theatre in Culver City.) You won't be disappointed. I'm so proud of her and my work with her. Please come!

I am watching the Los Angeles Police dismantle Occupy L.A. right now. In real time. I'm a little confused by Occupy L.A. They've been offered office space free for 10 years. Why not take that and start a real movement? Feels like such a gift to me. What we could have done with that in 1970. Really.

Ultimately you can't protest for the sake of protesting. You have to finally DO something. These children, new to protesting need to appreciate the world has changed and take the opportunities offered.

Take a look at how organized the Black Panthers were. How about all the work Martin Luther King did to organize. You can't just sit in a park. This all has to be bigger than yourself.

I agree with near everything the protesters want. But... it has all become about something else. They have turned this into a free speech movement. Hmmm, I thought it was about the banks and Wall Street and the Super Rich playing against the rest of us. Wasn't all of this supposed to be about who gets the most money?

Money, money, money.... I don't work for money... okay.. I do... But, mostly I work for my art. My life is my art. The money I earn seems to be calculated by how valuable my art is to most people. You know what? I'm okay with that. I think my art is worth trillions of dollars.

I think the art of my colleagues and friends are worth much more than that.

I think all of us, every single one of us, needs to reach out and find someone who needs help.

I think we have to give up on government to help us. I think we almost need to adopt Amish ways and always help our neighbor. Really. Look next door.

You know, you don't have to "wake up happy" but you do need to wake up and face each new day with a little bit of joy. Trust me. It makes all the difference in the world.

xoxo
so glad you stayed with me, my friends.

Dear Prudence.

2011-10-14T01:12:00.000-07:00

So, politics lately... WTF. No, you know what.. I can say it, "What the fuck?" I heard that congress spent today again arguing about abortion. Yeah, you know what? No one is a fan of abortion. It is a horrible form of birth control. But! Women and their doctors need to make these horrible decisions, not congress. I am past the age of child-bearing and yet I worry about all our young women. Congress seems intent on passing legislation re: miscarriages. I don't get this. Don't these people understand that miscarriages are nature's way of correcting mistakes? Oh, yeah, I forgot. They don't believe in nature. They would prefer mothers to die in an attempt to keep an inviable fetus alive and leave the living children motherless then deny those children basic health care or support of any kind.
Since 1976 there has been a law preventing government from paying for abortions. Abortions are in fact legal in this country as long as the government doesn't pay for it. Ok. I'll buy that. Some people don't want their tax dollars spent on something that is diametrically opposed to "right to life." I get it. Why do we have to keep talking about it? This is a law on the books. If you don't believe in abortion, don't have one. If you need an abortion, pay for it yourself. Ok. Got it. Leave it. If you think it is murder, change the constitution, and then be prepared for the consequences and take care of those thousand unwanted children and those poor desperate women looking for some relief. You men need to take a little more responsibility here. Stop raping. Stop impregnating. Stop forcing. Stop cajoling. Stop threatening. Stop taking advantage. Stop. (Oh, and STOP having sex.)

The larger problem is that abortion is not what the country cares about right now. People need jobs! You've read my blog... work is hard to find. Could I help to make ends meet working at a fast-food restaurant? Well, of course. Will they hire me? No. I'm 57 years old. I have a BA and a year of graduate work. The low income employers will not spend the time to train me when they risk losing me to a better job. This is the reality. And health care? Those low income jobs do not offer health care. They will keep one to 39 hours a week so one is always a part-time worker.

I teach on Mondays at USC. It is a part-time job I've had for years. I teach on Mondays because in my business that is my day off. When I do get a "full-time" job I work Tuesdays thru Sundays. When I'm working, I work 7 days a week. Theatre is what I know and what I do well. I'm lucky right now. I've work until well into June. But my work doesn't exist unless people support the arts. (Oh, and I make less now than I did in the 1980s. Substantially less.)

I support the "Occupy Wall Street." I don't care that they don't have a concrete solution. I support and agree with their frustration. I will never understand the Supreme Court decision to make corporations individuals and allow all that 1% money to flow to ultra right conservatives. I feel like our democracy has been stolen from us.

Not what I ever want to talk about. I hate this stuff. I NEED to stay light and happy and optimistic each and every day. I have to think of my family. Day to day we have to more than survive. We have to thrive. We have to make each day count for something.

At least once a couple of weeks I have to talk to our health insurance company. We see doctors all months of the year. We talk to doctors nearly every week. That is the world one lives in when one has a spouse with a chronic disease. It's okay. I accept that. But does our do nothing congress have to make everyday life more difficult?

Who are these people controlling our lives? Why does my husband's drug for MS cost $40,000 a year? Really? Are you fucking kidding me? We already pay nearly nine grand a year for the privilege of coverage. Our co-pay is so high we have a charity paying part of it. I HATE this.

There is something just plain wrong here.

And yet, I will wake up happy every morning, hoping and looking at the new day. My husband does the same thing. Maybe today will be better.

So.. we start the day with hope and will not be deterred. The sun is up. The sky is blue. It's beautiful and so are you.

Dear Prudence. Won't you come out to play?

Kinda Perfect Day.

2011-10-05T01:00:00.000-07:00

No more rants right now. I'm just tired of being angry.

I love the protests going on all over the country. I love the "Occupy Wall Street." I think we are finally seeing a "grass-roots" response to what has been going on in our country. The Tea-Party was never grass-roots, as we've all finally discovered. (Though some members may still believe that so.)

I had a beautiful day. My husband can no longer walk any real distance at all. He has always taken himself to a particularly good dentist in West L.A. by himself. (He's been seeing this dentist for a very long time and when we moved was not willing to change dentists.) Parking in West L.A. and very adjacent Brentwood is expensive. In the past, he'd find a meter on the street and could use his handicapped placard and his cane. (The dentist is in a medical building that provides handicapped spaces, but they are always in use and are always VERY expensive.) He can't walk from "up the street" anymore. I drove him today. I let him off and we agreed I'd come back when he was finished with his appointment.

Well. We were very far from our home. But. We were very close to to my first school. Down the block and on the same street as Phil's dentist, St. Sebastian's School where I started kindergarten 52 years ago last month. I was 4. My mother was in labor with my sister so my older brother and my Dad had to take me to school. I didn't know it then, but my brother hung outside the kindergarten room and watched me thru the window until he was sure I was ok. Yeah! Brothers are good!

I walked around a neighborhood I hadn't walked since I was about 6. I parked near the apartment my mother rented for us all on Ohio St. I gazed up at the 2nd floor apt. and made the walk to the school as I'd done many times in 1958-1959. I remembered there was a field we crossed as a short cut. The field is long gone, all apartments now. I once lost a precious piece of jewelry my mother let me wear to school one day. A crucifix. I lost it in that field. I looked for it yet again, today.. over the paved parking lots and outside the new buildings. How could I not?

When I started school St. Sebastian's had a small wooden church across the street from the school. The parish tore it down and built a larger church. I remember, at 6 years old, "Oh, no! My Church will be too big!" I was sad. I'd had my first communion in the old church. When the new rebuilt one opened it seemed overwhelmingly large and too new. Right at that time Vatican II came in. Everything about the church was less magical. I can't explain it right now. But, at 6 years old, it all felt different, foreign and ultimately less.

I went into the church today. You know? It is still a tiny little church. It smelled right. It was open to all, in the middle of the day. I looked for someone to talk to... to say, "I've not been here in 50 years.." and there was no one. The church was wide open. I was astounded by the trust, as I trusted when I was young, that no one would dare defame a church left open. I felt welcome and safe. Hm. Hope.

Thinking I still had time I walked up the very long hill to the Dentist's Office hoping to use the restroom. By the time I'd walked a much longer distance than I'd expected, Phil was done with his appointment and ready to leave. Oh, great. The car is 1/2 a mile away. Uh. Sorry, honey, wait right here! (I walked very quickly back to the car.)

We decided to get off the freeway early to stop at Forensis Farms. (My dad knows the farmer... his name is John, so we call it: Farmer John's!) Phil and I bought the always amazingly good corn and the most beautiful and tasteful tomatoes ever grown. We bought a huge green/red/yellow/orange pepper so perfect I want to display it and never eat it. Then, encouraged, we went to Trader Joe's. Phil was feeling up to it.

Back again to home. I made some necessary calls to our insurance company and arranged for another round of meds for my dear husband. Then, both of us sat and played online on our separate computers until dinner. (I made BLT's with those beautiful tomatoes and cooked some of the luscious corn.) We watched a little Keith, we watched Ken Burn's Prohibition, we watched a little Netflix.

Right now I'm listening to coyotes howl.

Kinda perfect day.

My New Rant.

2011-10-02T01:53:00.000-07:00

My disbelief in what Americans will buy these days is stretched to its limit. When did we become a country that was more religious and less rational? I did not grow up this way and I was raised Catholic! We, my family and I, have always believed in the separation of Church and State. When did this become an issue?

Who are these people who want to put religion back into the constitution? Why do they want to take away rights all the time saying they want the government to have less power? Do they have an inkling of understanding that to enforce what they want, they need the government? When they say, "Cut taxes, not defense" it is an oxymoron. Do they even understand the word "oxymoron."?

No, because they are "morons." I may not know where to put the period in my piece, but I know the difference between piece and peace. I know that there and their and they're are different words and mean different things. I know its and it's have very different meanings. I know were, where, we're are in fact different words and board and bored do not mean the same thing. Your, you're communicate different meanings. What the fuck.

I'm listening and reading people who can't communicate in their own language. They are running for President! Doesn't that disturb you on some level? Really? It doesn't? Is it because you don't know how to use your own language? So.. you want everyone to be as dumb as you are? Really? The President? You want to have a beer with him? Wouldn't you rather he/she make the choices you can't make? Wouldn't you rather have someone smarter than you who could lead the planet to new beginnings?

Really. Grow up. Listen. Look. Who is smarter. We want the smartest person to be President. NOT the guy we want to hang with. He's okay. But, can he talk to the world?

WAKE UP! We cannot have the religious right take over the country. I'm honestly worried about this. We need clear thinkers. We need to pay attention to our Nobel Laurate Economists. We need to listen to our scientists. We need to be smart.

Ok.
My Rant.
Done.
xo.

More About California.

2011-09-22T01:39:00.000-07:00

I told my father about my husband and my attempts to have day vacations. Local things where I could get us back in time to have dinner at home.

So, my Dad said, "How about San Francisquito Canyon?" (Think: San Francis Quito. Then you can pronounce it.) My dear husband and I traveled the complicated route off the Golden State Freeway into Saugus, some strange directions through very populated areas and made a left. My goodness. Such a wilderness! Thanks Dad! We traveled up and up over a very circuitous route and then up and over the San Andreas Fault and back again. We saw desert wildness and calmer woodlands. We found a pasture with American Buffalo! I've never seen them in California before! Llamas, yes, Ostriches, yes. But Buffalo? Too cool and new.

The adventure was completely new and took us 3 hours from home.. round trip!

It stuns me how much is right here.

My mother traveled to Italy once, and the Italians asked her, "Why would you come here when you are from California? We want to go there!"

She also told me, "There is a no more beautiful place than California." She showed me the state when I was a child. She took me to Yosemite, to the Muir Woods, to San Francisco. She showed me Tahoe and the High Desert, the Sierras, Santa Cruz, Monterey, Big Sur and San Diego. She took me to every mission in the state. I have to agree with her. What a GREAT place to live and learn and continually discover. I am constantly discovering and re-discovering new dimensions to this wondrous place. I think California might be heaven.

Phil and I can walk out our door and within 5 blocks be in the wilderness. Within 2 miles we are in the Angeles National Forest. In the car we can be at 5000 feet in about 18 minutes. Oh! What a gift.

I miss the ocean, but he does not. I drag him to the sea every now and again. It is a little farther. But, Oh! the Ocean! And there it is, about 45 minutes away.

My home. My California. My big open spaces.

What I've Been Doing.

2011-09-18T00:38:00.000-07:00

I miss talking to my best friends. I love spending time with my husband. And... I miss my friends. I have one friend who has become a pen-pal. How wonderful is that? And how cool. We are intimate in letters, albeit, email letters. It doesn't matter, the communication comes from talking with written words. I love that.

I have another dear friend I need to call. Oh, Nansi, I miss you so. Our timing is just off right now. I will call.. soon.

I got back from 7 weeks away. I'm spending a lot of time with my husband. We miss each other so when we are apart and my work has always kept us away from each other too often. Now is the time to spend time.. together.

We've taken day trips. Day-tripper. He is really not well enough to go overnight anywhere. We've traveled up to a stream in the San Gabriel Mountains. We've taken the back roads to Free Zuma Beach, we've taken a day trip up to Mt. Pinos near Frasier Park. Ah. So Beautiful and so cool and we are back by 5pm.

I need new directions and new destinations. We are never looking for the city thing. We are looking for a little bit of wilderness and isolation. Next time, I think we'll try east. (And into the desert.)

Not going south. Done that too often, and too recently. By the way, it is almost solid city from LA to San Diego.

Almost.

Yeah, East is next. Joshua Tree National Forest. Yeah. East. Out the 210 (Foothill Fwy) to the 10 (Christopher Columbus Transcontinental Hwy.) Out towards the desert.

And back again.

Sorghum And Other Disconnected Observations.

2011-09-01T12:15:00.000-07:00

Outside the Dept. of Agriculture the "powers that be" are growing sunflowers, corn and sorghum. I looked at the sorghum and thought, "Hmm, that must be sorghum." I have no idea why I thought that. I don't remember ever seeing sorghum before in my life, can't imagine what it is used for, but I just knew. Sorghum. I later looked it up on Google. Yep. Sorghum. What a word. Sorghum.

Why are there windows on subway trains? Not really much to see. I'm just saying.

Not smart to go out in a Hurricane. Pretty dumb, actually. (I speak from personal experience.)

To my dear East Coast friends: When an earthquake happens "duck and cover." Cover your head with your hands. Duck under a desk or table. Wait until the shaking stops and assess. Do not run around the room in a panic. Do not crowd into an elevator. Do not run outside! Things like bricks are falling from the sky.

Just after one has packed the umbrella and sealed up the box, it starts to rain.

I think as I get older I just don't want to hold my stomach in anymore. Also, my pants tend to fall down.

Off into the late afternoon on a quest for dinner.

Later.

Sorghum...hmmm.

Irene.

2011-08-29T21:52:00.000-07:00

The hurricane was horrible. I don't care that they called it a "tropical storm" in D.C. It was horrible. My theatre company cancelled the performance 25 minutes after I'd left for the theatre. I must have been out of my mind to go out in that wind/rain storm! I did. I left at 10 minutes to 5pm. I got the call in the metro... about 5:15, underground, just before I made my connection. I turned around and went back. I met several of my actors traveling back to our apartments. We were all a little leery about going back out in ALL THAT WEATHER!

I'd heard from my assistants that they'd emailed everyone, but I knew many actors (per my instruction) had left very early to get to the theatre and wouldn't see an email. I'd already received several voice mails and texts asking me if the show was on. Many had seen the show was cancelled on twitter or facebook wanting confirmation before I could get to them. Really, they saw twitter and facebook before I knew.
I realized I needed to tell each of them, from me, the show was indeed cancelled. I stood in the Eastern Market Metro Station and did just that. I texted them all. Some told me later it was the only message they received. Glad I spent the time and didn't depend on anyone else.

As I made my way back the storm increased. It was about 6pm at this point. The worst of the storm was supposed to hit at 8pm and last until 4am. It was DAMN scary at 6pm. Debris was flying all around. My umbrella was doing that weird back and forth thing, wind one way, then the other. I was soaked, thru my raincoat. I had slipped earlier and didn't realize I'd torn a seam on my shoe and wrenched my knee. My feet were cold and wet. I'd packed my backpack just as a stage manager would.. with matches in a plastic baggy, with an am/fm radio, again in a baggy, clean dry socks, clean underwear, a new shirt, travel toothbrush and toothpaste, all my medications, deodorant... You get the idea. I was ready! But I was on my way back to my apartment, thank goodness! (All was soaked thru except the items in baggies. My backpack provided zero protection.)

I got to the apartment and the key was very stiff. Hard to get the door open. Finally, success and I was in. Had more than a few cocktails, yelled to a couple of people, drank with my neighbor (one of my actors) and went to bed.

The key to the front door did not work at all the next day. A locksmith came later and replaced the locks. They had just worn out! What timing! What if I couldn't get in that one hurricane night?

My fear was real. The danger was real. All who "poo pooed" this should be ashamed. This was a scary and dangerous event. People DIED! Some of my friends have sustained major damage. I have my own pictures. A few feet from the apartment:

Over the Playground fence.

Half a Tree!

More.

And More.

Marines And Buildings And Boats.

2011-08-25T10:53:00.000-07:00

If one gets up early enough, one can enjoy the sight of young marines drilling with rifles. They wear shorts and t-shirts; all looking very handsome and very young. They are children after all. I am so proud of each and every one.

Each morning before 9am they wander out to the playground across the street from my apartment and toss rifles back and forth. They twirl and shoulder. They march. Love it! Sometimes they dress up!

Handsome Gentlemen

Fascinating to be in the nation’s capitol. Tourists everywhere. I went to the waterfront yesterday and a tour boat was leaving in 10 minutes. I jumped on! (Love my boat rides!) I saw all the monuments from the Potomac. Oddly, I have trouble pronouncing “Potomac.” Don’t know why.

The history here is a little overwhelming and after all I’m more interested in nature than man-made artifacts. I enjoy the occasional museum or two but would rather discover the natural world. I’m on a never ending quest looking for the trees and the grasslands in every place I find myself. My heart is then soothed. Ultimately, I wish theatrical events were done in a forest. (Preferably Arden or The Redwoods.)

Hurricane coming Saturday. Earthquake day before yesterday. Odd to be away from home. Oh and home in 11 days!

I dance to my own music. And to ITunes.

I have some pictures to share. In no particular order.

The White House.

The Capitol

The Boat I Took Yesterday!

Hair in my face...

Kennedy Center

The Potomac

The Smithsonian

I Like This One Better.

Rehearsal.

Peeking!

I pointed my camera to the sky... This is the correct angle...

My Little Yard.

The Lincoln Memorial

You Know What This Is!

The FBI

Watergate

View From The Boat.

Always I have to take pictures of flowers!

Hello Cupcake!

Hot, Humid But Smiling In D.C.

2011-07-18T23:00:00.000-07:00

Smoke or be cool. I mean, not hot. Yeah. I'm in D.C. Cool is better. (One can smoke outside restaurants here.) My gosh! It is so hot here! I am not used to the humidity and my hair is so curly!

I got in to D.C. very late Sunday night. I'm a stage manager, so I had to then unpack and set up my household. I was sitting outside at 5am and saw a bird panting, with a worm in its beak. I thought...what are you doing? It is so early! And then, for the first time realized I was watching the "early bird catching the worm."

D.C. is a wondrous place so far. Walking distance to the offices is a street of old world charm. Walking a very short distance takes me to my rehearsal room. (One melts if one tries to walk much further..)

My apartment is charming. I have a washer and dryer in the unit! Yay!

I started work in earnest today. Still moving a little slowly. I've clearly forgotten what jet lag and humidity can do to one. Tomorrow the weather is supposed to turn dangerously hot. Great!

But oh, I love Shakespeare. And he's dead so he won't be offering any contrary notes to the director!

Yay for new things.

How cool to be in the Capitol when all the world is looking.

I'm gonna try to see my congressman while I'm here. What the heck! He is Republican but he is still entrusted to represent me. I want to talk to him! (I write him all the time. His name is Buck McKeon.)

Maybe I'm just enchanted to be in charge of a company again. I love actors.

One (actor) just walked my way. He is walking his little fluffy dog named Fang. We chatted for a few. He leaves on Monday. His show closes Sunday. Ah, well... perhaps we'll work together one day.

I found out today my cast is 40! Yikes! They told me 34, forgetting to count the extras. Should be quite interesting and exciting.

More soon... with pictures!

Leaving. I Am A Gypsy.

2011-07-11T01:23:00.000-07:00

On my way to D.C. this week. I've packed two boxes, clothes and stage manger stuff. Off they go tomorrow.

I don't want to leave. I want the work but I don't want to leave my home. I don't understand why I can get really good paying work on the other coast but can't get work here. It makes no sense. There are a gazillion stage managers on the East Coast. (And yet they hire me.) There are a million out here on the West Coast. The local theatres bring in East Coast stage managers. We keep trading places. How is that efficient or cost-effective?

Theatre has become too weird. I've finally started hearing from colleagues something I've witnessed for a long time. We are losing work due to age discrimination.

Accept it! It is true. I can get my students jobs nearly everywhere. The theatres want applicants trained by me, but they won't hire me.

I'm doing JULIUS CAESAR. I love this! Can't wait. But, I have to travel across the country! Why can't I do this here? Do you see what I am saying?

The Dead and The Living.

Flight Of Fancy.

2011-07-05T02:09:00.000-07:00

So,

I'm watching streaming Netflix... Star Trek Voyager to be precise, and as I watch all the talent and know-how the crew exhibits in the face of constant disaster I start wondering what I would be able to contribute. I'm a very bright individual but all I really know, after all these years, is how to put on a show.

What if we're stuck circling a singularity? Hmm. This crew person says, "Oh, I'll adjust the dilitheum crystals in the engines and we might be able to reverse the polarity of the tachyon waves." Another crew member says, "That would only work if I reprogram the computer to determine the exact moment of event horizon." A third says, "What if I go out in the shuttle craft and send a beacon into the center looking for intelligence?"

What if the Borg want a war? OOOH! Battle Stations! What would my battle station be?

Hmm.
I could say, "Well, I could put on a show! Maybe CORIOLANUS! Yes. That would show those Borg about right and civil liberties and Republicans! "How about HAMLET? Always inspiring. The Borg and Klingons might like that one.""Maybe QED in light of the singularity problem. At least it about science." "How about MAN OF LA MANCHA or CYRANO to lighten the mood?"

Well. I'd be just about useless. I do know how to type and to create documents and use excel. But I only know how to use excel to make charts of theatrical moves. I can upload pictures. Is that helpful?

I'd have to go to the galley and make food. My pork ribs turned out dry today, but the vegetables and macaroni salad were perfect. I could feed the crew! I can make beds and clean floors, though I'm having a bit of trouble getting up from the floor these days. I can negotiate better working conditions. Really useful in a battle. I can hug and do a limited amount of first aid. But... What I really know is THE THEATRE! Really. Come to the holo-deck and See a Show! (Begs the question.. Are there Actors on a Star Ship?)

Looking for one's real value in the face of high tech or other.. catastrophe!

I know. We will always need theatre if only to examine the choices we've made in each and every emergency. Theatre keeps us human. It does not guarantee survival. Theatre comes later or first but not during.

I should take a look at our earthquake kit.

This I Know.

2011-06-30T01:51:00.000-07:00

I took my walk in the early evening yesterday. New for me. I saw a lot of couples, about my age walking. I saw children and single adults walking dogs. I walked and walked. I have to say, it was SO much cooler. It was so nice to see so many people out for a stroll.

I found an Ent.

This was so cool I almost missed it. (In my world this is part of reality.) I did a double take and turned back. Cool. No, WAY Cool.

I've been watching a lot of documentaries lately. Netflix is fantastic. After a lot of reticence on my part I watched Food Inc. Whoa. I'd seen much of the pictures before of animal mistreatment, the cows mostly. But what was eye opening was the farmers' plea to buy "what is good" and "we will grow it for you". We vote with every purchase we make. I like that. I find "Eggland Farms" eggs actually taste better, cook better, and make a better meal. They cost a dollar more. hmm. I'll spend the dollar.

My family on my father's side were all ranchers. I watched Food Inc. seeing an industrial side I never witnessed. I spent every summer at my uncles helping (there is no free ride on a ranch) move cattle from one pasture to another. Those cows were never fed corn. They were never fed. They ate the grass. We got on horses and I watched my cousins and uncles make sure the cattle were eating in the best pasture. It was the way of life. I never saw a cow or chicken or pig treated the way I saw in the film. I've always assumed my family's was the way it was done because that is the way my family did it. The animal was respected in some small way. The cow or pig still ended up at the slaughter house, but the process was not quite so horrific.

I know there are still family ranches like my long dead uncles and cousins in California. If one wants to eat meat, perhaps one should seek out those family ranches.

I learned how to ride barebacked on horses. I learned how to (LITERALLY) hold a bull by his horns. I will never turn my back on ranchers or farmers.

Farmers. Hmm. Some of my family went into growing almonds. They have done very well for themselves. They've had huge plantations but agribusiness takes such a toll.

You know, I really think California should just take care of itself. I've thought this for a long time. We have agriculture. We can feed ourselves. We have wind power. We have oil (off Santa Barbara, so sad)
we have more land than we can populate, agreed it is desert, we have Yosemite and half of Tahoe. We have the only living Redwoods. We have the best Mexican Food in the Country!

This I know.

The Solstice.

2011-06-22T01:37:00.000-07:00

Smokin' cigarettes and watching Captain Kangaroo, now, don't tell me, I've nothin' to do.

Today is the longest day of the year and from my perspective it is the crickets' time to chirp. They are loud and insisting and wandering, into my house. Looking for love in all the wrong places.

The mockingbirds do this bizarre little dance. They flap and jump and then fly off to attack the ravens. The ravens actually look a little sad. They clearly feel antagonized. (Of course, they are trying to steal eggs. They are culpable.)

The longest day of the year. Summer Solstice. Midsummer. And, a Midsummer Night's Dream.

Maybe it is about the madness of the longest day, but maybe it is also about change. Maybe it is about who should be with who... but maybe it is about movement... moving forward.

I don't want to preach or proselytize.

I like watching the ravens and all the other birds battling with them. They are all the predators and are all just protecting their families.

There is a wider war waging.

We need to just calm the fuck down.

Really.

What, are we ravens? Are we mockingbirds? We should be smarter than all of nature, but are we?

I Talk To The Squirrels But They Don't Talk To Me.

2011-06-16T01:43:00.000-07:00

"I'm winding down." Yeah, whatever.

"I need some time to myself." So, STOP talking to me!

"I just need to find myself." Um. You are right there. No, really, you are right there. I see you. Hey, look! I found you!

"No matter where I go, there I am." Ah, wise and insightful!

We spend too much time looking for ourselves. What is that about, really? People say I should learn how to meditate. I meditate just fine thank-you... I was raised Catholic. I know how to meditate. I take walks lasting up to 3 hours. I do not listen to music. I listen to the music of my soul. Okay, that was dorky. I listen to my own thoughts. Sometimes my own thoughts are.. "Oh, a dog barked. Wonder if I know that dog?"

For all that we seem to live in a time of poverty, and I include poverty of the soul, we still manage to be the strangest on the planet. We can't come up with one unifying theory of who we are. Who are we? Republican, Libertarian, Democrat or other... Who the fuck are we? We don't even seem to know. I dream of living in France, but the taxes there are so much higher.

I talk to the dogs. The ones I know bark until I call them by name. Some have seen me so many times they are just bored that I'm walking by. Makes me laugh. They bark at every one else. There is a little beagle that reminds me of a friend of mine, Bonnie. She is a beagle too and used to run around my rehearsal like a mad woman. This beagle up the street runs back and forth, back and forth, barking once and again, looking for my attention. She makes me miss my friend.

I talk to the squirrels too, but they don't listen.

The ravens talk to me. I think they know me. Sometimes they are just too busy fending off the mocking birds taking care of their nests. Quite the battle going on, over my head.

So much is going on. So much life.

So much life.

My Struggle. (And A Bit About The Tonys.)

2011-06-13T01:51:00.000-07:00

I've been talking to a friend of mine lately about nutrition. It can be a complicated subject with doctors and nutritionists and people who've explored the world of food all with differing opinions. I'd like to write about my own experience and my own battle with weight.

I've been overweight most of my life. In high school I weighed 120 pounds and my friends told me, "You'd be so cute if you lost weight." I WAS 120 POUNDS. I wasn't that overweight. Okay, I was 5'2" at the time and could have lost maybe 5 pounds.. but please!

I went to college and discovered my first real boyfriend. Okay, the first one I slept with. He was so obsessed with me that he didn't want me to be desirable to anyone else. He wanted me fat. He took me to hamburger joints at midnight all over Los Angeles. Yeah.. I got up to 150 pounds. I gained 20 pounds my first year in college. (Grass didn't help.)

He and I separated after a couple of years. I didn't have any money and ate only spinach and hamburger for many months. (All I could afford.) I weighed 118 when I met my husband and 113 as I spent more time avoiding men than I did trying to flirt.

I got comfortable. I got busy. I worked a lot. I got fat. Slowly, over many years I made my way (weigh) up to around 206. Yikes. Hard to admit, but I have photos.

I finally got a job that made me happy. (I didn't even realize how unhappy I'd been.) I lost over 60 pounds. I was down to 152. Not perfect, but not too bad. The job required me to walk a lot. I discovered it took less time to walk to work than to drive and look for a place to park. The job required me to walk a lot back and forth from the office to the rehearsal studio. I loved it. I started walking for pleasure. Walking. Really, strolling. I wore flip-flops. I didn't have much time to eat and I tended to eat vegetarian. (I'm allergic to fish, this will come into play later.)

The job ended after four years and I was at a loss. I was looking for work, found something really hard, but kept walking, even out of town. My doctor saw my blood work and asked, "Are you a vegetarian?" I'm not, but I'd been eating like one. Again. I can't eat fish. I was deficient in B12 and folic acid. Fowl doesn't help this. I had to eat red meat now and again. (Or lots of beans.) Pretty girl.

That last job ended and all I could do was sit on the couch and eat. And eat. I gained half of the weight back.

And then I remembered to take my own advice to friends who are depressed. "Shut up and just do something." I started a little weight training. I have two 3 pound weights. I use them. Five minutes a day is all I gave myself. I started with a very few weight lifting exercises. I did ten reps at first, and now I'm up to 30. Some reps are easy.. 10 became 50. My five minute routine is now 15-20 minutes. I like it. But I started small. And I walk. Sometimes it is just up to the main road. Only about a mile. Sometimes I like the way it all feels and I walk five miles. I've decided it just doesn't matter. No pressure.

But, I feel better.

It took me two full weeks to lose a pound. Perseverance is everything. So hard to not be discouraged. I had to train myself to look at the scale only once a week. I've lost 4 pounds since I've had the courage to look at a scale. (I never look at the scale on the way up and I only look at the scale when my clothes are looser!)

It is all okay.

I made potatoes tonight with a little olive oil, rosemary and garlic. So good and no butter. I made turkey burgers with onions and red and yellow bell peppers cut up and inside. No bread. (Okay, I had a tortilla and Phil had pita.) I made a salad. Yes, I used iceburg lettuce, but I augmented it with spinach leaves, tomatoes and basil. All very satisfying and all very tasty!

I can lose weight. I don't even have to sacrifice. I just have to remember to avoid food when I am not hungry and to recognize that when I am hungry, my body is supplying me. I enjoy the feeling of hunger. I enjoy not being overly full. I like walking. I like lifting weights. I like how it all clears my head.

I will be lean.

Then, I'll quit smoking.

lol.

There is an end point here. I've discovered, for myself, that starting small works. A little bit a bit at a time makes all the difference in the world.

love and health to you!

mkk

PS: A random comment. I thought the Tonys were wonderful this year. I appreciate the need to sell ourselves and I think we did a really good job! Excellent! (My heart soared and broke when they finally recognized the brilliant stage manager Beverly Randolph in the memoriam. First time I've ever seen one of us included. I'm proud to have met her. She welcomed me into the Broadway community. She was so kind to me when I was new to Broadway. Thank you for recognizing her contribution!)

Simple Perfection.

2011-06-10T00:13:00.000-07:00

I have some pictures I want to share. They really tell their own story. I want to acknowledge the inspiration for all of this. It is my friend Claudia. She posted some pictures recently of farmland, so beautiful, green and inspirational. Thanks, Claudia!

My Wash in June!

The moss kinda blew me away.

I am two blocks from my house.

The way out of the Wash.

When I was young, we called these Century Plants. We'd convinced ourselves they bloomed once every 100 years and were so delighted every time we saw one bloom!

Really, how many places need to post this sign? Yeah, well I live there!

≈

So Close to Civilization, yet so far.

Hello? Christmas? It is June!

The Stop Sign overgrown with vines. I thought it looked cool.

The Valley.

More of the desert next to my home.

Simple Perfection.

My Rant.

2011-06-03T01:00:00.000-07:00

I'm angry.

I'm angry that my congressman just sent out a flyer that I probably paid for full of lies about the current health care initiative. (He is a Republican and I will write to him tomorrow. I write to him often.)

I'm angry that the co-pay on a drug that helps my husband feel just a bit better is nearly $200. I go to the pharmaceutical company website, and to get help I can't have health insurance. Hmm. With health insurance it is too expensive! I wrote to the corporate office. Let's see what they say.

I'm angry that rich bloated men are stealing our country and nobody on the right seems to see this. (Oh, and the trickle down theory does not seem to work... just, by the way!)

When the government takes money from the Arts, ALL the artists suffer. (So does society... no access! no joy, no thought, no relief.) All the people who work to actualize that art suffer. Doesn't anyone realize artists and the support staff too pay taxes and consume? How stupid are the people running this government? Look at the tax base they are losing.

I see this and I am not an economist. (I am an artist.) We currently buy nothing but food and gas and pay our mortgage. We did spend about $100 on clothes today. Had to. The old clothes were a little thread-bare. No growth here. No growth anywhere. Truly, I'd love to hire a gardener. It is a small ambition. I can't. My very sick husband mows the lawn and cuts the weeds. It's okay. It is cheaper this way. But because there is no work for me, there is no work for the gardener either. Get it?

I'm angry. I know I've talked about this before but lettuce is no longer affordable. Neither are decent tomatoes. (Sorry, the cheap tomatoes taste like crap.) My doctor told me to eat Kale. I thought kale would be cheap. I mean, who likes kale? It is very expensive. I've become the coupon queen. If it isn't on sale... I wait for next week to see if it is.

I'm angry. I heard today that if other countries don't buy our goods after we've spent so much money buying their goods we increase our debt. I challenge you to buy something made in the USA. I buy from American Apparel as much as I can. I try to avoid products made in China, but it is nearly impossible. (The shirt I bought today was made in VietNam.) I can't find clothes made here in any dept. store any more. Why is that?

I'm angry. I'm post menopausal. I fought the good fight years ago so women could have control of their own bodies. Why is abortion such a topic now and again? We won this and now we are losing this. Ladies! Why aren't you angry that the government is trying to control your reproductive rights? I can't fight this battle for you. I did it already. Go! Be Heard!

Oh, and why are proponents of small government trying pass legislation that give you fewer rights? Oh, and cost more? Look to Florida... requiring women seeking abortion to have ultra-sounds. Costs the state more money. Requiring drug testing for people seeking assistance even if there is no suspicion of abuse. When did civil liberties take a holiday?

This is all so stupid. The Republican Party wants to limit government. You know this is true, they say it all the time. Then... they want to impose laws that restrict a woman's right to control her own body. They want to prosecute doctors. They want to feed you a line of crap about how the economy works and they are wrong. Rich people in times of recession/depression hold onto their money. They don't let it "trickle down."

The rich need to pay the price they took to make them rich. They could never have made the money they did without all of us. They owe it to us to pay their fair share of taxes.

Really. Do you think that CEO is smarter than you? I bet he is not smarter than a 6 year old.

Swimming And Driving.

2011-05-29T02:26:00.000-07:00

There are two things Californians don't understand.

1. What do you mean you don't know how to swim? How is that possible? What kind of parents do you have? Then.. I'm reminded that a lot of the country is not near water. Well, even so. Don't you think you should know how to swim? It could save your life!

2. What do you mean you don't know how to drive? You expect everybody to just drive you? Now, admitably I live in LA, and WE LEARN TO DRIVE AT 15! We have to. The public transit here is just plain silly. Then I realized some of you grew up in New York. Yeah. Why would you ever drive? But.. just to have the option to rent a car and get out of the city? So. I don't understand why everyone doesn't learn to drive.

Enough. Just some thoughts. Advice from Mary: Learn to swim!

I took a few pictures with my trusty old phone. I was looking for curiosities and new discoveries. This is all very local, and all about surprises.

Wild Sunflowers

The one that made me stop.

Yikes! Trapped Flowers!

What are these flowers? They bloom all over my mountains.

Look! A Berry! (Oh! I see two!)

I am SO taken with the rose bush producing different colors.

A Surprise over the fence.

woodland

I never saw this before. Breathtaking!

Tequila Doesn't Count.

2011-05-23T02:18:00.000-07:00

Whenever I walk, I experience random thoughts... some make me laugh, some make me consider further, but always I'm distracted by the walk and forget. Yesterday I decided I needed to take a notebook and pen with me so I could record these random thoughts and maybe use them in my blog. Yeah. Didn't use the notebook. My deepest thought was, "Oo, pretty tree!"

My hematologist thinks I should meditate. You know, clear my mind. Think I do that already! I have no problem with empty thoughts.

My husband asks me, "What are you thinking?" I answer honestly, "Maybe we should get one of those bug vacs" just advertised on t.v. I have very present thoughts. I watch and react. In those moments I'm not thinking or worrying about even the next second.

Be that as it may, I will still carry the notebook. Maybe I'll remember to use it!

White wine makes me angry. This is a new discovery. Red wine is pleasant now and again. Tequila doesn't count and vodka makes me happy, yet given a choice I will always drink gin. Hmm.

(I don't know why tequila doesn't count, it just doesn't. Ask my dad.)

I showed you all a picture a long time ago of a cactus that I called "Penis Cactus." I'd found it in San Diego. The other day, I found it again! It is just blocks from my house.

Rabid Penis

A Row!

These are the discoveries that I find so funny. Does anyone know the real name of this growth?
I'd be indebted.

Next, a surprising color from an oleander. In my yard I have white, pink and red. The pink and red were a mistake. I was trying to grow all white, but they are a nice change. (I later added a beautiful peach colored oleander). But the other day I found this and it was so delicate I had to share.

Not My Pink, Not My Peach.
New to me and so very pretty.

My mother loved a flower called plumbago. My dad planted it at the entrance to their property and in special places around the house. It is a very lovely blue.

Plumbago

My dad asked me to take the picture below. It is on his property and part of a drive we take each time we have dinner together. Serene and comforting. He built this road. All by himself.

Dad's Road.

Sometimes I come across flowers that have been bleached by the sun. Especially in Sunland where the sun is so intense, the flowers produce unique colors.

Bleached Roses

I went to an art installation today at Barnsdall Park in Los Angeles. It was GREAT. My friend Heather Carson was one of the featured artists. I have some really lousy pictures but I'll share them with you anyhow. I so enjoyed seeing the amazing work of these artists. I must go to museums more often.

The First Thing I Saw

Approaching Heather's Work

Side Trip, Not Heather's, But Weird Cut Out and Cool

You Can't See It, but the Sea is in the background.

This spoke to me.

oddly, so did this.

A Photograph. Looks like Andrew Wyeth to me.

Sometimes the people are more interesting.

The older child was telling the younger child, "Those are Black Window Spider Eggs under there!"

The Reception.

The Back. I think this was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright.

The Front. I Parked at the bottom of 3 staircases!

One part of three of Heather's Installation.

Titled: Sunset

View from Barnsdall Park

Joy.

2011-05-18T01:43:00.000-07:00

I went to see my dermatologist last week because my skin was itching all over and there was no rash, no hives that I could see. She looked closely, said my skin was dry and asked, "What soap do you use?" Hmm. "Zest." (I like the smell.) She said, "You are NOT a greasy teenage boy. You are too old for Zest! Use Dove and go to Trader Joe's and buy either Vitamin E oil or Lavender oil and use it!" I don't think my insurance will pay for any of this and I know the IRS won't recognize the cost as a medical expense but I bought it all, used it, and 5 days later my skin no longer itches and I smell good!

I show the spots on my hand to my dermatologist and she says, "Yeah! Look at the spots on my hand!" She cracks me up. She is also married to my second cousin. She told me the birthmark I have on my upper thigh is exactly the same as a birthmark on her daughter. Imfeld blood. (Our Swiss family name.)
Oo! We are like the Purple Pimpernel!

I saw my hematologist today (yes, I have a hematologist) and she gave me permission to eat vegetarian again if I only did it for a few months, and "Don't forget the protein!" (I'm not a vegetarian, I just eat that way sometimes...) I love her. I can talk to her about everything! Some doctors are grand! I've been lucky.

I've been saving some pictures for you. One is particularly curious to me:

Unexplained Golf Balls

Look! It is a cache of golf balls right next to the wash I call my river. Okay, yes, there is a golf course near by but it is down river! How did these golf balls accumulate? I don't get it. I stared at this a long time, pondering.

Here is the river (okay, "Wash") and it is clearly flowing downstream toward the golf course. Curiouser and Curiouser.

The Wash... Again.

This is my path to the "Wash". A beautiful walk.

My Path.

I see these gladiolas nearly every year. The owner of the property just lets them be... gladiolas.

The Blooming.

A Surprise
Orchid

Jasmine. Night Blooming or Star?
I can never tell.

Remember when my husband and I took that trip to the beach? Well, I found the photo of the pelicans I took through the windshield of the car. It was a much more amazing sight than this picture shows. I was stunned at how well the California Brown Pelican has come back! They were once endangered. They are back! What a joy!

California Brown Pelican in Flight

After Midnight Scattered Thoughts.

2011-05-11T01:40:00.000-07:00

Free Counters don't work very well. I speak from experience.

The poppy is the State Flower of California. Did you know that?

California Poppy

It is disturbing to me that I can't type what I will later see. Even the "preview" lies. So.. I present this piece as I typed it. I'm done spending time making it look perfect. (I need an editor.)

Perception is nearly everything. In Theater it is everything.

I have a really good feeling that everything is about to turn around. Am I an optimist or a fool?

My peace plant blooms at least twice a year. That is a really good sign.

I'm doing so well with my basil that I've decided to grow thyme.

I hate when aol interrupts my thoughts.

When one forgets the night light one is blind.

We cut down a Japanese Elm 11 years ago. Yesterday I found a volunteer growing behind the oleander. 11 years later! It is easily 8 feet tall. I feel I should let it be.

My walk revealed an exotic poppy.

I love this wild and garish flower. It seems to overgrow everything in its path. How wondrous!

Math still calls to me. I'm thinking about taking another calculus class.

My crippled husband is fixing the brakes on his car. He still changes the oil in both cars. HE IS A MUSICIAN! He should be surrounded by screaming fans and pursued at each appearance. Instead, he helps the homestead. His persistence battling his chronic condition is inspiring. Stunning.

I spend Friday early evenings with my dad. We chat and go to dinner. He gets to finally drink all he wants because I will drive him home. (He loves margaritas, especially at this little place in the valley.)
He is 86. My siblings are all over him. I figure, What the hell. Let him do what he wants to be happy. He has a girlfriend (she is nearly 80) yet he misses my mother every day... I don't know what else I want to say about that.

If you were sitting with me right now, I would divert the conversation back to the poppies.

You know, in California we have a poppy preserve. It is a huge expanse north of Los Angeles where poppies grow. I haven't been there since I was quite small, but my dear husband and I will visit it soon.

I'll send you pictures and wish you were there.

xo.

Perfect.

2011-05-04T02:08:00.000-07:00

I wonder what Geronimo would have thought about the way his name is used today.

I dreamed last night that I was yelling at someone who'd crashed a t.v. character's classic car. The t.v. character said to me, "You know, your hair looks great when you are mad."

What did people use for diapers before diapers? I can only imagine.

Hellboy (You know, Vincent?) gave me flowers.

My sisters and I raised a quail chick (from an egg) and named her "Eagle." She followed us around for a few months til Dad set her "free." Then she followed the gardener.

I once worked with an actor who bought me coffee every day during tech. He is still my friend... 5 years later.

Remember when I told you my cell phone takes her own pictures? Just sees something and flashes the camera? Well, here is some photoshop my cell phone did completely without my permission and on her own. It just showed up. (Weird, huh?)

My Cell Phone's Artistry.

We discovered a new (to us) lake today! Lake Piru. Not far. What a revelation.

Serenity

Beautiful!

And finally, we made it back to the beach...

A Pelican overhead, one of many...

What could be better than where land meets water?

Point Mugu

A brief and very satisfying respite.

We came home to steak quesadillas and pinto beans and zuccini squash with cheese, and watermelon - creations from leftovers. (And streaming Netflix and strawberry ice cream.)

Perfect.

The Second Great Depression.

2011-04-28T19:02:00.000-07:00

Just heard on the news that 29% of Americans believe we are in a depression, not a recession. I'm one of the 29%.

When one cannot afford medications, even when one pays for very expensive private health insurance, it is a sign of depression. (I know I'm depressed!)

When one cannot afford the gas to propel one to work... yet another sign. (Depression.) (Large parts of the country do not have "rapid transit". The option only exists in some large cities, and not all.)

When clipping coupons becomes an important part of each day... we are facing depression.

When workers start traveling state to state (albeit via internet) looking for work, as many of my colleagues do, as I do... we are in fact in a "depression."

When friends, in their late 50's talk about re-inventing themselves, finding another line of work and there is nothing out there... and finally give up because it is just the wrong time for a "start-up" and no one wants to hire anyone over 40, experience be damned...

Regardless of upswings in employment elsewhere, when 30% of one's neighbors are out of work or under-employed, collectively we are struggling through another "Great Depression."

Have you seen the price of lettuce?

When oil companies post record breaking profits as the rest of the country suffers... well, you know.

Let's add natural disaster to the mix. How can one go to work when "work" has blown away?

I'm growing my own basil. It is so much cheaper.

On the other hand, spring is springing.

Politics be damned, we will not be beaten down.

Unbelievable Ice Plant

A Berry Flower

I'd like to call this a river, but it is "The Wash." Half a mile from home.

To Bob And All My Friends.

2011-04-22T02:22:00.000-07:00

The other day I'd intended to write a blog about friends. I'd had a lovely lunch with an occasional good friend and I'd wanted to talk about how there are some people in one's life where time doesn't matter. We won't see each other for months or even years and yet... we can't stop talking. We still have so much in common. I had an entire treatise in my head.

Then, I heard about my old friend Bob. He died friday of a massive heart attack leaving his wife and his two daughters alone. He was 57.

I had not talked to Bob in a good 26 years or more. I know we went to his 30th birthday party. My husband, Phil, sang at his wedding. We were close, once.

I went to the funeral. I knew very few people there.. I knew three. His wife (who only remembered me after I told her Phil had sung at the wedding) and two good old friends I'm embarrassed to say I'd lost touch with.

I feel a bit devastated.

Bob was my friend and was good to me. Time came between us and I lost him long ago. Makes me think of a song at the time written by James Taylor.. "I've seen fire and I've seen rain... But I always thought that I'd see you again."

It never occurred to me that I'd lose him forever. He was part of a family of theatre I had once. It was at the beginning for all of us. Les Moonves was there then. Richard Chamberlain, Patty Duke Austin, Lily Tomlin, Quintin Crisp, Heather Carson.

We were a family. We were 20 something years old. We had the world in our hands. We just didn't know it. I was there and Bob was there.

Out we leapt into the future. We never looked behind and we should have. We should have kept that initial family growing and going into the future together.

There are songs.

Pi or Pie?

2011-04-13T02:09:00.000-07:00

Pi is an enigma. I feel I need to investigate the problem further. I'll keep you posted.

I did a field of vision test today. I failed. Apparently, that is a good thing.

We have new neighbors moving in next door. They are moving in really slowly. I can't seem to get their attention long enough to introduce myself. I feel like I am in an episode of As Time Goes By.

Netflix is good but not perfect. I want it to be perfect!

Remember "will work for food"? Well, I "will work for health insurance"!
(Yes, the placement of the punctuation marks is intentional.)

Oh, and I'm not proud. I will also work for money.

Sometimes one just has to relax.

Are you as annoyed by the Republicans as I am? I really just want them to grow the fuck up already.

Democrats need to find some balls. Ben-wa balls would work. Shit, at this point so would basketballs. Any balls out there looking for a home should contact the Democratic Party as soon as possible. Truly, I think there is employment opportunity here. (Just tell them you have cajones. They will be so impressed you speak Spanish!)

I'm scared to death of my upcoming surgery. I'm afraid it will change the shape of my face. I'm told I will see better, but will I look different to myself? (It is an eyelift. I don't know if I really want it, but, I have very little peripheral vision left. I walk into people I don't see.)

I want to look the way I look.

It is a little like the enigma I'm looking into.

Pi or pie. hmm.

Loganberry, please.

Algorithms That Don't Work.

2011-04-10T02:21:00.000-07:00

Old men get passes. We can't help letting them. When they've been kind and good and generous all their lives, I guess we have to let them, with a disapproving eye, say to the 25 year old Hostess, "You have a beautiful bosom!" We (I) have to point out the sexism, but then accept that someone 85 years old probably knows what he is doing. Especially when he is so solicitous later. (By the way, the 25 year old LOVES him, calls him by his first name.) He offers the disapproving daughter another margarita and wonders if she needs any financial help. He says, "What? I' was giving her a compliment!"

By the way...

There are algorithms for smaller prime numbers, but not for really large ones. None that work. Apparently this is an age old math problem. Apparently, the lack of that algorithm is the basis for all firewalls.

Bohr's model of the atom is inaccurate. I'm just saying.

Einstein was right about many things. I have some suggestions for a nice cleansing shampoo and a cream rinse.

If you look just at my feet you might think I am twenty. I learned a lot from my grandmother. Mostly, by looking at her feet. Yeah. I don't actually wear shoes very often.

The cigarette you need is the one you wish you didn't have to duck out to have. It is the most isolating.

I once was a math major, then a theatre major, then a pre-med major, then a theatre major. Then I got a teaching credential in English. I now work in theatre and teach theatre. Go figure.

Why is my leather couch splitting after only 10 years? The leather chair is fine.

On the very few occasions when the lights go out we are disappointed when the lights come on again.
We enjoyed the challenge of living in the dark.

When are men going to wake up and realize that "women's issues" are not all about abortion?

Imagine.

We Are All Gypsies.

2011-04-07T02:55:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine (dead now) once told me we are gypsies. Like it or not, to make money we have to keep moving. I didn't like what he said. I really thought I could stay in one place, do my art and come home each night, however late.

Well. He was beyond right. Without a theatrical home I am a gypsy. I spent last summer in Seattle and will spend this summer in D.C. Before that I spent 4 summers in San Diego. I've lived in New York and London. I've lived in Las Vegas for a bit off and on, and "on the road." I lived briefly in Denver.. kinda cool and kinda scary! Strange town. Especially at night.

You may think, "What an exciting way to live! You get to travel!" Yeah, I do. I get to mail small boxes of my life to new apartments, buy mustard and pepper and coffee and milk for another new place and figure out the landscape in a short amount of time while I spend 10 hours a day at work. I don't get to go to Disneyland or the equivalent. (Hmm. What is the equivalent of Disneyland? Why am I using that as a basis of comparison?)

I DID get to Buckingham Palace, but, I'd been there before. Hadn't changed in 25 years. In Philadelphia I saw the beautiful train station.. and a strip club. In Seattle, oh.. I love Seattle.. I walked and walked and took 3 boat rides in lakes and in the Sound. Yeah, that was nice. I've seen zoos in nearly every city and on one tour went to all the ballparks I could. But, it is not vacation. It is not what you may imagine.

I am in a new place, no base, no husband, no support and I am working. I try and want to eat at "home" because it is cheaper. (This isn't a party.) I make my lunch each day and try to eat what I can cook.

I don't get to spend my one day off wandering around the Statue of Liberty because I need to shop for the week, or see a friend, or just crawl off the bed long enough to get food and crawl back, under the covers.

I love working in my home town. I have my own bed and my own kitchen. I have my internet connection just the way I like it. I have the smells and I know what channel will bring me HGTV. I have my husband.

Living as a gypsy is part of who I am. I know this. I embrace this. I LOVE the work. I hate the travel. To those of you who are jealous and wish your job took you out of town.. just remember, sometimes you end up in Fresno.

(And you won't have time to tour the almond farms!)

xo

random flowers.

Today.

2011-03-26T13:31:00.000-07:00

The post below entitled "35 Years" was written by my sweet husband. He surprised me this morning with it. Yes! I picked him up in a bar 35 years ago today... he was too beautiful. I can't imagine life without him. He is my family, my heart and my home.

Some Pics:

Hurricane Ridge in Washington with Old Friends

Christmas in Cleveland

In my parents' backyard... a hundred years ago.

Young and Blurry!

35 Years Ago

2011-03-26T09:26:00.000-07:00

Thirty-five years ago tonight we met at The Oar House on Main Street in Santa Monica.
All either one was looking for was a piece of ass.
I got prime choice. You, ground beef with an Afro.
I can't imagine what this mercurial life would be like without you.
Forever genuine and without guile, you are the one true being.
Loving you is like humus.
Can't get enough.

The Art Of Stage Management.

2011-03-25T01:37:00.000-07:00

I've become a little worried that the art of stage management has become less important to producers and directors than it briefly became. I'm seeing a movement that seems to take the stage manager out of the equation, ignoring the vast knowledge and experience a stage manager can bring to a project. I'm wondering if this has to do with ego. Maybe it all has to do with control.

This is a complicated topic. Some directors need to micro-manage to the extent that they are actually doing some of the work a stage manager could do for them. Oh, you want examples? Well... character/scene breakdowns, scheduling and time management. They are not trusting the stage managers to look out for the show. They seem to be afraid of losing some kind of control when in fact the stage managers can easily take over these jobs and free the directors to simply create.

Some theatre companies don't want the stage managers to give notes to the actors after opening. They hire assistant directors to watch the show once a week and give notes. Okay.. makes my job easier in a way... but on a nightly basis this doesn't serve the production as much as the someone who is dedicated and is watching 8 shows a week. A stage manager should be the first to notice when an actor is going off track and can fix it with a quick note at fight call. The rest of the company doesn't have to wait for the assistant director to show up to "fix" the show. The show won't need fixing! (When stage managers give nightly notes we have the added benefit of reducing the actors' stress because a simple fix has been solved in a day.. not in a week.)

The point, I believe, is that the producers are hiring technical stage managers who are very good, but lack a sense of the ultimate goal of theatre: To communicate, to educate, to change the way the audience thinks and to move the audience to action. Producers have lost faith in stage managers and look to an outside eye to note and "fix."

I'm not sure the actors appreciate this interference from someone who is not with them night after night. I think the actors need the eye of someone they've come to trust in rehearsal, tech and performance...

I think the producers are now looking for "less" in a stage manager and not "more."

I know some designers are delighted by this. "Call my cue on this word." "But," the stage manager says..."Sometimes he moves more slowly to this spot and your cue will put him in darkness." "NO" the designer says... call my cue on this word." I've run into this. I don't understand the didactic nature of the instruction. I overheard Jules Fisher say to his colleague Peggy Eisenhower once about me, "leave her alone, she knows where to call the cue." Yeah, he knew I knew what I was doing. But now, designers have no faith and want no help and won't let the stage manager help to figure out exactly where that particular cue should be called. It feels like it is all about power. I don't understand. I thought we were a collaborative group... I thought we were working together to make the show perfect.

I'm not sure the theatre world has yet noticed, but I have. The scope and work and job of the stage manager is becoming that of a technician. Again.

We once were artists.

Mad As A March Hare.

2011-03-18T02:40:00.000-07:00

If you don't strike while the iron is hot the iron gets cold.

A stitch in time saves nine... stitches! Did you know that?

A penny saved is not very much money.

Every closed door opens a window. Great. Now I'm locked in and have to crawl out the window.

Reminds me of a riddle: You are in a room with no place to get out. You have a table, a chair and a mirror in there. How do you get out?

Ready? You stand on the chair, look in the mirror, see what you saw, take the saw, cut the table in half, two halves make a (w)hole... you climb out the hole!

Really dumb, I know.

Who knows the riddle that ends with "a cat with a brick in its mouth" ?

Or... you come to a crossroads. You don't know which road to take. At the entrance to each road there is a man. One right and one left. One man always lies and one man tells the truth. You don't know who is who. What question do you ask the two men to find your way? (This has been around for a long time.)

My brother once told me that after you die your earlobes keep growing. When they (who are "they"?) dig up your dead body... your earlobes are down to your ankles. I believed him FOR YEARS! Fuck him, I actually told people.

My brother also couldn't see very well and every time he saw cattle he said, "Look, Deer!" For years when his sisters saw cattle we said, "Look, Deer!" (Wait, he deserved it!)

My mother sang a bedtime song that was one of my sisters' favorite:
"She sailed away, on a happy summer day, on the back of a crocodile.
'You see' said he, 'I as tame as tame can be, I'll sail you down the Nile.'
The croc winked his eye as she waved them all goodbye, wearing a happy smile.
At the end of the ride, the lady was inside and the smile was on the crocodile."

Another sister and I continually share the same joke again and again:
Be alert. The world needs more lerts.

My Aunt has said to me (ever since I was very little), "Know what?" "Turkey Trot." I never got it, but it amused her endlessly!

The name game was funniest when we did Chuck. (In my family it went like this.. " Chuck Chuck Bo Buck, Banana Fanna Fo... silence... Fe Fi Fo Muck, Chu-uck.)

My mother said "broomsticks" instead of bullshit. She wouldn't let us say "Jeez!" because it was too close to "Jesus." I miss her.

Daffodils And Japan.

2011-03-14T03:15:00.000-07:00

Daffodils are a miracle in and of themselves. (I have twenty blooming on my dining table. $1.67 for ten. A pittance to pay for the joy they bring.)

I humbly offer a couple-three haikus to you, my dear reader. Sometimes clumsy poetry beats out the best prose.

1.

Japan's late winter

blasting and devastating

a graceful people

2.

Spring comes to Nippon

betrayed by earth and water

her people stand strong

3.
It's spring yet I weep
My friends are torn and broken
So much to do

We should all take a lesson from the grace and strength the Japanese people are showing during these most difficult times. Such civility and humanity. My heart breaks as they persevere. We, here in America may be broke and out of work but most of us are finding ways to keep our homes, our treasures and.. our families fed. As much as we might complain, we are still better off than most of the world and we need to remember and know this. And we need to help.

In this world, it is the daffodils that are the miracle. Everything else needs a little help. We must just stop and learn that we all have to come together.

We Don't Need Another Hero...

2011-03-10T02:29:00.000-08:00

"We don't need another hero. We just need to know the way home." Yeah, I'm quoting Mad Max, Beyond Thunderdome. But...I'm also quoting a Tina Turner song. Gives a little more credence to it, don't you think?

We don't need another hero. (I have to ask myself.. another? Who was really the last hero? If you say Reagan, you don't belong here. Go away.)

Life is tough out here outside the 400 people who make the most money in this country. People are scared and voting accordingly because some richer folk think the not rich want to take away the money the richer folk worked so hard to come by. Well, I'm here to tell you, nobody is mad at the just rich folk. We all want to be you. That is part of the American Dream. We are mad at the same people who should infuriate you. Those 400 who hold most of the wealth in this country, control it through congress and contributions and lobbyists and then sit on the cash, are screwing us. They hire domestics and no one else. All other jobs are sent overseas. The tax breaks these richest receive, intended to boost the economy are just ending up in some new version of a savings account. For them. (We are talking about BILLIONS here.) They've tied up the cash. There is nothing to loan or spend or hire. Some kind of apocalypse is simmering, brewing and will come to full boil soon.

We've forgotten "Noblesse Oblige." No, maybe "they've" forgotten. The richest only exist if the populace is okay too. I am afraid the workers of this country will finally rise up and challenge the inequity (and stupidity) displayed by the radical right. I humbly put forward the premise that the radical right is uneducated on the real issues and doesn't understand economics or government. I think the radical right is looking for a demon to blame and does not understand what they stand to lose. They've become pawns. I think that is sad.

Like so many people today, I can't find a job. I work part-time teaching at USC. Yeah, pretty impressive. My primary source of income has always been the theatre. Those jobs have dried up. That means... my husband and I are living on our savings. We are not buying products so are not contributing to the sales tax. We are not paying income tax.. no income, no tax. Can't afford gas. Hmm. Another tax base lost. Foreclosures? No more property tax revenue from those poor folks. Oh, I know, let's tax cigarette smokers! Not too many of us left anymore.

The longer we are all out of work the worse the recession will become. It is self-perpetuating.

Maybe we all need to look to Wisconsin and understand what the fight is really about. The middle-class is in danger of disappearing. Vote Republican if you must, but understand what is really at stake here and how much your party has given away your livelihood.

Oh, and I am a democrat in name only. I vote my conscience. I support us all.

mkk.

SNOW!

2011-02-27T01:22:00.000-08:00

The winter in Sunland has become a glorious cacophony of images and sounds. The sounds of silence. The quiet. The fallen snow. (Can one have a cacophony of silence? Yes. I think so.)

It has SNOWED in my backyard! Love this. Love the weather! Well, my husband thinks I'm weird, I'm obsessed with the Weather Channel. That's okay...I don't care.

It SNOWED in my BACKYARD! Wow! We went to Trader Joe's and it SNOWED on the way back! (I live in Los Angeles, we don't know from snow, we don't even know how to drive in the rain.)

Out here we are confused with rain. We take out our cameras when it hails. Snow just confuses all of us. The children on my block were jumping and screaming, "That's snow! It's snow!" Delighted and dancing. Magical for us. Really!

I know, dear readers, many of you are living in a hell of snow but for us it is weird and unusual and remarkable. We celebrate the snow! Our backyards get snow about once a generation. Once. (I didn't see snow in person until I was 14.)

What a day!

TBD

2011-02-20T02:00:00.000-08:00

Well, what a week. The rain has stopped for now, the neighborhood is blissfully quiet and Phil is sleeping peacefully.

I spent the week writing about union issues (confidential, but I may ultimately be able to share my thoughts here) and about health.. Phil's in particular, he's started a new MS treatment... not going so well, visited with family...sent out yet another email about work... worried about the pap smear I've not had in two years..gotta make that appointment...due for the mammogram and chest xray, have an eye appt. next week and have in general spent way too much time in doctors' offices... sick of it! (lol)

My wrist is better. (I've been unable to scratch my back or pick up two things at once lately.) I'm healing.

I'm grateful I teach. Other work is hard to come by. Ah, well. I have to believe that something will turn up.

In the meantime, I'm spending all the loads of time I have with my husband. Work too often takes me out of town and away. What a joy to be home.

I'd retire now if I could afford it. And yet.. I've so much more to offer!

I'm here and ready to work. Don't employers know that older people need less sleep? (25 year olds need 10 hours of sleep per night, I can do with 7. Really. I have more stamina and I'm not looking to get laid.)

I, I, I, I,
What is wrong with me?
The world is in chaos!

We are fine, we are good. Don't worry about us, let us all try to help our brothers and sisters trying to gain one right.. free speech.

We take it for granted here, but out there.. look! All the Arab people want is Free Speech! (And from that, reform.)

rambling.
mkk.

Close Is For Horseshoes.

2011-02-14T02:17:00.000-08:00

Some thoughts and observations:

My dear nephew just turned 15. I took him out to breakfast the other day and we went to Coco's. Coco's has a menu for those over 55. I remarked how old it made me feel. He asked, "How old are you?" "I'm 56." "You aren't old, it's not like you're 80 or something!" Good boy!

Children will play wildly in parking lots and cautiously in playgrounds. (There may be some social element at work here.)

Crows are bigger at higher elevations. They are called RAVENS!

You only see deer when no one else is looking.

Vodka tastes better with cigarettes. (Maybe the reverse is true too.)

Long walks are good for thinking.

Flowers will out. Even if it's just the dandelion.

Valentine's Day is nice with flowers.

Bamboo controlled is beautiful.

Bamboo out of control is a fire hazard.

Flowers from Dad on Valentine's Day.. oh! Such a wonderful surprise!

Optimism.

Difficult days lead to restful weekends. (Let it be.)

I love crossword puzzles and sudoku. Wakes up my brain.

If you are having coffee later with a friend, don't drink coffee now!

Love being post-menopausal. Miss the children I never had.

Love being married. Why would you not want this? My best friend is with me everyday.

Cooking is community.

Flowers in the house make me happy.

Work makes me happy.

My husband makes me happy.

I got flowers, I got a husband. I'm a happy girl.

I need another job.

Close is for horseshoes.

The Future Keeps Its Secrets.

2011-02-01T01:00:00.000-08:00

I staged managed a very difficult show just last week. We opened a new Performing Arts Center in the San Fernando Valley in Northridge, about 20 miles from downtown Los Angeles ~ The Valley Performing Arts Center. Star-studded and black-tied. Calista Flockhart, Benjamin Bratt, Tyne Daly, Davis Gaines, Arturo Sandoval, Dave Koz, Tom Scott, Bart Simpson (Nancy Cartwright), Doris Roberts, Andy Garcia, Monica Mancini, Carol Vaness, Noah Wiley, Eric Stolz, Jane Kaczmarek, Johnny Mori, Danny Yamamoto and the glorious Keith David. (I'm sure there are more I've forgotten.) Glittery Indeed!

What a week. Long long hours.. little pay.. glorious interaction and communion with long lost colleagues. Exactly what the art needs. Exactly what I needed.

Loved it. Loved it.

So satisfying to work with professionals and colleagues of one's own caliber. The project would have been impossible if the producer/director/writer had not assembled us all. Thank-you Robert Egan! Thanks for bringing the best to this crazy process. I can't imagine how much harder this would have been without you at the helm.

So. We did it. Done. Well Done.

On to the next challenge.

And what, pray tell, will that be?

The future keeps its secrets.

Is Trader Joe's Hiring?

2011-01-21T03:25:00.000-08:00

So much makes me angry and yet I try to ignore and forget those unpleasant things. I prefer to think about the impossible as I try to sleep each night. I think about the doorways and passages to hidden worlds. I prefer to dream about the power of heroes and the way home.

I took a class once, at the hippy UCSC campus, University of California at Santa Cruz called "Birth of A Poet". We kept dream journals. I spent a quarter "finding" myself. (My other classes were in pre-med.) I went back to UCLA. Nothing found, but I did grow. I learned theatre was my calling.

I'm so angry and yet I try to channel my energy into living a good life. This is new. I've spent so much time trying to make money or get enough work-weeks to earn health insurance. Now, all I really want to do is to make a good stress-less life for me and my husband. (Hard to do without "work-weeks".)

I compromise. In my head. I compromise.

I may be done with the theatre world. It has changed so much and the choice I made, so long ago, to stick with regional theatre is compromised. It is not the world I joined with such enthusiasm. It is no longer a world dedicated to the community it serves, but a vehicle for Broadway. (Commercial theater and often without merit beyond entertainment.)

Not me. Not what I wanted to do.

I'm going to go to the smaller venues that answer the local needs. I will make less money, but I will serve my community. I will look to the larger shows that hire me and say "yes." I need the money. Someday... someday I hope to write my own ticket again, but I am now too old in this business.

I don't feel it. I have more stamina than all my 30 something colleagues. I'm better at calling shows than most anyone except Jimmie. I do know how to handle actors except the ones that won't be handled. And for them, the stage managers across the country need the directors to help. (And they don't.)

So.. Does my life in the theatre end because I chose to work regionally? In a way it does. I can't seem to connect with a company.. I'm not very good out here as free-lance. I want a home. Without a home I need to rethink my career.

I wonder if Trader Joe's is hiring.

Thinking Of Dying My Hair.

2011-01-16T00:33:00.000-08:00

I'm getting my upper eyelids lifted. It is not conceit or a desire to look younger, but an immediate need. I can't see very well.

I went to the eye doctor this week complaining how poor my vision was at night. I couldn't really "see" the t.v., even with my glasses. My eyes felt tired.

She said to me... "relax your eyebrows... relax." She then pulled and analyzed and called out incomprehensible numbers to the nurse and handed me a mirror, again saying, "relax your eyebrows." Oh, my gosh. Half my lids were covering half my eyes! Apparently, during the day I open up my eyebrows and widen my eyes just so I can see past the overhanging lids. I showed my husband and my manicurist and my dad. All said, "Wow! Your Doctor is right! I never noticed!" Yeah, me neither.

I've been deceiving myself... god knows I don't look in the mirror without raising my eyebrows first, and I've been deceiving my friends. Apparently I hold my eyes wide open and my eyebrows up ALL DAY LONG! No wonder I'm tired at night and can't see!

Sometimes a simple complaint can lead to a revelation.

I need the surgery to see better. Hmm.. cool. I'll also look younger!

I'm thinking of dying my hair.

We Thank The Cook.

2011-01-14T01:44:00.000-08:00

It is time to look to the future. It is time to stop all gun-related rhetoric. I read an article in the L.A. Times today criticizing Palin. I quote, "In saying her critics "manufactured a blood libel" Sarah Palin deployed a phrase linked to..." You know the rest. (The emphasis is mine.) While I am NOT defending Sarah Palin, I do have to say that I was taken aback by the word "deployed." When trying to articulate the inordinate incivility this country is enduring right now, to use a word like "deployed" feels ill-advised. One deploys troops, not words. Words are spoken or written or used. Sarah Palin used a phrase or said a phrase... She DID NOT DEPLOY a phrase. This is exactly the kind of war wordage and violent rhetoric most of us want to see taken out of our national dialogue. (I could have said "slashed out of our national dialogue" but, again, English offers us far more less inciting words that communicate equally well. I could have used "exorcized" or "edited", "removed" or...)

Our language is rich, truly. We have many choices, so many creative metaphors. Perhaps, as a people we need to find language that is just as strong, but with fewer references to utter destruction.

We are all Americans and we are all people of the Earth. We need to learn to disagree and still love. Surely you have someone in your family who does not agree with you politically. Do you want to kill that person? Of course not! Republican parents have long loved their liberal offspring and Democrats love their right-leaning young. We are children of each other. We grew up together... so... why don't we actually grow up. We can disagree, vehemently. We all do, nearly every Thanksgiving. But we still hug and kiss and thank the cook at the end of the evening.

We argue, sometimes loudly, we sit down to eat, we pray and we hug. We thank the cook.

I deployed no words in this blog. And yet, I was still able to speak my mind.

In America. An Anthem.

2011-01-08T20:49:00.000-08:00

Words and Music by Phil Hilow.

I'm A Taxpayer And I Still Don't Have A Job.

2011-01-07T02:39:00.000-08:00

I was angry earlier tonight. I wanted to write an open letter to Obama and to the Republicans in the House. I lost it. I don't mean I got angrier, I mean... I lost it. I forgot what made me angry. (There were too many choices..)

Some one thing or the other is always making me mad with the government. It may have been the news that now Blue Cross is raising their rates and my rates are higher still. It may have been about Boehner crying.. I'm done with his crying, he is a VERY rich man. I can't find a job. It may have been about the Republicans swearing to read the entire Constitution, to which they are so 'devoted' and in the reading omitted all the controversial passages. Maybe I was angry that two elected congressmen decided to forgo the swearing in and were not legal to vote.. Constitutionally wise. (Um, their platform...)

I don't remember now. The day was all so silly and laughable, and yet... not. These are the people who will decide our fate. I'm furious.

When did we dumb down? I remember my 6th grade teacher telling me we could read and understand the newspapers because they wrote at a 6th grade level to reach everyone. Is that still true?

What happened to the Fourth Estate? I'm VERY disappointed. You all talk about banks and stocks and things I know nothing of. The intricacies of Washington are of NO interest. I need to pay my winter heating bill. I need some income. We are small. We want work. We want healthcare. Everything else is superfluous. Speak up and help us.

I need more than a part-time job. I need to pay for my family's health insurance. I am HAPPY to pay the property tax and other tax that supports my fire dept. and police dept. I support highway improvements. I know the car companies can be more brilliant (I have faith) and I am done with our dependence on oil. Medicine is a whole other bag of beans. Why is every new prescription cost prohibitive? I live this. I know.

My dear husband has been on a VERY expensive therapy for MS. The insurance company pays for all but the co-pay doctor visit. The therapy is not working. We are about to try an oral medicine. The co-pay is nearly $400 per month. Yeah, we have that disposable income. It is sitting, um, right over there, under the couch. The drug company contacted me and said if I could prove we were too poor, they would pay the entire amount. K. Gonna do that. Gonna tell a drug company we are poor. Really. Guess we are.

The point is he needs to try every new therapy. The other point is ... the cost is beyond the pale. His last therapy was an infusion, extremely expensive to the insurance company and free to us, and his new therapy is a pill... oh..$400 dollars co-pay to us a month. So, the drug company will look at my tax returns and decide if we can have the drug for free...I will take advantage.

But. It feels like a scam. I've been through this before with MS drugs. The companies give it to us for a reduced cost and then.. when you really think it is working, they change the rules. I'm a sceptic. I hate this.

I'm reduced to negotiating the health of my husband.

I'm blind-sided and we pay.

National Healthcare was a solution. Congress and the President have failed us. This new Congress is going to fuck us even more.

AND I still don't have a job, Mr. Boehner.

mkk. 1/7/11

It Felt Like Morning All Day.

2011-01-03T02:03:00.000-08:00

I went on a New Year's Day walk. How beautiful the sky appeared after all the rain we've had! My neighbors and animal friends greeted me throughout the walk. I set out on my walk about 1:30 in the afternoon. The first couple I ran into said, "Good Morning." You know I said, "Good Morning" back.

I passed by some of my favorite dogs. Just up the street, my neighbor, Richard, used to have a ferocious golden retriever.. believe it or not.. that never ceased barking at me. Even Richard was amazed. That dog has since died and has been replaced with a Rottweiler. I walk past the house and of course, the dog barks.. but I say, "Good girl. What a good girl doing your job! Oh, what a good dog." The dog stops barking and wiggles her tail and her whole rear end and has since become my friend.

I wander on and come across one of my favorite dogs. He is a white puff behind a very dense fence. He is a teeny tiny dog. He sees me and barks and then spins around and then barks again and then spins around and then barks... until I am out of sight. Weird little dog.

I visit my two boxers who've never barked at me.. they come to their fence to say hello. When the kids from the local high school walk by they can not be quieted. But they never bark at me.

I walked by a home with a new puppy. Sweet. He'd not quite figured out he should be protecting the house and instead just looked sorrowful. He never barked. I wanted to hug him.

I saw a man pushing a baby carriage and walking a very small dog. He was pushing the carriage in the street but insisted the dog stay on the sidewalk. The dog was very joyful, having the time of his life. The man made sure the dog's leash didn't get tangled and wished me a good morning. (It was 2pm.)

I made my way back toward my home, getting on to 3 in the afternoon. I ran into an elderly couple walking. The husband said, "Good Morning!" Then, embarrassed he said, "I guess I should say, Good Afternoon." I said, "It is okay. It feels like morning!" He agreed.

It felt like morning all day.

New Year's Day.

Good Morning!

The Hobbit.

2010-12-27T00:59:00.000-08:00

Caught a show on streaming video tonight about "Ringers." This was a program about fans (fanatics?) of The Lord of the Rings. I found the film very interesting and encouraging, though I worry a bit about people who need to immerse themselves so much in the fantasy world.

I loved LOTR. (I still love that epic journey.) I built (what my mother called) a little shrine to Tolkien and read and reread his books. I studied him and wrote papers for school. That was years ago. I was a pre-teen and a teenager. I am still enthralled by his world and mythology. I still know more about Tolkien's creation than most people. I've explored it. I lived with it and then, I moved on... years ago.

I will admit that I do revisit that wondrous world from time to time.

I'm encouraged by films than examine fandom because the fans seem to take such comfort in stories about reluctant heroes who accomplish world-saving tasks with the help of all peoples, a theme in the documentary tonight. The fanatics are desperate to live in a world where cooperation, goodwill and courage end in victory and salvation. Again, I find this encouraging. I know J.R.R. himself shied away from the fanatics, but I think he'd be pleased to see the hope he gave so many seemingly hopeless people.

I digress. I wanted to talk about my experience with "The Lord of the Rings."

My brother Joe gave me a copy of "The Hobbit" when I was about 10. It was a birthday present my perfect older brother thought I'd like. The book changed my life and I want to thank him. That one book opened up a whole new world of fantasy and exploration. Once I realized I could read more about this wondrous place called Middle Earth I had to get "Lord of the Rings." I started really reading.

Those four books taught me that complicated stories are the best. The longest books are the best because one could live with the characters for such an extended period of time and one didn't have to say good-bye. Not yet.

I started reading voraciously after "The Hobbit." Not just Tolkien, but every fantasy book I could find. I read C.S. Lewis, MacDonald, Piers Anthony, Ursala LeGuin, and then on to Science Fiction. I read Vonnegut and Ray Bradbury and Heinlein. I read Jules Verne and H.G. Wells. I read Ayn Rand (oddly similar) and Stephen King. I read Frank Herbert and Greg Bear. I read Anne Rice and Anne McCaffrey. After that I found Hemmingway. I found the Bronte sisters. I moved on to Robert Ludlum and went into my spy stage. I started reading historical novels. My world changed.

My world changed because my brother gave me a book.

That book was "The Hobbit."

A few months ago I sent the same book to my niece, his daughter. She is already a great reader... But now, who knows where she'll be taken. To read this book for the first time? I envy her and wish her well on the great journey!

See what you've started, my dear brother Joe? Do you remember that unbelievable gift? I am forever in your debt.

xo

Jing Jing Jing-A-Ling.

2010-12-20T23:33:00.000-08:00

I just returned from an amazing whorlwind of a weekend. (Yes, I mean whorl.) It was round about and kinetic, frantic and loads of fun. I took a road-trip with one dear friend and met up with two others.

Paso Robles Babes

This was after the first couple of glasses of wine. (Thanks, Mike for the picture!)

My dear friends from high school. We look a bit older... okay.. I know... we look our age. But to each other we look the same. We certainly seem the same (ask anyone of them). Years since we've been together and I think our joy is apparent. A little bit of a time warp and not.

We've all been married for years, two of us have children. (2 boys and 2 girls between us.. not bad.) Without going into details... We had "the best of times" and have shared some of "the worst of times."

There is something about hanging with people one has known for ... let me see, we all met in 1968. Is that possible? We've known each other for 42 years! Hard to beat that. One sort of has to go back to one's parents and siblings for any longer relationship. (My Aunt will take exception to that comment.) One has to figure, if some one has liked you for 42 years, one is gonna be hard-pressed to do something to change that!

Comfort and community and very good friendship.

Facebook put us all together. Amazing. I'm grateful. We will do this again. We will not wait another 25 or more years. These women are too valuable to lose twice!

And so... back to Christmas!

And back to our little home and our much admired little Christmas tree. Phil finally has his eye surgery tomorrow, fixing a blocked tear duct. I'm nearly done with all the present shopping and just have some holiday brunch shopping to complete. (The stage manager in me wants everything done now, no time to waste!) I've got cookies and bread to bake filling the house with the glorious seasonal smells. If you didn't get a Christmas card from us, I'm sorry, but this season has been just a bit too busy and a bit too short. I'll catch you next year! (Or, you may get a card on the 27th..)

I'm loving and hating all the rain. It is glorious and a pain in the ass all at the same time.

I pick up the hams Thursday. (One for Dad!)

Jing jing jing-a-ling.

Hope Is Like Aspirin.

2010-12-10T02:33:00.000-08:00

I can't stop sneezing. Call me Sneezy. I walk into my own house and sneeze. It is just the time of year. My doctor asks me every time, "Have you taken up your carpets?" YES, years ago. I think it is the heater, but right now the heater is off. Sometimes my doctor says, "What is wrong with your face?" Uh, duh! I'm allergic! He gives me steroids. It helps.

Not what I wanted to talk about. I just started sneezing as I opened this post. Hate that! (Worry not about me, I've lived with this as long as I can remember.)

As I've said so many times, we have to live in hope. But now I think hope may be like aspirin. Did you read the papers? Aspirin may prevent MANY types of cancer. How wonderful is that? The cheapest drug we have may be the most effective.

Hope. Hope is about looking forward. Hope is also about living each day as it comes. I change plans depending on my most handsome husband's ability to wander out of the house. I will (easily) give up my plans to walk or work if he is feeling well enough to leave the house. I want to take him outside! I want to go with him. I don't want him to become isolated and alone. Never. Ever.

My winter days. I'm gearing up for Christmas. I've been shopping. I'm the worst shopper, alone. I can't make a decision. Alone, I can't be rushed, so I spend hours and come home with one thing. I need a partner. My sisters are coming soon.

I don't feel very "Christmassy" this year. The decorations are up but I haven't found "it". My husband is having surgery right before Christmas; we've done all the tests that need to be done and faxed, we have a week and a half until...

Meanwhile, I've yet to correct my students' final project. I've a final to give. But, you know, it is just work. While I take it all very seriously, it is not about our life. Important, but sometimes, less so.
The new year will dawn. It always does. I have (albeit) a brief job, I have a job! All is good.

Thanks Jimmie.

Out of the chaos, my friends give me hope.

I'll take it!

A Little Christmas Story.

2010-12-08T02:19:00.000-08:00

Every year, Christmas Eve has been a remarkable event. I am one of 5 children and one of 4 daughters. Sometimes we'd go to my paternal aunt's for Christmas Eve dinner. We'd play games with our cousins and share little gifts. Sometimes we'd go to my Grandma's house... loved that, she was the best cook and made anisette cookies that sang Christmas. Sometimes we'd go to our lovely neighbor's and she'd include some of my extended family. Her name was Eve and she'd present the most elegant Christmas Eve dinner.

Later, at home, Mom and Dad would let us open one gift from under the tree. (The stockings were still empty. In our house, Santa filled the stockings while we were sleeping.)

Christmas Eve. We could chose to open any package under the tree addressed to us, but somehow, I think my parents guided us to the wrapped book or a fuzzy stuffed animal that would send us happily to sleep.

Oh, and the morning! The five of us would wake each other up. Christmas morning! Get Up! Run downstairs! OH! My parents (and Santa) were extravagant again! So many presents! (There were FIVE of us... a lot of presents under the tree... almost too much. Is that BIG one for me?)

Ah.

But...
We had rules for Christmas morning.

Santa had filled our stockings. We knew we could immediately rush to the fireplace (sometimes a paper fireplace) and look in the stockings. We could open and use everything in the stockings now!

The stockings were filled with new socks or panty-hose (depending on our age and sex). My sisters and I had new veils for church. My brother had a new tie. No oranges or candy. Oh. Right. No Breakfast! We had to fast in those days prior to communion. It didn't matter that we were only 8 years old. Church first. Sacrifice first. Presents later. (Breakfast? Who needs breakfast?)

So... off we'd go to church. Oh, my gosh, we always went to High Mass. The really LONG version of Mass. If you were Catholic, like me, you spent a little time after the really long Mass visiting the Baby Jesus.

As we left the church, the priest and the neighbors and all their kids had to be greeted and wished a Merry Christmas. (We were well-trained children and all on our best behavior... It was Christmas! We were caught up in it ALL... Rewards were yet to come!)

The seven of us (Mom, Dad and the five kids) would climb into the Oldsmobile. Dad would then say, "Let's go out for breakfast!" OH, NO... there were presents waiting at home! Couldn't we just have a little cereal and open the gifts? But NO! (Dad was driving. We didn't have a choice. I realize now, he had a plan. He was just prolonging the anticipation.)

It was torture.

We went to the Jewish Deli. Every year. They were open on Christmas Morning. We had eggs and hash browns and toast and jelly. We spent the entire time begging our father to take us home to the gifts under the tree. He laughed and enjoyed our frustration. He was teasing us. I look back and think, "What a riot!"

FINALLY we'd come home to the tree and all the presents waiting to be opened. It was now about 11 o'clock. Some of us wanted to get out of "church clothes," some of us needed to use the bathroom... yeah, that would be Dad. We never opened a gift without everyone in the room. Now we needed to wait for DAD to get out of the toilet. (Dads can be gross like that.) So, at 13, 9, 7, 4 and 2 we'd wait and wait for Dad. We'd talk and ultimately sing more Christmas songs. Mom would say, "C'mon Dad!"

And Dad, laughing, would finally join us all in the living room.

We took turns each year "playing" Santa. One child was assigned the task of handing out the presents. We'd each get a present and wait until every person had a gift and then open them one at a time all together. We'd thank each other, pick up the paper and move on. PERFECT. Well, that's how it started. Ultimately, we were all under the tree, pulling out the packages labeled with our names. Yeah, Chaos!
Okay, kinda perfect too.

It was now around noon. Our family Christmas was over and we were free to join our friends on the block with our new skateboards or bicycles or Barbie Dolls. We were free to play!

Yay!

Christmas dinner was strictly a family affair and very casual. No pressure. We could join another family or stay home as we pleased. We could play with each other or with friends. We'd always end up singing songs together at the end of the night.

As we grew older, Mom started making breakfast at home. In my late teens we started attending Midnight Mass so the dynamic changed a bit. Suddenly, my siblings and I were in college and we came home but briefly. We started getting married, some of us had children and all of us needed to start new traditions with our spouses. Our old Family Christmas became all about breakfast and the beginnings of a new day.

And to this day... my mother gone, my Dad in fairly good health, many of us come together with the next generation. We eat a Christmas breakfast, go to the toilet, and gather to open presents. We wait for everyone to join us in the family living room. We assign one niece or nephew to play "Santa"; we open presents and chat and sing. Dalila plays the piano. We kiss and love and say good-bye around 2 or 3 pm. We are then free to play! Or, to see the in-laws or to just go home and be oh so grateful to be part of this particular family.

We have a tradition. It is about anticipation and communion. It is about family. It is and has always been about enjoying the holiday... together and apart.

This year, as my mother did for so many years, I'm preparing scrambled eggs, cranberry bread, strawberries and Christmas sausages. We'll eat first and open presents later.

Happy Holidays Dear Readers!

Oh, Tannenbaum! And A Poppy In Winter!

2010-12-06T02:03:00.000-08:00

Christmas trees. No, Really! Christmas Trees! Before we moved to our current home, we bought fresh Christmas trees. The smell! and we could buy one for $20! 12 years ago we bought an artificial tree. After Christmas it was, hmm, I don't remember, about 50 bucks. (We'd discovered I was allergic to the freaking fresh cut Christmas tree!) We've spent 12 years setting up this old school fake tree. It is HUGE! Nearly 7 feet. Beautiful, and it has always looked so real. But... It took a long time to build, a long time to light and then another more joyous day to decorate.

Phil and I are alone. I decorate for the two of us. Maybe one or two friends will drop by. So much work for a tree that took up half our living room and nobody saw. We decided to go smaller but didn't want to pay a lot. We looked on line and found fake trees with lights ranging in price from $9.99 to $350.00. Are you kidding me? Really? We spent 2 days wandering Big Lots, Sears, K-Mart, Target, and... stupidly, the 99 Cent only stores. (Like they'd have a tree for 99 cents.) We felt stupid. We laughed and laughed.

Phil had a GREAT idea. Maybe we could adjust our old fake tree to a smaller version. OH! FREE! Turned out to be a very good idea!

We have created, from the larger tree, a smaller tree. It is now sitting on an end table between the love seat and the matching chair. It is FABULOUS. A little inventiveness and we have a smaller version of the tree we've celebrated for years. PERFECTION. I didn't have to use all my cheap decorations to fill out the tree. The tree is truly a collection of my favorite ornaments, very few bulbs. (It includes Magic Johnson, Superman and an old Brown's bulb. I have the Wicked Witch of the West and several fairies. I have several angels and two birds' nests. One year, one of my sisters gave me a collection of small Santas. They are all on the tree. I've ten apples, an odd bulb or two and some carved pieces, gifts from my time with ANGELS IN AMERICA. I have a dove on top. (Hard to see.)

The old version of the tree was so large we had to rearrange the room. The T.V. ended up blocking the fireplace. I've always wanted the candles in the fireplace for Christmas. (I'm allergic to wood fires, so..)
This year nothing in the room had to change except to put the Peace Plant in that other corner. The beautiful Orchid my sister-in-law gave me still has its place, I just added a single small red bulb. Oh! My home looks Christmasy and perfect! I'll take some pictures and post on facebook.

I will leave you with the State Flower of California. Blooming still in December:

A Poppy in Winter!

I Was Wrong.

2010-11-30T02:09:00.000-08:00

Think of yourself in 10 years. Okay... depending on your age, 15 or 20 years from now. Just take a moment.

You are successful now (or about to be) and your entire future is yet to come. Maybe you are just hitting your peak. (So, you are what, about 38?) You are doing the best work of your life and as the years go by you just become better. Everybody wants to hire you! Everyone has heard of you and wants you for their show. You can't accept all the offers, you make choices that keep you closer to home. You've been to NY and London and back again. You are listed in published scripts as THE stage manager. (You are listed in Who's Who in America.) You teach your profession to the next generation.

Then, time passes and you get older. You keep stage managing shows. You are, of course, wiser. You have more experience than anyone else. You are GOOD. Somehow, you've become less welcome. You look at your career and wonder why. You look around and see the people you've trained get the jobs you need to pay your mortgage and earn your health insurance. There is no rancor here. You are proud of your students. You are happy they have entered into this strange weird work force.

But you wonder. Why not me?

Your recommendation means more than your own resume. Why? The answer can only be youth. Think about it for a sec. Really.

Does management look at one as being a little too long in the tooth?

I thought I was in a business that was age-proof.

I was wrong.

Easy Peasy Cranberry Sauce Recipes.

2010-11-27T01:41:00.000-08:00

As a favor to my dear relatives who were effusive in their praise for my cranberry sauces and asked for the recipes ... Here they are.

Simple Cranberry Sauce. (Everybody likes this and the recipe is on the Ocean Spray Whole Cranberry packet. Look on the back. Take note! I've changed one bit of the instruction, so pay attention.)

First: Use the fresh cranberries, y'all, NOT the canned. Read the entire recipe before you start cooking.

1 cup of water and 1 cup of sugar. Put them in a saucepan and heat and stir to just boiling. Add the rinsed cranberries. Bring it all back to a boil. Reduce the heat and boil gently for 10 FULL minutes. Put a spoon in the serving bowl (so it won't break) and pour in the cranberry sauce. Contrary to the Ocean Spray instruction, DON'T COVER (too much moisture forms inside). Let it get to room temperature. REALLY, don't rush this. Then cover and refrigerate for at least 24 hours. Follow these directions to the letter and you will get perfect cranberry sauce every time! (I promise.)

The cranberry sauce that was the hit yesterday: (I kinda stole this from Food Network, though the amounts are mine.)

Rinse one package of fresh cranberries in a colander. Take one navel orange and grate all the zest on top of the cranberries still in the colander. Set aside and allow them to drain. Meanwhile, cut the now naked navel orange into quarters. Squeeze the juice into a 1 cup container. You should end up with about half a cup of fresh orange juice. Add enough water to the container to equal a cup. Put 1/2 cup of sugar in a small saucepan and add the orange juice and water mixture. (There is a lot of sugar in the orange.) Bring to a boil. Add the cranberries. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat and boil gently for 10 minutes. Be Patient! Boil for 10 minutes! It will reduce beautifully! Add a handful and a half of dried cranberries. (I use Crasains, but I don't think it matters.) Blend gently. Put a metal spoon into your serving bowl to collect the heat. Pour into that serving bowl. Please, allow the mixture to cool to room temperature. THEN cover and refrigerate for 24 hours. Serve.

This recipe is an incredible crowd pleaser! Try it! Even my 18 year old niece loved it. (She is very picky!) My husband eats it like Jello.

I've played with cranberry recipes for a long time. I've tried cinnamon, allspice, ginger and pumpkin pie spice. I've added different fruits, including oranges. I've never had a response like I did this year. I brought 2 kinds of cranberry sauce to Thanksgiving Dinner, the plain and the one I adapted and adopted from "The Best Thing I Ever Ate" on the Food Network. I'm usually taking an entire bowl full of cranberry sauce home. Yesterday, we had a couple of teaspoons left at the end of the meal and our guests were all fighting for the leftovers. (I gave it away, came home and made another entire bowl from scratch for my husband and me. Easy-peasy. Took at total of 15 minutes to create, the rest of the day to get to room temp. and some hours in the fridge.)

To my dear friends and family... Here it is! So easy! You never have to be afraid of Cranberry Sauce again... And you don't have to buy that weird can of ribbed cranberry jelly!

xo.

(By the way... if you really want cranberry jelly and can't abide the whole cranberries, let it cool a bit and put it all in a blender before you put it in the fridge. You will have JELLY.)

Saturday to Saturday.

2010-11-21T02:00:00.000-08:00

Another Saturday. Another very satisfying day. I slept 11 hours or so and got up to a husband cheery and ready for the day. (Cleaning Day!) We have family coming over tomorrow so it was time to scrub the floors and the bathrooms and maybe dust a little. I'd shopped yesterday.

After 11 hours of sleep, I desperately needed coffee first! I had a little breakfast, read the paper, did the Saturday puzzles (love them) and finally took my shower, cleaning the shower as I showered. (small giggle) Easier that way! I joined Phil cleaning the house, spending most of my time on my bathroom and finally taking over the mopping when he needed to collapse. (The MS, remember?)

(Clean House!)

Then, oh, my gosh, I had a ticket to a matinee! Time to get ready!

The theatre is quite close to my house so the drive was easy, no freeways. I arrived early per usual, had a smoke, visited the water fountain and settled in for the performance.

The show should have been a light romp, a fun couple of hours, but the director was a little heavy-handed and the magic was missing. I still had a grand time watching my actor-friend play the only straight role as he tried to add some comedy and float to the otherwise leaden presentation. The set was workable, the lighting mostly good, the sound was near perfect (designed by another friend of mine) and the theatre ...lovely.

I was a little distracted by the phone that rang a bit too long after it was answered and the tie that was left on the floor under the sofa from the first scene through to the end of the performance. (One would hope the stage manager could have seen this from the booth.) The scene shifts were occasionally sloppy and too long. (I can't help noticing these things. Little details make a huge difference though I don't believe the audience realizes it consciously.) Through it all my friend added so much charm to the performance I enjoyed a very pleasant afternoon. I was glad I'd come.

After meeting with my friend for a quick visit I hurried home to cook dinner. I'd bacon left from the dinner I cooked last week, some very fresh tomatoes and an avocado that had to be eaten today! I made burgers with swiss cheese and bacon (and avocado), a little bit of pasta as a side dish and a salad. I had some pickling cucumbers that were so fresh they added just the right crunch and flavor to the salad. Success!

After dinner we watched streaming Netflix (still on our second go-round with Torchwood) and then... off to bed. The first of the holiday festivities begin tomorrow. My brother-in-law and his wife come over for a bit of lunch and a visit before they head up to her family Thanksgiving in San Francisco. Monday, I teach and pick up the Honey Baked Ham. Tuesday, I'll get my nails done and go to Cost-Co with Dad. One of my sisters comes into town Tuesday. (My Aunt is already here.) Wednesday is all about cooking, with a quick stop at the local farmer for some fresh corn. Another two sisters and I are cooking for 24 people. Wow. Still a smaller group than we've had. Easy-Peasy.

Friday will be spent with my husband. He is not well enough to come to Thanksgiving, so we'll have our day with each other on Friday. Then... well, we'll be back to Saturday again.

Happy Thanksgiving y'all! Enjoy your family and friends. Ultimately, it is about the people and the visiting. The food is just the excuse.

xo.

First Person. Living In The Moment.

2010-11-14T02:53:00.000-08:00

It is inevitable. It is the way the world is. Days go by.

Some days are spent with small tasks, small accomplishments.

I got the car smogged. (Okay, that was Thursday.)
The wash is done. (Phil did it. Yesterday.)
The dishes are clean again. (God, the dishes... seems like everyday there are dishes to do!)
I made my bed. (Yesterday and Today!)

I take pleasure and satisfaction in the tiniest tasks, those small accomplishments.

I checked my email. That took a while. I have 3 accounts.

I spent a little less time on facebook and a little more time talking to people.
I walked.
I did some weight lifting. (My arms are a little saggy.)
I bought a ticket to a show and I thought about calling my friend and then I forgot to.

I checked the mail, threw out most of it and filed the rest.

I wandered away and later Phil picked me up at the grocery store.

I made the best dinner ever! (Filet Mignon wrapped with bacon on the bar-b-cue. A salad, some garlic bread, baked potatoes and lima beans.) Marvelous.

I sat with my husband and watched old time television (Dick Van Dyke) and we talked.
He and I ignored today's news.

We'd taped 13 hours of a marathon and didn't watch network television while the taping was going on. Our system wouldn't let us. But, we found a way to use Netflix. (yay) (Hence, the Dick Van Dyke episodes...)

We watched 2 hours of what we'd taped.

He went to bed.

And here I am.

I never worried about tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. I never worried at all. Nothing to be done until Monday. No point worrying. No point anyway.

Tomorrow is Sunday.

Sunday is a bright and wonderful new day. I've lots to do.

Living in the moment works. Always.

Obsession.

2010-11-13T02:20:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking about obsession. The condition, the emotion and what it means. In the last couple of days I've been obsessed with Keith Olbermann and it has made me really think about how I feel about him and his news program. I find I'm watching more Rachel Maddow because of the obsession. It is all good. I gain more insight and become more thoughtful.

I have gone through my life obsessed about one thing or another. My great obsession is clearly Theatre and to a lesser degree, teaching. Though, that may not be true. My calling may in fact be teaching. I'll have to think about that.

I'm talking about the obsession with particular characters or people. My husband and I've spent a lot of time recently watching the latest version of DOCTOR WHO. Okay, I'm obsessed with David Tennant who plays the 10th Doctor. We discovered TORCHWOOD first and I was obsessed with the character Captain Jack Harkness. We discovered Doctor Who because we were looking for more stories about Captain Jack. We've been re-watching the entire two series, in order this time. So good, and now we understand the very complicated world of Doctor Who.

Yeah, I'm a sci-fi fan. Note: I did not say fanatic. I love the time-travel conundrum. I love the complication and the discussion afterwards. Takes me away.

Back to obsessions. When I was a kid, 13 or so, I was mad for Star Trek. I went to White Front (The 1966 version of Wal-Mart) and met Leonard Nimoy. I was beside myself! He was signing his first album (I'd bought it long before the signing) and I stood in line with my best friend, Barbara Redding, giggling and gleeful as we made our way to the podium. I touched his arm. He smiled, indulgently. I was in heaven. It was not Leonard Nimoy I'd come to see, but Spock. And it was so special.

At 13 my bedroom was covered with photos cut out from teen magazines. I loved Bobby Sherman and Davy Jones. I loved Spock. (Sorry Bill, I only came to love you after we did a show together.) I loved the idea of Superman. I had what my mother called, "a shrine" to The Lord of the Rings. But that was a book. Okay, for me at the time, THE BOOK. My obsession with those characters was all what I created in my imagination. I became obsessed with Tolkien and read everything he wrote and everything written about him. I think I still have his obituary somewhere. (In high school and college I wrote every paper about him, when I could. I was an expert!)

Later, my friends will tell you, I became obsessed with Remmington Steele. I loved the character and I loved the romance. It all ended when I saw Pierce Bronson in person. Hmm. Not what I expected.

I loved everyone who played Superman, except the last one. Can't even remember his name. My particular obsession was with Dean Cain. Sadly, not a very good actor, but oh how he looked! He was perfect. I own the DVDs and sit and watch the series Lois and Clark, The New Adventures of Superman still, to this day.

These are all harmless. Harmless obsessions. The danger comes when one becomes obsessed with someone one knows, in real life.

I've managed to avoid this through most of my life, but I clearly have an obsessive nature. What I've discovered is that obsession is the quickest way to end a relationship. Obsession is scary to the object of the obsession. And generally unwanted. Don't you think I'd have learned this in high school? (Though one weird obsession has resulted in a life-long friendship. Another, ultimately healthier obsession has resulted in my marriage. Yes, I was obsessed with Phil. I still am.)

I've been told I'm just passionate.

Maybe. Sometimes I think I'm just a little out of my head.

Obsession is a childhood fantasy that needs to be put away. It took me a long time to understand that. Enjoy the story, but awake to the reality of my day.

"When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things."
Chapter 13, verse 11

I am now full grown. I see more clearly than I did before. Those obsessions are leftovers. Ort in crossword puzzles. I am free of them. And yet, in some small way I am more solitary. I miss Spock in my dreams.

The Truth And Tongue In Cheek.

2010-11-11T01:27:00.000-08:00

It is quiet tonight. No late night parties next door, no dogs barking. Blissful and silent. I like these quiet moments, the alone times. I like them because I am not alone and share my life, my days and evenings with my best friend and dear husband. (One and the same.) He gets plenty of time alone as I wander off to walk or to work or to a meeting or coffee with a friend. He gets the early mornings and I get the late nights. It suits us.

His MS is progressing. We spend a lot of time together and apart, waiting, in doctors' offices. In addition to my father (The Pathologist) who initially recognized his great need, my husband has four doctors. The Internist, The Neurologist, The Hematologist and recently, The Opthamologist. We are looking for a remedy, a new drug or procedure or maybe we are just whistling in the dark optimistically searching for that rare sprinkle of hope.

I spend an inordinate amount of time talking to our insurance company to insure we are covered. I talk to the doctors' billing office to insure the insurance we have is in fact the insurance we have will insure that we will not be unexpectedly out of pocket. Oh, god. So complicated!

We read all the magazines and all the newspaper articles. We search the internet. Because my dad is so well connected, we talk to all the best doctors. Phil's neurologist has even given us his cell phone number! (I don't need advice about the "new" MS treatments. Please don't share. I'll be polite, but trust me, we know it all already.)

Hmm. You may respond with "Oh, Gosh... How are you both?" Dear friends it is okay.

You know why and you know what? It is what it is. He has a chronic condition, a disease that has no cure. It may kill him. The treatments may kill him. What to do?

We live.

I think, "That's your lot in life Lalena... Can't blame ya..."

We do... well. When Phil feels well, well, he mows the lawn, front and back...a little out of his head, he waters and puts the mower away. He does the wash. (We don't have a washing machine or dryer, so this is a once a week trek to the laundramat.) He sometimes takes a prescribed pill he tells me is like cocaine that enables him to go about his day. With or without the pill he pays for all of this. There is always a cost. He collapses. He has a hangover from the exertion and from that pill. He has a difficult next day. And yet... after a bit of frustration and a bit of desperation, he recovers enough to regain his cheery self. "Happy Hilow" some people called him. He is. But he doesn't want to live like this. I understand.

So. The glory has to be in the time we spend together. We share so much. We share everything. We spend a lot of time in front of the t.v. but we don't watch the very expensive programming we pay for. We watch Keith and Rachel, we watch Jeopardy and Project Runway. We watch Brothers and Sisters, mostly because I like it, we watch sports and Cash Cab. Oh, and Sunday Morning (we tape that.) I honestly can't think of anything else on network television or cable that we watch with any regularity. We sit in front of our (finally) flat screen tv and watch netflix or streaming internet television. Brillant!
(So... Doctor Who, Torchwood, all our favorite movies and movies we've never seen... old and new... TWIT tv, old cartoons...endless choices.) OR, we play games. Bananagrams is our current favorite. He can compete in this game. It is not about fast, it is about creating words. We like it. Sometimes he reads to me while I cook dinner. Sometimes we chat while he does the dishes. Sometimes we read the newspaper together. Sometimes he helps me with the crossword. (Is that cheating?) Sometimes I put out cheese and salami and crackers and hummus and we play music and chat. Sometimes we just take a drive. (We can get out of the neighborhood and into the wilderness in two minutes flat!) Sometimes we go to the candy store. (See's)

See? We are okay.

It is just life. A life. Our life. We get to share it with each other and we are lucky.

I wish you all the luck and happiness we have found. (Careful, this might be a curse!)

A Pumpkin Patch In November.

2010-11-07T01:01:00.000-07:00

Yes, it has been too long. I've been living. I've been spending some time with Dad and the nephew. I've been talking to sisters, mostly about Thanksgiving and Christmas Shopping. In my family we start talking about Thanksgiving in February. We don't see each other very often, so these are important discussions.

I've been out of work for a little more than two weeks and it is all okay. I've needed to spend this down time with my dear husband. He needs me more than he will ever tell me, and as long as I don't get too stressed about unemployment, he and I can enjoy this time we spend together! I am determined to continue to have confidence in my reputation. Something will turn up. Nothing to worry about. Nothing to do about it anyway!

Ah, then there is politics. Not sure I really want to go there tonight. I'd rather talk about the wider world, or maybe the more intimate one. Do I need to go into the "life is hard" complaint and what that precludes? How those thoughts stop us from enjoying each new day? Meaning, yeah, so what. Life is hard. Pay your taxes, love your family, make a living.. whatever that means to you... and get on with it! Don't let the fact that living life is so difficult that you forget to actually go out and live your life. Don't sit home, don't sulk. LIVE.

People say, "Follow your bliss." What does that mean, exactly? Seems a little hackneyed to me. I've found that helping someone gives me more joy than any Disneyland trip I've ever taken. (I gave $10 to my nephew the other day, just because. What joy.)

I have some pictures.

This is a group of aging stage managers at breakfast. I was a little "puffy" that day. We all worked together for many years, then things um.. changed. We are all on our own. We still meet for breakfast! How great is that?

I shot this beautiful picture on a walk I took just last week. I call it "Sun through the Clouds." But, it is actually the silver lining we all hope to see.

I love these photos. They speak to me of California Fall, the clear and oddly warm days, the chilly nights. We do have seasons. The days are majestic!

See?

My friend will be delighted that I included some ghost pumpkins in this post! Look! They are in the middle! Oh... so Autumn. I love it!

Happiness may be as simple as a pumpkin patch in November...

1978.

2010-10-27T01:19:00.000-07:00

My Cell Phone And Green Pastures.

2010-10-24T01:34:00.000-07:00

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.

2010-10-20T03:33:00.000-07:00

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.

2010-10-17T02:26:00.000-07:00

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.

2010-10-10T02:26:00.000-07:00

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!

2010-10-08T03:37:00.000-07:00

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?

2010-10-01T02:59:00.000-07:00

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.

A Tribute.

2010-09-25T03:32:00.000-07:00

My dear friend and colleague passed away the other night. I've been grieving and couldn't put words to my feelings.

His name was Frank Bayer. He was more than a friend, he was my mentor. I spent 20 plus years with him at the Taper (C.T.G.) in Los Angeles at the Music Center. He looked out for me, he hired me and he protected and taught me all those years. But after 2005, for reasons better left out of this blog, he returned to NYC. All our lives were in upheaval that year. All of us were left homeless, career-wise. He took it all with good grace, prosaic always.

I remember we ate at California Pizza Kitchen constantly. If it was just the two of us, we'd split a chinese chicken salad and some dumplings. If Jimmie came with us, they'd split the Bolognese Pasta and we'd all share some dumplings. (I'd eat the tequila fettucine.) The three of us would always order the iced tea. Jimmie would say, "No lemon, please." Invariably his tea would come with a lemon wedge. Jimmie would say..."OH! There is lemon in my tea! I didn't ask for lemonade, I wanted TEA! Don't just take it away and take out the lemon... pour me a new glass!" Frank and I found this incredibly funny. (Sorry Jimmie, but we did.) Jimmie would then explain to us, each and every time why this was unacceptable. Every time Frank and I went to CPK without Jimmie and we'd order our usual iced tea, we'd look at each other and say, "Oh, there is LEMON in my tea!" We'd laugh. Silly, but it delighted us both so much.

I remember when Frank had just come off heart surgery and was a little weak. We were doing BLADE TO THE HEAT. I was Jimmie's assistant. Frank and I reveled sitting onstage with all those beautiful men boxing. Thanks, Oliver! Thanks, Jimmie for calling that show so beautifully you made me HOT!
Frank thought that was incredibly funny, but understood.

Thank you Frank for telling me "this too shall pass." You may have said it to me many times before, but the time it really took was on CIDER HOUSE RULES when I was so miserable backstage. You stood up for me and helped me do the best work I could do in a show where I felt at a loss about how to help.

Thank you Frank, looking out for me all those years, assigning me to ANGELS and JELLY'S LAST JAM. You had a confidence in me that I was later to develop for myself. You gave me the really big shows. Thank-you.

Oh, Frank, you cried with me. When my husband was so sick with MS, and I was housebound taking care of him, you convinced me he could do without me for a couple of hours and threw me a dinner party, just to get me out of the house. What a gift. I don't know if I ever thanked you enough for that evening. You served cold carrot soup. New to me and so wonderful!

You made me laugh every time you had a cast party. We'd be done at, oh, 10:45 or so, and arrive at your home around 11pm. You'd throw everyone out at midnight. "That's enough. Go home." Of course, I'd stay.. to clean up and visit. But, you'd still, ultimately throw me out too.

I will never forget when I lost my assistant to another show... okay. it was Jimmie again... you took over and assisted ME! It was Steven Wadsworth's Marivaux play. You were the BEST assistant EVER!
We had so much fun!

I called you last week. Someone answered the phone, a woman. She said you were resting. Oh, Frank, you were dying. I will miss you for the rest of my life.

My dear friend. You gave me my career. You taught me how to keep it. You reminded me we are all gypsies and go where the work leads us. You had no pity when things went bad, instead reminded me that we are stage managers and we take care of the show at hand.

I'm crying.
How can you be gone?

A Thought And RUINED.

2010-09-14T02:50:00.000-07:00

I've been wandering around the internets. I've been checking out my various sites and realize I just have too many places I need to check!

How does one consolidate anymore? I clearly need facebook... I get too much information from it. I need my USC address, my aol address (most everyone has that one), my gmail address (I'm trying to switch to it because it is my actual name and is more "business-like.") Crazy and time confusing.

You know "internets" is a joke, right?

I am heading into the last 5 weeks of RUINED, the play I've done in Seattle and am now doing at the Geffen in Westwood, CA. We were supposed to go to South Africa, but we lost the funding. On so many levels, this was bad news.

My company and I have become activists for the women caught in the civil war in the Congo. The play has done this to us. We can't help it. We expected to go to Africa to help spread the word, but alas. In Seattle we managed to raise nearly $86,000 to send to the Panzi Hospital in the Congo that repairs the sexual damage done to women there. The men rape the women with bayonets and slice into their bladders. It is horrible. Some women are subjected to constant rape and humiliation over months, some are just killed. The Congolese refugees in South Africa say they know how to stop all this... they just need the U.N. to step up. They need help.

Part of the problem is that the Congo is very rich in a compound they call "Coltan." Coltan is used in cell phones across the planet. The forest is being dug up to find this mineral; the government soldiers and the rebel soldiers are all killing for it. They are all fighting for control of the govt. and all are fighting for control of the resource. I've simplified. It is more complicated than I'm able to explain, a civil war is going on.. Somehow, women get caught in the fray and become sexual slaves or worse.

I know this is the most horrifying blog I've written. I tend to stay away from the politics here, but... it is the SHOW I am doing... It has changed me and if you come to see this piece, it will change you.

This fucked up shit is happening, now, on our planet. We HAVE TO STOP IT!

But, know this, the show, RUINED, is ultimately a love story and is about hope. It is nearly a musical. In the business we call it "a show with music." It is a joyful experience and will educate you. Always a good thing. Come to us and be changed. Come to us and learn.
xoxo

A Note and PINK TOES!

2010-09-10T03:16:00.000-07:00

Wishing I had more followers. If you read me, just click the follow button. It would so boost my morale.

I was walking down Broxton Street in Westwood the other day and an attractive 50 something homeless guy called out... "Hey, pretty toes!" Well, you know how manicured I am and I had to smile. The smile encouraged him and he asked me, "If I win the lottery, will you go out with me?" I grinned and said, "Of Course!" I never respond to overtures from people on the street, but I was just so charmed. Apparently, if you compliment my toes, I'm all yours! He then asked me if I would marry him. I told him, "Sorry, Already Married!" I smiled and walked away. Truly, he'd made my day.

Today, I walked down the same street and I witnessed this same man taking to task a university student (UCLA is right here) who had berated one of his fellow street people. He was quite emphatic and very eloquent. He didn't see me, but I was impressed by his passion and compassion.

I was heading down to buy a newspaper so I'd have something to read while I had my solitary dinner. I returned the same way. He saw me 1/2 a block away. "Oh, there she is! Pretty toes! He greeted me and I acknowledged him. He asked again..."We'll go to dinner, right? When I win the lottery?" I said, "Oh! Yes! Of Course!" (I was taken with him.) This time he asked me to leave my husband. He said he'd give me all the money. Oh, what a gift, to have a stranger (now apparently my friend and fiance) offer such a gift. I said, "Oh, yes!"

I've made a friend.

The delight he and I shared is a gift and totally unexpected. "Pretty Toes" was a very good line, to me. It worked. Who knew? He made me smile. That created a connection. I trust that this lovely homeless guy will look out for me now. I love that. I love that he noticed my toes. Silly, but, what are relationships really built on? Casual comments? Yeah, you know, I think so.

I look forward to seeing my admirer again. I know he has also become my protector. For me, a very comforting thought.

Communion.

2010-09-03T03:12:00.000-07:00

In tech again... It is going well. My students are visiting and are more interested in what is happening on stage than what is in my book or what I am doing. Hmm. Inter-resting. I don't give pre-instruction. I am checking their instincts.

I'd normally say at this point, "another show.." But, we are clearly doing a revised version of the show we just did for 6 weeks. The lighting designer Peter, has the biggest challenge. The space is just so different. We are teaching the new crew. They are marvelous. Sound is challenged because our drummer is absent due to a death in the family. Ah, live theatre. Unending problems, but the show "must" go on.

And, on we go.

My attention is focused on the task at hand. I am so happy to be working in LA that the 45 min to 1 1/2 hour drive (traffic) I take each way does not bother me. I'm sorry to be so far away from my cast, but so happy to be with my husband. Fair trade. I get to come home at night.

The Geffen Playhouse allots a full week to tech. We did not need that much time and gave two days of tech over to first day business and spacing. We started tech tonight. In three hours we teched one quarter of the show! (We are fast tech-ers!) We still have 32 1/2 hours left of tech before our first preview. We will be fine tuning and will have a well rehearsed show by then. I may even get an opportunity to work with the understudies. Strange business.

I like the people here. I like the space. I hope they see that I could easily become a member of their family.

In the meantime, we tech, we rehearse, we perform.
We do the job that educates, entertains and informs. We are artists all, and we love the communion.

Living It.

2010-08-19T01:30:00.000-07:00

Home. It is hot, but smells clean. The fans and the swamp cooler work well. When they don't the little air conditioner in the corner cools the whole house. My bedroom. My bedroom. So happy to be back in my bedroom. My bathroom, crispy white. The lawns, front and back are crispy brown. Well, we are under water restriction here. The green lawns some of my neighbors' sport show just how much they ignore the edict to water only twice a week. My lawns are sad little reminders I am not in Seattle anymore.

Oh, and Water Pressure! One moves away from LA and one has real actual water pressure in showers and in the kitchen. I'd forgotten about our sorry little streams, but, the little streams make me happy. I don't need so much, really, to wash my hair. It works. It is just a different sensation. Less luxurious. Less.. water!

Home and getting used to it again. I've decided to take as much of the week off as I can. I do have some household obligations, talking to insurance companies and attending a faculty meeting or two that I can't avoid, but otherwise, I'm trying instead to be with my husband, find time for my father and maybe check in with my sisters and my brother, all of whom I've virtually ignored for 10 weeks. Life has to come back in at some point!

And life, it will. I do what I do to make my life. I need to remember to live it.

Thank You Seattle. (And A Few Pics Of The Stage.)

2010-08-12T00:23:00.000-07:00

I leave for L.A. Monday, around 3pm. I've little more than half a week left up here in the wilds of Seattle. Visiting is done, sightseeing over. I'm prepping for the next round. I can't wait to get back home and cook some decent meals for my husband (and myself.) I miss the clean food.

I'm mailing 2 boxes tomorrow. I think I can put the rest in the suitcase. I need to make sure we've taped an archival worth saving. It is all about endings. Yet, this show continues. I've new information that might indeed still take us to Africa. But, as I've said... I will go with the flow. My next step is seeing the week's shows out and getting on a plane. My next ambition. Getting on the plane!

Thank-you Seattle, for providing me with so many diversions. Thank-you, Seattle, for being a wonderful place to work. I will be back.

The Final Days.

2010-08-11T00:49:00.000-07:00

I had a day yesterday. My brother-in-law's wife.. (my sister out-law?) and I took the ferry to Bainbridge Island out of Seattle. I am all about getting on the water!
Of course the day was rainy... But that made it all the more perfect last Monday in Seattle.

We stood outside in the freezing wind. It was the BEST view!

I was smiling my biggest smile.

The furthest from shore I'd yet been:

A long view of Seattle. Really small. In the distance!

We arrived and I witnessed everyday sights I'd never seen before, so therefore, amazing! The island approaching.

The ferry pulling in.

The ferry arriving.

The cars exiting.

All new. I was delighted. Upon arrival, this wonderous sight:

Wandering around the island...a few choice pix on a rainy wonder-filled day.

My sister-out-law bought me a pink hat!

And now, it is all about leaving. I've two final understudy rehearsals this week. I'm packing boxes. (I've finished one, working on the second. Hope to mail both tomorrow.) I'm busy gathering all the information I will need for the show in Los Angeles. I've given some (very little) thought to my teaching which begins very soon. South Africa seems to be on hold for the moment. We lost our major funding, so who knows what the future will bring. Ever fluid, swirling out of my control. I go with the flow.
I find I'm looking forward to tomorrow.

Be well, my friends.

Miles To Go.

2010-08-06T01:00:00.000-07:00

It is Fleet Week in Seattle. All these beautiful young sailors wandering the waterfront. Huge battleships and smaller tugs. Humid as all get out, but fun too. I caught sight of the Blue Angels, though I'm not fast enough to take a picture. The photo to the left is a "fire boat." Weird, when one sees it from afar and has no idea what is going on down in the Sound.

This is one of the HUGE ships that have come in.

And this is a longer view of some of the boats I was able to capture. Wait... Is that SMOG?

That was today. As I've said, I've been a little overwhelmed by all my pictures, so I will dole them out slowly... Last Monday, on the Harbor Cruise:
I like the picture. A very long view of the city.

I am aching to go home. I really need to pack those boxes and send them off so home will start to feel real. I already feel behind on the work I need to do for LA, and oh, gosh! I start teaching on August 23!

Miles to go before I sleep.

Homeward Bound. I Wish I Was.

2010-08-04T01:03:00.000-07:00

I've not posted in a while. I've been overwhelmed by the pictures I've taken on the, yes, two boat tours I've taken. I just haven't had the energy to sort them out and comment on all I've learned. Suffice it to say...the tours were GREAT.
I look happy! I was! This was on the Puget Sound. It was the second boat tour I took. I like getting out on the water. I am so away from it all out there. I can think of something else besides the show. Activity really creates the day off.

I don't want to write right now about the wonderful days off I've discovered in Seattle. I've come to them a little late. I've one more Monday before I go home. Everyday at work is a day closer. Everyday is more valuable than the next. Everyday takes me through the prep I need to do for Los Angeles and everyday brings me closer to the man I miss so much and the company I need to keep. Everyday is special.

Seattle is indeed a beautiful city. There is much to do here. I've never been bored, not once. Before I leave I will share those photographs, but for now, I just want to appreciate how close I am to returning home. I'm mailing back the boxes of clothes and whatnot I felt I couldn't live without. I've washed my sheets for the last time. I'm eating all the frozen food and will not go back to Trader Joe's in Seattle again, this trip. I bought 99 cent shampoo because I'm running out and shampoo is difficult. It leaks. (I'll leave the shampoo here.) I refuse to buy any more garbage bags. The grocery store will have to supply them. I'm leaving my Trader Joe's reusable bag at home. I never got the better vacuum cleaner I asked for, but you know, I've no intention of vacuuming again, this trip. The days are too close.

I will wander the Marina again. I liked that. I will visit the sculpture garden I've yet to see. I will rehearse my understudies. I will explore, again, a little further than I've yet gone. Then. I'll be home.

The Seagull.

2010-07-29T00:52:00.000-07:00

My drummer has the habit of warming up his hands pre-show, outside. Outside is The Seattle Center. He drums, I smoke for a while and visit with him. Lately, we've had another visitor. A seagull. This lovely bird has been floating down to attend Ron's warm-up.
I come outside to smoke and witness something amazing. The bird is completely intrigued with Ron's drumming and his song. The bird comes closer.
I can't get any closer, because the bird then flies away. Not interested in photos. Just interested in the drum beat and the music. (Ron sings.)

This was two days ago. Ron tells me the bird comes back. Ron was late to 1/2 hour tonight and I was outside. The bird came back. It waited. It wandered around. It looked at me when I played a rhythm with my keys. It flew away. Ron finally came out and the bird returned, wandering around him, listening. Can't get a better picture, the bird is onto me.

But, HOW MARVELOUS!

Trees Of Mystery And Baby Ducks.

2010-07-24T00:15:00.000-07:00

I was trying to find a way to Whole Foods and found myself walking in a somewhat industrial, abandoned neighborhood. Not scary, just not very attractive. I looked across the street and saw this:

It is a tree growing from inside an abandoned building. There were actually 2 or 3 trees. No trunks! Too bizarre. I got closer:

Can you see the trunk? That is inside the building.

The trees have knocked out the upper windows. I couldn't see inside. The lower windows are frosted. Total Twilight Zone moment. I'm trying to imagine the story behind these trees. Was the building an arboretum at one time? It looks like an old office building. Did workers leave behind plants in their abandoned cubicles? Was it a nursery? Hmm. The trees look so healthy! The true Trees of Mystery!

You will be relieved to know I did in fact find Whole Foods. The Seattle Whole Foods has a different recipe for chicken salad, and I was having none of it! I left empty-handed. As I exited I looked north, up the street. I could see a body of water! It was the opposite direction of the Sound. What is this? I had to see.

Apparently I'd found Union Lake. Geese grazing.

And baby ducks!

They are really hard to see. Momma Duck forced them into the water before I could get a good picture. Alas.

Another day filled with small adventures.

These solo sojourns help my head and my body.

How nice to work in a place where one can wander freely.

Northwest Flowers, And A Surprise!

2010-07-22T23:59:00.000-07:00

I continue to wander through the Queen Anne neighborhood in Seattle. It was finally a beautiful sunny day last Monday. I was taken with the brilliance of the summer flowers.

So vivid and bright! I love these very large daisies.

Beauty everywhere I looked.

I came across a lawn filled with dandelions. Oh, how I love dandelions. I just can not think of these little yellow flowers as weeds. My neighbor boy (long since moved) used to come over to our backyard because we had the "magic" flowers. He loved blowing the dandelion seeds (and spreading more!)

I walked to the top of Queen Anne again, then climbed further. There is a neighborhood above the little town at the top of the hill. At the tippy top I found some tennis courts and a fire station. Not really very interesting pictures. I did come across the largest monkey puzzle tree I'd yet seen:

I wandered down this little path.

Then wandered back.

I really felt like I was in a small town.

Steep stairs down.
And more very steep stairs. I treaded carefully! (I trod carefully? - That can't be right.)

The next day (Tuesday) I was less ambitious. I unsuccessfully tried to find the Whole Foods Market. I did manage to get to the opposite side of the Seattle Center. This huge sculpture made me stop.

And, then, of course, I found myself back at the Space Needle. Surprise! I love the bright bright sun in the photo, but was worried the picture would not turn out, so I took this one too:

Beautiful, eh? (Thanks to my sister-in-law for suggesting the angle.)

Tomorrow I will find Whole Foods. I looked it up on the internets! At the very least, I will be walking away from the Space Needle.

Noxious Odors And Changing The World.

2010-07-18T01:27:00.000-07:00

Nauseating and confusing smells pervade the Seattle Center this week-end. It is "Bite of Seattle" and there is no escaping the conflicting odors. I could smell it in the booth. Fried fish (great) fried pastries, fried potatoes, grilled meat, burning sugar. GAH! Thousands of people everywhere eating with sticky fingers, and no place to wash up. Yeah, my idea of a good time. I tried to avoid it all, but... it is RIGHT THERE! They are cooking in the breezeway behind backstage. No escape.

I took only one picture and decided not to get any closer. I'll try again tomorrow to give you the full impact of the crowd. Or... maybe not. Jeeze Louise!

Thankfully, the celebration ends tomorrow. What an old woman I've become! Give me a picnic basket, some "Wet Ones" a blanket and a bit of peace, I'd be happy. Better yet, an al fresco restaurant in Big Sur, with cheery and pleasant looking waiters.

The gluttony I observed today was more than a little bit obscene. The fashion sense even worse! My friend Frank would have appreciated my fashion police sense.

I am hoping next week will bring less stress as we all try to get into a routine with the show. We are doing one really amazing thing. We are raising money for the Panzi Hospital and for outreach to Congolese refugee women. One of the cast makes a curtain speech and several more go out in the lobby with little boxes. Over the course of two shows we've collected more than $5000 dollars. I've gone out to witness this. My eyes tear. People literally empty their wallets. People write $300 checks. We've set up that cell phone text thing, where you can automatically give $10. It is working beautifully, but we don't have the numbers on that yet. This show will change the lives of many women who've been sexually mutilated, abused and enslaved in the Congo. Remarkable. I am doing a piece of theatre that will physically change peoples lives for the better. Stunning. All the remarkable shows I've done and finally... a play that has such a profound effect on the audience that people are driven to do something, anything, and to do it now.

What a dichotomy I witnessed today. An apparent bacchanalia, then, an overwhelming care and concern for people thousands of miles away. Western people are a bit mind-blowing.

Theatre will never die. Theatre has more power than we acknowledge. You my dearest actors, playwrights and directors can, in fact, change the world. I'm watching it happen.

Haunted By Angels.

2010-07-17T01:00:00.000-07:00

All week I've been saying to myself, "Five weeks left." Then I would think, "Five leaves left." Nick Drake's first album from 1968. The music and the thought of the music makes me calm and a little sad. But, it is a good sad.

We have 2 shows tomorrow and 2 on Sunday. I haven't done an 8 show week in over 5 years. I have 2 understudy rehearsals a week. I haven't done that since ANGELS on Broadway, 1993! But it is all better than good.

Speaking of ANGELS (Angels in America, by Tony Kushner), I was recently approached through several round-about means, by a student doing her dissertation on ANGELS... She wants to talk to me about the relationship between George Wolfe and Tony and the creation of the stunning achievement that is ANGELS. I've ignored her for as long as I could. (She's contacted the Intiman, she's contacted my friends... persistant!) She will interview me the first week of August.

In my defense, I've been busy and I've talked to a number of students over the years about ANGELS, been recorded and included in school papers; I've done a web-cast, and, I know all of it is important.

Historic, really. ANGELS is now far in the past for me. I love that I'm so connected with the play, but theatre is alive and moves forward. I've done the same. I'll quote Tony, from Harper's last speech in

ANGELS, "In this world there is a kind of painful progress. Longing for what we've left behind and dreaming ahead." (Or... perhaps more apropos, a line from Prior Walter's final speech in Perestroika, "... and we are not going away.")

Tonight one of my long lost friends from high school came to the show with her husband, her (grown-up) son and her son's girlfriend. I'm not sure I've seen her in 30 years. I saw her after the show tonight with her beautiful family. Both women were still weeping when I got to them. RUINED is that affecting. Thank-goodness for facebook, and the fact that my friend and I had both posted recent photos of ourselves! She saw me and said, "There she is!" We hugged. It was (good) weird. We'd lost each other for so long. She'd not realized I'd done so much theatre. (She'd read my bio in the program.) ... She was so impressed I'd done ANGELS. She said she'd had no idea. ANGELS, again, haunting me.

I'm not complaining. I'm really not. I was 39 then. I've done so much since, much of it worthy of discussion and examination. Yet, ANGELS haunts me.

I told my husband at the time, 1993-94, "I'm so honored and happy I'm doing this, but I want it to be in the past. I want to remember it and look back." I was wishing away my life. The play was that hard. Ask anyone, anywhere, who has done ANGELS. SO Hard. I feel we are all part of a very select club. RUINED is equally difficult in similar ways. And yet, RUINED is, in its way, far more horrifying. RUINED is happening now. Both stories are true. One is of the present.

De dil lee.

I was so happy to see my friend tonight, and her comment about ANGELS brought out this blog.

What I'd really planned to share with you, dear readers, were a couple a three redundant pictures of Seattle!

The Sound... and a park!

A ship on the Sound.

The Seattle skyline...again!

I promise to find a sunny day before I leave.

Missing You.

2010-07-12T01:51:00.000-07:00

Day off tomorrow. Done now until late Tuesday. What a gift. I'll start understudy rehearsals on Wednesday. I'll think about that later.

On some level, I am like Scarlet O'Hara. "I'll think about that tomorrow." It works for me. It allows me to let the day go. I like the philosophy.. even though it didn't work out so well for her!

I want to live in the moment. I don't want to wish away the weeks. I miss my husband and my home, but there is nothing for that. I need to live here and now, walk, explore, hang out, read. I need to live here. I can't spend my days wishing. That is exhausting.

Well. I'm thinking maybe it is just time to go to bed and give myself as much of a day off as I can. I really need to walk. I should explore more and not be so timid. I've all of Seattle!

Missing you.
xo

Another Opening.

2010-07-10T01:15:00.000-07:00

Opening Night. A milestone every time. A marker in the course of our journey. And now we do the real work of presenting and performing and changing minds and teaching. Exciting all.

Just now, as I wrote the word "milestone" I had a picture appear in my head. Something like this:

Or this:

Or maybe this:

I'm not sure I ever connected the concept of "milestone" with the actual reference to a "milestone."

That kind of connection seems to be happening with more frequency lately. I will try to track the phenomena. The words we use have such meaning; concepts that communicate and breathe life into a discussion. Colorful, I guess. "Milestone" is a colorful word. It tells a story. Love that.

So. My happy opening! How lovely to be connected with such talented people. How wonderful to be part of a show so good and so telling. How fantastic to communicate the tale to an audience. I am blessed, honored and humbled to be part of the journey my company and I are taking.

I hope you all get a chance to see "RUINED" by Lynn Nottage. It is well worth the ticket price and may change your life.

xo

We Can See You.

2010-07-07T01:43:00.000-07:00

This is hard. Theatre is hard. We spend so much time developing audiences, pushing the press to recognize us.. working as we do.. to spend scant moments with y'all.

Some days we are doing life changing work! Some days it is really important. We ask you to turn off your cell phones, but you don't. We ask that you recognize the artists' work on the stage.. the show you've just seen, but you seem to think getting to your cars is more important.

Stop. What have you just spent 50 or 70 or 100 dollars for? Really? How much hubris do you have? Not important enough for you?

Stop. Clap. At least appreciate the journey these hard working actors have traveled to present you with a piece. YOU ARE NOT AT A MOVIE. You are able to really give appreciation to the work done on the stage. Take a moment. (We don't like standing ovations that are really about getting to the parking lot sooner.)

Ok, this is not the case with my show.. We have legitimate standing ovations. But I see it all too often. YO! You don't have to stand, but at least give the actors the gift of your appreciation, however small that may be. We are not a movie. We are living breathing things right there in front of you, and we can see you.

Holiday!

2010-07-05T01:12:00.000-07:00

Cracks me up how many people I know show up on t.v. I enjoy everyone's work. I love that they get the money-paying gigs and still come back and do theatre. I love actors.

I had a great time today at the 4th of July party hosted by my director. I'd intended to stay about an hour and ended up staying nearly 4 hours. It was relaxing, excellent food, even better company. It was fun.

I still have tomorrow to finish what I started today. How civilized to have 2 days off. So unheard of in our business. Makes one feel nearly human again.

It rained here nearly all day. It was ok. (I got a little wet, standing in the smoking section...) Hoping you all had a great 4th. Sending good wishes and love to y'all.

My Company, at a party!

Outside the apartment, The smoking section... In the rain.

My Sound Designer, taking a picture of me... dancing...dancing.

Keys And Pockets.

2010-07-03T00:58:00.000-07:00

I have been given three keys. One is the size of a house key. One is much larger. Number 3 key is HUGE.

One lets me into my apartment. The ginormous one lets me into my apartment building and the simply large one is a Master Key to the Intiman Theatre. (I once had an "all access" pass to the Tony's. Having a Master Key is kind of like that.)

Keys can be a burden. One has to keep track of them. I place mine in a little blue bowl in the kitchen when "home." They live in my pocket the rest of the time. My pockets are assigned. Front left holds my lighter and chapstick. Front right carries cash and keys. Back left is for my cigarette case. Back right holds my debit card, a credit card, my driver's license and my grocery card. The side pocket, a kind of double pocket has my cell phone and 2 pencils, a sharpe, and a pen. Assuming I have a hairbrush in the car, I'm pretty much done and don't need a purse. I love the freedom, and I have everything I need throughout the day, but I do have to unload and take those pants off the minute I am home. The keys are first. They poke me.

I tell my students, carpenter pants work very well for stage managers!

We had our first preview of RUINED tonight at the Intiman Theatre in Seattle. It is a great, great play and a timely and important work. First Preview and a Standing Ovation! I cried when I saw the audience leap to their feet the moment the curtain call began. So moving. I felt proud and humbled to be part of this project. This is what theatre is about. Reaching out. Communicating. Telling a good story really well. It is exciting, mind-blowing and sometimes life-changing. I love it.

Tomorrow, more work, more fine-tuning. This piece deserves the best work of our lives. We will endeavor, reach out, and endure, together.

My keys open doors and give me access. My keys open the theatre. My keys tell me I'm welcome, here.

The Day Off.

2010-06-28T22:47:00.000-07:00

It hurts my heart a little that Nick Drake is used so ubiquitously in commercials. He died, quite a long time ago and his songs sing the reason why. Now his music sells cars and coverage. He was very important to me, very private. The music is all. The commercial use is obscene. Even though, I have to say using Christo and Nick Drake in the same commercial is inspired. It is still..a commercial.

Where does art live by itself? Does it have to be adopted and used by the larger industries who spend so little money supporting that art? I'm flummoxed. I want to say to advertising agencies..."Earn the right. Know where the art began. Understand the context." I'm whistling in the dark, dear friends.

My day off. Today. I spent most of the morning sleeping, I'm happy to say! I talked to my dear husband, then dealt with a couple of actor issues. I am always available to talk to my actors and help them. I took a couple of fabric grocery bags and headed off to a new (to me) grocery store. I bought way too many bottles of liquid! The climb back to the apartment was easily my workout for the day!
I dropped off my purchases, set off again and wound up at a used book-store. Bought a book! Went on and bought the soup I really like from Safeway and stopped in at the State Liquor Store to get a bottle of vodka. Got to be prepared for TECH WEEK! LOL. Ran into a couple of my company members... wandered on. Got my nails done. (Are you surprised?)

Came home and baked some chicken for the week ahead. I have to stop eating the greasy offerings around my apartment.

I took some pictures. Oh, I know you are waiting on baited breath!

Yesterday was Pride Day in Seattle. The festivities took place right outside our rehearsal room.

Man on Stilts:

Bare-breasted women celebrating:

More celebrating.

A man in a wedding gown...The space needle with a rainbow flag. Too cool.

That was yesterday.

Today, I looked around, walked and finally took a picture of the wind chimes. Seattle has set up a display with bells on many trees on the walkway between Seattle Rep and the Intiman. The bells send up an amazing music, jingling in the wind. Look closely, you can see the bells.

Seconds from my apartment building are these wonderous flower beds. So colorful and so full of life.

I call this the "magic fountain." Truly, it draws people from everywhere. Weird ethereal music plays... People sit and listen, children jump in the water...it is all very satisfying.Weird and wonderful. Children everywhere.

Seattle is like a dream town. Never quite real. Something else is ... over there. (The Cascades!)