Planet Alignment

Monday was an unbelievably gorgeous day in NYC. I whistled and practically skipped to rehearsals on Monday afternoon. I was pleased with myself, and not just because it was lovely outside, but because I realized that I was about to embark on a six week period of my life in which every single day would be filled with things I actually want to do. I'm not exaggerating. Every. Single. Day. How often does that happen? I've been blessed.

I am teaching and being taught, experimenting, writing and directing and making room in my life for some things that are very, very new. I'm getting a glimpse of what my life could be like if I could only take advantage of the opportunities offered. Of course, I would also have to learn how to recognize those opportunities when they bite me in the ass, but that is another topic all together.

Already I feel as though I've been hit by a bus (a nice, happy bus, but a bus nonetheless) as I dive into a six day work week. I know that I can't conceivably keep up this pace for very long, but a few weeks seems doable as I know I will be forced to take the summer "off". But that, too, is another story.

After several years of self-mistrust I am slowly learning how to roll with it and trust that I am not the only responsible adult in the world. I am learning how to delegate and prioritize in a way I never have before. I am also learning to accept the fact that things are going to fall through the cracks. My house is going to be a disaster (possibly now through the end of time) and I am going to have those sleepless nights when my To Do List keeps me wide awake. The main difference between now and a couple of years ago, and even two weeks ago, is that I see this flurry of activity is, in and of itself, a success. If I fail at one project or another it doesn't matter as much as it would have at another time in my life. I've never been this busy before. The fact that I am busy means that I have reached a level of success that I had not reached before.

There are a bunch of boys in one of the classes I am teaching who really give me a run for my money. They have smart mouths, they have a hard time focusing, they challenge me and everything I say. They have to be prodded to do the work and they seriously resist being lead more than an inch out of their comfort zones. These boys frustrate me terribly, and yet they are also my most affectionate students. They are the first to embrace me when I walk in the door and they grumble with one another about who gets to sit next to me when we work on the classroom floor. They greedily inhale anything that sounds remotely like praise from me and absorb it into their blood streams. They challenge me and poke me and try my patience, but they also care the most. Their difficult behavior is their method of engagement with me and I need to take it as such. I can't interpret it as an indictment of me and my methods, but as a strange sign of respect.

I spent the majority of my formative years seeking and enjoying friendships with males. I learned that teasing and both literal and figurative head butting are signs of affection and validation. Maybe life's challenges are much the same. I am going to be tackling some pretty big things in the next year or so and I feel excited and somewhat intimidated. However, I have to look at it this way- Since life (God, Goddess, the Universe, what have you) has seen fit to give me these challenges and poke me from time to time, I should take it as a sign of love and respect.

That's a much more pleasant outlook than sitting around thinking that I've been screwed.

Imus Kafuffle

I have very little to say about Don Imus specifically. I have never paid him much attention and I certainly do not care to start now. However, his recent ill- conceived comments are only the latest drop in a seemingly unending stream of gaffes by public figures. As much as the content of these messages concerns me as a human being, their censure concerns me as an artist and it raises so many questions for me about how our culture deals with communication and personal responsibility.

In my lifetime I have seen personal accountability reach a new, all time low. Whether it is the 24 hour news cycle or actual stupidity that is to blame here seems to matter little. To me it seems that the real issue is how easy it is to distance ourselves from our true thoughts and feelings- however ugly they may be. It seems that once the unfortunate comment is uttered it is a little too easy to claim that it was meant satirically, make the apology to Al Sharpton and then check into rehab.
Now, if someone has real emotional problems or needs help with substance abuse then they should be able to access that help. It can provide an explanation for bad behavior, but it shouldn't EXCUSE it. A person still needs to be accountable for what they put out into the world. A person should be able to stand up and say what they think (popular or not) but they should also be aware of the effect on their intended audience and accept the natural consequences for their actions. Unfortunately in the era of the "Whoopsie Daisy" no one seems to really stand up and claim their true thoughts and feelings on anything. We live in a time when everyone must be pleased and no one should be offended.

That's a nice idea, but it isn't very realistic.

Very little actual discource has been had in this country about the gulf which divides us. Although we understand what is supposed to be the accepted behavior in our culture (we understand it enough that any breech necessitates an apology) we understand very little about what causes someone to feel that way in the first place. This is something we are not really allowed to discuss outside of over-simplified terms. As difficult as it is to hear how someone might have reached these conclusions about one group of people or another, I think it is vitally necessary to hear it if we are to change hearts and minds. We have all heard about the affects of this kind of speech from its targets and we should continue to hear it. But we also can't assume where and how bigotry is born. We can't assume that it is communicable and passed from ear to ear, bigot to bigot. After all, if someone tells you the sky is maroon and you have any spine at all you will dismiss it as an erroneous statement because your previous experience tells you otherwise. When it comes to racist thought and action there is something else at play here and it is a moral imperitive that we understand it so that we will know how to kill it.

Sweeping ugliness under the rug only makes the rug dirty underneath. Stopping the chatter only makes the chatter more dangerous. Removing your listening support undermines the credibility of the message. I've always had this little fantasy about getting a huge group to attend a Klan rally only to turn our backs, put our fingers in our ears and sing "La la la! I'm not listening! La la la!".

Now that would be fun.

Easter Adventures

This Easter I agreed to lend my skills to an Easter service at St. Bartholomew's in Manhattan. The whole idea was to take the congregation's children on a walk through the Easter story. At several areas in and around the church there would be scenes that the children would encounter depicting the events surrounding the Resurrection.

Now, my own personal religious/ spiritual beliefs aside, I thought it would be a fun way to spend an Easter Sunday. It was fun. Which, in retrospect, makes me think I am probably a very sick person to have found this fun.

First off were the people I was working with. Some were old friends from my days at Circle in the Square and others were new faces. Such a nice group of people to work with! That definitely added to my enjoyment. Second was the sheer awesomeness of St. Bartholomew's itself. It is a sprawling and gorgeous piece of archetecture complete with tall columns, stained glass windows, mosaics, and weird nooks and crannies that satisfy the romantic little girl in me. The baptismal font itself is worth the trip. None of these things seem odd or out of the ordinary to enjoy. It is the third thing that makes me wonder.

I spent the entire day crying.

You see, I was to play Mary Magdelene (which I am quite certain that most of the parishoners confused me for the OTHER famous Mary) at the moment she discovered Jesus missing from the tomb. It was suggested to me that it would be powerful if Mary were really crying instead of indicating her loss. So, I went whole hog. I didn't go to the ugly cry place because that would have terrified the children, but I did sit and contemplate loss for an entire day. After all, at that moment the injustice of the whole situation must have been crippling for Mary. Not only has she lost her teacher and friend, but she has lost the means through which she could begin to cope with her grief. She has lost her hope for the future. The ritual of anointing the body would have been painful and yet would have helped her to move through her grief in a last gesture of love and caring. The loss of that moment, of that chance to say good bye must have been devastating to her.

We did three "shows" and each time I felt compelled to shake things up a bit and release some sadness and frustration of my own. I've heard many tales of dead dog personalizations and whatnot and I am certainly familiar with my own bag of tricks. However, I decided to focus on mass murders/ suicides and genocides to bring up the required sense of loss.

In a particularly morbid display I found myself thinking about Jonestown when the sound of a reluctant young parishoner reached my ears. He was chanting, "I don't WANT to go! I don't WANT to go!". This was somewhat serendipitous as, at that particular moment I was having difficulty connecting to my circumstances. But that child's protests added to my Jonestown scenario as I imagined a child who did not want to drink the Kool Aid struggling against his own mother. I needed no more for the rest of the day.

This is where my self loathing kicks in, because it feels so exploitative and wrong to attempt ot make art about real peoples' lives. And yet, what else have we got? What is more compelling that real life? What is more important than real life? But my ability and my need to bounce back from these emotional episodes and even share them and find them darkly funny disturbs me more than a little.

I know that I have developed a defense mechanism that helps me separate my acting reality from my actual reality and part of that mechanism requires me to look at my process this way. I need to be able to step back and analyze how I used this or that in order to survive the work I do and to understand my world. But sometimes I wonder if that is a good thing for my soul not just to use such things in my work, but to walk away having somewhat enjoyed the experience.

When I was pregnant my actor friends invariably said two things when they found out. Number one was congratulations. Number two was some variation of "Wow! Just think of everything you'll be able to USE from this experience!". This made me want to slap them because some things should be sacred, shouldn't they?

But as I creep up on that magic seven years after the birth of my son, I am begining to see how it would be useful and I shudder to think how it will creep into my work whether I like it or not. But then I think about how my work is sacred to me and it only makes sense that I would use that which is most holy to me in my creation. I wonder how the subjects of my silent homages would feel if they knew.

As for me, I'd be flattered. But then again, I'm a narcissist.

Applied Lessons

Gathering and cataloguing knowledge is a relatively easy thing to do. We do it daily. We notice the people who are always at the bus stop at 8 AM and we've observed enough about them to feel we know who they are. We notice that the copy machine always seems to jam on the 4th and 5th copies if the paper drawer is too full. We take in all kinds of information, moment by moment. But how often do we act on that knowledge? How often do we apply the lessons learned to the next moment, the next challenge?

Our behavior patterns are so deeply ingrained in us that we hardly notice them. If we do notice the pattern, our efforts to change that pattern are often thwarted by our subconscious mind that tricks us back into our comfortable groove. For example, my need to be polite and liked by strangers is so strong that I once apologized to a man on the phone who called my place of business to request sexual services. I'm sorry, sir, we don't do that here. Any other New Yorker would have read this guy the riot act. Not me. After being mercilessly teased by my co-workers I vowed to be more assertive. Only a week later did a woman enter the store mumbling "gotta get a fix, gotta get a fix" and I kindly escorted her to the door while she, unsuccessfully, tried to pick my pocket.

The problem with applied knowledge is identifying the particular lesson. Were those lessons teaching me that people are scum that only want to take what they can get from me? Or was it about recognizing inappropriate and dangerous behavior? Probably the latter, but one could easily see how someone else would interpret the lesson as the former. Depending on the circumstances, of course. The all important circumstances.

In this profession, circumstances are everything. Circumstances hold the key to behavior and behavior is the key to the way the mind interprets information. Knowing a character means understanding how stimulus is interpreted through the character's filter of given circumstances. It is a mind numbing puzzle and the better written the character, the more daunting and tantalizing the actor's task. Bernarda Alba, in Lorca's play of the same name, could interpret her daughter's suicide as a sign that something is wrong in this house full of desperate women. However, the circumstances of her community, her religion and her upbringing will lead her to deny the dangers in her own home. And that is just the tip of the iceberg. To make Bernarda real is to take the textual clues to work backward and reconstruct her circumstances.

I once had a director who insisted on discussing each actor's choices regarding the given circumstances of the play. He called us in for half hour discussions about our characters. I found this unorthodox and slightly intrusive, but since I wanted to be polite I agreed. This was a big mistake. During the conversation he violently disagreed with me about a particular choice I made regarding a particular line of text. The line was "...and me, the near virgin!". I had constructed for myself a scenario that contributed to the character's confusion, however the director felt that I was not being historically accurate in my choice. Now, this choice did not show up anywhere else in the text or in the show. I can understand the director objecting to an actor who wanted to ride a Ferrari in a chariot race, but this was my private choice. Just something between the character and myself. It was a bridge that connected the two of us, and in one fell swoop this director and my own politeness burned that bridge. We argued because I felt he was being far too literal and general and that the choice I had made reflected my own experience and helped me to understand where she was coming from. I tried it his way, but it didn't make sense to my system. That is when I learned that some choices are private and should stay that way.

This, of course, makes teaching and learning acting extraordinarily difficult. After all, how many times in a career can an actor hear "Have the thought ON the line, not BEFORE it!", "Don't play the emotion!", or "Take two steps and THEN say the line." and be able to turn that into usable tools? I'm hungry for the personal play by play but I also recognize that it does not always serve the actor to share those things. You can make fun of the dead dog personalizations, but if they work who the hell is anyone to say boo about it?

It all boils down to confidence in your own experience. This is the circumstance one must cultivate in their real lives to make their stage lives full and truthful. However you go about that, my friends, is your own, private business.

Finding Place

I am quickly discovering that comfort does not equal happiness. Comfort is akin to inertia. A person can keep ambling along, doing whatever they are doing and they can be comfortable but they can also be unhappy.

A couple of years ago I was very comfortable. I was home with my son. I had enough money to continue with my daily cappucino and seven layer cookie addiciton. I was even writing for a little extra cash. On the surface, things seemed very good, except for the fact that I couldn't stop fantasizing about jumping in front of a bus or drowning myself in the bath tub. I was very comfortable and I thought that was what I wanted. However, once I found myself in the seemingly enviable position of the stay at home, artsy, mommy I felt as if I was staring into an endless void of kiddie songs and caffeine fueled crying jags over my cell phone in the park.

I don't think I was made to coast through life in that way. My comfort made me doubt myself. It made me doubt my own strength and ability to perservere. It made me twitchy and unable to cope with the slightest inconvenience. I became addicted to my own inertia feeling that I would fall apart if something really serious ever happened. I was afraid to go back to "real work" in case I wasn't good enough or up to the challenges that people over the age of three tend to provide. I hated myself for being so weak while the world around me kept doing crazy things in which I took no part. I missed the world but I didn't feel that the world had missed me.

At the moment I am extremely uncomfortable. I don't know from day to day how I will cover the gaps in my son's busy schedule. I don't know how I am going to make dinner or wash the sheets or make the necessary arrangements for my volunteer work at school or finish my lesson plans for one of my many teaching gigs. I just don't know how I am going to squeeze it all in while I plot out my career moves and figure out how to be a part of the world again. I'm insanely busy. I have thoughts constantly whirling around in my brain and I frequently forget to eat lunch, but I'm happy damn it. I'm almost there.

I need to be knocked off balance and still find myself standing at the end of the day. The pot shots that I've been getting lately make me feel proud and defiant. I feel more energetic and more loving. I don't feel as strong as I would like to feel, but I think that is something that will happen in time. Challenge is a potent thing and I am finding it necessary to my survival.

Comfort is not as good as it sounds.

Leading a Horse to Water

I keep finding myself in these teaching situations where I have to coax the young'uns into working. I have to throw some kind of carrot in front of them to get them to do what they walked in the door to do. It's an extra curricular drama class. No one forced them to come in the room. They came of their own free will. And yet, no one wants to be the first person to commit. No one wants to put in any effort because effort is not cool. As the teacher, they expect me to bring it all to their doorstep. Just push it through the mail slot, Teach. I'll pick it up when I am damn good and ready.

This is foreign to my experience. I was a nerd and only too eager to grab on to the lifeline that was thrown to me. Of course, my living situation was not as stressful as what some of these kids are going through. I trusted my lifeline. They don't have much trust at all, not even in themselves. Saying yes and stepping forward to claim an opportunity is much more difficult than entertaining a painful status quo.

Everytime I get frustrated I set myself down and remind myself of all the lifelines I have refused in the past six years. I have even refused the invitations to teach because I felt that I had very little to offer. So you tell me that all I need to do is give of myself and I will reach success? Well, what if my "self" is worthless? What if I am not enough? Failing will be painful. And yet teaching jobs kept coming to me and I could no longer push them away. I found myself faced with an opportunity I could no longer refuse, although I desperately wanted to. I still want to. I lay awake nights thinking about how I have failed these kids because I haven't gotten through. I keep searching for an end point- a place where I can feel some accomplishment. But the work never ends and that boulder just gets heavier and heavier while the hill seems much steeper than the last go round.

Yesterday I had a moment on the train with a couple of teenage boys. They were displaying their obnoxious rebellion in technicolor, swearing, laughing too loud and just being way too Eddie Haskell. At one point, one of them turns to the other and says, "You know what's cool? Smoking on the train!". The other boy agrees and they both pull out their packs and their lighters. I couldn't help myself.

"Oh, come on guys. Don't do it." They froze, surprised that I was not too intimidated to address them, "You aren't the only two people in here. Show some respect."

That is when the black woman behind them and the older gentleman on the other side got into the act. I sat back and watched the two of them talk to these boys. The woman was a nurse and the older man was a retired teacher. These two boys fell into a "yes, ma'am", "no, sir" posture that I didn't think existed anymore. They were kind, but firm and then they kicked a little ass. Of course, those boys got off the train in a snowstorm to smoke, but they didn't smoke on the train. I was on the train for two more stops and listened to the man tell his war stories from NYC high schools .

"There's a reason I quit teaching, you know." He said with a sigh, "In the 80's, I saw nine year olds smoking crack." He shook his head.

"Believe me, I know." said the nurse.

That is when I realized that I still see myself as a teenager. What teenager would value information from another teenager? I'm not having defiance or danger in my classroom, just sketpticism. What do I need to stretch for, Miss? I don't want to play no bad guy, Miss! Miss, this scene is boring. It takes too long. I empathize with them. I can see why five minutes of stretching makes them feel self-conscious about their bodies. I can see why someone would feel sensitive about having to play "the bad guy". I can also see why working on a scene that requires an actor to stretch their daily level of compassion to its limit would be "boring". Anything that you refuse to invest yourself in would be boring.

I'm struggling to find my voice as a teacher. I know that there are populations that respond more readily to me than others. I'm trying to learn, to adjust my style and my curriculum to better reach other kids while still not sacrificing the material. What I really have to learn is how to get them to meet me half way. I can't seem to convince these horses that they are thirsty. I need to temper my desire to reach them with the knowledge that not everyone is ready to be reached.

As much as I want to, I can't make them drink.

Outside the Box

I've been reading Lisa Mulcahy's book, "Building the Successful Theater Company". It is a good read and it has been instrumental in helping me dissect all the reasons why my previous attempts at building a company have crashed and burned. As I hang my toes over the precipice of a new theatrical endeavor, it is good to reflect on where I've gone wrong and also what I've done right in the past. But I do feel a nagging voice in the back of my head screaming to challenge the assumption of what the word "successful" means.

Does "successful" need to mean "large"? Does it need to mean 2000 seat venues and multi-million dollar operating budgets? Or can a small theater that has invested itself in its community like any other local business be successful, too? Why must everything American grow to be so gargantuan in order to be deemed a success? Why must an American business multiply and dilute?

I am noticing that growth means dilution to a certain extent. I'm sure that the original McDonald's restaurant probably had palatable food. It doesn't anymore. I've been informed that Doc Martens are now being made in China to cope with the new demand (this is what a friend who recently purchased some new Docs told me) and apparently there is a difference- and not necessarily a good difference. More may not mean better. After all, I've seen some amazing and moving performances in 30 seat venues and I've seen crap in 1500 seat venues. I am confused at what "success" means.

I've got a lot to think about these days. The decisions I make in the next few months are going to set me on a path artistically and philosophically. My sister always tells me that "the gut is good, always listen to the gut", but my gut has a lot more balls than I do. Catching up is going to be a challenge.

Wish me luck.

On Cool

I was working with some kids who think I am completely full of it a couple of weeks ago. They desperately needed some relaxation because they were twitchy as hell and passing their twitchiness to one another, making it impossible to concentrate. So I took them through some stretches and repetitive motion and a little chair relaxation. These particular kids have trouble with any activity that asks them to look inside themselves which means acting is a pretty tough choice for them. During the relaxation one of the boys got snarky. "I'll bet Tom Cruise doesn't have to do this."

Involuntarily, I laughed and said, "He should. His forehead could use a break." Oh boy. They all turned on me. Did our teacher just dis Tom Cruise? For real? Yup. I guess I kinda did. But it brought up a real discussion about what professional actors do. Most kids get into acting because of a hero in the movies. Girls pattern themselves after beautiful women who are either spunky tough or extremely elegant. Boys idolize men that move a lot and seem to have a lot of grit and there is a fine line in attitude. There's a big difference between Jackie Chan and Bruce Lee. Guys would like to hang out with Jackie Chan (as would I, he seems a fun fellow) but would like to BE Bruce Lee. A lot of kids get into acting to escape themselves. Oh, they are in for a terrible shock. Especially if you end up working with me.

I hate cool. Cool is the antithesis of the actor's job. Cool means detatched, unaffected, impervious to influence by the outside world. An actor- especially a "cool" actor- must be the exact opposite. They must be receptive and responsive. If they are not, there's no story, no conflict and no need. No one is that self reliant. Nor should they be.

We love the idea of a "Super Person" who can live by his/her own wits and relies on no one else. We all wish we could be this person and that others could point to us as examples of greatness. But this is a fallacy. Even in myth humans have hardwired weaknesses into gods and goddesses and fears into superheroes. These are things that we, as humans, cannot escape. So our art must not try to escape them either.

With the younger kids I often play a game making up a character as a group exercise. Each character has a name, age, important person(s), a wish and a fear. Kids always resist the fear. "He's not afraid of anything!". Oh yes he is. Superman is afraid of losing Lois Lane and he is afraid of Kryptonite. Spiderman is afraid of being exposed and of endangering the people he loves. Everyone is afraid of something, even if that something is "nothing" as in "I am afraid of everything disappearing and then there will be a horrible, horrible nothing." Nothing is a very powerful concept and, on some level, I'd say we were all afraid of nothing. Once the kid accepts that every character has a fear thing soar. They have fun laughing at fears. Once a kid created a character that was afraid of food. When I looked her in the eye and said, "Wow. That must make dinnertime and birthday parties and trips to the grocery store very interesting." Her eyes flew open and she immediately set to work solving problems for this character whose mother had to sneak her vitamins while she slept. She had a good time playing with this character and placing her in circumstantial mine fields. It also opened a window for this little girl, her teachers and her parents into her own behavior. The first step in dealing with a fear is by looking it dead in the eye.

Fears get more complex the longer we try to deny them. This is how fear hides from us. Sometimes fear is so convuluted that we don't even recognize it as fear. We mistake it for anger or sadness. We clothe it in self righteousness and even bigotry. Fear is not going anywhere and we would do well to acknowledge it or else it grows in the dark corners of our collective psyche like poisonous mushrooms. There is no courage in the absence of fear. Fear is a necessary componant of our growth as humans and everyone has it to some degree or another. The key to greatness is not the denial of fear, but the acceptance of it and the strength to move through it.

So. What are you afraid of?

Playing Emotion

For all the political flap jaw we've had in the past 5 1/2 years about freedom I am surprised to fall upon a preponderance of evidence that mankind is not hardwired to seek freedom. Nor is man hardwired to seek peace, whether it be personal or international. I know this only because I have witnessed scores of people, both in the public sphere and in my private life, consistently choose the opposite.

I would have to include myself in that grouping as I have noticed that I tend to make choices that will lead me down the path of maximum inner trumoil. Others, I've witnessed, make choices that will manifest conflict outside themselves. Both tendancies serve the same purpose- they allow us to avoid taking immediate and decisive action that may bring us fulfillment in some area of our lives. We often make plenty of excuses and justifications for why we are not where we think we ought to be in life when, in reality, if we have decided upon a moral/ethical code and remain consistent life should be pretty darn simple. Not easy, just simple. And yet...

After mulling this over with several friends and colleagues I was surprised to hear a the same basic idea echoed back to me from people who are vastly different from one another in their approaches to life. The idea was this: conflict creates strong emotional responses and if we are not aware of our feelings we do not feel alive. There are many of us who fear numbness over pain and crave feeling above all else.

In acting it is absolutely, painfully dull to watch an actor "play the emotion" or "play the quality" instead of the action indicated in the play. For example, if we watch an actor playing our favorite, evil, hunchback, Richard III, concentrate only on the quality of "being evil" his portrayal will be hollow and showy at best. We would not be able to peek through the language and see a man so wounded and angry that he would destroy anyone and everyone in his need to compensate and dominate. We would just see an actor mustering all the "evil" conventions and cliches available to him and we would, most likely, fall asleep before the winter of our discontent could be made glorious summer by this sun of York. But if we could see an actor stay on track and actually pursue an objective and letting the emotions come without trying to manipulate them we would be in for a treat. We might even learn something about ourselves by watching. As an actor, this is one of the first things that I have learned and have struggled to realize in my work. However, as a human I tend to wallow in the feeling- to play the feeling, if you will- rather than do what my training demands that I do. My habit is to play the emotion and not to pursue my objective. That is why I often find myself feeling stagnant and stuck in life. Bad habits do die hard.

Playing the emotion is self-indulgent in an actor. It is no less so in an everyday human being. This, I believe, is at the heart of why we tend to choose conflict and voluntary bondage over peace and personal freedom. We're addicted to the emotion and we do not trust that the emotion will be there for us if we concetrate on our objective(s). We hang on to feeling as if it were life itself. It is not. Letting go often provides the richest emotional life available, but it requires faith and self confidence. After all, anxiety is nothing but the inherent belief that if something went wrong we would not know how to handle it. Focusing on emotion as a result instead of a by-product of life can stop us from achieving our goals. It can stop us from living our lives to the fullest. Emotion can be so addictive that we can spend lifetimes seeking vague concepts like "Happiness" and "Security" over concrete goals like a savings account or a career in our chosen field.

States of being are unattainable because being is ever changing. Chasing a state of mind is like trying to catch smoke and this frustration can cause us much distress and chip away at our self esteem. As I see it, in life as in acting it is the action that matters. Everything else will fall into place once the action is clearly defined. Then you will be unstoppable.

Guidance

Everyone needs a teacher.

For some people that means a therapist. For others that means a mother, a father, a good friend, a mentor, a boss, or even a good book. Regardless of what form that teacher takes, everyone needs one.

I'm finding that I can be a good compass for others but I often have difficulty finding my own bearings. All the static from everyone else's life tends to intrude and I need the assistance of someone else to tone down the noise and figure out what is really true for me. I've lost touch with my teachers and now is the time for me to return.

Some friends have recommended therapists to me lately. Therapy is fine, but I think what I truly need is good scene work. I don't take personal direction well. When someone says to me "You need to take care of yourself" or "Wow, you're really hard on yourself" I get defensive and block off the message. I don't know how to fix those things. But if I can talk to someone about Martirio's soul eating rage or Blanche's desperate need for affection I can map out strategies. I can discover parallels between myself and the character and recognize behaviors that cause me discomfort. I can see and dissect how these characters make their choices from moment to moment and I can learn to spot those choices in my daily life.

It is much like when you are a kid and your parents get a new car. After that new car purchase you see that same make and model in every parking lot and on every street. It seems as if your parents have started a new car craze, but the reality is much simpler. In reality your eyes have been trained to look for that car, to search for its familiarity. Suddenly, you notice something that has probably been going on for a long time and your awareness shifts. It is much the same with this craft. Once you recognize and identify Hamlet's foibles you begin to see them in yourself. Your awareness opens and when that happens you can begin to make conscious choices.

However, you will need the guidance of a good teacher to recognize these things. I miss my teachers. For the benefit of my own teaching I need to get reaquainted with my teachers. I need to be able to place my trust in someone else for a while so that I may stumble and make the mistakes I need to make in order to grow.

I used to think that a good teacher prepared you to live without them. To a certain extent, I definitely still believe that, but I am beginning to see the necessity of a constant voice of wisdom throughout my journey as an artist and as a person. I've always been a bit of a bootstraps kind of gal, but I am beginning to see the folly in that viewpoint. Seeking guidance is not weakness or a sign of incompetence. It is just the opposite. As we have seen in the Iraq war, "going it alone" is not so much a sign of strength as it is a sign of stubborn stupidity.

Of course, one should always be wary of "gurus". A teacher should never feed off the student. A true teacher calmly watches like a well adjusted parent, setting the environment to let you fall without getting irreparably damaged. At some point the good teacher becomes a trusted friend that is happy to see you ride off into the sunset and pleased when you return with tales of your adventures and honored when you solicit their honest opinions. A teacher should never drain you of your energy. If he/ she does, you know this is not the right teacher for you. A good teacher invests him/herself in you but never lets you know how much because the teaching isn't about the teacher. It is about the student.

And this is why teachers need teachers. A teacher cannot give so much without having a place to refuel. This is why everyone needs guidence.

Everyone needs a teacher.

Why Theatre?

What are we doing?

I can't help but wonder why I am involved in this pursuit at all. There are these corny answers floating about in my head about expression, the cultural importance of storytelling, and the magic of strangers sharing an experience together, but that doesn't really give me any satisfaction. In fact, there is a nagging feeling that this whole exercise is about validation and that bothers me. As much as I put the whole of myself into anything that I create, I don't want this to be masturbatory and yet, that is almost impossible to avoid. Yes. Validation is a major reason to do what I do and I am sadly conflicted about it. I would like to think that there is a larger and more important reason for me to act beyond the fact that I get attention for doing it.

I've got this Kurt Weil song stuck in my head. It is very theatrical and has that characteristic Weil fingerprint that is dark, cynical and clanky. My brain plays it over and over and over trying to dissect the notes and the words that crawl into my body and rearrange the way my heart feels inside my chest. It is both uncomfortable and thrilling and therein lies a piece of the puzzle, I think. It frightens me. The way I can listen to that song and imagine the darker part of myself- the fact that there even IS a darker part of myself- coming forward and claiming its place in me is terrifying in its appeal. As I listen to this song, I recognize how this musical moment somehow encapsulates what I am reaching for in my theatre work. It is a "safe" way to explore that which frightens me about myself and the world I live in. For me, theatre is about fear, challenging it and searching for ways to conquor it. Sometimes when I step into the fear I find myself in a state of complete surrender that is nothing short of a revelation. Those moments are few and far between, but once it has been experienced it becomes a lifelong search to find and maintain such moments. It is even better when those moments are shared with an audience. They get a taste for what you are experiencing and for a moment, a brief moment, they lose themselves as well. Through this we all have the opportunity to stretch ourselves, to expand ourselves beyond our own self imposed limits and we learn something.

A friend sent me a quote which I will have to paraphrase because I no longer have it handy, but the idea is basically this: Entertainment is that which you receive without effort. Art takes an investment of self but in return you receive much more that what you have put in.

That's why. Because I want more. More life, more experience, more understanding, more compassion...I want more of what the world has to offer and this is the best way I have found to get it. I've no choice. It is my compulsion.

A Fool and His Money...

One of my favorite Tom Waits' lyrics is "There's a sucker born every minute/ You just happened to be comin' along at the right time". It makes me maliciously delighted each time I hear it. Alas, we all have our moments of playing the fool. Sometimes for better reasons than others.

Producing a tiny show in NYC is the ultimate act of foolishness. The odds are against you and the audience for small shows is so much smaller than you could possibly imagine. It is like pulling teeth to even get your friends to cough up $10 to support you while you get your sea legs. To be fair, your friends know that most things produced on this scale are usually so esoteric they want to shoot themselves or in such bad taste they want to shoot you. They're just too polite to tell you that. Well, I am lucky because our show is actually good. But no one will really believe that until they see a third party review. Rumor has it, we'll be getting one soon and if we do it will mean a longer life for our little show.

Small is not always bad. I do lean toward a poor theatre as my personal aesthetic, mostly for practical reasons but also because I do truly think that the theatre needs to separate itself from the slam bang spectacles of over stimulation that we've become accustomed to in this culture. No one is coming to the theatre- but people are out there searching in these troubled times. They are searching for solace and looking to religion and spirituality to make sense of their world and there is no reason that the theatre can't play a part in that sacred dance. In fact, I think it is vitally necessary that we strip away all pretense and acknowledge what the theatre truly is. The theatre is NOT film. It should stop pretending to be so. I never understood the idea of bringing movies to the stage (regardless of the fact that I have participated in one of these efforts- much to my own personal shame). It makes sense to make movies out of plays. To do so is to take a piece of material to a wider audience. To bring film to the stage is to limit the scope of a cinematic story and bring it to a much smaller, niche audience. This does not compute. Plus it just speaks to the producers' inability to take risks or say anything of any immediate relevence.

Theatre has the ability to be nimble. It has the ability to be immediate if we don't bog it down with unnecessary pyrotechnics and splashy numbers designed to compete with the cinema or television. Plus those flashy things raise the cost of a production so high that it becomes cost prohibitive for the general public to see it. If a regular citizen, such as myself, wants to go see a Broadway (or increasingly even an Off-Broadway) show they would have to save up to see one. Maybe they could see one once or twice a year. That doesn't seem quite right to me. The flash and need for profit have made a commercial theatre that is flaccid and without any real social or political weight. I would argue that social and political relevance is preciesly the role of theatre. Or it should be. Theatre should be about something. Anyone (and I say this both with excitement and trepidation) can put up a show in 4-6 weeks. There should be more theatre about NOW. But there won't be until producers grow some balls.

Now, I also have a problem with not-for-profit theatre. Not as a concept, because for a long time I thought that was definitely the way to go in order to have a viable company. Now I am not so sure. There are a lot of fingers in that not-for-profit pie and an awful lot of opinion about what is being said or done. This also seems to be a severely limiting force in the theatre. With these forces in place, it certainly seems that the theatre going public is being offered an awful lot of nothing.

Don't write me and complain that I am over simplifying because I know that I am. I know I am being general and that there is good work going on all over the place. The only problem is, I can't afford to go see it and I know there are plenty of others in my position. So, I have offered a really good show and a good price and it is still like pulling teeth to get an audience. Everything is a bit of an uphill battle, isn't it?

Of course there is no courage without fear, no profit without loss and no victory without challenge. I am not so jaded as to believe that the struggle is not worth the effort. In fact I believe the struggle is all we've got and we had better get a taste for it because it isn't going away any time soon.

And I wouldn't want it to.

Challenge is a Gift

I say that on rather wobbly legs at the moment. As it turns out, the show itself is not the hurdle. It is getting the show to a place where it can grow on its own. But like any seed, the likelihood that it should flower and survive the growing season is remote. It is not doomed because of any flaw inherent in the makeup of the seed, but environmental hardships play a big role in whether or not the plant should grow large enough to survive and to procreate.

Enough of the plant analogy.

Committing to producing ANYTHING, anything at all is a monsterous undertaking. Regardless of the cost of the production, it is hard to stay alive without making some kind of sacrifice. A few external circmustances have made my involvement in this current project a bit more challenging than I had anticipated. Now is the time that I find out what I am really made of. Can I stick it out? Can I fight the good fight like some cheesey doctor in a 3rd rate soap opera centered around an emergency room screaming "Live, damn you! Live!"

I suppose I could.

At the moment it is not just me making the sacrifices. My family has to be on this ride with me. This is no small thing to ask. But people keep telling me that I am different, that I seem happier and look better since I've been back into the full swing of a production. I do feel better. I don't feel as helpless as I had before, but this means I must require more from my family. I can't take care of everything on the home front anymore. It is funny how having it all somehow means you have more of less. I miss my kid. I miss my husband. I miss having money.

Not that I'd have any more money if I wasn't doing this show, but I certainly wouldn't have less.

It isn't the back stabbing, clawing, grasping rat race to the top that will tear you apart in New York City. It's the small things that get you. It's the laundry, getting the dishes done, stepping outside your door without having to dig through your sofa cushions for the $4.00 to go to work and come back home. It is the nickle and diming you to death thing that this city does and the fact that everyone else you know has the time/ money to go out and have a beer so why can't you? Everyone else has seen the new MoMA, so why haven't you? It's the $10 movies and the $120 theatre tickets and the slice of quiche with a side salad of mixed greens that should only cost you $6.95 but somehow ends up setting you back $20 that drives you absolutely batty.

This afternoon I took my son with me to a used bookstore to undersell some books for some quick cash. He did not understand this exercise. I told him that I needed a little extra pocket money to make ends meet this week. On the way back home we ran into one of the local homeless ladies. She's the one with the disturbing hole in her forehead who begs people for hamburgers and bus fare. My boy asked me why that lady was standing in the middle of the street screaming for money. I tried my best to explain to him what that was all about. He then asked me why I didn't do that because I needed the money, too.

Good question my boy. Good question.

Mostly, because I don't think it would work. A big challenge for me in 2007 is to understand my worth. A bigger challenge is for me to demand my piece from the Universe and then collect. These are things, admittedly, I do not know how to do. I can make a nice looking turkey dinner out of styrofoam and cheesecloth and yet I cannot accept wealth. Which is why I am facing this personal financial challenge. I guess this is the year I pass the exam.

Right?

The Unexpected Rigors of a Choose Your Own Adventure Show

I've never had difficulty memorizing text. I'm not the world's best or wittiest improvisor, but I can do it in a pinch. I do love doing it, regardless of my shortcomings at it. But "Adventures in Mating" by Joseph Scrimshaw (see the plug to the right) has provided some interesting challenges for me.

Adventures in Mating (as it is currently being performed- there is an extended version debuting next month in Minneapolis) has over 30 different scene combinations. I can handle the flow. I understand how all the scenes work individually and can make the appropriate justifications to make them fit together. However, I am finding it challenging to justify individual moments with what has come previously because, on any given night we may have run a few different scene combinations before the actual show just to stay sharp. Sometimes it is hard remembering which scenes we've done in front of the audience! I caught myself on Monday night responding to a choice that had been made in an earlier scene during rehearsals that afternoon instead of to the choice that had been made during the actual show. The audience didn't seem to notice and I had corrected myself as much as possible without denying the reality I had just created but it was a cautionary moment for me. I must be well rested to do this show! I need to have extra brain cells firing!

This show is different from any other show. In a regular play you simply fall back on the often linear text and if you derail you and your fellow cast members usually find your way back to the text as it should be. In improv you are not beholden to any text so you do what you can to get yourself out of a jam and move on. Here you are still required to be faithful to the text but if you aren't paying attention you will end up doing an entirely different scene. On Tuesday night I found myself wondering if I was doing the right ending. Luckily I was, but for a good minute or two I had my doubts. Not that the audience would have been any the wiser and I certainly trust Ben and Steve to catch me if I fall (excellent chaps to work with, no doubt) but that was a heady couple of minutes. I'm sickened to say that it was thrilling and that I can't wait to wonder if I'm screwing up again. What sick, sick fun!

I will have to wait until Monday for the pleasure, but until then I will pour over my script and prepare for that horrible day when one of my ex-teachers shows up to show their support. Nothing can mess you up more than trying to prove to a teacher that you still remember all that they taught you. I suppose it is best not to prove anything at all.

On the Eve of an Opening

Preparing for a show as a producer is a lot like planning a big party. It could be any party. It could be a bratty sweet 16, a retirement party, a wedding or a funeral. The anxiety is always the same. Do I rate high enough to get people to show up? You hope. You hand out postcards, hang up flyers, send emails and cross your fingers. Screw the critics, unless they come. It doesn't matter what they write as long as they write about you.

The night before a show I have been known to stay awake all night worrying about things that I should have done. As an actor, these concerns are rather paltry as it is so much easier to feel like you've done your part if you show up and tell your friends that they should come. As a producer you have to have magic powers to do the impossible- get strangers out of their homes and ask them to give you money. It is at this point that I start to wonder if I've given my audience their money's worth. Then I fret about all the mistakes I've made along the way.

Let's not kid ourselves. When Ben and I decided to tackle this project we said we wanted to do it for fun. It's a great script and it suits us to a T. But now that we are less than 24 hours from opening it is easy to come down with a little blood lust. Give me some attention! Give me accolades, kudos and free drinks! Or just come see the show because, damn it, it's a good show.

Tomorrow night we open "Adventures in Mating" by Joseph Scrimshaw at the #43 Stage @ Jimmy's at 8PM. Check out our website which you will find linked on your right. I feel really good about this one. I'm sure you will, too.

Actors and Mommies

Nobody likes actors. Only children and other mommies like mommies.

I know these are blanket statements, but in my experience there is truth to both statements. Actors and mommies have a certain behavior in common. Often they are obsessed with only one thing and can talk about little else.

I should amend those statements to refer to young actors and mommies of babies and toddlers. Young actors are often taking classes and hitting the pavement to build a career. It is so all encompassing that every waking moment of the day is about networking, auditioning, working and wanting. They spend their time talking business, dropping names and looking for a good photographer and an agent. Mommies that stay at home with their babies are often isolated and consumed with the care of this new human being. They spend their time looking for fellowship with other mommies and are often distracted from other pursuits by the demanding and monotonous schedule of feedings and naps.

I have been both of these things. When I was a young actor, I didn't think much about mommies except that they were my bread and butter as a Gymboree Instructor and babysitter. As the mommy of a small child I hated actors because I tired rather quickly of their name dropping discussions and their fair weather friendships. Since I had dropped out of the game as a producer and as a working actor, I was no longer of any interest or use to other actors. I couldn't give them any leads or bring them in on any projects because I wasn't out there myself. When you switch from one to the other, you learn who your real friends are pretty damn quick.

In rehearsals Ben and I were discussing my character's 28 cats. He tentatively suggested that my character's strange adoration for her cats was not unlike the early days of my mommydom when I couldn't talk of anything else except my son. At first, I was horribly insulted. Mostly because I knew it was true. Then I realized that one of the things I need to learn in life is how to expand my world. I may be an actor. I may be a mommy. But those need not be the only things I am.

I feel I've become a better artist as since I've expanded my emotional world to include a small one. I've become a better mommy that I'm no longer pushing my artistic needs aside. As much as high school was a painfully huge bore, it was also an incredibly expansive time in my life. I was forced to consider other things. Life narrows considerably after you leave school. You can get soft, wimpy and dull.

I'm coming to the conclusion that this is not good for art. I look around and see complacency as the order of the day. The search for comfort has eclipsed the grander search for meaning and connection. What is comfort but simply getting by? Is that really how we want to lead our lives? Or do we blow Maslow's Heirarchy of Needs to hell? Obsession is just another way to hide from life, to hide from self. The business of acting, the business of mothering or whatever you may be into needs to be put into a perspective that allows the artist to move into the larger sphere of the world. By all means, use your base of knowledge and passion as a means to understand the world but go out and actually try to understand the world- not just your one tiny part of it.

I'm worried about the constant act of separating one's self from the world. We try to stand out, to be special by being separate when what is most special about us just might be that which connects us to the world. We would be remiss in our duties as humans, as artists to ignore the gifts that communicate our togetherness. Especially with the world as it is today. We should have a whole that is greater than the sum of our parts.

I am looking to expand my world in ways that are somewhat uncomfortable. I am looking to do things that frighten me just a little bit. I am going to learn many things this year.

Welcome to 2007.

Repertoire

Many rep companies around the country beg for money this time of year. They have to in order to sustain their season. So, they focus their energies on subscriptions, soliciting tax deductible donations and producing holiday classics like, "A Christmas Carol" or "The Nutcracker". These traditions allow families to go to the theatre and many children cut their theatrical teeth on these Christmas tales. People go year after year because it gets them in the mood for the holiday season. It just doesn't feel like Christmas unless I see Sugar Plum Fairies or the ghost of Jacob Marley. Other companies run satirical or campy holiday material for the Scrooges who've seen one too many Rankin/Bass animated Christmas specials on the Family Channel. For anyone who acknowledges the Christmas season's existence, there are any number of options for your entertainment dollar.

But where are you the rest of the year?

I have nothing against "A Christmas Carol" or "The Nutcracker" or any production of "The Santaland Diaries". I think they are all worthy of their status in our culture. But, having never been a performer or director in any kind of company that lasted longer than one season, I often wonder if the company members tire of the material year after year? Does anyone grumble that they would rather be doing "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" or "Barefoot in the Park"? Or anything else?

In my humble estimation there are about 2 optimum weekends per year for producing a new show. Everything else is bad timing. Gee, I'd love to do "Mother Courage" but we have to start gearing up for our holiday show. Can't interfere with that, it's our moneymaker for the year. In January and February it's too cold so we have to put on something that is warm and crowd pleasing to get people to come out to the theatre. Besides, there's our annual Valentine's Day promotion we need to consider. March, April and May it is starting to get warmer but we'll have Spring Break to contend with. June, July and August are just too hot and, even though we are air conditioned all those bodies do make for a very hot time. Psychologically, people really don't like to sit for long during the summer months. September we have people going back to school and we loose audiencees then. October and November we have to compete with Halloween and fall festivals and Thanksgiving and then we have to get right back to Christmas.

I've always wanted to have my own company as I figured it would allow me some freedom and control. It really doesn't because you always have to chase down your operating budget. I dream of having my own space to play with as I please. I have dreamed of it for decades, but it would only force me to make concessions as an artist that I am really not prepared to make. I guess it is best for me to function as a singular artist, producing willy nilly and on a shoestring.

You know, I think having available funds creates only the illusion of freedom. Those funds always come with strings attached to desires attached to moral sensibilities attached to judgments which are not necessarily your own. Those funds decide what you produce and how you produce it. But if you do it as a pauper, it's all yours and your guts are in it. Because, when you have no funding, what else can you put into a production but your guts? You've got nothing else, baby. Your guts will have to do. God, isn't that exciting? I'm getting goose bumps just thinking about it.

I'm afraid that when money becomes a major factor in art that it sucks out all the passion. We are losing our ability to scream. We become complacent. We lose sight of what those three ghosts mean to Ebeneezer. We lose their message. If we lose their message, then there is no real or vital reason to keep telling the story.

Unless it is only to make a few extra bucks.

Adventures in Mating by Joseph Scrimshaw

We're begining the countdown to January 8th when we open Adventures in Mating (by Joseph Scrimshaw) at No. 43 Stage at Jimmy's in the East Village. Promoting this show has been more strenuous than any other promotion I've ever done. The best part is, unlike any other promotion I've ever done, this one has been fun. Stressful, but that fun kind of stressful when you feel like you've been drinking all night long but really you're just exhausted and stupid from lack of sleep.

I love that.

I guess what I've enjoyed most is that the individuals and groups we have approached for partnerships have been really supportive and excited. This makes me feel a lot less nervous and awful about asking for help and it also boosts my confidence about our ability to pull this off.

There will be more information in the days and weeks to come, but my focus has to be with the show right now. I'd flood this blog with other contributors, however most everyone is heading for their holiday vacations and are not particularly interested in starting things up until after the New Year. So, I suppose you'll have to deal with my silence. Sorry. But if you're in NYC in January you can find out all about the thing that has been stealing all of my time and attention. Things are looking pretty good for this show. I'm pleased.

Now, if I could just memorize my lines.

Necessity of Down Time

It is easily recognizeable in the dark circles under the eyes and the snippy attitude. Weariness hangs around the stretched out waistline of those permanent press pants and in the shoulders so tense they look like they sprouted out the side of your head. People are not made to run 16-20 hours a day. They just aren't. If you're like me, you notice this about everyone but yourself. Oh, poor Bob! He needs a nap. He needs to have a decent meal and some time to care for his mental health! Poor Sally, she's been working so hard she hasn't even had time to wash her hair! What? You need someone to do what? I'll make time. That other thing will be in by 2:30 at the latest. Don't worry, I'll be up until 1:00 am with my insomnia anyway, I may as well get some work done.

It is amazing how kind and forgiving we can be with others, but when it comes to ourselves enough is never quite enough. I've been handing out advice like Halloween candy these days. Ha! Physician, heal thyself!

One of my biggest faults as a human being is my overwhelming arrogance. I believe everyone else is human. Me? I'm a machine. You wouldn't believe the things I can get done in a day! I remember my boss at my first job telling me "Remember, there is ALWAYS something that needs doing. You should never have any reason to NOT be working." Yes sir! I was a great employee. Sixteen years later I've swallowed that lesson whole and since I work from home I am never off duty.

I should really find a way to get an office so I don't have to bring my work home with me. It looms over my life a cloud- or maybe that's the water damaged ceiling in my bedroom that is threatening to fall? Either way, I've got a lot on my plate and I not only deserve a little down time, I require it. If it weren't my birthday tomorrow I know I would be able to justify putting my needs on the back burner until sometime in February when I am usually depressed anyway.

Since tomorrow IS my birthday, I feel entitled to a little party. I'm going to get a facial and a Shirodara. Delightful. I'm going to take the whole day off- with the exception of movie night with my son. The work that I have to do will wait until I get some sit down time on Saturday. The promo work will still need to be organized. My lesson plans for January will need to be considered. Lines will still need to be memorized, props will need to be gathered, but I've worked my butt off and I can afford to take this day off.

I keep waiting for someone to tell me to sit down and take a break. I say it enough to others mostly because I truly believe they need it, but also because I would like the validation of hearing it back. However, I never do. I once got upset with a teacher because he was always stroking other students' egos with phrases like "You have so much talent..." and " You have no reason to doubt your capacity..." while he would always talk to me like I knew better. One day after I had worked on a scene that I felt lacked the appropriate amount of rehearsal time he told me, "I think it's a testament to your talent that you even got this far...". I thanked him and he said, "I didn't mean it as a complement." That's when I laid into him about how he always reassured others about their ability and that this is the first time he had ever mentioned the word "talent" in reference to me and that- regardless of the context- I was going to latch on to the idea that my talent was even acknowledged. He just blinked at me and said, "I never thought for a second that you needed to hear that."

In honor of an over achiever's birthday, tell someone who you think is invincible to sit down and take a break. Tell someone who you think has all the confidence in the world that they are doing a good job at something. They need to hear it, too.

A Finger In Every Pie

Seriously, divas are not cute. They're not funny and they shouldn't be tolerated.

There has been some talk amongst my circle of friends about how directors are wanting to copyright stage directions. How desperate for attention and validation is that? You can't go upstage left on that line without paying me two dollars! I WROTE upstage left! Oh please.

It isn't to say that directors do not make an important contribution to any production, they do. I'd like to think I've come up with some nice things as a director. But when is enough enough? I've had work stolen from me. I know how much it stings and how unfair it is that someone else should profit from your hard labor. Of course, I also know that my work was stolen because it was good. I also know that if Samuel French prints those stage directions chances are that the only people who are going to actually use them will be high schools and community theatres. Any professional director would make another choice and if they are unable or unwilling to make another choice, then maybe they need all the help they can get.

There's nothing new under the sun. I'm tiring of the paranoia. It's getting old sitting around thinking of ways to talk up a show or a script or whatever I've been working on without actually giving any of the concept away for fear I may be scooped or outright robbed. Doing just about anything in this business is hard enough without everyone needing to have a cut of this or a piece of that. I hate the thought that I might be living and working among vultures desperate to pick away at my creative carcass even though I still have some life in me. This is an ensemble artform and for ensembles to work there needs to be an element of trust and generosity. All the grubbing makes me nauseous.

Of course I realize that people need to be properly compensated for their efforts and appropriately recognized for their contributions. I just feel sick and disgusted that we live in a day and age where it is NECESSARY to plan the appropriate kudos in advance. Alas, people scramble to protect their intellectual property because in this day and age it is the only property a person can afford to own. I just lament the fact that the days of "Hey guys! I got an idea! Let's put on a show!" are long gone. Instead we have to worry about directors who want to interfere with the writer's ability to publish. Then there are actors who believe their face and figure are such a valuable commodity that they will bog down a project with heavy paychecks and ludicrous perks. Or how about producers who bristle at any touch of controversy and steamroll the artists they pretend to champion all to line their pockets with a few more dollars? When everyone is out for themselves there is no ensemble. I'm afraid the ensemble is dead. When the ensemble dies, I'm afraid the stories die with them.

Art should be given with an open heart. Perhaps I'm naive. I know that if I continue in my career with that as a guiding principle that people will take advantage of me over and over again. But you cannot steal from me that which I willingly give. I wish I was brave enough to invoke the concept of karma in my artistic pursuits. I wouldn't screw you intentionally, so don't screw me or you'll pay Universal consequences! I think I might be happier if I let this stuff go, but since everyone else has to work within this letigious framework then so do I. Right? Or is it that I am just too chicken to throw myself to the wolves?

I have some time to consider my options, but I'd rather just make my art.