thanks

I have an amazing family. Wonderful and loyal friends. Two dogs that would do anything for us.

But I am also thankful for:

orange seeds

the space heater in my office

the down comforter that my husband had before I met him that keeps us beyond cozy on cold nights

green beans (because after 35 years I actually like them and the kid will eat them too)

the bedtime ritual for the kid

the mountain hikes I am minutes away from

resolution check in

Here were my new years resolutions. How have I been doing... hmmmm....


Finish the two big writing projects that I have on my desk. One got done, still working on the other - one and 1/2 months to go.

Eat better, feed the family better food. This is going well. Better choices. expanding the repertoire.

make a fantastic cake. I conquered butter cream frosting, fondant, but not the actual cake - but I baked bread!

exercise (of course...) hahahahahahah okay I am walking more

walk the dogs more doing better here

Take a vacation with the husband and the kid this did happen, but husband had to work a lot and I worked too. we suck. maybe the holidays will be better.

have at least one DATE a month with the husband - that does NOT involve an opening night or theatre or work FAIL

Spend more time with Friends doing better here

Use the telescope with the kid once. but now that it is dark at 5...

the backyard (nothing more needs to be said) - 1/2 done.

the kitchen (paint those cabinets and the walls) - guess what is going on the list for next year!

be better about money and really get a handle on the cash flow - out of credit card debt!

No more new TV Shows TiVoed!!!!! Big fail. Got addicted to a couple new things...damn the magic box

Less TV... less TV... less TV... more books - think the reading list will be better this year

the voice from above

Call from agent.

"What plays are you writing?"

I describe them.

"The 5 women one - comedy?"

Yes, but quirky, my reply.

"Send it to me ASAP. You're on my mind. I want to get you produced. ______ is looking for comedies."

Thanksgiving okay?

"Get it done."

Yes, ma'am.


Guess I know what I'm working on. Love those subtle kicks in the tuckus.

Juices

Hey there creative juices - where in the hell have you been the last 9 months? I loose my job in Feb... and have been waiting for you to arrive... I have done everything to get you to come play with me. And NOW you pay me a visit. I'm so pleased and honored to have you all here with me - but did all of you have to come at once?

I don't know which one of you to pay attention to first. I know I can't give you all the one-on-one time you deserve right now.

But, I promise that I will work with each of you - but ya gotta be patient.

One at a time kids.

Now, get in an orderly line in my brain and help me elect who goes first.

writing

A friend of mine is giving up the internet for a year.

I know.

Think about the implications of that.

But, then in dawned on me. 15 years ago, I lived in a different country with no computer and no cell phone. I had a scheduled time when I would go to a pay phone, call my parents collect, they would refuse the charges and then they would call me back. Depending on the name I used, they knew which public phone to call me back on. I would chat with them for about 20 minutes and that was it.

I became an avid letter writer. My mom, my friends, my grandparents, would all receive letters. One of my dearest friends would write to me every day, but only mail once a week. I did the same with her. The weekly deliciously large envelops were thrilling to receive. Like a Jane Austin heroine, I would take my mail, run to my room, lock the door and devour the read. We both used these yellow tablets that would fit beautifully (without having to fold) into a 6X9 envelop.

I had a ritual of sitting at my desk every night to compose a letter. I carried a notepad in my bag to record any silly thing that would happen during the day.

I still have all the letters my friend wrote me. My grandmother saved all the letters I sent her.

I kept a journal too. Since I didn't have a computer, it was hand written on school purchased notepads. I wrote incredibly small to save paper (I knew I would end up bringing these home with me).

I don't remember longing for more information. I don't remember ever feeling out of touch with anyone.

Now I spend so much time reading the "news feed" on facebook or playing inane games. It's a huge time suck.

picture

When I got home yesterday after thinking about family and I got a letter.
Grandma sent me a picture of her bald head. The chemotherapy has made her loose it. So I called her. She actually sounds great. HAs no appetite. So I told her, like a good granddaughter should, pot will cure that - it gives ya the munchies. She just laughed.
My uncle is there with her (and my grandpa) and he shaved his head too! Nice.

Family

I had a conversation with one of the maintenance guys today. He tends to check on our building when I have office hours.
We talked about Halloween and kids. He has a 4 month old grandson which he gets to watch 3-4 times a week. His face lit up when he talked about the time with the child.

I wish my family was closer.

The relationship I have with my grandparents is amazing. I want my daughter to have the same... but there is a minimum 2 hour drive to see any of them (and that's my sisters). My mom - in another state. Husbands parents - 4 hours away.

That family network would be nice...

people are strange

I wonder if in this day and age of blogging, of being able to "post a comment" on a news story and vent ones opinion is changing the way we talk to each other.

Two interesting things happened yesterday.

A student came into my office and said, 'I don't know what I should be learning from this class." After some discussion, it seems that he wasn't getting anything out of listening to other people's writing projects. He wasn't able to discern the good writing from the mediocre. I watched him that day and he only perked up and payed attention when his theatre friends read their projects. Ahh, the problem. He feels superior to people in the class... And what does it mean that students can't learn from each other? That they can't listen...

The second things happened after the show last night. I talked to a very nice man, playwright and director (probably in his 60s) who was from the same country in which the play is set. Nice comments, wanted me to use the chair playing space more... but other than that fine. The next guy, called to me by name (first name). Did I know him, no. He demanded to know why a character did what he did int he show - he felt there needed to be more urgency. Thanks, says I, and then I leave to do some notes. But the guys is still waiting for me. He has other "plausibility" issues with the play. His enthusiasm bordered on hostility with me (come to find out he asked the house manger where he could fine him, aka, the director, and demonstrated a great deal of shock at my gender). At one point he asked me "Is that what is happening inside the actor?" I said, "that's a question for the actor." Then in a high pitched shocked "j'accuse" voice he said, "but YOU"RE the director.". I said, "Yes I am, and that is what the actor and I discussed." And which point I was saved by a staff member.

The guy was still talking with his "date" outside the theatre when I left. I used the side door.

The man never introduced himself to me. Nor did he say anything positive about his experience (his pay-what-you-will expereince).

It made me remember another incident a few years ago, when, in a discussion with an audience, I said "my job is to just stay out of the way of the talent." It was a flip response, got a laugh as people knew that I was joking. But a patron wrote a letter to the artistic director telling him to come in and save my show becuase of that comment (my show was a huge success and the AD stayed the hell out of my way).

But what give people the right to just accost me (and I did feel accosted by this man) or any artist? I understand the need to express yourself and I am thrilled when I create art that can do just that. But the hostility? There is no place for that. Sure I have pissed many people off and have had numerous discussions - but always in a post-show format. I don't mind hostility (or is it passion) when it is in a safe venue to discuss it... but in the lobby after the show... what the hell is that about? And to lack all social skills, like an introduction?

What a roller coaster I have been on. People take things so literally. And those negative encounters tend to stick with you more than the positive ones.

I also had a women say she loved the show (the one going on now) and asked if I directed a certain show last season. Upon hearing that I had, she decided I was her new favorite director.

Guess which one I will remember more?

wow

A student just walked by my office and then doubled back.

She said I was inspiring becuase I am doing what she wants to do. and now she knows its possible.

That made my day.

inspired

Okay
So all it takes are two kicks in my ass on the same day to remind me why I like what I do.

1. A crazy honor being bestowed on me that reminds me that I have a great career
2. And interview where I discussed why what I do is important.

serendipity

Fate is bizarre.

Today I had dinner with an old friend who worked with me on a show 10 years ago as a dramaturg and then acted in the same show (updated) four years ago. The play was a show I had adapted from a book. Today, my book club met and we talked about that book.

When I adapted the book - there were many similarities between it (a classic from the early 1800s) and what was happening in technology today. Both times I did the show, huge medical advances were being made and publicized while the rehearsal process was underway -- all of which was woven into the show... I knew I was working on the right show.

Haven't had that feeling of knowing I was working on the right project in a long time.

first day

One of my friends recently went to be with her sister when her sister gave birth to her first child. It made me remember how my sister was in the room when I gave birth to my daughter. Just my husband and my sister. It is incredibly amazing how my daughter is completely enamored with my sis. She misses my sister and wants to see her all the time.

My daughter has been asking me to tell her stories of my childhood. I instantly tell stories of being at my grandparents in the summer. We had a family reunion a couple weeks ago and I did an oral history of my grandmother - it was incredibly fascinating. She reminded me that they (she and grandpa) used to watch me. Tales of me sleeping with them and keeping them up all night - I wouldn't sleep alone (just like my kid). My grandmother was with my mom when I was born. My dad? Well, he was in the Navy and it was during the Vietnam conflict, so I didn't meet him until I was almost 1.

Mom almost had me in the hallway at the hospital. My grandmother, who was a nurse and helped start pediatric wards, told the doctors that I was on my way and they chose to ignore her. So she started coaching my mom. When the doctor walked by - he realized he better get my mom in a room - and here I came.

So grandma and mom where the first voices I heard when I came into this world.

Those first voices are important and lasting. New studies have been popping up about how a child comes into the world. I am glad those two women where there when I got here. I am elated my sister and my husband welcomed my daughter with me. And I am thrilled for my friend for the bond she now has with her nephew.

haunted by the blank page

The blank page is terrifying. I have been reading some playwriting texts lately for a class I am teaching and I find it really amusing that a couple of these authors say that fear of the blank page is bullshit - that you should just be able to write. And if you write everyday it shouldn't be a problem.

Well, I disagree.

The blank page does offers an endless number of possibilities. But to fill it with just the right thing can be daunting. I don't like to write without a purpose. The fear of the page should be respected becuase it means that you don't want to just spew crap - that you take the art form seriously.

So fear of the blank page should be respected. It is natural.

How to get over it?
One of the techniques I have given my students is to think about what is important to them and write about that. Easier said than done. So, I give them a list of 28 questions that I got from a theatre practitioner that I respect... questions like:
What are the three most important issues facing the world today?
to
What are five flavors that give you pleasure to taste. (There is nothing like an ode to chocolate to inspire).

That seems to help.

Today I should follow my own advice and answer those questions myself.

haunted by wine

ahhhhh

Haunted

Today was a good day, but I didn't think it would be.

I had a rough go yesterday - tough rehearsal, feeling like a lousy artist & crappy mom.
I was also incredibly angry about everything - not a pity party so much as just anger at the universe. Perhaps a little pms (but I do so hate blaming hormones)

I am starting to realize that I am a little haunted by my past artistic life. I look at all these amazing pictures of the art I created prior to 2006. There was some amazing work - visual poetry on stage. Explorations into form and content. It wasn't easy to achieve that - but I had a dedicated group backing me up and occasionally fighting with me - but in a good way. Yes there was heart ache, yes there were times I really hated it but I had artistic freedom. We could try and do anything. It was encouraged. We could be adventurous. We could fail and it was okay.

I don't have it anymore - that kind of freedom. Really. I am working for others now - other artistic visions, adhering to other company missions. The assignments I have been given have all been main stream & realistic. Of course, I enjoy the work I do - the collaboration of it all - a new group of amazing artists - but I am not doing what I do best. I am not breaking form - in fact I am just perpetuating the type of theatre I used to challenge/deconstruct/etc.

Do I feel like a sell out? Occasionally, yes, I think I do. How do I justify it then, well - the work is intellectually satisfying. II have been given shows that "say" things - important things about the world we live in. It is not aesthetically pleasing, but at least I am still making people think. Its provocative.

So what do I do?

Hmmm.

There's the rub.

bravery

On Monday I had to assign my students scenes for their final. I asked them if they wanted to pick and they all said "no - you pick for us"

So I did.

To one pair I assigned the opening scene of a play about a woman who has lost her child. In the scene she is folding the boys cloths to send them off to the Salvation Army. Her sister is in the scene and needs to tell her she is pregnant.

My student, who is probably in her late 30s, came up to me and said, 'I lost my son three years ago." I immediately offered to change the script. She wanted to read the play anyway.

I sent her and her scene partner another script right after class.

I received an e-mail from her today saying that she wants to do the scene. She gets it and wants to do it.

That is bravery right there.

while the hubby is away

The husband gone for the week. He travels a lot, so we're used to it.

The kid and I fall into a bit of a different routine. It's not totally different from our regular routine. I will probably get her out of the house anywhere from 15mintues to 1/2 an hour earlier than I do when the spouse is home. Her pre-school is 20 minutes away. We pay for her to be there from 7:30am-1pm. We get her there usually at 9... But, when the husband isn't home, I like to take advantage of the 90 minutes. So, we'll leave the house around 8, instead of 8:30.

I also plan more activities. Perhaps it is just me not wanting to be just stuck in the house without another parent, but there will be more playdates and activities.

While the husband is away, we miss him terribly. But the re-entry is always tough - especially when he's gone for more than a couple days. As he likes to point out, I act as if he is in my way. And he's right. I'll get into a pattern and there is a little annoyance (which is not completely hidden) when that is interrupted.

books and bed

The bedtime routine with my daughter has altered lately.

At 7:30 she goes to Kiki's boutique to "buy" her Pjs. Yes, she gets her purse and fake money. Then she sees 'The fashion guru" aka the husband to show off the outfit.

The fashion guru takes her to brush her teeth, go potty, feed her fish, pick out three books for mommy to read, and mark the day off the calendar.

I read the books to her and together we turn off the light (leaving the fish tank on until I go to bed).

I then lay with her until she goes to sleep. A process that can take 15-45 minutes. A process that sometimes makes me fall asleep too.

Bet ya don't have to think to hard about the part I need to change.

calendar

My daughter and I have a routine at bedtime. We cross a day off the calendar.

Last night, she wanted to look at all the months coming up.

When we got to December, I said, "And there's mommy's birthday and then the fairies come and the Christmas."

And her little voice said, 'And then we die."

I stopped, looked at her and said, "Why do you think that?"

"There are no more days."

"Oh honey, in December we'll get another calendar that has the next year on it."

"Oh"

Wow.

librarys

Just spent an hour with a friend looking at her library. Amazing collections of books that need to be organized. Fun.

So why do we organize our books? why are certain titles okay for the livign room and others relegated to the bedroom?

I have fiction in the living room. Older books under glass. Non-fiction is all in my home office. I will admit that the home office library is very anal. I have a theatre section, a film section, a feminist section, history, religion, philosphy and science.
I have books based on certain research projects huddled together. It makes sense to me...

I have started organizing my daughter's library. She's four. Every three days or so, I put everything back. That way she (and I) can find what we're looking for.

Maybe I have just found a good outlet for my OCD.