9/29/05 (actually 9/30)
I should go to bed. It’s 1:25 A.M. and I’ve been up since 5 (4, really, but I refused to get out of bed until my alarm went off). I’ve had a long, difficult week, worked way too hard, and have had one drink (whatever the hell a whiskey sidecar is, it’s dangerous for a lightweight like me). The bed should be where I’m headed.
Instead, I’m sitting on it instead of climbing in it, not ready to let go of the day yet.
I transcribed over 300 urology reports this week. I never want to type erectile dysfunction or obstructed voiding pattern again. Way too many hours at the computer. My whole body aches from sitting. Need yoga!
That led to me not really getting anything done this week that I wanted to.
Money’s tight. Tough living on my own for the first time in 16 years.
But couldn’t wait to get to the theater tonight. Small audience, as is the curse of small theater. Enthusiastic, though. They were with Chairman and Kristy every step of the way.
And the two of them (Chairman and Kristy) were in fine form tonight. The show is really starting to gel. Some beautiful work on both their parts. Again, I realized how lucky I am to work with this talent. I’m so glad to work on this piece with Chairman and really see what he can do. I’ve heard for years how good he is and now he gets to shine. So glad to be a part of that.
Trying to look ahead tonight and see what the powers that be have in store for me. They keep teasing me with dreams that show me glimpses of possibilities. And since I tend to have very prophetic dreams, those possibilities could very easily turn into realities. And I’m not sure I’m ready for some of those possibilities to manifest yet.
Okay, I’m obtuse tonight. Blame the whiskey (damn you, AJ, it’s your fault). The whiskey’s probably also responsible for the warm, comfortable feeling enveloping me right now. Or it could be a combination of the show and hanging out with the usual gang at Koji’s, watching the singing, feeling the closeness and friendship. Enjoying just being a part of the group tonight, not having to stand out and be clever and entertaining. I could just sit back and enjoy tonight and I liked that. Nah, probably the whiskey.
Anyway, just felt like I had to let some of this out of my head tonight before the pink polka dot bra and the Supergirl underwear goes into the drawer to await another evening of fun. Or is that TMI?
Thursday, September 29, 2005
Monday, September 26, 2005
Introspection
Kinda in a weird place tonight (when am I not?).
Saw my therapist today and that always makes me take all my emotions, throw them up in the air and see where they land. While I think progress is being made, I always feel a little unbalanced for a while afterwards.
Therapy makes you look into all the deep, dark corners of your life. Ironically, I was sitting in the waiting room, reading this article about Werner Hertzog, the filmmaker, in a psychology magazine, asking him what he thinks about psychology. He basically said, “When you move into an apartment, you cannot start to illuminate every last corner with neon light. If there are no dark corners or hidden niches, your house becomes uninhabitable. Human beings who are trying to self-reflect and explore their innermost being to the last corner become uninhabitable people.” He went on to say about understanding other people, “By dint of compassion, you understand other people, and there is a concordance of hearts. That is something different. Move away from psychology and engage in concordance of hearts.” (Here’s the link for those of you who are curious, AJ, http://cms.psychologytoday.com/rss/pto-20050620-000014.html).
While I liked a lot of what he said, I think there is value to therapy otherwise I wouldn’t be in it. But I do like the phrase “engage in concordance of hearts.” I can’t explain what I like about it but I find it intriguing. The idea that if we could just accept and embrace the heart of each other, we would find understanding and acceptance of each other and maybe not judge so harshly and not hurt so much the people we love. We might not question when we love someone or who that person is. It might make it a little easier to find someone to love or to say to someone, hey, you know what, I love you, I dig you, I want to be with you for a while. Whatever happens. Then when it ends, to be able to say, thank you for sharing your life for a little while. Blessings on the rest of it.
Okay, I shouldn’t blog when I’m feeling philosophical. But going to these sessions have been interesting and have really shed some light into the dark corners and made me face some of the demons, some of the terrors, some of the things that I don’t want to share but I probably should. It makes me look my insecurity in the eye and, while I am not able yet to spit in its eye, I can at least look at it and not run screaming away from it. I can look at the loneliness in my life and accept that it’s not a bad thing to say to someone, hey, I’m lonely right now, I could use a friend, be my friend and keep me from being lonely. I’m afraid to say that out loud because it feels too intrusive into someone else’s space. I always figure you should know I’m lonely, dammit, and come to me without my having to ask for it. But I’m learning that, while some people can read my mind while I’m directing, it doesn’t mean anyone can read my mind when I keep it closed off and behind very high walls.
I’m struggling to learn to let some cherished people into the dark places in my soul and let them see what’s in there. While I don’t think I want to illuminate my whole being with neon, I think shedding some light on those dark places and clearing out the cobwebs might not be so bad. Dispelling the demons and releasing the blackness will hopefully lead to something less frightening and maybe to someone who’s not afraid of those dark places in me. Someone who will allow me the dark moments and not try to make me shut the door on those dark rooms. Someone who will hold my hand while I traverse those corridors, bearing only a small candle, and tell me he’ll be waiting there on the porch when I’m ready to let him in. Hopefully, he will bring his own light and maybe let me into his sheltered rooms, for me to shed a little light on his own darkness.
Saw my therapist today and that always makes me take all my emotions, throw them up in the air and see where they land. While I think progress is being made, I always feel a little unbalanced for a while afterwards.
Therapy makes you look into all the deep, dark corners of your life. Ironically, I was sitting in the waiting room, reading this article about Werner Hertzog, the filmmaker, in a psychology magazine, asking him what he thinks about psychology. He basically said, “When you move into an apartment, you cannot start to illuminate every last corner with neon light. If there are no dark corners or hidden niches, your house becomes uninhabitable. Human beings who are trying to self-reflect and explore their innermost being to the last corner become uninhabitable people.” He went on to say about understanding other people, “By dint of compassion, you understand other people, and there is a concordance of hearts. That is something different. Move away from psychology and engage in concordance of hearts.” (Here’s the link for those of you who are curious, AJ, http://cms.psychologytoday.com/rss/pto-20050620-000014.html).
While I liked a lot of what he said, I think there is value to therapy otherwise I wouldn’t be in it. But I do like the phrase “engage in concordance of hearts.” I can’t explain what I like about it but I find it intriguing. The idea that if we could just accept and embrace the heart of each other, we would find understanding and acceptance of each other and maybe not judge so harshly and not hurt so much the people we love. We might not question when we love someone or who that person is. It might make it a little easier to find someone to love or to say to someone, hey, you know what, I love you, I dig you, I want to be with you for a while. Whatever happens. Then when it ends, to be able to say, thank you for sharing your life for a little while. Blessings on the rest of it.
Okay, I shouldn’t blog when I’m feeling philosophical. But going to these sessions have been interesting and have really shed some light into the dark corners and made me face some of the demons, some of the terrors, some of the things that I don’t want to share but I probably should. It makes me look my insecurity in the eye and, while I am not able yet to spit in its eye, I can at least look at it and not run screaming away from it. I can look at the loneliness in my life and accept that it’s not a bad thing to say to someone, hey, I’m lonely right now, I could use a friend, be my friend and keep me from being lonely. I’m afraid to say that out loud because it feels too intrusive into someone else’s space. I always figure you should know I’m lonely, dammit, and come to me without my having to ask for it. But I’m learning that, while some people can read my mind while I’m directing, it doesn’t mean anyone can read my mind when I keep it closed off and behind very high walls.
I’m struggling to learn to let some cherished people into the dark places in my soul and let them see what’s in there. While I don’t think I want to illuminate my whole being with neon, I think shedding some light on those dark places and clearing out the cobwebs might not be so bad. Dispelling the demons and releasing the blackness will hopefully lead to something less frightening and maybe to someone who’s not afraid of those dark places in me. Someone who will allow me the dark moments and not try to make me shut the door on those dark rooms. Someone who will hold my hand while I traverse those corridors, bearing only a small candle, and tell me he’ll be waiting there on the porch when I’m ready to let him in. Hopefully, he will bring his own light and maybe let me into his sheltered rooms, for me to shed a little light on his own darkness.
Saturday, September 24, 2005
"Afterplay" opens
It’s 6:47 the morning of opening night for “Afterplay” and, of course, insomnia has the better of me. I’ve had about four hours sleep, which is actually good for me the night before opening.
This play has been a real learning experience for me. Each one seems to be, which is good, and each one is becoming special for its own reason.
“Sister Mary Ignatius Explains It All To You” was only just over a year ago yet it seems a lifetime. That play was special for me because it was the first one that I really did alone, without my ex whispering instructions in my ear. It was very scary but very fulfilling. And it was the first of my collaboration with Chairman. It was the first time I really got a glimpse into the talent I knew he had.
The holiday one acts last year were fun, silly, and serious all at once. To do two such diverse one-acts together – “Christmas Card” where a man murders his totally dysfunctional family then poses their bodies for a Christmas card and “Christmas Miracle” where a woman dying of cancer struggles to put her family back together – gave me great satisfaction in that I think I handled the material of both rather well. Drama has always intimidated me because, as an actress, I could never get to the place I needed to be in dramatic performance. But working with such talented actors on both shows really let me relax and not even think about the difference in the two shows.
“Lloyd’s Prayer” will always be just a little more special than most, I think, for so many reasons. I really found myself as a director on “Lloyd’s” and stopped listening to the inner critic for the first time in a long time. I felt comfortable in my own skin as a director. It’s the show that really cemented for me that this is what I am meant to do with my life. It’s the show where I found several really amazing friends and cemented my long-standing friendship with Chairman. It showed me that I was worth something creatively and that was the best discovery of my life. I don’t think the cast and crew of that show will ever realize how profoundly it affected my life in so many ways. And being LA Weekly Pick of the Week didn’t hurt either. Now I get to be director of the critically acclaimed “Lloyd’s Prayer.’
And “Afterplay” takes its place with the others. This one has been challenging. Our rehearsal period was extremely short. Although it is a one act, it’s a very intimate, delicate one act that relies solely on the performances of the two actors seated at the table. I learned on this one that I still have a lot to learn – in a good way. Working with Paul Wagar was intimidating at first because he’s the artistic director and I was concerned that he was not going to let me do this my way. I was concerned that he was going to force me to follow his vision for the piece or just push me aside and basically direct it himself. Well, it did take us a couple of rehearsals to find our rhythm. And he was very gracious when I took him aside and talked to him about how I liked to work. He could not have been more respectful and understanding. And I learned so much from him these past few weeks, which makes me very glad we had this opportunity to work together. I saw a side to Paul that I didn’t know existed – a nurturing, encouraging side that I don’t think people see enough of sometimes. He made me realize that I am still a young director, figuring it out, but gave me the confidence that I am on the right track and that all I really need is a few more tools in my arsenal to take me to the next level.
The work on this show has been much different than the way I like to work, which has been an education in and of itself. Because of the intimacy, there needed to be so much work on the tiniest little detail such as the inflection of a single word in a line which can change the entire meaning of that line.
Chairman, as always, is instinct incarnate and brought so much to the table, literally, that it was very easy to take him one more step to the gentle performance he gives. That is the greatest pleasure of this show is seeing the side of this incredibly talented actor that I don’t think he gets a chance to show very often. He should be a leading man. And I hope to be able to continue this very special collaboration with him for years to come.
Kristy was a challenge in that she works very differently from most of the actors I’ve worked with recently and that’s what showed me where my learning curve is. She needed much more specific direction, moment to moment stuff that Paul talks about a lot lately. She is not as instinctive as I am used to so it was hard for me to find the right way to communicate and connect with her. I discovered there’s a whole language that I yet lack due to simply lack of experience. But with Paul’s example and encouragement, I think she and I got to a place where we communicated in somewhat of a Berlitz version of Paul’s moment to moment work. I’m sorry we didn’t have a longer rehearsal period so that she and I could have mined even more out of these lessons. But her performance is going to be a very beautiful, nuanced, elegant performance.
There have been other shows in between the Ark shows and they usually include Arkers, which is the beauty of working with this company. Those have been special as well but the ones within the Ark itself seem to be where I find the most special.
So now I’m going to go have some breakfast somewhere outdoors and peaceful – probably The Alcove – and maybe bring the laptop and see if something comes out of my head. Then finish up the myriad of errands to be run before auditions this afternoon. Then we open. I can’t wait.
This play has been a real learning experience for me. Each one seems to be, which is good, and each one is becoming special for its own reason.
“Sister Mary Ignatius Explains It All To You” was only just over a year ago yet it seems a lifetime. That play was special for me because it was the first one that I really did alone, without my ex whispering instructions in my ear. It was very scary but very fulfilling. And it was the first of my collaboration with Chairman. It was the first time I really got a glimpse into the talent I knew he had.
The holiday one acts last year were fun, silly, and serious all at once. To do two such diverse one-acts together – “Christmas Card” where a man murders his totally dysfunctional family then poses their bodies for a Christmas card and “Christmas Miracle” where a woman dying of cancer struggles to put her family back together – gave me great satisfaction in that I think I handled the material of both rather well. Drama has always intimidated me because, as an actress, I could never get to the place I needed to be in dramatic performance. But working with such talented actors on both shows really let me relax and not even think about the difference in the two shows.
“Lloyd’s Prayer” will always be just a little more special than most, I think, for so many reasons. I really found myself as a director on “Lloyd’s” and stopped listening to the inner critic for the first time in a long time. I felt comfortable in my own skin as a director. It’s the show that really cemented for me that this is what I am meant to do with my life. It’s the show where I found several really amazing friends and cemented my long-standing friendship with Chairman. It showed me that I was worth something creatively and that was the best discovery of my life. I don’t think the cast and crew of that show will ever realize how profoundly it affected my life in so many ways. And being LA Weekly Pick of the Week didn’t hurt either. Now I get to be director of the critically acclaimed “Lloyd’s Prayer.’
And “Afterplay” takes its place with the others. This one has been challenging. Our rehearsal period was extremely short. Although it is a one act, it’s a very intimate, delicate one act that relies solely on the performances of the two actors seated at the table. I learned on this one that I still have a lot to learn – in a good way. Working with Paul Wagar was intimidating at first because he’s the artistic director and I was concerned that he was not going to let me do this my way. I was concerned that he was going to force me to follow his vision for the piece or just push me aside and basically direct it himself. Well, it did take us a couple of rehearsals to find our rhythm. And he was very gracious when I took him aside and talked to him about how I liked to work. He could not have been more respectful and understanding. And I learned so much from him these past few weeks, which makes me very glad we had this opportunity to work together. I saw a side to Paul that I didn’t know existed – a nurturing, encouraging side that I don’t think people see enough of sometimes. He made me realize that I am still a young director, figuring it out, but gave me the confidence that I am on the right track and that all I really need is a few more tools in my arsenal to take me to the next level.
The work on this show has been much different than the way I like to work, which has been an education in and of itself. Because of the intimacy, there needed to be so much work on the tiniest little detail such as the inflection of a single word in a line which can change the entire meaning of that line.
Chairman, as always, is instinct incarnate and brought so much to the table, literally, that it was very easy to take him one more step to the gentle performance he gives. That is the greatest pleasure of this show is seeing the side of this incredibly talented actor that I don’t think he gets a chance to show very often. He should be a leading man. And I hope to be able to continue this very special collaboration with him for years to come.
Kristy was a challenge in that she works very differently from most of the actors I’ve worked with recently and that’s what showed me where my learning curve is. She needed much more specific direction, moment to moment stuff that Paul talks about a lot lately. She is not as instinctive as I am used to so it was hard for me to find the right way to communicate and connect with her. I discovered there’s a whole language that I yet lack due to simply lack of experience. But with Paul’s example and encouragement, I think she and I got to a place where we communicated in somewhat of a Berlitz version of Paul’s moment to moment work. I’m sorry we didn’t have a longer rehearsal period so that she and I could have mined even more out of these lessons. But her performance is going to be a very beautiful, nuanced, elegant performance.
There have been other shows in between the Ark shows and they usually include Arkers, which is the beauty of working with this company. Those have been special as well but the ones within the Ark itself seem to be where I find the most special.
So now I’m going to go have some breakfast somewhere outdoors and peaceful – probably The Alcove – and maybe bring the laptop and see if something comes out of my head. Then finish up the myriad of errands to be run before auditions this afternoon. Then we open. I can’t wait.
Friday, September 23, 2005
Just before opening "Afterplay"
9/22/05 actually 9/23
Tired and tired and, oh, yeah, tired.
It’s two days before we open “Afterplay” and all the hard work is happening now. The joy of small theater – I get to be props person, production manager, stage manager this weekend and, oh, yeah, direct the thing.
But I’m really not complaining. It’s hard work, yes, but at the end of a long day like today, I come home to my purring furball (aka Twyla) and sit and contemplate how lucky I am to be complaining about directing. I’ve spent so many years focusing on getting my career going and now that it is, it’s really hard to bitch.
Yes, I’m tired but it’s because we worked really hard tonight, nailing down those moment-to-moment things. It’s been a challenge to work with Paul, the artistic director, on this just because it’s making sure my ego is kept in check so I can listen to what he’s saying and learn from it. And I’m glad I did that because I have found myself taking little nuggets of information away from each rehearsal that I hope will inform my growth as a director. And it’s been relatively painless, actually. Paul has been amazingly respectful and allows defers to me to make sure what he’s saying is within my vision. And the fact that he’s been at most of the rehearsals means he at least knows what my vision is and he’s been careful not to tread on that. I know it must be frustrating for the actors to be getting notes from both me and Paul (as “coach”) but I think it’s been a help in the long run because we had such a short rehearsal period.
But there were several little gems tonight that made me very excited about this show. Chairman, always consistent and intuition on two feet, found even more levels to Andrey tonight somehow. And I love the way he takes direction. Sops it up and soaks it in. Makes it look effortless. And Kristy is learning more to trust her own instinct and letting go of the lines more. She stayed later to work one on one with Paul and I and I’m glad she did as we found some lovely moments that we might have missed otherwise.
I can’t say it enough – I love this process. I cannot wait until tomorrow to see what else we can find before we do our preview. And I can’t wait to see where the show will be in three weeks as Chairman and Kristy settle into the show and then really start to let go and discover what’s underneath.
And I can’t wait for you all to see this show. If you’ve seen Chairman in other Ark shows, I can safely say you have never seen him like this. And Kristy is a delightful find and a gifted actress and the two complement each other beautifully.
So remember, Friday is preview (donation only) and Saturday is opening night with all the accompanying hoopla. I’m planning on vodka for the after-party (not drinking it myself but I’m more than happy to share it) and looking forward to the run.
Tired and tired and, oh, yeah, tired.
It’s two days before we open “Afterplay” and all the hard work is happening now. The joy of small theater – I get to be props person, production manager, stage manager this weekend and, oh, yeah, direct the thing.
But I’m really not complaining. It’s hard work, yes, but at the end of a long day like today, I come home to my purring furball (aka Twyla) and sit and contemplate how lucky I am to be complaining about directing. I’ve spent so many years focusing on getting my career going and now that it is, it’s really hard to bitch.
Yes, I’m tired but it’s because we worked really hard tonight, nailing down those moment-to-moment things. It’s been a challenge to work with Paul, the artistic director, on this just because it’s making sure my ego is kept in check so I can listen to what he’s saying and learn from it. And I’m glad I did that because I have found myself taking little nuggets of information away from each rehearsal that I hope will inform my growth as a director. And it’s been relatively painless, actually. Paul has been amazingly respectful and allows defers to me to make sure what he’s saying is within my vision. And the fact that he’s been at most of the rehearsals means he at least knows what my vision is and he’s been careful not to tread on that. I know it must be frustrating for the actors to be getting notes from both me and Paul (as “coach”) but I think it’s been a help in the long run because we had such a short rehearsal period.
But there were several little gems tonight that made me very excited about this show. Chairman, always consistent and intuition on two feet, found even more levels to Andrey tonight somehow. And I love the way he takes direction. Sops it up and soaks it in. Makes it look effortless. And Kristy is learning more to trust her own instinct and letting go of the lines more. She stayed later to work one on one with Paul and I and I’m glad she did as we found some lovely moments that we might have missed otherwise.
I can’t say it enough – I love this process. I cannot wait until tomorrow to see what else we can find before we do our preview. And I can’t wait to see where the show will be in three weeks as Chairman and Kristy settle into the show and then really start to let go and discover what’s underneath.
And I can’t wait for you all to see this show. If you’ve seen Chairman in other Ark shows, I can safely say you have never seen him like this. And Kristy is a delightful find and a gifted actress and the two complement each other beautifully.
So remember, Friday is preview (donation only) and Saturday is opening night with all the accompanying hoopla. I’m planning on vodka for the after-party (not drinking it myself but I’m more than happy to share it) and looking forward to the run.
Monday, September 19, 2005
Sacrifice is worth it...
9/19/05
Today, I realized why I have sacrificed so much lately to just keep creating…
I have been at the bottom of a very deep, dark abyss the last few days. Unfortunately, as I get older, the depression (when it comes) comes hard and deep. I somehow manage to soldier on but it takes everything I have to just get out of bed in the morning, never mind actually function throughout the day. It’s a horrible, crippling place to be with no hope or rescue in sight.
Today, I was overwhelmed and frustrated with my work (although trying to be grateful I can work in my underwear), a little daunted by “Afterplay” opening Saturday, dealing with seeing far too much of the soon-to-be ex this week and the weeks coming up with the holiday shows. Basically, suffocating in the pit of bleakness I have been living in lately. I even came very close to calling the soon-to-be and seeing if he would take me back just because it would be so much easier than this unending stretch of uncertainty in front of me.
But I pushed myself to rehearsal, hoping I would at least be coherent and say something moderately inspiring since both my actors have worked so hard to get to this point.
Then Chairman came in and he always lifts my heart – as I’ve said before, one of my quartet of favorite men.
SIDEBAR: Okay, used to be three but there are now four men with whom I am deeply, madly, crazily in love with for their talent, their hearts and souls, and their ability to make me smile and laugh even at the end of the world. Gee, if only I could put all four of them together, what a man that would make. They touch my life, my work and my soul.
Okay, back to the blog.
So as much as I wanted to be bleak and cold and miserable, seeing Chairman won’t let me. Then Kristy came in and her enthusiasm and passion for this part picked me up a bit more.
As we got into things, I could feel this heaviness and depression push back a bit. Although it was not an easy rehearsal – I sort of dread this point of rehearsal, the nit-picky, stop and start part – I found myself getting more and more immersed in the process. I love nothing more than the back and forth between myself and an actor. Argue with me, disagree with me but you’d better have a point as to why you don’t agree with me. I love to watch how this exchange makes the project richer and the performances grow. As I’ve said before, I love the shorthand between Chairman and I – “on that line”… “you want more”…”yeah, something…” “got it.” And he does exactly what I’ve been thinking I want him to do.
And to watch the moments that grow out of the actors finding and connecting with each other and themselves. Those moments when they discover the secret inside life of the character. Those moments that I, as a director, cannot create. They have to come from the actor’s internal organs.
I found myself laughing out loud at a few of the wonderful moments in this play while Chairman and Kristy discovered their characters. I couldn’t take my eyes off them as they connected viscerally and emotionally. I held my breath over a couple of delicate, tenuous moments that were so pure and so sweet.
By the time we were done and Chairman and Kristy both said goodbye, the darkness in my life had parted a bit and the weight of the world had been reduced to just the weight of a continent. I felt like I had accomplished more in the short time that we were together than I had in the past four days put together.
As I gathered my bag and walked to my car, I came to the realization that I do live to direct. If I couldn’t do this, I wouldn’t live. It’s as simple as that. And it’s worth the sacrifice, no matter what it is, because this is what I was meant to do.
And this is just the beginning of a very long road, which will be fraught with more dark days but hopefully filled with more than its share of joyful days. All I know is that any time I get to do this work, God has blessed me with the most amazing gift that He could.
Today, I realized why I have sacrificed so much lately to just keep creating…
I have been at the bottom of a very deep, dark abyss the last few days. Unfortunately, as I get older, the depression (when it comes) comes hard and deep. I somehow manage to soldier on but it takes everything I have to just get out of bed in the morning, never mind actually function throughout the day. It’s a horrible, crippling place to be with no hope or rescue in sight.
Today, I was overwhelmed and frustrated with my work (although trying to be grateful I can work in my underwear), a little daunted by “Afterplay” opening Saturday, dealing with seeing far too much of the soon-to-be ex this week and the weeks coming up with the holiday shows. Basically, suffocating in the pit of bleakness I have been living in lately. I even came very close to calling the soon-to-be and seeing if he would take me back just because it would be so much easier than this unending stretch of uncertainty in front of me.
But I pushed myself to rehearsal, hoping I would at least be coherent and say something moderately inspiring since both my actors have worked so hard to get to this point.
Then Chairman came in and he always lifts my heart – as I’ve said before, one of my quartet of favorite men.
SIDEBAR: Okay, used to be three but there are now four men with whom I am deeply, madly, crazily in love with for their talent, their hearts and souls, and their ability to make me smile and laugh even at the end of the world. Gee, if only I could put all four of them together, what a man that would make. They touch my life, my work and my soul.
Okay, back to the blog.
So as much as I wanted to be bleak and cold and miserable, seeing Chairman won’t let me. Then Kristy came in and her enthusiasm and passion for this part picked me up a bit more.
As we got into things, I could feel this heaviness and depression push back a bit. Although it was not an easy rehearsal – I sort of dread this point of rehearsal, the nit-picky, stop and start part – I found myself getting more and more immersed in the process. I love nothing more than the back and forth between myself and an actor. Argue with me, disagree with me but you’d better have a point as to why you don’t agree with me. I love to watch how this exchange makes the project richer and the performances grow. As I’ve said before, I love the shorthand between Chairman and I – “on that line”… “you want more”…”yeah, something…” “got it.” And he does exactly what I’ve been thinking I want him to do.
And to watch the moments that grow out of the actors finding and connecting with each other and themselves. Those moments when they discover the secret inside life of the character. Those moments that I, as a director, cannot create. They have to come from the actor’s internal organs.
I found myself laughing out loud at a few of the wonderful moments in this play while Chairman and Kristy discovered their characters. I couldn’t take my eyes off them as they connected viscerally and emotionally. I held my breath over a couple of delicate, tenuous moments that were so pure and so sweet.
By the time we were done and Chairman and Kristy both said goodbye, the darkness in my life had parted a bit and the weight of the world had been reduced to just the weight of a continent. I felt like I had accomplished more in the short time that we were together than I had in the past four days put together.
As I gathered my bag and walked to my car, I came to the realization that I do live to direct. If I couldn’t do this, I wouldn’t live. It’s as simple as that. And it’s worth the sacrifice, no matter what it is, because this is what I was meant to do.
And this is just the beginning of a very long road, which will be fraught with more dark days but hopefully filled with more than its share of joyful days. All I know is that any time I get to do this work, God has blessed me with the most amazing gift that He could.
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Insomnia...
And so starts the week before the show insomnia.
Happens every time. I don’t know why I think each show will be different. I didn’t sleep for almost two weeks before “Lloyd’s Prayer” opened. So I should just build that time into my schedule and accept it.
The problem is this – most people have a voice in their head, I have a committee. And they like to convene at 2 AM usually, asking stupid questions (did you pay the gas bill, what exactly is a balalaika), mostly stuff I can do nothing about at 2 AM. Or, like tonight, they begin to go through the script of the current show line by line, overanalyzing everything, planning, plotting, figuring out exactly how this is going to work. Luckily, I always work with amazing actors and the mind committee is never obsessing over whether the actors will be good.
Then they move on to examining my shortcomings, both as a director and as a person. They pick apart my approach to directing, how it’s not really very good, how I am hindering my actors and not serving the script. They overanalyze everything Paul has said in rehearsal and how that reflects what a terrible director I am. Then they move on to the failure of my marriage, my two year long depression, the way I painted my room, and all of my personality flaws.
And I lay in bed and listen to them until I can’t stand it anymore. Then I get up, surf the web, write something sometimes, anything to not listen to those annoying voices in my head.
Sometimes, I can be quite productive at 2 AM until around 6 AM, when the committee is finally exhausted and disbands for the time being. Like this morning, I will probably finish this up, tackle some of the work that’s piled up on my computer, maybe even build some shelves in my room that I’ve been avoiding. I’ll probably grab the script and go through it, trying to filter out the negative things the committee has planted and try and focus on the productive things that came out of the late night self-examination.
Benadryl has been a godsend these past couple of weeks because it knocks me out. Unfortunately, it leaves me with a hangover that lasts well into the next day and makes it impossible to get anything done before noon. By then, I’m so far behind, I don’t know how to catch up.
So, tonight – or more precisely this morning – I will get up now (2:05 AM), do some transcription work that’s due in the morning, listen to Twyla purr and chirp at me, obsess over the show while working, and hopefully doze off as the sun rises. And then tomorrow night, begin the whole thing all over again.
So if you’re one of the insomnia club, feel free to drop me an early morning email or instant message (if you can figure that out on this site, I can’t), and we can commiserate on the sunrise.
Sweet dreams.
Happens every time. I don’t know why I think each show will be different. I didn’t sleep for almost two weeks before “Lloyd’s Prayer” opened. So I should just build that time into my schedule and accept it.
The problem is this – most people have a voice in their head, I have a committee. And they like to convene at 2 AM usually, asking stupid questions (did you pay the gas bill, what exactly is a balalaika), mostly stuff I can do nothing about at 2 AM. Or, like tonight, they begin to go through the script of the current show line by line, overanalyzing everything, planning, plotting, figuring out exactly how this is going to work. Luckily, I always work with amazing actors and the mind committee is never obsessing over whether the actors will be good.
Then they move on to examining my shortcomings, both as a director and as a person. They pick apart my approach to directing, how it’s not really very good, how I am hindering my actors and not serving the script. They overanalyze everything Paul has said in rehearsal and how that reflects what a terrible director I am. Then they move on to the failure of my marriage, my two year long depression, the way I painted my room, and all of my personality flaws.
And I lay in bed and listen to them until I can’t stand it anymore. Then I get up, surf the web, write something sometimes, anything to not listen to those annoying voices in my head.
Sometimes, I can be quite productive at 2 AM until around 6 AM, when the committee is finally exhausted and disbands for the time being. Like this morning, I will probably finish this up, tackle some of the work that’s piled up on my computer, maybe even build some shelves in my room that I’ve been avoiding. I’ll probably grab the script and go through it, trying to filter out the negative things the committee has planted and try and focus on the productive things that came out of the late night self-examination.
Benadryl has been a godsend these past couple of weeks because it knocks me out. Unfortunately, it leaves me with a hangover that lasts well into the next day and makes it impossible to get anything done before noon. By then, I’m so far behind, I don’t know how to catch up.
So, tonight – or more precisely this morning – I will get up now (2:05 AM), do some transcription work that’s due in the morning, listen to Twyla purr and chirp at me, obsess over the show while working, and hopefully doze off as the sun rises. And then tomorrow night, begin the whole thing all over again.
So if you’re one of the insomnia club, feel free to drop me an early morning email or instant message (if you can figure that out on this site, I can’t), and we can commiserate on the sunrise.
Sweet dreams.
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Content... today
Today, I love my life.
I got to rehearse with Chairman, always a joy. On a play I am quickly falling in love with. I’m enjoying discovering Kristy’s talent and seeing her work off of Chairman is such a pleasure.
I’m hanging out on Myspace and seeing several of my favorite people’s faces grinning back at me. It’s a silly little delight to see that little “online now” symbol, which makes me feel like somehow we’re all in the same room together, hanging out, even though we can’t see each other. It makes me feel a little less alone when I’m hanging out in my room.
I came home to my new friend and roommate, Tiffany, and her mom and her two funky, funny, always entertaining Chihuahuas, Sid and Bijoux. To a clean apartment that I didn’t have to clean. That’s a gift in itself.
My cat, Twyla, is sitting at the foot of my bed, quiet and content for a change. Purring. Nothing better than that.
A friend sent me some amazing pictures of Ground Zero and the memorials that went on there this weekend. Makes me incredibly grateful for the people in my life and that, with everything that has gone on in this crazy, weird, out of control world lately, that my friends are within arm’s reach – or internet reach – safe, warm, grouchy, pissed off and vocal.
Most of all, for the first time in a long time, I see my future. I see where I want to be and what I want to be. I’m working on being a better person and learning to not be so intense about things. I’m learning to let go – of people, of things beyond my control, of anger, of my old life.
For the first time in a long time, as I get ready to turn off the light and climb into my new Ikea bed in my bluish denim-y room, I’m almost content with where I am today.
It may not be that way tomorrow but I’ll take this for right now.
I got to rehearse with Chairman, always a joy. On a play I am quickly falling in love with. I’m enjoying discovering Kristy’s talent and seeing her work off of Chairman is such a pleasure.
I’m hanging out on Myspace and seeing several of my favorite people’s faces grinning back at me. It’s a silly little delight to see that little “online now” symbol, which makes me feel like somehow we’re all in the same room together, hanging out, even though we can’t see each other. It makes me feel a little less alone when I’m hanging out in my room.
I came home to my new friend and roommate, Tiffany, and her mom and her two funky, funny, always entertaining Chihuahuas, Sid and Bijoux. To a clean apartment that I didn’t have to clean. That’s a gift in itself.
My cat, Twyla, is sitting at the foot of my bed, quiet and content for a change. Purring. Nothing better than that.
A friend sent me some amazing pictures of Ground Zero and the memorials that went on there this weekend. Makes me incredibly grateful for the people in my life and that, with everything that has gone on in this crazy, weird, out of control world lately, that my friends are within arm’s reach – or internet reach – safe, warm, grouchy, pissed off and vocal.
Most of all, for the first time in a long time, I see my future. I see where I want to be and what I want to be. I’m working on being a better person and learning to not be so intense about things. I’m learning to let go – of people, of things beyond my control, of anger, of my old life.
For the first time in a long time, as I get ready to turn off the light and climb into my new Ikea bed in my bluish denim-y room, I’m almost content with where I am today.
It may not be that way tomorrow but I’ll take this for right now.
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
What was I doing at 24?
Out partying with my new young hot roommate tonight (that’s become part of her name – young hot roommate). It was a blast, meeting new people, expanding my circle, as it were.
Some of them were fun. Some of them were too cool for the room. Some of them were unremarkable.
But it made me think, as everything does nowadays, about a whole bunch of things.
First of all, where was I when I was 24? It was 1986 (yes, really, 1986). I was married to an alcoholic drug abuser who also liked to beat the emotional shit out of me on a regular basis. Gee, I wonder where my self-esteem issues come from. I was just thinking about going back to school and becoming a teacher. My high school drama coach, Norm Oman, had begun working with mentally handicapped kids and was doing great things with them using drama and acting techniques. He invited me to join him in this endeavor but I would have to work on getting my teaching degree. I was thrilled. My ex, not so much. We had a beautiful apartment, were thinking about having kids, I felt like my whole life was coming together. I could see where I was going and where I wanted to be. And he was going to be there with me, following his own dreams, succeeding, because we were together.
One year later, I was alone, divorcing, shattered. He ran off with a 16-year-old cheaplittleslutbitch. He was 24. I was 25. Suddenly, a cavernous new life in front of me. So, of course, I packed up my VW Rabbit and moved to LA. What else is a girl from Canada supposed to do?
My hot young roommate reminds me of a me a bit (not the young, hot part). She’s feisty, funny, fearless. I’d like to think that’s what I was like at 24.
The second thing this evening made me think about was dating. Augh. Do I really want to go through all that again? I never dated a lot. I’ve seriously dated seven guys (yes, seven), slept with three of them, married two of them. Wow. Glad I didn’t sleep with the others.
But sitting there tonight, chatting up a couple of very nice guys, discussing where I should get my tattoo and whether or not to get a belly button ring (consensus was no), I suddenly thought, what if one of them asks for my phone number? Am I there yet? It’s only been a couple of months. Will I ever be there? Am I done with my soon-to-be ex yet enough to move on to just dinner with someone else?
Then there was the inevitable thought of having someone new see me naked and that put a stop to everything right there. I am in no way prepared for that. Not that dating means nudity but you never know. I’m too self-conscious right now about the extra weight, the extra age, the extra wear and tear a body has at 43. And the whole perimenopausal thing makes me crazy thinking about sleeping with somebody new.
And do I really want to break in someone new? It’d be so much easier to just date someone I know because at least we don’t have to deal with all the bullshit and small talk crap that people seem to want to do. Maybe I could start with, “okay, I’m not into small talk, tell me your problems, I’ll tell you mine, and let’s see if our neuroses don’t make us run screaming from the room.” My friend, Kurt, has a great expression. He doesn’t mind someone with baggage if they just tell him how big of a cart to bring. I’m afraid that right now, a semi would be needed.
Maybe in six months, I’ll be able to entertain the idea of entertaining someone. Maybe by then, I’ll be back to doing yoga a couple of times a week and maybe be approaching a flatter stomach and leaner thighs that I wouldn’t be embarrassed with someone new getting a peek at. Maybe by then I’ll have my own place and be more settled with the person that I am, instead of feeling like this imposter blundering my way through my life. Maybe by then I’ll want to have sex bad enough to not worry about having someone see my flaws.
Maybe that’s the whole problem – I’m not sure I’m ready to let someone new see all my flaws. Hmm, thoughts for another night.
Some of them were fun. Some of them were too cool for the room. Some of them were unremarkable.
But it made me think, as everything does nowadays, about a whole bunch of things.
First of all, where was I when I was 24? It was 1986 (yes, really, 1986). I was married to an alcoholic drug abuser who also liked to beat the emotional shit out of me on a regular basis. Gee, I wonder where my self-esteem issues come from. I was just thinking about going back to school and becoming a teacher. My high school drama coach, Norm Oman, had begun working with mentally handicapped kids and was doing great things with them using drama and acting techniques. He invited me to join him in this endeavor but I would have to work on getting my teaching degree. I was thrilled. My ex, not so much. We had a beautiful apartment, were thinking about having kids, I felt like my whole life was coming together. I could see where I was going and where I wanted to be. And he was going to be there with me, following his own dreams, succeeding, because we were together.
One year later, I was alone, divorcing, shattered. He ran off with a 16-year-old cheaplittleslutbitch. He was 24. I was 25. Suddenly, a cavernous new life in front of me. So, of course, I packed up my VW Rabbit and moved to LA. What else is a girl from Canada supposed to do?
My hot young roommate reminds me of a me a bit (not the young, hot part). She’s feisty, funny, fearless. I’d like to think that’s what I was like at 24.
The second thing this evening made me think about was dating. Augh. Do I really want to go through all that again? I never dated a lot. I’ve seriously dated seven guys (yes, seven), slept with three of them, married two of them. Wow. Glad I didn’t sleep with the others.
But sitting there tonight, chatting up a couple of very nice guys, discussing where I should get my tattoo and whether or not to get a belly button ring (consensus was no), I suddenly thought, what if one of them asks for my phone number? Am I there yet? It’s only been a couple of months. Will I ever be there? Am I done with my soon-to-be ex yet enough to move on to just dinner with someone else?
Then there was the inevitable thought of having someone new see me naked and that put a stop to everything right there. I am in no way prepared for that. Not that dating means nudity but you never know. I’m too self-conscious right now about the extra weight, the extra age, the extra wear and tear a body has at 43. And the whole perimenopausal thing makes me crazy thinking about sleeping with somebody new.
And do I really want to break in someone new? It’d be so much easier to just date someone I know because at least we don’t have to deal with all the bullshit and small talk crap that people seem to want to do. Maybe I could start with, “okay, I’m not into small talk, tell me your problems, I’ll tell you mine, and let’s see if our neuroses don’t make us run screaming from the room.” My friend, Kurt, has a great expression. He doesn’t mind someone with baggage if they just tell him how big of a cart to bring. I’m afraid that right now, a semi would be needed.
Maybe in six months, I’ll be able to entertain the idea of entertaining someone. Maybe by then, I’ll be back to doing yoga a couple of times a week and maybe be approaching a flatter stomach and leaner thighs that I wouldn’t be embarrassed with someone new getting a peek at. Maybe by then I’ll have my own place and be more settled with the person that I am, instead of feeling like this imposter blundering my way through my life. Maybe by then I’ll want to have sex bad enough to not worry about having someone see my flaws.
Maybe that’s the whole problem – I’m not sure I’m ready to let someone new see all my flaws. Hmm, thoughts for another night.
Monday, September 05, 2005
What I did for love...
Kind of ruminating tonight on friends found and friends lost, the joys and pitfalls of the recent past.
The “Saucy Jack” party (a show that we just closed) made me grateful for all I have gotten from the Ark. So much talent in that company that it humbles me to even be in the same room with some of that talent. It makes me grateful that I get to play with that talent often…especially several of my favorites. It’s so nice to have a shorthand with actors and work with actors who read your mind. And the results are astonishing to watch. Reading the press release for my new show, “Afterplay,” featuring Chairman Barnes (already often mentioned as one of my favorite human beings) and Kristy Munden, and seeing “Lloyd’s Prayer,” my previous show, written up as “critically acclaimed,” which it was – LA Weekly Pick of the Week and great Backstage West write-up – made me realize what an amazing thing this company is in my life. It allows me to do the best work of my life as a director.
But that can’t help but lead me to what I’ve given up to pursue that. My personal life recently has undergone great sacrifice and I find myself facing a very uncertain future, personally and professionally. I’d like to think that I have the talent to become a Barry Levinson type of director who gets to do one film for creative satisfaction and then maybe one studio film to pay for the personal one. Write my own ticket would be the ideal. But that’s not very realistic in this town. If I’m lucky, I’ll get to direct commercials and music videos to pay my rent and maybe shoot the odd digital feature on a dime to satisfy the muse. And for that, I’ve given up 14 years of marriage and everything that my life had become.
I’d like to fall in love again. I’d like to have that stupid, giddy feeling when that person walks into the room. Feminist that I am, I still want some of the Cinderella stuff. Not all of it, but some of it is really appealing. The sweeping-off-the-feet thing is nice.
I have incredible friends who have been at my side through all of this. Great friends who make me feel like I’m the most amazing person in the world and that my talent is limitless – okay, maybe not limitless but at least something they want to partake of as often as I will let them. To get to work with your friends is the greatest thing and that’s the other joy of the Ark.
Of course, close-knit families have their dysfunctions and I’ve gone through those at the Ark as well. People who have come and gone, leaving their mark (good and bad) behind. Struggles within the company to try to do my best while sometimes not feeling appreciated. All the joy and pain that goes into the creative process.
But is that creative process worth the sacrifice? That’s what I find myself contemplating often lately. I can’t wait to get to rehearsal most days because it’s the greatest joy of my life. Seriously, even bad rehearsals are a pleasure because they reveal things and open up instincts that otherwise get ignored. I love show nights, watching the audience file in, listening to their reactions. With “Lloyd’s,” I loved watching the audience be moved to tears, as I was every single performance. I was delighted when I’d see people skulk out of the theater, trying to hide their tear-stained faces. It meant I did my job. It’s so fulfilling watching the process grow and become its own entity.
But I have given up everything for it. And I don’t know what that is going to mean. I hope I don’t regret it a year from now or 20 years from now. I try not to regret anything as I believe that each experience informs the next and without this terrible pain and loss, the next phase won’t be what it’s supposed to be – good or bad.
The past few months have been hard and I am sorry that I’ve lost some friends along the way. The ones who I thought would be there for me that weren’t. The ones who I thought I could count on that I found out I couldn’t. They’re still friends but, in my heart, it’s colored a little differently now. A few friendships have been lost completely and those I will miss the most. Unfortunately, those are out of my hands and I have to just enjoy the memories of times gone past, like small treasures to be taken out and looked at and then put away carefully so as not to lose them. I will miss those people terribly as some of them have been around almost as long as I’ve been in LA.
Don’t know what’s got me on this reflective journey tonight but thought I’d put it up anyway. Read it, don’t read it (of course, if you’re this far down, you’ve already read it). Maybe reflect a little on your own life tonight and what you want, what you’ve lost, what you’ve sacrificed, and where you’re going. Hug the one you love and be very, very grateful you have someone to hug/love. Hug someone you think needs it – cuz we all do. And keep those lost treasures close to your heart, safe and warm.
The “Saucy Jack” party (a show that we just closed) made me grateful for all I have gotten from the Ark. So much talent in that company that it humbles me to even be in the same room with some of that talent. It makes me grateful that I get to play with that talent often…especially several of my favorites. It’s so nice to have a shorthand with actors and work with actors who read your mind. And the results are astonishing to watch. Reading the press release for my new show, “Afterplay,” featuring Chairman Barnes (already often mentioned as one of my favorite human beings) and Kristy Munden, and seeing “Lloyd’s Prayer,” my previous show, written up as “critically acclaimed,” which it was – LA Weekly Pick of the Week and great Backstage West write-up – made me realize what an amazing thing this company is in my life. It allows me to do the best work of my life as a director.
But that can’t help but lead me to what I’ve given up to pursue that. My personal life recently has undergone great sacrifice and I find myself facing a very uncertain future, personally and professionally. I’d like to think that I have the talent to become a Barry Levinson type of director who gets to do one film for creative satisfaction and then maybe one studio film to pay for the personal one. Write my own ticket would be the ideal. But that’s not very realistic in this town. If I’m lucky, I’ll get to direct commercials and music videos to pay my rent and maybe shoot the odd digital feature on a dime to satisfy the muse. And for that, I’ve given up 14 years of marriage and everything that my life had become.
I’d like to fall in love again. I’d like to have that stupid, giddy feeling when that person walks into the room. Feminist that I am, I still want some of the Cinderella stuff. Not all of it, but some of it is really appealing. The sweeping-off-the-feet thing is nice.
I have incredible friends who have been at my side through all of this. Great friends who make me feel like I’m the most amazing person in the world and that my talent is limitless – okay, maybe not limitless but at least something they want to partake of as often as I will let them. To get to work with your friends is the greatest thing and that’s the other joy of the Ark.
Of course, close-knit families have their dysfunctions and I’ve gone through those at the Ark as well. People who have come and gone, leaving their mark (good and bad) behind. Struggles within the company to try to do my best while sometimes not feeling appreciated. All the joy and pain that goes into the creative process.
But is that creative process worth the sacrifice? That’s what I find myself contemplating often lately. I can’t wait to get to rehearsal most days because it’s the greatest joy of my life. Seriously, even bad rehearsals are a pleasure because they reveal things and open up instincts that otherwise get ignored. I love show nights, watching the audience file in, listening to their reactions. With “Lloyd’s,” I loved watching the audience be moved to tears, as I was every single performance. I was delighted when I’d see people skulk out of the theater, trying to hide their tear-stained faces. It meant I did my job. It’s so fulfilling watching the process grow and become its own entity.
But I have given up everything for it. And I don’t know what that is going to mean. I hope I don’t regret it a year from now or 20 years from now. I try not to regret anything as I believe that each experience informs the next and without this terrible pain and loss, the next phase won’t be what it’s supposed to be – good or bad.
The past few months have been hard and I am sorry that I’ve lost some friends along the way. The ones who I thought would be there for me that weren’t. The ones who I thought I could count on that I found out I couldn’t. They’re still friends but, in my heart, it’s colored a little differently now. A few friendships have been lost completely and those I will miss the most. Unfortunately, those are out of my hands and I have to just enjoy the memories of times gone past, like small treasures to be taken out and looked at and then put away carefully so as not to lose them. I will miss those people terribly as some of them have been around almost as long as I’ve been in LA.
Don’t know what’s got me on this reflective journey tonight but thought I’d put it up anyway. Read it, don’t read it (of course, if you’re this far down, you’ve already read it). Maybe reflect a little on your own life tonight and what you want, what you’ve lost, what you’ve sacrificed, and where you’re going. Hug the one you love and be very, very grateful you have someone to hug/love. Hug someone you think needs it – cuz we all do. And keep those lost treasures close to your heart, safe and warm.
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