Ordinary Days

I think it's close enough to opening to write about how  excited I am for the upcoming Texas premiere of Ordinary Days from Penfold Theatre, which runs from March 20th-April 6th at The Off-Center.  Michael McKelvey is directing the four person cast including Matthew Redden, Haley Smith, Sarah Marie Curry, and me, with Dustin Struhall in charge of Music Direction.  It's an honor to be get the chance to worth with these actors, and I couldn't be more pleased by the character I get to play.  He's a quirky, idealistic, slightly naïve, aspiring artist by the name of Warren.  When I first heard the soundtrack I just fell in love with him, and felt like I could do him some justice without having to stray too far from the essence of who I am.  

Bret Easton Ellis would probably see the show and deem Warren part of the archetype which is the "gay magical elf" that he rages against in his infamous essay.  Personally I disagree.  And personally I think that Bret is a bit of a douche (who but a douche would spell Brett "Bret") and I say that as much as I hate using that word as a pejorative.  To my mind his article is full of self-loathing, and anger toward any gay who is less than a man loving lumberjack.  Sorry, but I like sparkles, I like old Hollywood, I use words like "puddin'" as terms of endearment, and I have been heard to sing in the office.  I have a lot of zeal.  That doesn't make me less than a person, it's just who I am.  Should I be someone else because Brett, sorry, Bret, thinks this conforms to a safe non-threatening version of gay?  I'm not going to limit myself in anyway.  

For years I hid that side of me, waited to speak until I learned what I thought the people around me wanted and expected from me, and then I played that role.  Once I felt safe in thinking that they might want who I was, I slowly let it out.  Dropped the mask.  But now?  I'm not going to wear it.  Does that mean I've picked up a different mask which skews to other extreme?  Maybe a bit, but that's more who I am.  And to be fair, the butch me was never   that butch, nor that convincing.  Neither is the flamboyant part of me all pink and princesses, although there is definitely an enjoyment of pink and princesses.  Always has been, and I ain't gonna deny it...

But all of that has gone a little off the topic of Ordinary Days.  Here's a bit from the press release:

Taxi cabs and the secret of happiness. From one of musical theatre's most exciting new composers comes Ordinary Days in its Texas premiere. A refreshingly honest and funny chamber musical about four young New Yorkers whose lives intersect as they search for fulfillment, happiness, love and taxis. Through a score of vibrant and memorable songs, their experiences ring startlingly true to life. Ordinary Days is a story for anyone who's ever struggled to appreciate the simple things in a complex world.

If you've never seen me perform, I hope you'll come and see this as I think the material's pretty great, and the cast truly talented.  And I'm really pleased to get to sing as much as I do in the show, and to sing with my own voice rather than the character voices I ocassionally have to employ.  If you HAVE seen me perform, I hope you'll still come and see this.  And if you have seen me perform and HATE my performances, well then...come to see everyone else, and to support Penfold Theatre.

More Inspirational Ideas



A couple of weeks ago I was at a party and a friend of mine recommended the site 750words.com, a site with a concept based on Julia Cameron's "Morning Pages". 

For those of you not familiar, Morning Pages are three pages written upon first waking.  Ideally you still have one foot in dream land, and your subconcience is bubbling up to the surface as you quickly pour out all your unedited thoughts and fears, resentments and dreams to release all of your angst and "to do's" before going on to the business of living with a clean slate. 

This site takes that concept and bends it a bit for the computer addict.  750 words.  Approximately three pages.  Written whenever you want, as long as it's before midnight of the same day.  And when I heard about the site, and the awards you can get for certain achievements, I was intrigued.  And once I started I couldn't stop.  Soon I had a ten day streak of writing and had a sticker with a cheetah on it, one with a hamster, and I was being labeled "FLAMINGO"!  I couldn't allow myself to go back to day-1.  Didn't want to lose my status as a 'flamingo" and go back to being an egg. And yet...

There's a lot to say about writing in long hand.  There's a mind-body connection.  It takes just long enough for one to process there thoughts and it goes fast enough to be able to ignore the inner-critic for awhile.  Another important aspect of these pages is that they are private.  No one will see them.  They are just for you.  You aren't writing for an audience, or to be artful, but to practice ignoring the critic, and to practice the art of unvarnished truth telling.

And, it takes a surprisingly large amount of psychic energy to write this pages.  Because it's painful.  Even if I'm able to ignore the judgement that leaps out long enough to put finger to keys, it still whispers those little poisonous words.  It still hurts.  And once I'm done doing those pages, I, personally am not energized to write more.  The process eases the itch to write, and drains the energy I have to "press on" creatively speaking.  So I'm beginning to wonder, do I want to put energy on these pages?  if that means I'm not motivated afterwards to work on other projects?

There are options of course...

1.   Go back to the original way.  Three pages, long hand, first thing in the morning before getting out of bed.  That way they're done.  Immediately.  And you don't spend them going over the day behind you, but on deeper things that come out in dreams and that you still have a bit of a grasp on before they flit away.

2.  Type them, but do them in the morning.

3.  Type them, but only after I've achieved one creative goal.  A goal that matters.

Today, I chose option 3.  Tomorrow?  We'll see.  But right now it feels like it would be as painful to stop writing my 750 words as it is to write them.

Certainly if you are not a writer, I think this is kind of a moot point.  There are certainly benefits to this process for anyone.  You'll be surprised how therapeutic they are.  Feel free to let me know what you think of the site, how your words are coming along, and other thoughts you may have...

Creative Inspirations

For anyone with creative resolutions for the new year, I highly recommend The War of Art by Steven Pressfield.  I've had my copy for several years, thumbed through it a bunch, and always find in it the encouragement to keep pressing on.  The chapters are VERY short (some only a page) but they're so dense with ideas that I may recommend taking one or two chapters at a time to ruminate on. 

One of the major principles  espoused in the book is the idea of "going pro", which involves showing up every day, no matter what.  It's a bit like Julia Cameron's concept of sitting down to write whether inspiration has hit you or not, because once you plop your little reluctant butt down at the desk, you'll be surprised how often "inspiration" arrives.  .

The challenge with a book like this is to keep up with it.  To read it daily.  It's so tempting to pick it up when I'm feeling down, read a bit, get charged up, and having slapped a Band-Aid on my despondency, go to sleep and forget about it for a month or so.  I'd love to be more diligent about it in the new year, so if anyone needs a "book buddy" let me know. 



This Is A Little Fuckin' Weird (Right?)

Ok.  So , as you may know, it's the 75th anniversary of the release of The Wizard of Oz, and as a result there is a lot of new merchandise.  Some of it beautiful, some of it kind of cheesy, and some of it just this side of creepy.  The piece coming out by Enesco in August is a lot of both.  For example, below you can see the cute part...

 

 

Admittedly, it's a little bit Gramma's house.  A little bit, the Pipe World store that used to be at the mall where you can by little figurines of animals going into the ark, or carousel horses, or dragon sculptures wrapped around little glass jewels... but it's cute.  And then there's the rest of it...

 



 

 

What the fuck?  Right?  It's a little bit Toddlers and Tiaras.  A little bit, strippity-strip-strip.  A lil leggy.  Right???  I'm fucking creeped out.  She's not just wearing a shorter dress, which would be one thing, she's wearing a maxi and lifting it up to show you her "shoes".  I don't know.  Maybe, it's just me, but this had to give someone in the design phase pause.  You'd think.



Hand Candy

 

 

 

Ok.  Now, I'm usually a firm believer in "respecting the season".  Christmas decorations come out no sooner that the day after Thanksgiving.  Christmas music doesn't get full rotation in my car and home until December 1st, and Christmas decorations come down after on New Year's Day, or up to two days after.  And Christmas candles, scents, etc...all that shit goes away.  RESPECT THE SEASONS!!!  It's a hold over from my friend Berv, who has been drilling this idea into my head regarding all seasons and all aspects of culture.  Well...I've failed in at least two aspects this year.

1.  The Christmas decorations didn't come down until last night.  Mark and I had been talking about doing them, planned days to take them down, and then something had come up.  Twice. And the way our schedules are lately, I finally came to the realization that our schedules were not likely to synch up a third time any time soon, so I did them myself as I watched the fifth season of "Dexter".  And afterwards, I have to say.  It all seemed to sparse and bare.  Lacking charm and joy.  When the decorations first came up I feared they might be a bit too garish, but then I got used to them, attached to them.  They became "normal".  To lose them left a gap.  And yet, my mind is already making the adjustment. 

2.  I bought a soap a few days before Christmas, and it's staying in use until I've used it all up, because it smells so fucking good I just can't resist it.  And it's not a smell like Peppermint, or Pine Trees, no.  It's "spiced gum drop", and it's so decadent and sweetly spicy, spicily sweet, that I can't put it away.  At least not until the end of January.  My point being, you should get some too.  It's on sale at Target and smells luscious.  And on the counter it's not TOO Christmassy.  It's sturdy, classic, slightly medicinal looking, like something the bearded villain in Pete's Dragon would have sold from his cart.  In short, I love it.  Even if it isn't in season anymore, and it makes me smell my hands which could creep people out in a major way.  It's well worth it.

Happy New Year!!

It was past midnight last night and a couple of my dearest friends and I were wandering home from a nearby gathering, during the first moments of the new year.  The stars shone brightly upon us, a little alcohol warmed our chests, and the future seemed bright.  And yet...the New Year celebrations were not yet complete.  I needed a salve.  I needed a balm.  I needed something that would reassure me that life has meaning, it will go on, even though time passes.  I needed something to tell me that some of the qualities I tried so hard to hide were actually gifts that would bless the world if I only had the courage to let my little freak flag fly.  I needed something bizarre, and oddly cute to set the tone for the new year, and to recharge my batteries as I set forth on a year of creativity.  In short, I needed "Rudolph's Shiny New Year" and that little bundle of adorability... "Happy". 

Come on lil' friend, don't hide your light under a bushel...

 

Let it Shine...

 



And the whole world will love you for the cute lil' dumpling you are...

 

And characters both real and imagined will come to idolize you and shake your hand!

 

 

In case you don't have friends as kind and indulgent as mine, here's the full show, to help you get started on making your new year truly special.

 

 

Judge A Book By It's Cover

In a significant way, I choose alcohol the way I, as a child, I chose the football team I was going to be a fan of.  The picture.  I know there's a very famous platitude which warns against judging a book by its cover, but truthfully, the cover is how a product, team or book chooses to represent itself.  It is carefully chosen to clue you in to what the product promises to bring you.  And a lot of times it's as good a reason to judge as any, depending on your reasons, of course.

In truth, the Bengal Tigers, which I chose as my team, and for awhile halfheartedly followed (which mostly means I drank Diet Coke from a Bengal Tigers mug) was a terrible team.  So if I'd cared about them winning, I wouldn't have picked them.  But I didn't care.  I just needed a reason to care for them, and the striped helmet was a good enough reason for me at the time.

And today, when I'm wandering through a liquor store looking for a promising new potion, I assume if it costs a certain amount it will probably taste just fine, and if I'm unsure I can just ask someone who works there about it.  This is the reason that for the past few years my drink of choice has been Sailor Jerry. 

 

This cute lil' lady...or one very much like her, adorns every bottle of Sailor Jerry rum.  So for me, I imagine this rum was made by a wisened sailor from the 40's and that drinking it is a bit like time travelling.  I get in my time machine, got back to a sea shanty in 1947 where Jerry is making his rum so that I may hear a bit of his sage advice, and drink rum made by a man who knows what rum should taste like.  Plus, in my imagination I have a cute little drinking companion to guide me as I drink my way through the bottle. 

 

Of course, this choice has caused me grief amongst my friends, who think the little bottles I like to drink from are kind of creepy, but I don't care!  Or at least, I didn't...but recently I got bored.  I hate to say I got tired of my pin-up gal pals, but I needed something new.  So I wandered the liquor stores until I found this...

 

 

The KRAKEN!!!!  The beast of Greek myth that is called by Poseidon to wreak havoc upon the mortals when they misbehave.  Yes.  I like it.  It allows me to imagine that I am releasing the Kraken, any time I open the bottle and pour a bit of it into a glass.  And that will do just fine.

 

                                        

 

 



Christmas Crush

It's funny how you can see a movie several times and not notice someone, and then, like a bolt from the proverbial blue you get hit with a shock of sexy.  This particular bolt is named John Brascia, and he was a dancer in the fifties, most prominently in White Christmas.  Try to tear yourself away from Vera Ellen's skinny little dancing thighs long enough to take in those teeth, those biceps, and those confident and masculine moves...

A Garland for Christmas

 

 

Meet Me in St. Louis is screening at the Paramount tonight and in honor of that showing, here's a little Judy Garland Christmas joy.  If you're in the Austin area, I highly recommend trotting out to the historic Paramount Theatre to see the film at 7PM.  It will be followed by White Christmas at 9:25.  Even if you've seen these classics on your television, there is nothing like the communal experience of enjoying them with a big crowd of people in the dark.  The big screen is magical, and it's as close to time travel as you are likely to get.  In case you don't get out tonight, here's a clip of Judy singing the Christmas favorite she made famous...

 

                           

One of Many Reasons I Love Audra McDonald

This performance of one of my favorite Sondheim songs, "What Can You Lose", paired up with the equally moving "Not A Day Goes By".  If anyone knows of a recording of this, please let me know.  I got to be in the audience for this performance, and I've been searching for an audio only version of it, but as far as I know, it doesn't exist.

Random Musings

Working full time in addition to performing, really makes a person appreciate Sunday.  The laziness of it, especially on a day when a faulty car battery gave me the guilt free excuse to miss church and sleep in.  It's a day for lolling, for sipping coffee with peppermint creamer, and doing laundry.  For texting the cute boy I met on-line, who's only defect at this point is his wearing of a World of Warcraft t-shirt.  Although, this could be a serious flaw...

Last night we closed Arsenic and Old Lace, and I now have my nights free until mid-January, which will be a relief.  It seems like my life knows only two modes, feast or famine.  Too much, or too little, and frankly, I'm usually ok with this.  I've gotten used to it.  I've never been a middle of the road person.  If I'm in love, it's full force, and when I'm out, it's equally as easy to drop someone as it is to hold them close.  Maybe not the most effective way to live, but shit, we've all got flaws.  Mine are...

1.  An intrepid distaste for passive aggressive people
2. An obsession with weight, and my struggle to keep it down.
3. A tendency to overshare (hence this blog)
4. the ability to underestimate myself
5. a neurotic tendency toward perfection which can make Thanksgiving dinners with me a masterclass in being a control freak.  Thank god for my family who loves and accepts this about me, and my cousin who passes the vodka.
6.  Neediness.  I have a need for affection, peeps, I freely admit it.

But this is not a post in which I concentrate on my flaws, which also make me unique and can be a great tool for any actor or artist.  Sharing these things can help create intimacy, let other people know that they are not alone, and be a form of therapy.  Luckily, I've always considered "dignity" an over adored virtue.
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Last night was also "strike", of the show.  That night at the end of the run in which some of the smaller companies ask the actors to participate in the tearing down and storing of the set and props pieces.  Although, why someone would want to put a drill in my hand, I will never know.  It was fun, and festive, although I resolve to be more productive and less chatty next strike.  You will find me in the dressing room polishing and dusting, moving costumes and as far away from wood work and flats as I can possibly get, although I'll happily paint the floor black.  That I can do.
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In case you are wondering... Frozen???  My least favorite Disney animated film so far.  Don't feel bad, enough other people are singing its praises that I feel I can be truthful about it here.  Here are my thoughts-

• As one of the critics said "you can see the wires".  I prefer my stories to tell the stories without having some "girl power, making up for the passive princesses of Disney's past" message which is oddly contrasted by the anorexic exaggerated features.  In other words, they are saying "be who you truly are inside.  As long as the outside is pretty, everyone will accept you." Go girl.

• The original story on which the cartoon is based is pretty flawless on its own and doesn't need any tinkering to make it better.  It's got a strong female protagonist, who is not a princess, and not an adult.  Her happy ending is not bound up in story book romance, but in true friendship.  For once, the person in peril is not a girl, but a boy, who is becoming embittered to life's beauty.  In short, it's very original and unique, which is probably why Disney had troubles with it and ended up falling back on the conventional, because in spite of some superficial trappings, this is a very conventional story.

• The songs are unnecessary.  With one notable exception, they are not particularly memorable.  Even the power ballad that the Snow Queen sings is more reminiscent of Katy Perry than of Ashman and Menken, and it feels like a combo of "fireworks" and "defying gravity".  I am, however, grateful for the tag "the cold never bothered me anyway", which is as calculatingly sassy as Bruno Tonioli after two skinny girl margaritas, and which I delight in singing at random moments.

• For me, the one saving grace was the very character I didn't expect to love.  The little enchanted snowman is awesome.  He has so much heart, is so tender and childlike, and he sees the goodness in every situation.  His "I want" song is pretty much perfection.  Hilarious and poignant, with many laugh out-loud moments packed into about two minutes.  I may go back to see it just for him.  Congrats to Josh Gad on a really lovely performance. 

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One of the movies I truly loved this year, was Philomena.  Judi Dench is wonderful, it's sincere, and heart wrenching, and I saw it with my mom, which I highly recommend doing.  Although, there may not be enough of my mom to go around, as she'll probably get bored after seeing it six or seven times.  Probably, you should bring your own mom.