On the Streets of New York

New York City contains some of the most unique and memorable sites in America, and I'm not merely talking about designated "sites".  On my way into Mid-town every weekday morning, I encounter people shouting tirades to fellow subway goers, one man bands, and folks wearing brilliant and unusual fashions worn for no reason at all.  I walk by sculpted works of art that I appreciated on the first encounter, but that have since become just part of the background.  I am the first to admit what a shame that is.  These are the things that make New York "New York", and to truly appreciate the city, one has to pay attention to these details.

One such detail that I had noticed in passing, but hadn't really paid all that much attention to as I passed it each day on my way to lunch, was this...

a pair of liquid nitrogen tanks just sitting in the street with yellow tape around them.  I'd passed them several times, and never really paused to wonder what they were doing there, or if they posed any kind of threat or hazard. And then one day I stopped.  And took notice (and a couple of photos)

What do they do?  Well there's a hose coming from the canisters that goes down a grate or manhole and the liquid nitrogen changes to a gas and expands, keeping copper wiring dry underneath the streets.  It belongs to Verizon and helps to keep their phone service and internet running smoothly.  In spite of the fact that there is a protective covering over the wires, there is some damage due to the elements and steam from heating, so the nitrogen assists.  

As for the tanks, they've apparently never leaked or exploded (and there are many of them around the city) in spite of occasionally being tipped over by cars hitting them.  

I find it kind of funny that they can't fund a better way of doing this, but I'm hardly a scientist, and this is just another interesting feature that is part of living in New York City.  

On the Way to the Fountain

A couple of weeks ago I went to Central Park to see Bethesda Fountain, and the statue of the angel so prominently featured in Angels in America. I've been re-reading the piece in honor of its 25th anniversary, and it felt important to see it in person.  To really experience it.  What I didn't expect was all the joy I would encounter on the way there...

Stultifying

Stultifying.  The summer heat in New York City is stultifying.  It beats on you from above in the walk to and from work, it bounces off from the concrete towers all around, it radiates in stinking waves from the grates in the street.  It leaves you, after ten minutes of walking with strange and oddly placed splotches on your withered business shirt, and you smell as if you just mowed the lawn without the fresh grass aroma to cut the sweat.  And humid!!!  Like a floating soup.

About a month ago I gave up and put the window unit in.  There was really no reason not to other than my "Old Man Johnson" attitude of thinking I could beat the heat, be stronger willed than a fucking force of nature.  And if I could?  Where's the real victory?  The fifty dollars a month it saves me in electrical bills?  I'll pay.  You win heat.  You fucking win.

The good thing about the heat is that when it's this hot, nothing refreshes like a nice Mint Julep, which makes me imagine myself as a gracious lady in a floppy yellow sun hat as I sit on the porch and fan myself idly.  Or lemonade!  Or Strawberry Iced Tea.  Cold drinks, while not worth the trade off that is this... STULTIFYING heat (did I mention it is stultifying?) are a nice diversion, and one way to make the season of summer feel fully lived.

Ambivelence, Thy Name is Etta

Look, I'm a purist about many things.  I think, most of the times, it isn't neccessary to muck around with a story that works, unless you are making a strong point about said work.  For example, if you are going to set A Midsummer Night's Dream at the beach?  Please have a real reason, a way this re-conceptualization shines a new light on the story.  Don't just fuck around with a classic in the name of modernization, or to be different.

And yet... some things need to be changed as they age, because in today's context they go against they go against the original intent of the piece.  The piece under discussion, while not Shakespeare, is certainly iconic and embedded in th current culture.  We are speaking of Wonder Woman, or to be more specific, cohort... Etta.  Etta Candy.  Yeah.  You got it.  She "etta candy".  She etta lot o' candy and got real fat.

Etta was introduced in the second issue of Wonder Woman, and was supposedly born so thin and malnourished that she nearly died.  What saved her?  Chocolate of course!  Lots and lots of chocolate.  She ate a shit ton of it and got hefty.  Health problems over!

Now, for those of you out there insisting that Etta is kick ass and awesome?  That she's some kind of pioneer for the appreciation of self and of our own bodies, however they may be shaped?  I wish I agreed with you.

There is some evidence that supports your claim.  Yes, in one issue, Etta magically gains Wonder Woman's body and decides she prefers her own.  Sweet!  How body positive!  If it were not for the fact that her choice to keep her figure is written with all the jocularity and "can you believe it" whizz bang that comics could muster back then.  Her choice was at most a bone thrown to the heavy girls out there, and at worst a joke based on the incredulity that anyone would choose to be that size.

Yes Etta saves Wonder Woman in a lot of the issues. and has plenty of opportunities to be heroic.  She loves herself, loves her body, and stands up for herself and her friends with strength and bravado.   She is the leader of The Holliday Girls, a sorority that aids Wonder Woman in her adventures and is often taking down oppressors wherever they may pop up.  They also get into a lot of freaky shit behind the scenes...

My main point here, is that, yes, it is great to see an earthly woman who is even more confident and in charge than Wonder Woman, getting things done in a more down and dirty way. I love that she is a woman who has taken her fair share of hits from society, who would love to sideline her, and she always takes center stage, and takes charge.  But unfortunately, there is no getting around the fact that Etta is a joke.  She was written as a joke.  Her family (dad named "Hard", mother named "Sugar" and brother "Mint") is a joke.  Yes, she rescued some captured children... WITH A BOX OF CANDY!  And yes, she stopped a bullet...WITH A BOX OF CANDY! One of her favorite catch phrases?  "For the love of chocolate!" She is there to provide contrast with Wonder Woman, and as a kind of side show freak.  She's shock value.  A big woman who loves herself? Who doesn't want to change?   Whaaaaaaat? As much as I want to like the character, I can't get away from the fact that she is treated as a curiosity.

Etta Candy in the Modern Age

Through the years, a lot has changed with Etta. The attitude with which she was handled changed.  A lot.  She joined the airforce, was aid to a General and to Steve Trevor, and in at least one version she eventually married him, displacing him as Wonder Woman's love interest.  She's gone from body proud, to weight concious and back, she's been black, and white, fat and thin.

Etta Candy as played by Beatrice Colen

Etta Candy in the New 52

Etta Candy in Wonder Woman #1

Grant Morrison's version from "Earth One" harkens back to the original

Etta Candy in Wonder Woman (The Animated Film)

Etta Candy, as featured in The Legend Of Wonder Woman by Renae De Liz and Ray Dillon

My favorite incarnation of Etta is from The Legend Of Wonder Woman, a digital comic soon to be released as a collection in hardcover.  It sends Princess Diana back to college.  It's an origin story of sorts, in which Diana learns how to live in the modern world (the modern world being America in the 1940's. Etta is once again the head of The Holliday Girls (now a girl group a la The Andrews Sisters), and back to being more ample.  She's beautiful, confident, and relate-able.  No longer relegated to comic relief, yet retaining the sass and moxie that made her unique.  Are there a couple digs?  Yes.  As readers we are supposed to wonder at her grand ambitions to be a Hollywood star wooed by Gable, with no thoughts that her ample proportions might be an obstacle, and we the readers are supposed to smirk a bit.  But it's progress.  Major progress.

And what's next for Etta Candy?  She's featured in the upcoming Wonder Woman film, of course, and she still has that damn name.  Etta, as played by Lucy Davis, seems to be taking on some of the comic duties, but in a way that is much more modern and respectful.  In many ways she seems to be the eyes and ears of the audience.  Our "way in" to the character.  It's definitely a fine line to tread, allowing Etta her unique appeal and power (he curvy figure being a major component of which) without turning her into a figure of fun.

But through all these incarnations, no matter how grim and gritty the tone of the book or story, no matter how slender she is, she has been saddled with that awful name.  Etta Candy.  It's not even a real name.  It's a pun, like a bad drag name.  When she's heavy it's insulting, and when she's slender it's incongruous and takes you out of the story, because it's a relic of a less accepting age when men were the sole dictators of the rule of beauty.  As long as that name is tied to the character she won't be completely freed to be the in charge positive force she could and should be. 

Coming Soon: Power, Grace, Wisdom, Wonder

I've said it before.  How can a woman who stands for peace, an alternate way of living from the violence of man, carry a sword?  Why?  Who decided this should be?  In the recently released trailer for the June 2017 release of the looooong awaited Wonder Woman film, the fucking sword is very prevalent.  And she seems very ready to "whip it out".  Now that said, she seems to use it not to hack at people, but at things-- wood, weapons, and to distract and dazzle.  To my mind her golden lasso does just as good a job, but I suppose you can't expect the movie to go TOO far from it's usual philosophy that for women to be as good as men they must be warriors(although, in truth, I do).

Apart from the presence of the sword, there's a lot to be excited about with this trailer.  There is a great screen chemistry between Gal Gadot and Chris Pine's, and he carries a lot of the humor featured in the trailer to great affect.  Etta Candy (Wonder Woman's earthly side kick from the 40's) even makes an appearance, and she's handled with the right amount of care, or so it seems at least from this tiny glimpse. Although, can I for one say let's get rid of that awful, insulting name.  "Etta Candy"????  Aw, for fuck's sake.

I did think it interesting that the setting for the movie is not World War II, but World War I.  The original story was so firmly grounded in the mid-twentieth century aesthetic and mindset, that I never thought they would set it anywhere except the forties, assuming they didn't set it in the present.  This decision does a few things though...  it distances the look from campy visual aesthetics and anything "Old Hollywood".  As much as I love the forties, that glamor, that packaging and that era has become a lot more associated with camp, and for a film that wants to have the appropriate amount of humor and relatively camp free, I understand it.

  It also sets it apart from Captain America and its "aw shucks" mentality, which worked beautifully in that film, but anything similar at this point from a competing franchise's character could be seen as retreading through subject matter that has already been done exceedingly well.

Finally, and possibly most significantly, this time period coincides with the women's suffrage movement, the heroine's of which were major inspirations for the character.  The realization of a major achievement for women's equality could be a wonderful context to really show Wonder Woman in all her glory.

I have to say, this could be a really fun and empowering film, and Gadot certainly seems strong enough, extremely charismatic (in a super serious way, taking care of business way).

Morning At the Museum

Last week, thanks to a friend of mine, I was able to spend a little time at The American Museum of Natural History before it opened, and of course I headed straight for the prehistoric exhibits.  

It's an odd and giddy experience, to be in the presence of what can begin to feel like living creatures, and to have them all to one's self.  Not to have to fight the crowds.

I took a few photos, and while I can't convey exactly what it felt like, hopefully this will give you a glimpse of it.

Diane Arbus at the Met

There's a new exhibition of some of Diane Arbus' earlier photography, and I will be there if only to see this photo in person.

Diane Arbus- Female Impersonator Holding Long Gloves, 1959, Hempstead, L.I.

There's something so brave and vulnerable about the subject, and the seedy theatricality of the dressing room is so...lush.  I admire his courage, his beauty, and as someone who has performed in women's clothing a few times, feel a kinship with him.  I know how dangerous this was for him, and how different the world was, and I wish I could know what happened to him.  But maybe it's better to imagine it for myself.  

Visited By "Angels"

I've been thinking a lot lately about Angels in America.  It's one of the most beautiful pieces of art I've ever experienced, and I've seen and felt different ways about it, as I changed and grew.  It's a piece that haunts me, like Streetcar, as it has a significance to my inner life-- my fears, my hopes,  that I can't completely fathom, but feel in my gut.  And each time I explore it, it hits me with a little more resonance.

The first time I saw the play I was with a girl I was seeing at the time.  We'd been together for about a year, though never "officially" (her decision, not mine) and around the time I met her I had had my first heady experience with another man.  He'd pursued me relentlessly at a time I felt very UN-pursuable, and being with him began to unlock feelings in me that I'd previously thought I could just ignore.  That idea of the closet??  It was a different thing for me.  The "closet" was never something I was knowingly locked inside.  Rather, it was a place inside me that I was choosing to ignore.  A locked corridor that I was afraid, if I opened its doors, I would never be able to close.  I was right.  I couldn't close it again, once it was open.  And I was wrong in the fact that opening that door didn't bring about hopelessness.  It didn't turn me into a joke of a human.  It made me far more human and honest than I could have thought was possible.  And it left me, in many ways, completely the same.
But at the time I first saw that show, I was just "experimenting".  I'd never done it in college (no one would have me) and now was the time. I did not see myself as gay.  This was not  play about me.  It was about "them".  I could sympathize with them, cry for them, appreciate them, but I was not them.  They were not of me.

By the time the HBO mini series came into life, I had really started explore this side of myself.  I had met someone who brought about all those mental fireworks I'd thought were a fairy tale.  While our relationship didn't last, the decision to never accept anything less than these feelings, that was permanent.  And this time?  It was a story about me.  A story that celebrated my passions, that made them mundane, it put me as a person in history.  It gave me a history.

It's true about art that whether it is or isn't appreciated says more about the person viewing it than about the work itself.  Art that truly comes from an honest place, a place of inquiry, of self exposure-- it's mere creation is success.  It's a gift to the creator and to those who experience it, and it will mean different things to different people.  Or to the SAME people, in different parts of their lives.  I'm glad I was exposed to works of art at a young age that I could only truly come to understand as I aged, because to have seen them in a hazy blur made it that much more significant when they came into focus a bit more.

There is a piece on Slate.com that is an oral history of the making of Angels in America, and if you have a relationship to this play, I could not recommend it more.  It made me feel again all those surges of expectation and jolts of recognition that the show itself made me feel.  If you don't know the play?  Please watch this mini-series.  I beg you.

Today, I am making a trek to Central Park to visit The Bethesda Fountain which is so central to the story, as I feel pretty certain I will be re-visiting this story again to see what else it has in store.

Year One in New York City (A Recap)

This week begins my second year in New York City and it seems like a good time to assess, to think, and make some new goals--  to think about my achievements, where I have grown and where I need to recommit.

To begin with, I am proud to have made it this far.  A year ago I was house sitting in Brooklyn, unemployed, brand new to the city.  I had a couple of close connections to keep me grounded, but I was still very much a stranger in town.   The time between then and now has largely been a process f familiarizing myself with the culture and finding a way to fit in here- finding y place as a person.

And now?  I've been through a lot.  I have a full-time job which I've been in for three months(the decision to take said job being something I honestly worry was a "sell-out" move, and yet, we need money to support our creative life don't we?).  I spent a wonderful time at The New York Transit Museum and met some truly original people who felt like family in so many ways.  I'm so grateful for Polly, Kristin, Marie, Berto, Christina and Kathleen, as well as all the other amazing folks there, and for the opportunity to perform for little tots.    Being there was a major highlight of my year, a tremendous blessing, and I continually wish I could have made it work for a longer time.  

I got my Equity card and booked a job upstate, my only official gig so far.  I have mixed emotions about that.  Yes!  It was the universe affirming my decision, giving me immediate metaphorical hugs, but since then, there has not been much career activity, except for the kind that can't be measured.  I've been getting seen, hopefully planting seeds, making connections.  As far as having my card?  I feel like now is the time for me to be trying new things, working in smaller venues, experimenting, meeting people.  Am I letting my Equity status hamper that?  I've auditioned perhaps twenty-five  other times and have yet to receive a call-back.  Most of the auditions have been for big shows, Broadway, with a few summer stock jobs mixed in.  I feel daunted by the fact that I have yet to book anything else.  On the up-side, I worked with an amazing pianist who has really encouraged my move and been very helpful in expanding my book.  I HAVE A BOOK!  I've received encouraging communication from an agent, even if it was really just "let me know when you are in something and I'll come see you".  

There's been so much amazing theatre in my year here, some of it experimental, and some very mainstream.  My highlights would have to be seeing the revival of The King And I, and sobbing through the entire production.  It's proof positive that an amazing director, creative team and cast can make a classic piece really breathe.  I connected with so many stories that night, felt such empathy for ALL the characters.  It was truly breathtaking, and one of my favorite nights in the theatre ever.  I also saw Deaf West's revival of Spring Awakening, saw the legendary Charles Busch both in his cabaret at 54 Below, and in his most recent play Cleopatra.

I've gotten closer with two of my friends from college, and I've been really grateful to have them to cheer for and cheer me on, to commiserate with and to stay focused with.  One of them I literally ran into in my neighborhood, and it was a uniquely serendipitous New York kind of moment which we luckily both took advantage of.  I also reconnected with a friend from High School.  She's a terrific, and very prolific playwright who has seen a lot of success, and we've shared writing sessions, I've joined her writer's group for a session, we've delved into seriously nerdy boardgames, and been oddly fascinated by Korean dramas on T.V.  

Of course while some friendships have flourished, one, in particular did not, and the hardest thing I did this year was lose my best friend of over twenty years.  I don't regret any of the decisions I made or any of the things that happened, as they brought me here to this moment, which I am grateful for.  I do still grieve the loss of the friendship, however, at this point there is no turning back for me.  

Creatively I have done a few things.  I've kept up with this blog, written a short play, guested on a friend's podcast, dipped my foot into the audition pool, and written 40,000 words of a novel which I began in November.  Working on it is like a marathon- tiny bit by tiny bit.  My goals for growth in this upcoming year are most concentrated in the arts.  I want to redouble my efforts in auditioning and growing my skills, collect more monologues and songs, and join a class to both learn and enlarge my creative community.  I am here in New York to create, and I cannot let fear beat me into submission.  I will finish my rough draft by next July, and I will have performed in a cabaret venue--even if it's an open-mic.

One of the reasons I came out to New York was to explore my romantic side more, and that has probably been the most active side of my life.  In Austin it was beginning to feel like I had been through most of the men that I would be interested in and that would be interested in me, and I was so tired of trying to meet men at bars, because apart from one pretty lovely person, I had only found brief flings there.  In New York I have been on many dates, met some really great guys, and while I am not at this moment in a long term relationship, it has been really exciting, and a learning experience, certainly.  

So, the end of one year finds me in a different neighborhood than I started, one that I had eyed enviously before I lived there, and it finds me with a really lovely roommate who I could not be more grateful for.  But what happens next? 

To Being True

Two wonderful people got married last week, and I was lucky enough to be there.  I flew home to Austin for a few days, and feel really grateful to be a part of their wedding.  It was a simple and elegant wedding, on a boat, and while the two grooms were of course the most instrumental in making it happen, their was so much love and support from everyone to make the evening work, that it made the end result so much more satisfying.    

I want so much for these two people, feel fiercely devoted, and am proud of them.  I admire their courage, their strength of vision and their seemingly effortless kindness.  There was a moment after the ceremony, when I stopped dancing long enough to take everything in, and as I watched everyone laughing and dancing and making merry under the night sky as the boat meandered down Lady Bird Lake, I was just so charmed.  And taken by how important it is to be true to yourself.  To express one's self honestly.  And I mean, completely separated from one's sexuality.  To be free enough to discard the masks that we cling to in order to present ourselves as perfect people.  To own who we are, the things we admire, to stand up for them, and what we value, these two things are instrumental to living a meaningful life.  In fact, they may be the key to it.  

Ch-Ch-Changes

I'm a little unsettled this morning.  I woke up in the middle of the night from a dream in which one of my best friends and I had had an argument.  It was a combo "Actor's Nightmare" and "fight with your friend so I am irrationally angry at them when I wake up" dream.  I know dreams are dreams, but I also wonder if there's a legitimate issue buried under there somewhere.  At some point I'll have to wade into it all and try to come up with something.

That and a strange sense of "the walls closing in" coupled with some issues in a project I'm writing are coming together to make it a disquieting morning.

I'm currently at my coffee shop, and it's been making some changes.  This bitch don't like changes in things that I think are already working.  Gossip Coffee shop had a great brand, modern and cozy decor, delicious donuts with off-beat flavors like Prosciutto Guinness and these amazing rice puddings.  They offered something that most places do not, and were a really unique and friendly spot.  But things don't feel the same lately.  It feels like they are futzing around with success trying to make more success and in the process they may damage the brand they've created.

The rice puddings and sandwiches?  Gone.  In their place as of yesterday?  Gelato.  Gross.  Now don't get me wrong.  I like gelato.  I'm sure they'll get a lot of people who want to sample the flavors, but I don't go to a coffee shop for gelato, ad it feels like a sell-out.  Plus, I'd developed a fun rapport with one of the servers, and I haven't seen her in a while now.  I fear she's gone off to greener pastures.

As for the writing issues?  I've been working on a project for about eight months now, am about 40,000 words in, and realize I've strayed a bit from some of the elements that drew me into the story in the first place.  It's an idea I've had for years, and then it got influenced and altered a bit by fresher experiences.  These experiences feel more authentic, and are easier to pull from and play with, but that lack the sense of 'fun' that the world had before that I wanted to luxuriate in.    I've already stopped my progress once to go back and revise the first draft, and it felt like a mistake.  I promised I wouldn't do it again.  And yet, major setting changes and character character changes are necessary to go back to the original feeling.  Should I continue down this rabbit hole that I've decided may not work, and then change it later once I've finished the rough draft?  Or should I go back and make those alterations?  The risk in doing that is that I may forever be making changes and never get the end of the story.  A feeling of a Sissyphean struggle could be daunting and cause me to scrap the whole thing.

I think the answer for now is to make notes on the struggles, the issues, possible resolutions, and how they may be resolved, ways to inject more of the original essence in what I have, and then continue on wth the draft.  These elements aren't integral to the plot, and may not be the most difficult to change.  And who knows what I will discover if I continue the way I've been going?