Extremely Late Obligatory Update About the SAG Awards

I said I would update everyone in regards to my progress getting through the SAG nominated films and television shows, and though it is now weeks after the winners accepted their awards, I am dutifully here to up-date, as I am trying to be better at follow-through (the key to any success).

I made it through a couple more shows, and through several films, carefully voted according to my heart, and... no one I really cared about, excepting Claire Foy, won anything.

My vote for Timothee Chalamet went to Gary Oldman, which, come on. Prestigious film, historical, and a character that everybody can look back on to do a comparative analysis and say "yep, that's pretty close." Chalamet''s work felt so much deeper, so daring, and complex.

Jessica Lange in Feud? Nope.

Holly Hunter in The Big Sick? Nope, again.

The cast of Mudbound for best ensemble? Again... uh-uh.

I DID vote for the cast of Wonder Woman for best stunt ensemble, Stirling K Brown, Claire Foy, and for Alexander Skarsgard, all of who took statues. And I am happy for them, and their deserving work. But this is not a very good record, if I were attempting to predict the winners.

Obligation Over. Good job, Joe.

Today, I Am An Eligible SAG Voter

This year I am determined to be a fully participating person in the creative world. I'm working to get over my laziness, step by continual step, and make things happen. This means pushing away some of the distractions, all the temptations of food, sex, mindless computer time, etc. and overcoming fear enough to do the things that are in line with my goals, even if that particular thing alone doesn't seem like it could be enough to make an impact. I have yet to come up with a concrete New Years resolution, but I do have a number of goals that I am whittling away at, which I hope will lead to changes in my present and future here in the city.

One of the things I am doing this year? Voting for the SAG awards. I've never done this, in spite of having been a member of the union for more years than I care to say. This year? I will participate as best I can, even though it's a somewhat daunting challenge to view all of the 43 nominees (by my admittedly rough count).  I feel confident about getting through most of the films, but the television series? How much do you need to have seen to have a strong understanding? And what if the series has been around for multiple seasons, none of which I have seen? I'm not quite sure how to tackle this challenge, but I plan to.

So far I have seen the films Wonder Woman, Call Me By Your Name, Get Out, I Tonya, Ladybird, The Shape Of Water, and TheBig Sick, and the full seasons of Feud: Bette and Joan, The Crown, Master of None, and Stranger Things. But there are more than thirty works to see, and just two weeks in which to view them. I'll probably start with the films, and then prioritize the series by how much I care about the nomination, as I just can't imagine going through all seasons of The Walking Dead simply to vote for the best ensemble stunt work. And of course, accessibility is a major factor as well, which is where the importance of the screeners comes in. And realizing that there are likely many union members who do not take this as seriously as I am attempting to, reminds me what aware what a shot in the dark these awards are and how much a body of work matters, as many voters may not have seen the most current season of a television show, but will readily vote on the past seasons, assuming this to be a relatively accurate indicator of their current viability as a nominee.

Right now I am making my way through Big Little Lies, with plans to watch MudBound this evening, and The Florida Project tomorrow, and I have to admit that so far I have been choosing the viewing order not by how many nominations the piece has, but simply by the size of my interest. Once I've gotten through the next few, who knows what will come next?

Updates to come.

To Write?

Today is one of those gorgeous New York days. Sixty two degrees, with a brisk wind that keeps it exciting, and with a sense of anticipation in the air. Part of that is the approach of Halloween, and the succession of holidays to follow, and part of it is just the sheer unquestionable beauty of this area.

Today's a day to head out to the Strand Bookstore and pick up a used copy of a writing manual that I hope will give me some ideas for a story to write during Nanowrimo (that's National Novel Writing Month for those who are uninitiated). In spite of my unfinished mystery novel from last year with twenty paltry but crucial pages left to complete, I am considering diving back in.  Maybe it will be easier if it's not a genre that requires such tight structure and a surprise ending where it seems like surprises are impossible, as everything has already been done.  And yet, with three days to launch I still don't have a solid idea to write.  While the idea of diving in and typing away Jack Kerouac style has its appeal, I can't imagine the efforts from that will be worth the dedication it will take. Part of my brain is saying that the trying is enough.

I really would like to take a leap in and balls to the wall plunk something out, really stick to my word count, and finish the challenge. So what if the result is no good?  That's not we're supposed to be thinking about at this early stage any way, if I recall. For now, I'm committed to walking around in the city, maybe see if there are any decent podcasts that are out there to assist with this project, and to picking up the aforementioned book.  Later today I'll continue with journalling ideas, bouncing them around in my head, and tonight I'll ask the universe to help me with my decision.

Answers tomorrow.

Magic Moments

In my past couple of years in New York I've gotten to stand next to, and even chat with some pretty lovely artists and entertainers. It always makes me shy and somewhat giddy which, for a six foot 2 inch guy is kind of ridiculous, but nonetheless true.

I have a small part in my friend Leslie Carrara Rudolph's cabaret What Just Happened?...

This might be me on the left, with a guest of the show, Lolly Lardpop, and Leslie Carrara Rudolph

and because of it I've gotten to meet Chita Rivera (the sensation of hearing that iconic voice up close in my ear is etched in my memory banks), as well as a couple of other really terrific people.



Meeting Luis from Sesame Street was akin to meeting Santa Claus in person. Leslie had to ask him for the photo, because I was too nervous to bother him.  There's just a very special relationship that people have with him, because he helped to guide us (albeit remotely) and tell us about how the world works, and with such a gentle and understanding demeanor. I can't imagine how many people must reach out to him every day, and he handled my nerves with aplomb.  And getting the opportunity to chat with sound man Fred Newman? Forget about it.  I had his ZOUNDS! record and book when I was a kid (yes, I said record. In fact it was this thin floppy little record that came with the book. I must have spent hours trying to do a dog bark like his without the best results) and I'd seen him on multiple television shows as a kid.  When he took over as the effects guy for Prairie Home Companion it was an obvious match made in Heaven. Both of these men just overflowed with generosity, and it was really heartwarming and encouraging to see. Fred talked about his years growing up and the influence that the story tellers in Georgia had on his life, leading him into sound effects and to New York where he became friends with Andy Warhol and Jim Henson. I felt really lucky t have been in the right place at the right time.

Most of all though, I'm grateful for my friendship with Leslie Carrara Rudolph herself, her unique magic, her massive amounts of support, open hearted nature, and her whimsy. One of my best pals i this world, and it's been a blessing to have had her as a companion on this journey and to be her friend on hers. And who else could truly appreciate the magic of finding Clam Strips for $1?

New York Comic Con 2017!!!

This weekend is New York Comic Con, and while I was only able to get a ticket for the first day, Thursday, which is considered by most to be a warm-up to the main event, I feel like I have gotten more than my fill.  My friend Leslie and I headed out at 10:30AM and The Javitz Center was pretty empty looking.  So far so good.  Leslie had said that Thursday was the least attended day, and that the panels were mostly being held in the NYC Library, so it should be pretty manageable. Luckily, I was not really interested in Panels, except for the panel that afternoon for LORE, the upcoming Amazon Prime show based on the eery historical podcast of the same name. The lines for these panels are notoriously long, and the real reason I had been excited about the Convention was for Artist's Alley, the area where all the comic book artists have their booths, take on commissions, and sell very reasonably priced prints of their work.

First pic of the day! (With Izma and Kuzco)

I was their scoping out a possible artist to commission for a drawing of Cathy, to use for further promotion. I already had one in mind, but wasn't certain if he would be available, and so I wanted to take a look at the other options.  I did see a couple that I was interested (one in particular did work that was reminiscent of the later season I Love Lucy title segments) but none was a perfect match to the character and her period. I did get to meet and see the work of some terrific artists like Jay Fosgitt (creator of Bodi Troll) and the brilliant artist of paper cut confections, Charles Thurston. This part of the con did not disappoint, and was truthfully enough for me.  Still...

My friend Leslie!

It was only about noon at this point, and leaving so early felt like a let-down, so we headed up to the INTENSELY crowded show room. There was a Funko booth, but good luck getting in to purchase anything.  They'd apparently had a lottery weeks prior to get a chance at getting in line, and there weren't any spots available anymore. So outside of paying someone in line to purchase something for you, good luck. And I had already spent my minimal budget, so... no huge loss. We wandered the show room for a while, looking at aisles and aisles of "stuff". Products, t-shirts, posters, toys... but relatively few comics. This all would have been fine, except for the fact that I am a gregarious and outgoing person who loves being around people, and yet...being around them does not energize me, and afterwards I quickly need some alone time. I am not sure if this is because I really AM an extroverted introvert, or if that is just an example of me being like the rest of America, desperately seeking a label for myself at the same time I claim to be beyond them. Anyway, there were people everywhere, apparently this was the turnout that had usually only been seen on Saturday, and while it was festive, it was also a bit draining.

We headed downstairs for some food, and were met by a temporary structure designed to look like a house from the 1800's.  It was a promotional event for the new Amazon Prime Show, LORE, based on a pre-existing podcast  (Quick sidebar- I've not mentioned it before, but it is a really atmospheric, creepy audio podcast of historically supernatural stories which have through time morphed into legend, for example, the sighting of a snake bodied-horse headed sea serpent, or a doll that seemed to move around the house of its own volition and seemed to be terrorizing the little boy who owned him).  What seemed like it would be a quick peek turned into a two hour wait, and while it was fun to enter the rooms and meet actors portraying people from the stories that would be featured in the upcoming show, it did feel like the emphasis was on promotion, and not on acquainting people with the show. Too be fair, the convention going public is the kind to be more interested in an immersive experience of the show rather than the historically accurate photos and relics I was hoping for, and I'm sure the panel went into a lot more detail about the content of the future show.

Each room had talked briefly about one of the stories to be focused on in the show, and had a photo-op.  Feeling a little bit like a living "sandwich board", I nonetheless dutifully show the photos to you.

The actors were pretty great, and admittedly, the upcoming premier on October 13th is very much in the forefront of my mind. The third room of the house looked very promising, as the episode about lycanthropy was the what had lured me into listening to the podcast in the first place.

Now, I have to say... the group I was with?  Really lovely people, but what with Leslie gripping my arm in terror and me being six foot tall and standing in the front, I was the guinea pig of each room, which is what had me being the first one to sit down for a portrait in the final room and giving this extremely unsuitable expression...

After leaving the Museum of Lore, we headed back to Artist's Alley so Leslie could say a quick goodbye to a couple of the artists she is friends with, and then we headed to Juniors for a much deserved meal.  

I have to say, as much as I enjoyed the experience, I'm definitely more suited to the smaller, cozier Flame Con from a month prior.  They were my people!!

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Digging Deeper

I first discovered Austin Kleon a few years ago, through Steal Like An Artist, his book of nuggets which provide strategies and tips to build a more creative life. I found it really helpful, and it helped me to focus my energies on my creative goals, releasing a bit of the grip I have on the baggage I carry around with me.

In reading his follow-book Show Your Work, which focuses on getting your message out to an audience, I stumbled upon a passage I thought I'd share. As someone who just finished putting together a show, and is worrying that maybe that's as good as it's going to get and I've mined my best material, I found it really encouraging. Hopefully you will too.

"The Comedian Louis C.K. worked on the same hour of material for 15 years, until he found out that his hero, George Carlin, threw out his material every year and started from scratch. C.K. was scared to try it, but once he did, it set him free. 'When you're done telling jokes about airplanes and dogs, and you throw those away, what do you have left? You can only dig deeper. You start talking about your feelings and who you are. And then you do those jokes and they're gone. You gotta dig deeper.' When you get rid of old material, you push yourself further and come up with something better. When you throw out old work, what you're really doing is making room for new work."

Cosplay is Art!

I consider myself pretty brave. It does, after all, take some chutzpah (L'Shana Tova, everyone!) to keep on writing whether anyone is reading or not, and to parade around in vintage ladies clothing... and yet, nothing can turn on the nerves for me, like the mere thought of "Cosplay".

Through Cosplay, you are crafting a costume all on your own, baring your soul and often your body, and proclaiming an admiration for another piece of pop culture/art.  More than that, you are stating that you share enough in common with what you admire to embody it before others.  It's art, pure and simple, and like all art it is expressive, freeing, and a joy to behold.

Here are some amazing cosplayers from my recent trip to FLAMECON, the LGBTQ Comic Convention...

 The above were my favorites from the con, and while I'll admit, there aren't many photos, I vow to get more on my trip to NY ComicCon on October 5th.

Pave Paradise...

Sunday began my first exploration of New York's LGBTQ history with the assistance of the previously mentioned Stepping Out. I have to say I really enjoyed the journey, and learned so much.  History, is in it's best sense collection of true stories, things of import that affected our present times, often in ways we couldn't have conceived of at the time. Sunday I walked a good portion of the East Village and earned about Emma Goldman, Frank O'Hara, and about Andy Warhol.  I visited the former location of the Lafayette Bathhouse, which operated in the early 1900's through the thirties, and which was at one point owned y the Gershwin family (mother and father to George and Ira).  I also stopped at Webster Hall, which ad been home to some lush and rather infamous drag balls back during the Roaring Twenties, and I learned about one of the most notorious gay brothels back in the 1890s, Columbus Hall. I wish I had masses of pictures to share, but, with as changing as the city is, most of these locations are paved over, were demolished and built anew, or are skeletons of their former glory (Webster Hall just recently was sold, and on August 5th ceased to be a night club in order to prepare for "demo, reno and transition to corporate ownership under Barclays/AEG/Bowery Presents", and while I thought it was protect, as an historical city landmark, that appears not to be the case).

Yes. I understand. New York is a beast.  Constantly changing, growing, transforming. I appreciate that. I also appreciate the importance of knowing and celebrating our story, the both story of the city and of our peoples, both straight and gay, in-between and beyond. Knowing these things happened, and imagining how things might have been, gave me some appreciation for how they might be right now, for the history that is being created as we speak.  Because, even though we may think the resent to be relatively stagnant, or that oppression keeps us fro changing and growing, we now because of history, that this is not so.  One need only to look to "prohibition" and remember how much drinking took place at a time when alcohol was illegal.

And even though most of the time on Sunday it felt like I was moving from geographical point to geographical point with very little to mark the pas that made the location famous, it did feel good to stand where those things happened, and to move from space to space, and realize how much life and how many dreams and hopes were packed into every block.

Stepping Out and Back to The Past

Today's planned visit to Flushing Meadows Park has been postponed, as the U.S. Open is just a few hundred feet away from the museum, which means that not only is one of the major reasons for the journey closed, but the park will be a madhouse for today's final match of the tournament.  Instead I'm going to take book I picked up online a while ago, and be a tourist in my own city, exploring some of the historic LGBT spots in the East Village.  How do I plan to do that you may ask?  Why, with Stepping Out: Nine Walks Through New York City's Gay and Lesbian Past, of course. I found this on the bookshelf of someone I had a couple of dates with, and ended up purchasing it. I have barely opened the book in the six months I've had it, but often think about using it to walk the city, and today is the day to put it to good use!

I will report back, but in the meantime, I leave you with this little film about the 1939 World's Fair, which also took place at Flushing Meados Park, and which has the the catchy title The Middleton Family At the New York World's Fair. Yes, it is hopelessly cornball, very dated in its mindset, and blatant in its motives, but I also find it rather charming at moments. And if that Jim Treadwell isn't a dream walking, I don't know what is!

Recommended: Make Art Make Money

Art fuels more art. The simple act of getting my ass down to the seat tends to do more for my creativity than nearly anything.  And yet, sometimes just moving those few feet to the desk or the coffee shop can seem easier to put off for just "a few minutes".  So I always try to supplement my off times, my idle moments, with books about art, or artists, and ways to cope with the challenges of creativity.  

The book I am loving right now is Make Art Make Money: Lessons From Jim Henson on Fueling Your Creative Career by Elizabeth Hyde Stevens.  

It explores the successful ways that Jim Henson was able marry art and commerce, much of which involved the "art as gift" philosophy.  The basic idea behind it is that art, by its very nature is a gift.  And yet, those creating that gift need to be able to support themselves in order to continue creating.  It's a basic truth, that for the creator, most of the financial gains from that art go right back into making more. And more often than not, the one who creates will put more effort, more time, and more money into it than is "wise" in a business sense of the word. Henson both epitomizes this, and made peace with this. He was able to keep the message of his work pure even though he was commodifying and selling likenesses of his characters.  The work never became about making money. The money was always to make more and better art.  Without The Muppet Show you could never have had The Muppet Movie, without which you could never have had The Dark Crystal, without which you could never have had The Story Teller, and so on.  This is true not just on a financial level, one funding the next, but on a creative level.  The artistic achievements and new understandings reached in one project made the next one possible.

One of the passages that I found particularly inspiring discusses Henson's 1972 television special The Muppet Musicians of Bremen, in which four mistreated animals escape their miserable masters to seek a new life. Hyde Stevens uses this work to parallel the creative struggles Henson was going through.

     Chased from his home, Leroy [the donkey] finds himself alone in the world, pulling junk that                

     "ain't worth nothin". He doesn't seem very lucky at all. But he can be. 

     Enter the frog. 

     Leroy laments his condition to Kermit, who happens to be sitting on a fence. "I'm on the road

     to nowhere," he says. "I gave ol' Mordecai eighteen years of hard work, and what do I have to 

     show for it?"

     Kermit points at the wagon.

     "It's mighty hard pullin'." The wagon, he thinks, is nothing but a burden.

     Kermit tells him he also has a tuba.

     "You mean this big kinda twisty funnel thing? I don't even know what it's fer!"

Kermit shows the donkey how to change his perception of his lot in life, that the things he views as a burden can actually be a salvation. The same can be said for every artist. We spend out lives trying to hide our injuries and imperfections and show only what we have decided is worthy. Doing this is like "a dancer, dancing with one hand behind her back" as my former acting teacher used to say.  Sharing the wounds artfully, allows intimacy between artist and viewer, and opens up a whole new pathway to explore, one that's likely to be very fertile territory because it is at the heart of what we are most passionate about.

Hyde Stevens continues:

     Henson's shoestring budget resulted in Kermit being fashioned out of the fabric from his

     mother's old coat, and that intern spawned the look of a thousand Muppets. His work in

     commercials [something Henson had very ambivalent feelings about] led both to a healthy

     workshop budget and eventually to Sesame Street, who's producers were trying to use the power    

     of commercials to teach. It couldn't be predicted from the outset, but each part led to the next part,  

     and eventually it added up to staggering success when Henson started to see the shape it might

     take.

     Henson may not have chosen his career up until 1958, but he was able to turn burdens into

     strengths. "Take what you got and fly with it," Henson said. Most of us simple don't know what 

     we've got.

Make Art Make Money: Lessons From Jim Henson on Fueling Your Creative Career began as a series of essays published in , and these were later expanded to become a full exploration of Henson's work, and lessons from that way of working that we can use today.  It's available from Amazon.com, and is a steal at $9.19

         

     

                        

Course Correction

Have I failed the challenge?  That quickly?  Watch me backpedal and say that I only said I would do 31 posts in the next days until September was over, and so I haven't exactly failed, and can get back on course with a quick correction. Do you buy that?  Can we continue? Good.

I'v been dog sitting for the past week for a couple of dear friends of mine, and their apartment is full of whimsy and wonder.  I'd intended for it to be a place to really bucks down and create, and yet, I encountered all of the same demons here that I would have encountered at home.  The good thing is that I HAVE been more creative here than I think I would have at my own apartment, just not as creative as I imagined, and if we can assume there is always going to be, at least, a small gap between the imagined ideal and the imperfect reality, than I can be happy about what I achieved.  What was that, you ask?   The beginning of a painting (my first since seventh grade) a couple of blog posts, and some notes on a future Cathy Dresden show.

I've also been thinking about a piece of fiction, something I've had percolating for a while and that I may want to work on during Nanowrimo. I have yet to finish the piece I started last year, and interestingly enough i am right down to the finish line folks. The problem is it's a mystery, and the ending I had been plotting seems a little less than spectacular, and the part of me that had said to myself "mysteries are never really about the 'dun' in 'whodunnit', but the who".  I'd convinced myself it was enough to have a great idea, fun characters, and a couple of pre-planned twists. But now I am doubting those twists.  And while it has yet to be a year since I started the project, and in that time I have managed to write nearly 100,000 words, the little whisperings of doubt tend to find their way to my ears no matter what. Hopefully though, it has been long enough since I wrote last that I have given myself a little space from the attachment of perfection, and I can realize the truth that done and imperfect is better that potentially perfect and never finished.