The Working Poor, Blue Collar Artist Guide to Life (in Tough Times)

That's the title of my new book. Don't steal it.

Do Not Steal - stealing does not help, even in tough times.

Say Yes! to everything everyone offers.

Is taking food from a dumpster stealing? Nope. Taking anything thrown away by someone else is just fine.

And do accept, gracefully, everything anyone wants to give you.

Organic produce a friend got from the dumpster behind the really expensive natural foods store? YES!

Old furniture an acquaintance wants to get rid of? YES!

Free samples from every single vendor at the NW Womens' Show? YES!

Charity care from any doctor or hospital that will see you? YES!

In good times, these tactics may not be necessary - you may want to buy your own produce, not clutter your garage and bathroom with lots of stuff. You may actually have real health insurance.

But in tough times? That old chair might bring $5 at your summer garage sale. Or a lot more, if you dust it off, do a little research, and realize it's a collectible. Every free sample means one less trip to the drugstore, and a slightly bruised organic apple is just as tasty and nutritious as the ones still in the store.

And health care should be a right, not a privilege, in a country as wealthy as ours. So go take it. Stealing may be appropriate in this particular situation. Some would say that insurance companies and ridiculously laden bureacratic operations have stolen the ability of the working poor to access the care they need to stay alive. In this, the wealthiest country in the entire world. A country where hedge fund managers live in 30,000 square foot homes and find ways to dodge taxes. And politicians, even the good ones, talk and talk and talk and achieve next to nothing.

No one will change things for us, so we'd better do it for ourselves. So go ahead, storm the doctors' offices and hospitals and demand the care you need.

Sometimes it feels good to be ahead of the curve. We have been blue collar artists, and -consequently - among the working poor all of our lives. We know how to do this.

Maybe we will prosper. We will certainly survive.

- Inspired by news of 45,000 people cut from WA State's Basic Health. 45,000 poor people who, like us, will have no health insurance. Also inspired by the thrift and wisdom of friends.





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New Work! New Ideas! New Life!

Things feel good - energy crackling and ideas popping!

Found a cool website - http://www.dooce.com/ - about moms and women and life, and I have some good part-time work gigs afoot, AND -

I figured out what I want to do with my life!

I love these moments! When everything becomes clear and the surge begins...

and as all good ideas, it blossomed in conversation, in a restaurant, with a friend:

My pal Leslie and me, sittin' in Geraldine's Counter, in Columbia City, catching up after a couple of years apart. Talking about life, love, work, dreams, work, questions, self-doubt, self-questioning, reveling in our narcissism - who doesn't love that girfriend time?

And I said, somewhat abashed: "I've been thinking about reviving See Me Naked... like, for womens' conferences and stuff..."

And she almost jumped out of her seat. And said, "I want to do that with you! We can add a facilitation piece, a training piece, workshops, etc..."

And the old adage - two heads are better than one - is once again ringing true.

In less than 24 hours, we have a project management website cooking (to keep us on track), we've started work on a mission / vision statement, we have a short list of powerful women to call upon for advice & support when the time is right, and we have a powerful, identifiable indicator of success:

In 18 months, we will be sitting on Oprah's couch, talking about our work.

I'll be trying to not stare at Oprah's eyelashes, and Leslie will be comfortable out on the couch instead of in the background.

I just told Kenny, my husband, our plan, and his response:

"Everyone, please welcome.... Liz Lemonnnnnnnnnn!!!!!!!!!!!"

... in his spot-on impersonation of Tina Fey impersonating Oprah welcoming her character on 30 Rock.

Why not?

Why not.

Let the roadmap unfurl...




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Work. Breath. Voice. Death. Life. Poetry.

I was a vocal coach today. At Jack Straw productions, here in Seattle. For high school students, all from other countries, all learning English. They had written poems, in their classes, with a poet/teaching artist leading them. Poems about their homes.

Homes in Afghanistan. Russia. Vietnam. Romania. Iraq.

Poems about their lives. Uprooted lives, begun on one continent and now unfolding on another.

Poems about their friends. Dead friends. Friends, killed by bombs.

Poems about their homes, what they missed. The roses in their gardens. The stuffed animals in their rooms.

Poems about religion. Poems about bombs. Poems about their favorite foods.

And I got to stand next to them as they read, in the recording studio, and help them. Help them articulate, pace, communicate. Breathe. That was my job today. I am blessed, on days like this, to get to do this work. I am blessed.

My life has been so easy. So unbelievably, unmistakably EASY. Help me to always and forever know this, to remain in gratitude and humility. Easy.





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