Sunday, October 31, 2010

Two - No. Three. Three Plays. One Week. The Future.

Somewhere, sometime, somehow in the last few years I must have said to myself:

"I want to act again."

Because I have noticed, when I say things like that, they eventually happen.

Tomorrow - Monday - and Tuesday, I rehearse See Me Naked. For the first time in three years.

On Wednesday, I rehearse Belle of Amherst. Thursday, I perform Belle, at the beautiful Womens' University Club in downtown Seattle.

Friday, I tech and dress See Me Naked, at the funky and awesome Open Space for Arts & Community on Vashon Island.

Then, on Saturday, I perform See Me Naked.

Oh - and I forgot something - tomorrow night I actually have a rehearsal for another play - B4, by Kathy Hsieh - for a reading that will go up November 7 and 8.

This is my week.

And sometime in between all of that, I'll write one or two grants and start the fundraising letter for one of my places.

So Kenny and Finn are leaving me alone right now, blessedly. I am hoping for 4 hours, but will likely get 2. See Me Naked is far from my memory, which is odd - for years, that show was one I could pick up in 15 minutes or less.

I'm scattered, internally. Abuzz.

I am acting again. Like, really. The Belle performance on Thursday will be number 36 or 37 or something like that - and may be my last full one. I have a gig to perform a short section of it at a fundraiser November 14, and who knows after that.

See Me Naked? Here's the thing - UMO has started working with a new booking agent. He books a very successful show all around North America - Defending the Caveman. The creator of that show retired to a ranch he bought in Montana. He doesn't have to work anymore. When I heard about that, I thought about See Me Naked, and I said, out loud, "I wanna be the lady caveman."

And Elizabeth said, "You have to do that show again." And I said, "Yeah."

And 10 minutes later I walked across the field to Open Space, and the wonderful director there Karen said,
"Hey - we want you to do See Me Naked here!"

10 minutes.

Life is... afoot, it seems.

I'll have made about 30% of my very tiny income this year from ACTING. On stage. In Seattle. That is mildly astonishing. I'd like to make 60% of a much healthier income next year from acting.

Next year, and beyond. I do. I want it. I wanna be the lady caveman. I wanna do See Me Naked enough more times to have some fun, earn lots of money, and then have other ladies take it over and perform it all over the world. I wanna sit and talk to Oprah at some point. I wanna retire to my own ranch somewhere and think about what kind of work I really want to do next, and not have to worry for a moment about scraping out a living.

Today. This Week. Next Year. The Future.

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Monday, August 23, 2010

Finn Judd's First Screenplay

Finn wanted to know if there was a Devil Duck cartoon movie. I said, “I don’t think so – why don’t we make one someday with the video camera? We’ll have to make up a story for it.” And he dictated the following story.


Finn Judd’s first Screenplay, as told to his Mom.

Title: Devil Duck Land

Once upon a time, a purple Devil Duck came, and she said, 'I love Devil Duck land!'

Then, a big mean Green Duck came and they were fightin'. Then, they said, 'I don't want to fight at each other!'

A big Mean Orange Duck came and he tried to kill Green Duck and Purple Duck. Then Orange Duck said, 'I Don't want to try and kill you!'

Then the big mean Red Duck came and he cried, 'I'm trying to kill you out of control!' Then he said, 'I Don't want to kill you out of control!'

Then a big big big spotted Devil Duck came and he tried to put Red Duck, Orange Duck, Purple Duck and Green Duck in jail. Then, the spotted Duck said, 'I Don't want to put you in jail!'

Then, the great big big Fire Duck came right over to Devil Duck land and he said, 'I want to put you in my mouth!' Then he said, 'I Don't want to put you in my mouth!'

Then a big big Pink Duck came running over to Devil Duck land and she said, 'I want to poke you on my horns!' Then she said, ‘I don’t want to poke you on my horns!’

Then a big big mean Clear Duck came running over to Devil Duck land and he said, ‘I want to put them in my squeaky!’

Then a great big mean Hapu (camouflage) Duck came running over to Devil Duck land and he said, ‘I want to put you in my beak!’ Then he said, ‘I Don’t want to put you in my beak.’

Then, a big big big Pirate Duck came running over the Devil Duck land. He said, ’I want to put you in my pirate’s treasure!’ Then, he said, ‘I Don’t want to put you inside my pirate’s treasure!’

(Cut to Mom writing: “Why are they changing their minds, do you think?” Finn: “‘cause that’s the movie I want to make up for them!”)

Then a Great Big Big Big Ginormous Green Devil Duck came running over to Devil Duck land and he said, ‘I want to poke you on my horns!’ and then he said, ‘I Don’t want to poke you on my horns!’

Then no Devil Ducks came running over to Devil Duck land.



The End.

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Friday, August 6, 2010

Acting, Emily - it's all about the Hair


Finn: what's that mask?

Me: What mask?

Finn: that thing, on your head!

Me: the braid? Finn: yeah.

Me: that's a braid I wear, to make my hair look long.

Finn: and that makes you turn into Emily Dickinson!

Me: Yes. Yes it does.

And therein, friends, lies the secret of all acting. It's all about the hair. Trust me. It is.

thanks to Emily Kight for putting it on my head every night, and to Mohini (aka MangoPowerGirl) for making me look so lovely in these pics.

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Wednesday, June 16, 2010

pretty, new, old summer sky magic

Do you like my new design?

I do. I love sky. The top photo is one I took, from the deck of Water's Edge, a great little double-wide we rented on the bay in Sequim. If I squinted, I could see the Dungeness Lighthouse off to the left.

The background is, alas, not my photo. But I have seen such skies.

And I want to see more.

I didn't even know I had a summer wish - and suddenly, there it is. Sometimes, writing is magic. It leads me to things that were lurking under the surface of the buzzy, to-do, "is everything gonna be okay" filled mind I usually scurry around with.

This thing - this until-now undiscovered summer wish:

I want to look at the sky.

I want to lay on the ground and just -

Look.
Up.
Quietly.

I think that is the medicine I need.
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Sunday, June 13, 2010

did I just meditate?

I had a very intense moment yesterday morning, standing at the bathroom counter. I was feeling so burdened and stressed and weary and frustrated and angry...

So I took a deep breath to send off a prayer - and before I could articulate my desire, the stress was gone. I was light as a happy cloud. I could feel pink, warm, comfy compassion swirling around me. It was kind of unnerving - mostly because I hadn't even "said" my prayer yet - so all the burden came back. I felt it physically settle back down onto me.

All of this, above, happened in what was probably 20 to 30 seconds, max, in "real" time - but it seemed to take much longer.

I tried again - I remembered that I'd just taken a deep breath when the freedom came - so I did that again. And it happened again. Then I tried to articulate some words in my mind, and the stress came back. So I just breathed again - freedom.

It was heavenly. It lasted for maybe 2 beautiful, happy, floating minutes. Then I had to come out of the bathroom and be with other people, and life of course came back.

But man. That 2 minutes was amazing.

Is this what you all aspire to, meditators? Someone tell me more, please.

'Cause I need a little piece .... whoa. I meant to write "peace" but the other word came out - wonder what that means? I need a piece of change? piece of heaven? a little corner of the sky?

I have a disabled husband. An amazing son who may need special ed services of some kind. I have so little money.

My shoulders are tired.

Maybe I'll get another 2 minutes of peace today.



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Friday, June 4, 2010

American stories...

I got to vocal coach at Jack Straw this morning. Students from Foster HS in Tukwila - all recent immigrants, all extraordinary poets.

Poems about their lives. About a father being killed in what used to be the green garden of Afghanistan, where the streets now run red with blood.

About being a witness to a woman being raped in Somalia and now unable to walk.

About missing the clean clear cold waters of home, and a grandmother left in Nepal.

And they are teenagers... relating these unbelievably heart-rending stories, and then getting excited to edit them on the Mac.

My life, as a middle-class white American = CAKE.

These are stories we ALL need to hear - they are our future, these young people. They have lived through things we wince at when we see them in movies.

I am humbled, grateful. Trying to pay attention.

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Monday, April 12, 2010

dinner conversations with a five, going on six, year old...

Son: When I'm big, I'm not going to high school.

Me: Where are you going to go?

Son: Kindergarten! When I'm little!

Me: What about when you're big?

Son: I'm not going to high school.

Me: What are you going to do?

Son: Stay home! Every day!

Me: What are you going to do at home?

Son: Play games, on pbskids.org, and read my books, and play with my toys, and look at pictures, and look at flowers, and eat pizza.

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Sunday, March 28, 2010

Eloquent editorial -

I have been surprised and happy at all the comments from Facebook friends about my last posting (my posts here show up there as notes).

In a rare instance last week, I wrote that post in a moment of real outrage and passion. I usually tend to wait until I'm thoughtful and less emotional to post. Interesting, that.

Below is a link to a smart, well-written, opinion from Frank Rich about the events of the past week. I really liked it, and wanted to share.

For me, I keep thinking that it's good to be a part of history. I keep telling myself to pay attention. As some of you know, I've been fantasizing for some time about moving to Vashon Island. It seems a safe harbor, a quiet green refuge in the midst of turbulent times. And then I read Mr. Rich, and wonder if that's a cop-out somehow - if I should instead stay where I am, in hyper-diverse south Seattle, and dig in for the long haul.

More will be revealed.

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/28/opinion/28rich.html



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Monday, March 22, 2010

disgraceful and shameful behavior - some of you so-called Americans should be ashamed of yourselves.

So. I have tried to avoid it to just enjoy the good news, but I can't ignore anymore after watching the nightly news.

American citizens shouting the n word at our elected representatives, representatives who already lived through one civil rights movement.

Other elected representatives holding up signs egging on their demonstrators, signs saying Kill the Bill.

Rush Limbaugh saying "We have to wipe all of them out."

I know and love some Republicans, they are among my beloved family and some friends. Please, if you are one, denounce this appalling behavior. Call your representative and tell them this is not okay. It's one thing to disagree, one thing to debate, one thing to protest - but this is just disgraceful.

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Healthcare for all!!! Yay Yay Yay Yay!!!

I know there is much work to be done - hurdles, battles, etc etc... but I also have to shout it out - at some point soon I will conceivably be able to buy health insurance for my husband and myself. Coverage that is real. Not the kind with an $8000 deductible.

The insurance companies will not be able to say "No, you have too many issues. We can't cover you, people with actual illness. That might cut into our profit margin!"

We will be able to have coverage. Maybe not for a few years, I know - but the last time something this significant changed it was likely the start of Medicare. Civil rights legislation. Where would we be today if those had not been pushed through? I am hopeful, at least a tiny bit, today. Like I was a year or so ago.

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Saturday, March 20, 2010

FB Email Internet Hiatus Interruptus?

I half jestingly wrote this yesterday:

"I am on the verge of a FB hiatus..."

And now I can't stop thinking about it. I know a woman, I'd like to call her a friend because she's so cool, although we did not have much close time together, who took this whole year off the internet. She has two young kids, and a husband with a job I think, and she's a writer and director and thinker - and she took a year off. To write and as she stated herself, get some PR spin.

I was just thinking that I should take a month off - then I started not knowing when. I mean, I work for myself right now. I find and do my work online, most of the time. So, I could drop all personal email and FB stuff, right?

But what is personal these days?

I write and perform, and I go see other writers and performers. And I find out about all the stuff, and share all my stuff, on FB.

And I find out about my family, too, on there.

So maybe not a month.

Maybe just a week. I think I could try that.

As an experiment. I want to see how I feel, how I think, if I'm not logging in here and there and everywhere, and chatting virtual chats with virtual friends who are thousands of miles away.

In the Artists Way series, the authors instruct the participants to take a week off of reading. I remember that - it was astonishing.

I'm going to take a week off email and FB and websites and all internet communications - maybe even a week off my computer entirely. I'm not sure when, I do actually have to look at the work calendar for that. But I'll announce, on FB most likely. 'Cause that's what I do these days, it seems.

But I will do it. I think.

I think I can.

I think I can.

I think I can.

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Saturday, March 6, 2010

Today. Just today.

I just read my friend Morgan's post on her wonderful Lucky Break Queue blog, and it was a wonderful way to start the day. She captures so lovingly the joy in life, and make me think about my goal for today.

Today, I hope to enjoy my life just as it is.

The "sin" that has troubled me much of my life is envy - wishing I had something I felt I lacked. Even now. I have such an amazing son. I adore him. He is the brightest light in the entire universe. And. Sometimes I wish I was still single and childless, and could in fact go to India (or Europe, again, or just Spain, or Greece, or...)

It doesn't really matter what I have or who I am - all my life, I've wished for something slightly different. For me, the journey seems to be about loving life right now, just as it is, and that includes loving the part of me that wishes for something else.

For a few brief, early years (like the ones 4 and 5) I wanted to be a veterinarian (not sure why, I wasn't in love with animals - I think it was just a cool thing to wanna be) and then Miss America. Then, at 8, I knew I wanted to be an actress. Actor. Whatever. That desire stayed constant, until maybe 5 years ago. My whole life.

And funnily enough, it allowed me to always dance with some other part of me. Most recently, Emily Dickinson - childless, single recluse. Lovely.

I was just thinking about acting this morning, and doing Belle of Amherst. It was so easy. Not to jinx it ('cause I think we're doing it again) - but I really didn't work very hard at all. Just memorizing the lines, really. Then I just got on stage and said them. So much easier than it used to be. So much less worry and ego and push.

Interesting, that.


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Monday, March 1, 2010

Cleaning House

As I posted yesterday, I got up the courage and found the clarity to put in my request for a Lucky Break.

I just went to read that blog that I am quickly falling in love with, and found a wonderful post about moon magic.

It inspired me to think about this time, now, and what I can do to help myself, my life, my dreams.

I can clean. My house, my inner self, my habits, my whatever-it-is that has been keeping me stuck. Spring is on the way, and now is a ripe and good time to help myself grow, so I can blossom soon.

So I am. I started exercising, a tiny bit but at least something, a few days ago. I'll do so again today.

On Saturday, I'm going to see a friend who is training to be a hypnotherapist.

I have another friend who is training to be a personal coach, and she has invited me to work with her several times - and I've always been too busy, too overwhelmed.

And oddly judgmental, like somehow personal coaching was for a fancier life; I'm concerned with survival here, goddamnit!

But who am I to judge growth, in any form? Who am I to turn away from helping hands of any sort?

My personal growth, my spiritual life, used to be at the forefront of my existence. I attended to it on a daily basis.

Then I got married. Then I had a baby.

And I'm grateful for both of those beings in my life. But it's time to attend, once again, to my own inner house. Time to clean for no reason other than it will help me, help me feel better, clearer, stronger.

I am willing to do the work. I think. And immensely grateful for at least a little chink in the armor of defiance and overwhelm I've allowed to grow around me.

Small steps. Clean house.

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Sunday, February 28, 2010

The Lucky Break Queue

My friend has created an amazing blog, and I just sent out a prayer on it... check it out! And send out a request of your own if you are moved to.

http://theluckybreakqueue.blogspot.com/

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Friday, February 19, 2010

Thank You for listening

Prayer answered.

Energy somewhat returned. Focus better. Some work completed. Not all, but a measurable amount.

Best of all - self-esteem slightly improved.

It's wondrous. Admit difficulty, call for help - and things change.

I have such a luxurious life.

Thank You.

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Tuesday, February 16, 2010

failure, procrastination, failure

they are dogging me these days.

And I would like this part of things to be over now, please.

I go to bed at night and think like I used to when I was twelve, or sixteen, or twenty-one.

"Tomorrow will be different. I will be different. I will exercise. I will eat right. I will do what I am supposed to do. I will lose weight. I will be beautiful. I will win the lottery. I will be rich. I will have the fantasy life I deserve..."

I signed up for a Coaching thing online. They sent me a few little tweaky notes, like, "Maria... a gentle reminder..."

I do not like gentle reminders. I rear my inner head at them, like a racehorse flaring its elegant nostrils, full of disdain.

I am obstinate and defiant and it is getting profoundly uncomfortable.

Help, please. I need a dose of focus and willingness to change. I don't really need any more excuses. Yes, I have some things on my plate. A son, a husband, too many tiny part-time work things that I mostly want to avoid. Yes, my husband has his stuff, and my son is five and in school a grand total of 12 hours a week, yes, yes, yes. And.

People work. I need to work. I have work to do. Work people will pay me for. I cannot avoid it. I am not rich. Last I checked, I did not win the lottery. I am not 12 anymore. I will never be an Olympic athlete. I will likely never be a movie star. And all the fantasizing in the world will not lead to change, if action does not accompany it.

So I put out my call to the universe, to god and goddess and spirit and all my ancestors -

please, change me. Help me change. Give me the focus and strength to follow a path, any path that you point me towards. At least help me exercise. Help me write for money tomorrow, at least for a little bit, and then the next day, too. Take the wasting time away from me. Help me be of service.

Please and Thank You, Aho and Amen.

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Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Emily, Emily, Wherefore Art Thou Emily?

I have to go learn some lines. Because I am in a play. A big play. For the first time in many, many years...

and sometimes I loathe it. Sometimes I want nothing more than to stay at home on my couch, preferably under a big warm blanket, and hide away... sometimes I want a life wrapped right up in nice soft cotton wool, where edge don't exist and it's just-right warm and muscles don't ache even when not active, where everything and me just drift and drift...

I think opium does that. I don't know. That's just what I've heard. I think it's much less appealing, that drift, from the outside point of view.

What is it about challenge that makes retreat so appealing?

I do not stay on the couch.

I push off, eat food, shower or bathe, brush teeth, drive the car to rehearsal - and usually, while there, I have a very good time.

Emily. Would she have hidden away from the world today?

Would she have been on Facebook?

Have hundreds of friends?

Why does he give so much away, the playwright? Why tell all the secrets of this most private and secretive woman? Why did he do that?

Perhaps he got them all wrong.

What do You know about Emily Dickinson? Tell me. Please.

Oh, and come see my play, if you would. January 22 through February 6. I expect by then I shall be The Belle of Amherst...

more details you may find on:

http://www.soundtheatrecompany.org/

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