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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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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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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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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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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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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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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