Pour Myself a Cup of Ambition

The whole idea of having a desk job had seemed the opposite of who she thought she was.

She looked around at all the others, wondering if they saw her playing her role, watching them watching her-to see if there were any cracks in the facade.

The notion of imposter syndrome was strong in her, except it was true.  She was the real imposter. 

The longer she stayed there, and talked to the others on the career ladder, in the cubicles, in the lunchroom and the hallways. She wasn't sure about her uniqueness anymore. Nobody else wanted to be there either.  Everyone else had a dream as well.

But she had lived hers.  She had been on the stage, she had been singing.  She had lived inside the music in a way that she couldn't find life anywhere else.

She wasn't sure that she was ever going to focus on getting a promotion, but she knew she was disappointed when she didn't get them.  The coffee wasn't her driving force, but it helped the mornings pass and it made her happy.

On the weekends, when she didn't drink it, she might spend the morning crying, which ruined her voice for singing for the rest of the day.  So she made sure to remember her ambition on the weekends, ambition not to become CEO of her company-but to SING.  Not even onstage again, but just to carry the music in her throat. In her mouth, it felt better than being kissed.  It felt like being loved.

Lost and Found

Lost and Found (to be continued)

Elyse, Ntozake and Maria

Three Giant Women of theater have passed away in the space of just a few days.

An influential director.

A playwright of African American women and expanded territories, opening her arms to inclusion of multiple communities. (For Black Girls who have Considered Suicide when the Rainbow is Enuf, a Choreopoem)

A playwright of Hispanic women, opening the theater walls to audiences to Fefu and her Friends.  Staging was nontraditional, taking people beyond a stage to different areas -seeing scenes in various order.

The world is better for them all.

1. https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2018/oct/24/elyse-dodgson-royal-court-theatres-international-director-dies
2. https://www.nytimes.com/2018/10/28/obituaries/ntozake-shange-is-dead-at-70.html
3. https://www.nytimes.com/2018/10/31/obituaries/maria-irene-fornes-dead.html

Ntozake Shange at the Dodge Poetry Festival, Sunday, October 21, 2018

Hallway of Fog

While walking to work, through a Glasshouse Hallway of Fog, I noticed some amazing visions that I will incorporate into ART.

On my way to work, I find many WONDERS in the early morning light.

Dreaming of Vila

Dreaming of Vila

Love Made Visible

Invisible Magic IS Love.

And "Love made visible" is the deeper mission of the Barter Theater.  When farmers couldn't offer money, they could offer things to pay for tickets. And then the actors got fed. 

A way of living as close to the bone as you can, and being happy, truly happy, in a circle of friends who are in the same situation. 

Much like the Fringe Theater, or all theater.

Mutual Admiration Society

The BEST situations are around Mutual Admiration Societies.

It might not always be equitable, but it is important to come from a place of respect and enjoyment of the other person's talents.  Winning an award, one should always be gracious and effusive in thanks.

Winning and maintaining friendships, it is important to determine comfort levels of communication, how to ensure that you've made a secure bond and how to keep it going.

Sometimes You Like the People

Either you like the People or the Process or the Product.

Sometimes, if you are lucky, it's all 3.

Here, it's the people.  It's a good, friendly office, not like 711, or at least different.  I'm not growing into my best self, like I am when I'm there, but there's still an opportunity for power & leadership. The process is pretty painless for the most part.  The product is nothing I see.

Oedipus was the process, mostly.  The people were lovely, except when Estelle would yell (of Arrested Development, of a 60 year career, of not having had anyone yell like Jeffrey Tambour, I know how Jessica Walters feels)

If the product is the money, its not even something I feel.  Just numbers on a screen, having to go back and forth.  Tetris with numbers, filling in all the spaces, paying bills as they fall. And there are always rows falling away.  Time lived and paid for.  And more time to come.  More paychecks falling down and away from me....

Falling Out and in Love with the Man(uscript)

Falling Out and in Love with the Man(uscript)

Sometimes it's good to be obsessed with your writing.

And then sometimes, it makes you sick with the intensity.

So it's good to be able to take a step back, and get back into your life. AND, you'd be amazed at how much easier it is to edit when you have a little perspective.

And then, when you get back into it, there's a lot of THERE there. Sure, trim away all the fat.  Lots of crap, but now it's easier to let go of it.

And I'm sure it'll be a cycle.  I need to get through this draft.  And then, rinse, repeat.

I'll forget again. But I'll fall in love again.

Readable Draft/SUNSET

I hope you are as fascinated by the novel writing process as I am.

I'm taking 2 classes (1 on Query Letters to Lit Agents and one on World Building in Fiction). Getting an editor lined up, workshopping one of the chapters.  Very exciting.

My goal this month is a readable draft.  I have the structure, and 250 pages of scenes, notes, and things to write.  I want to send out the first 50 pages to my editor asap.

I've published several short stories and plays, but getting together a giant chunk of something (with a full time job plus travel) is tremendously difficult. But rewarding!

Note: in the hotel rooms where I find myself focusing on the craft, I am MEZMERIZED by the sunsets.  I always get a room with a view so I can THINK!

NYC Doesn't Give A Fuck

You can have a life, a DEVOTION around the cult of NYC.  You can be its slave for years, trying to get it to love you back.

But it doesn't give a fuck.

You can starve, can live in a closet, can work 24/7, can work as a barista, can perform on Broadway.  you can make it there one day and feel like you are starting over the very next.

Other cities will welcome you back with open arms.  Embrace you like your Mom.  Alumnae returning to the geographies of their youth.  New York will be like, 'Oh, did you leave the party?"

Every neighborhood, every block is a new beginning.  You start from scratch, you reinvent yourself.  Hopefully smarter this time. 

You can go for years and never run into any of your previous friends, or selves.  And then you can spend 24 hours playing "This is your life", and seeing mirrors everywhere you go.

You can walk by the place of your depression, at your happiest future NOW, and NYC doesn't even blink.  It doesn't register you.  You do, however.

I Like The Escape

It feels like we only enter and exit.

We drive up to the parking lot, walk up to the doors.
And never soon enough, we walk down the stairs, carrying our burdens and laptops.

Start our cars like we start a race, and before you know it, we are back in the same parking spaces.