Art Imitates Life and Vice Versa

I don't always believe in a higher plan. Sometimes I think life is just random and how we deal with it sets up the next chain in a sequence of events and more random stuff as it comes along.  Sometimes though I am struck by certain "coincidences" that happen. There are times when I look around and know that everything I am has prepared me for this particular moment.

Doing theatre is like that for me sometimes. I can not say that I haven't learned something from just about every play I've ever done. Sometimes the "aha" moment comes in just the audition, as I experienced when I auditioned for 100 Saints You Should Know.  There is a monologue where the character I wanted to play talks about loneliness. At some point delivering that monologue it stopped being the character and started being me. It was my heart I was laying open for everyone to see. But I got to hide behind the character, so it was safe.

I played a father in Brighton Beach Memoirs when I was wondering if I'd be a good father. I'm not sure if the play came to me, or I came to the play with that one.  I did You Can't Take it With You at a time when I was trying to learn to lighten up. The Laramie Project was one that left me heartbroken every night, but it also spurred me to political action.  I played Mel in The Prisoner of Second Avenue and delivered a couple of monologues which foreshadowed my own experience of being fired from a job I'd given my life to.

This list goes on and on. I don't know if the audience walks away with new found understandings of anything, but as an actor, I certainly do.

So now I'm in the most timely play of my life. It's a new work called Saint Paulie's Delight.  I play Paul, one half of the couple, Paul and Oscar. The two of them have been together for twenty years and now the state in which they live has just passed marriage equality.  Something they never anticipated when they got together twenty years earlier. Now Paul wants to get married and begins planning the wedding to end all weddings. Everything is perfect until Oscar drops the bombshell that he doesn't want to get married. He likes things just like they are.

What I love about the script is that it takes an honest look at relationships and the whole picture. I won't tell you everything because you should come see it, but there are some lines where I stop and think "wow, that's so true."   It's so easy to get caught up in the "right to marry" fight that we sometimes forget that not everyone needs that. Not everyone wants to conform to expectations of the norm.

I believe we should have the right to marry and the right to decide not to marry if that's what we choose.

So, how does this play affect me like the others? The other night when we were running it, I found myself holding back tears as Oscar tells Paul he doesn't want kids and that if Paul does, he should go out and find someone who wants that too.

I never really thought I wanted kids. The whole notion terrifies me, but hearing those words, even if they are in a script and said to my character and not me, makes me very sad.  Personally I'm more like Oscar in this play, as I don't want to bend to societal norms, but for a moment each night I find myself wanting the same thing Paul wants.  I want kids and a family. I want a white picket fence,  soccer practice, and a nosy neighbor to watch Wheel of Fortune with.

Who knew?

A Revolution

    

"Do you hear the people sing?

Singing a song of angry men?
It is the music of a people
Who will not be slaves again!

When the beating of your heart

Echoes the beating of the drums

There is a life about to start

When tomorrow comes!"

~Les Miserables

I'm awake tonight wondering what tomorrow will bring. Today the US Supreme Court made a ruling that set voter's rights back four decades. Tonight, a filibuster is happening in the Texas Senate over a woman's right to choose.  Tomorrow the US Supreme Court will announce it's ruling on the Defense of Marriage Act and California's Prop 8. It could be a big day for or against gay rights. 

I worry. Not over one issue in particular, but of the way government has become so out of touch with the people of the United States.  We are a society ruled by the most part by rich, old white men who don't know what it's like to be stopped from voting, marrying the person they love, or having to make a decision to end a pregnancy.  They don't seem qualified to make the decisions they have put themselves in power to decide. 

I worry that the people will rise and take back the government. I worry about this because it's going to be a bloody war that must be fought if we are ever to regain our country. 

"Will you join in our crusade?
Who will be strong and stand with me?
Beyond the barricade
Is there a world you long to see?

Then join in the fight
That will give you the right to be free!"

We are not victims and we will rise up and overcome. It's how America was born and how it will be reborn. 

God Doesn't Hate F*gs; We Do That On Our Own

The thing about writing a blog, is not everything I write gets published. A lot of it stays in a draft folder. Sometimes it's because the idea isn't fully formed and sometimes it's because I'm afraid what I have to say will be so misinterpreted that I decide not to put it out there. The following is one I wrote over a year ago. I've written several along this line because I don't think the truth really gets revealed much in this area. Most of those entries remain in the draft folder.

If you're a gay man, you may recognize the feelings expressed here, but we don't talk about them, because they might perpetuate the stereotypes we're trying to deny exist.

A friend of mine published a novel not too long ago in which one of the lead characters is a not-so-sympathetic gay man.  The book is called Well With My Soul by Gregory G. Allen. I won't give away the plot, but as I said, one of the main characters is not so nice.  This morning, Greg sent me a link to a review he saw that called him homophobic because the gay character isn't portrayed in a positive manner.  I actually found that part refreshing.  Let's face it, not all gay men are nice!  Some are assholes! 

I know, I know... Gay Pride!  We're all supposed to like each other and support each other and all that crap.  We stand united against the Bible beating politicians and we tell kids "It Get's Better."   Yes, kids, it does get better because you get stronger.  You learn how to fight and you learn that you're worth more than anyone will tell you, and you certainly will NOT learn that lesson in a bar, a bath house, or a Gay Pride parade.  You will learn that by having loving supportive friends around you.  Some may be gay; some may be straight. 

In a brief history of the gay rights movement, the police harassed us, the drag queens stood up to them, we made headway and then AIDS came, wiped many of us out, we stood up again, got Don't Ask Don't Tell, got knocked back a bit, pushed forward and made headway with gay marriage.  More backlash. Forward movement.

Externally, we've made progress. Internally, we're just as divided as ever. Look at the makeup of the large gay rights organizations. Predominately white. Predominately good looking.  Predominately affluent. 

I decided not to finish, or publish this because it seemed angry and homophobic.  Angry, yes. Homophobic, no. The truth is, we don't treat each other very well. I hear women say sometimes that they would love to have a gay best friend because we are all fabulous.  No, we're not ladies.  Not all of us.  We can be bitchy, judgmental, offensive, and arrogant....all under the excuse that we're gay and we have the right to be that way.  We are FABULOUS! It's our birthright.  Actually it makes us no better than Ann Coulter or the Westboro Baptist Church. Hate is hate, regardless of who is spewing it.

If you're gay and you're white, slim, under thirty, and a have a few dollars in your pocket, I don't expect you to understand any of this.  This may not be your experience...yet.  If you're not white, over thirty, not slim, or struggling like the rest of America, I think you might have a clue as to what I'm saying.  You've experienced that feeling of being invisible in a crowded room. It's a lonely existence.

This month, as we've deemed it Gay Pride Month, can we maybe do something we can actually feel proud of? Can we treat each other with a little respect and dignity? There are many wonderful people already doing this, but there are just as many, if not more, who could use the time to catch up.  Let's show the world that adversity has made us better people. Let's show the world that we are people of all shapes, sizes, colors, economic brackets, etc...

Just be nicer to each other. Recognize the human condition that is all of us, gay, straight and everywhere in between.

Glass or Rubber...You Decide

When we're kids, or in our early teens, we can't wait to be an adult. You can do what you want. Go where you want. No one tells you what you can and can't do. Oh, but how wrong we were......

Being an adult sucks sometimes.

Life can throw us some pretty gnarly shit and no one can take care of it, but us.  Unexpected job loss, the death of a loved one, a serious medical diagnosis. There are lots of things that can turn your life around on a dime, but it's how we deal with such things that either makes us stronger, or destines us to always feel like a victim.

I could get started on how we've become a society of victims, always offended by something, always blaming others, always feeling powerless, but that's another topic for another day.

When something shitty happens, we need to stop and regroup. It's probably the healthy thing to do, but it's not always easy to do.  Life doesn't stop because we lost our job, someone died, or we got a shitty diagnosis. Life just keeps on happening. The electric bill needs paid.  The dogs need fed. The kids have to go to school. We have to bathe.  All the usual responsibilities are still there.

There are times when I've had a rough day/week at work that I want to crawl into a hole and not be bothered....ever, but I can't.  I can unplug for a couple of hours, but I can't disappear from life....as much as I might want to. I can't turn into a fragile piece of glass sitting up on a shelf, where nothing touches me.

I don't know if I'm angry there is no one who will carry all my burdens so I don't have to, or grateful that I don't have to depend on someone to take care of me. I'm not a piece of glass. I'm more like rubber. I can bend further than I ever think I can stand, but then I always snap back eventually.

I may not be perfect at it, and sometimes it takes me a bit to figure out what I need to do to take care of me, but I've been doing it for a damned long time. Whitney Houston said learning to love yourself is the greatest love at all. I'd add taking care of yourself to that. It's the greatest skill I ever learned....after writing, of course.

The Big C- A Masterclass in Living

Three years ago I sat down to watch the premiere of a new Showtime original series, The Big C, with Laura Linney. I fell in love with both.  Last night I watched the final episode.

The story follows Cathy Jamison, a Minneapolis teacher, wife and mother who gets diagnosed with stage four melanoma. She's terminal. We watch as she moves through the stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.

Cathy begins doing the things she's always wanted to do. Not just a bucket list;  a new way of living. A more honest way. A way in which she truly appreciates the gift we all take for granted at one time or another:  life.
I won't give anything away, because if you haven't seen it, you should.

Last night's episode was the series finale.  This fourth season was a mini-season. Four hour-long episodes--each which tore my heart out of my chest. I won't spoil the ending, but you've probably figured it out.

So, I have often asked myself, why are you watching this show?  Haven't you dealt with enough cancer and death in your life? I could never really answer the question. Yes, the writing is amazing. The acting is out of this world, and well....I do love Laura Linney, but there was more.  It wasn't until last night when Cathy asked a Hospice nurse why she did the work she did and the nurse replied, "When people are close to dying, they open up like a flower."  I immediately began sobbing. That was the answer.

There is something beautiful in death. Something that strips us of all our worries, pressures, expectations. There is only that moment and that moment alone. It's the ultimate letting go. It's the one moment we will all share--regardless of the circumstances, the time, or the place.  We will all have that final moment when we let go.

Why do I call The Big C a masterclass in living? Because if we can remember what it all comes down to, maybe we can live a little lighter, worry a little less, love a little more and do what we were intended to do. Live life to it's fullest.

For this life, that's all there is.

A Great Time for Entrepreneurs

I read somewhere a few years ago that during a bad economy is the best time to start a new business. The risk is high and the stakes are higher, but the pay off is worth it. For some, working for oneself is the only viable option. If we've learned anything over the past few years, it's that the American worker is undervalued and the illusion of job security went by way of the Y2K bug.

When one usually thinks of opening a business, it's a brick and mortar type business--selling products or services. But now that entrepreneurial spirit is also alive and encouraged with artists.  When I say artists, I mean anyone creating something, be it a song, a piece of fiction, a photograph, a painting or a film.  That in large part is due to the advances in technology and showcases such as YouTube and Amazon.com.

This past week, something was done that was pretty groundbreaking. Two cancelled thirty year old television shows were brought back to life and have a new home online. I'm talking about the daytime dramas, All My Children and One Life to Live.

When ABC Television cancelled the two longtime sudsers about a year and a half ago, it looked like that was it.  The lights were going out in Pine Valley and Llanview. But no!  A new production company called Prospect Park bought the rights to the two shows and after an agonizing year or so, finally were able to bring the shows back together for presentation on the internet--where many are already viewing their favorite shows.  If this is successful, television networks better watch out. There's new competition in town and they don't have to play by the FCC rules.

This week when All My Children re-premiered, I had to watch.  I'll admit that I didn't have very high expectations. I envisioned choppy camera work, subpar writing, bad lighting--all the things that usually come from doing something on a low budget. Boy, was I surprised. Prospect Park was able to capture the look that was All My Children.  The sets are great. The actors are great. The writing is crisp and it has a faster, more edgy pace. And guess what? They aren't playing by the same FCC rules. Several characters said words they can't say on tv.  The most shocking was Angie Hubbard, played expertly by Debbie Morgan, saying "shit."   Now when she drops the F-bomb, I'll piss my pants (and they can say that now too).

Aside from the new life for AMC, independent film makers, and musicians, are finding YouTube to be a great place to produce a web series, show their films, or get their music heard.  Just as Amazon.com and Barnes & Noble are giving writers the tools to produce their work in ebook, or standard print form, and the opportunity to sell their work.  Sure, some of it might not be good, but the rules have all changed. Finally, the little guy can put something out without the big publishers censorship or marketing analysis telling us what we want to read. We know what we want to read, and finally we're able to get that sent right to our Kindles.

I have to say I like this new era.  It kindles that entrepreneurial spirit in me. That one that invokes the original American dream--if you work hard, you can enjoy the fruits of your success. I've never been afraid of hard work, but I want to control my destiny, not some corporate big wig who only sees me as a number.   Why should I be making him rich when I could be doing the same for me?

Making the Write Decisions

Writing fiction, like life, is in the choices we make. We want to make the "right" decisions and hopefully things will play out in a manner we find pleasing and comfortable, but that isn't always the case. Sometimes we make the "wrong" decisions, but we end up with a better story. Making the decisions is the first step.

If you've been reading this for any amount of time, you'll know I've been working on a novel. I finished the first draft a few years ago now, and I've been working on revising and editing ever since. I've done draft after draft. Cutting characters. Adding characters. Changing timelines. Upping the stakes. More description; less description. More dialogue; less dialogue. I've had beta readers read it. I've solicited feedback and got it. I've done more revising.  I've done everything except finish the damned thing. Why? Because a voice inside my head tells me it's not perfect.

What if I publish it and not everyone loves it?  What if it doesn't become a runaway best seller and outsell The Fifty Shades of Grey, or Harry Potter?  What if a reviewer says, "it's okay for a first novel."  These are all things I'm very likely going to have to face. The odds are not in my favor that I will outsell those hits. Odds are a reviewer won't think it's the next great american novel, but maybe someone will.

The point is, as some of my non-writer friends have pointed out, I'll never know if I don't put it out there. Flaws and all.

I can sit here and continue editing it until I'm dead. There will always be another way of telling the story.  Another author, or even me in three months, will always have an idea how this scene could have gone, or that character should have been. The story will continue changing as the writer's life changes, day by day.  At some point we (I) have to stop procrastinating in the name of perfection, and let it go.

There's always a chance the second novel will be the new great american novel.  I'll never know until I stop tinkering with the first.