Thursday, June 14, 2012

The Little Lake



Jerry and Berry were two very close friends, as close as two bloodhounds could be. Jerry loved Berry's bark and ability to sniff out the smallest morsels of food. Berry loved Jerry's way of finding the best shelter in a storm and how Berry always knew when to stop eating before they would get sick. Berry and Jerry went everywhere together, always leaning up against each other. When Jerry stopped, Berry would veer sharply to the right, having been held up by Jerry for so long. The two would come back together and Berry would then lean to the left into Jerry. One of them would stop and the other would veer. They would switch sides and continue this way until neither had a side they were more comfortable with than another. When they walked for long periods of time without veering, they sometimes no longer felt like two separate beings. This was nice. It was worth all the veering back and forth and having to switch sides to feel that comfortable.

One day, after stopping to rest for several hours. Berry jumped up and asked Jerry, "Where do you want to go next?" Jerry shot up with excitement to start the new journey, "I want to go to the river!" Berry barked with excitement and spun in a circle, ready for adventure. Jerry sat back down, "it's a little cold right now though, in a few weeks the river will be the perfect temperature." Jerry remained seated with resolve to stay put. Berry ran off a few steps and stopped, waiting for Jerry to join. Jerry didn't move. Berry ran in a large circle, tongue hanging out, taking in the sun. Berry came back to where Jerry was sitting, panting and grinning; Jerry was still sitting, looking off into the distance. Berry walked over and sat next to Jerry, the two hounds leaned into each other.

They slept a little, they rolled around in the sun, and they talked about all the places they wanted to go. Berry wanted to go to the big lake where all the other dogs were. "The big lake, to play with all of the other dogs?" asked Berry. Jerry considered then gave a head shake, "let's go to the little lake. You always get too excited and drink too much water and get sick. The little lake will be better for us." Berry knew that Jerry sometimes knew better, so Berry started walking towards the little lake. Jerry started walking that direction as well. They touched shoulders and leaned into each other, falling into pace with their familiar walk, both forgetting themselves in what came so naturally. Berry had the urge to go faster, but would feel Jerry start to fall when doing so. Berry kept pace and stayed with Jerry. After an hour, Jerry sat down. Noticing the sun going down Jerry said, "We can go in the morning. The little lake will be very nice in the morning." Berry lay down to sleep and Jerry stared off in the direction of the big lake.

Berry woke just as the sun was inching over the horizon and saw that Jerry was still sitting up, looking off into the distance. Jerry looked down at Berry, "you go on to the little lake. I need to stay here." Berry was surprised, they always went places together. Jerry insisted, "you go, have fun." Berry smiled. Jerry was always concerned about Berry being happy and that was nice. Berry barked, Jerry smiled, and Berry turned and ran towards the little lake. Berry ran the whole way, tongue wagging in the open air, speeding towards the little lake.

As Berry approached the little lake, the sun was reflecting of the water and into Berry. It was warm and bright and happy. Berry liked it there and ran around the edge of the lake, investigating it from every angle. Berry drank from the lake and met some of the other animals, although very few of them were dogs. Some of the animals were jumping in the lake and swimming. Berry wanted to, but Jerry was alone and Berry was worried. Berry took one last lap around the lake and then started back to where Jerry was.

Berry ran the whole way back and found Jerry where they had spent the night. Jerry was just getting up from lying down and seemed to have been sleeping. Jerry saw Berry and smiled, Berry smiled back and barked. Jerry barked. They looked at each other for a moment and then Berry went and sat next to Jerry. They leaned into one another and fell back into that comfort they each loved so much. They slept throughout the most of the night. Just before dawn, Berry half-woke from a bad dream and whimpered. Jerry, without waking, reached out a paw and touched Berry on the top of the head. Berry calmed and Jerry leaned in closer. They both went back to sleep.

The next morning, Berry awoke with excitement at what the day would bring. Jerry was up and staring off towards the little lake. Berry barked and ran off to find them some food. Berry returned and they ate. They walked a little ways together in the direction of the little lake, but did not get very far before Jerry wanted to sit again. Jerry sat and breathed deep. Berry sat too, leaning against Jerry. After a while Jerry looked to Berry and insisted he go to the little lake alone again. Berry wanted them to go together but Jerry would not go.

Berry ran to the little lake again, this time with a little less enthusiasm. When Berry got to the lake some of the other animals recognized and came to talk to Berry. There were more dogs at the lake today and they introduced themselves to Berry. They all played together, although Berry was a bit timid and almost felt guilty for having fun without Jerry. Berry even got into the water and swam a little, but not very far out and not for long. Time passed quickly while Berry was at the lake and soon it was time to return to Jerry.

Berry ran the whole way back and found Jerry exactly where they had been before. Again, Jerry was just sitting up and looked to have been sleeping. They smiled at each other, happy to once again be together. Berry sat and leaned into Jerry. They rested against each other and laughed and talked until they slept. They slept leaning against one another and they both enjoyed how good that felt.

The next morning, Berry woke again to find Jerry was already up. Jerry encouraged Berry to go to the little lake. Berry really wanted Jerry to go too, but Jerry could not be persuaded. Berry went to the little lake again without Jerry. The other animals had become friends to Berry and they all played together. Berry had fun, but was always worried about Jerry being alone. Berry never stayed as long at the little lake as the other animals for want to return to Jerry. Berry liked being with Jerry and didn’t mind leaving the new friends so they could be together. Berry wished Jerry could meet the new friends and play with them all together.

For quite some time did things continue this way, Berry going to the little lake alone and Jerry staying behind. Everyday Berry would have fun at the lake, but be worried for Jerry at the same time. Everyday Berry would return to where Jerry was and they would spend the nights together and they would enjoy it, as they got along so well.

One night Berry asked why Jerry never went to the little lake. Jerry said, “I’m not sure I even want to go to the lake anymore.” Berry asked many questions about the lake and what Jerry wanted, but Berry never fully understood what Jerry was trying to say. Berry would try to understand, Berry would always try. Jerry could see the concern in Berry’s eyes and said, “You should still go to the little lake though. If the little lake makes you happy than I want you to go as much as you want.” Berry smiled, touched at Jerry’s concern. Jerry wanted Berry to be happy at the little lake and that made Berry happy.

The two leaned in and relaxed into one another once again. They were dozing off together as Berry suddenly sat straight up, looking off into nothing, head cocked to one side. Jerry looked up at Berry, but said nothing. Berry was silent for a long moment, still looking off into nothing. Finally, Berry spoke.

“Jerry… I wanted to go to the big lake.”


Saturday, June 9, 2012

warrior/poet

I was recently reminded of the words of the warrior/poet, Shan Yu. Only a few will know who he is with out the aid of an internet search engine. Anyway, the words were something akin to knowing someone for decades and never really meeting them until that person is faced with death. The actual quote is rather biased in gender and less applicable, so I won't quote it directly.

I understand the concept and could find myself in agreement on some occasions, depending on the person in question. I mostly disagree with the concept, though. My version of that quote would start something like:

"In the first year of knowing someone, they will tell you everything about who they are."

Then I have two possible follow ups. The first:

"The wise person listens and accepts that as truth."

The second:

"They will then spend the rest of their life trying to convince you that is not who they are."

I find that a lot of relationships are a mixture of both. One person deciding not to see faults and the other trying to be something other than who they are. Now, these are subconscious issues. Were they not, they would just simply be lying. Which, unfortunately is the basis of too many relationships. I don't mean lying to hide secrets or infidelities. I mean the really damaging lies. Like, "I respect your decision" and "I support you in whatever you decide to do."

Those are altruistic ideas, but lies none the less. You may want to support someone in everything they do, but as soon as they do something you think is not the best choice for them, you have two choices. The first is to step up and say what you feel. That you think what they are doing is a bad idea, a poor choice, a chicken-shit cop-out. The second is to go with the other damaging lie, "I respect your decision." Most people, unfortunately choose what's behind door number two. Then, every time the subject arrises, they must swallow everything they are feeling and wanting to say for fear of being caught in their lie. It is a wicked, wicked cycle. One I am increasingly surprised to find a lot of people I know stuck in.

This cycle is born out of two bad habits. One, thinking that you know better than others. Two, being afraid of being alone. Two things we are guilty of.

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

We shouldn't have given women or African Americans the right to vote.

You know what I take issue with? Giving people rights. I think its an antiquated idea. We shouldn't give homosexuals the right to marry. We shouldn't have given women or African Americans the right to vote. Giving people rights is absolute bullshit. We should RECOGNIZE people's rights, not be doling them out from some albino fat-cats up on high. It's time for the U.S. to own up to its mistakes and say "Yes we were wrong to deprive you of any rights, ever. We recognize that now." Instead, it comes off as under-served groups finally being good enough to join all the white guys. It's like letting the token black guy into your country club. Doesn't make your club any less despicable. This mentality, I believe, is a large contributor to the continuing inequality in this country. It's time to recognize this behavior and put an end to it.

This rant was brought to you by the meme I saw this morning, featuring two sheepish women, proclaiming "On this day in 1919, congress passed the 19th amendment that gave women the right to vote."

And yes, I purposely did not capitalize "congress" or "amendment". When either are deserving of it I will begin to capitalize them. Until then, it is my act of dissent. Quite ineffective and petty, but mine just the same.

Monday, June 4, 2012

Endings...

I sometimes have trouble identifying beginnings. I see endings crystal clear and can easily point them out in my life and in the lives of others. I know they are one and the same, endings and beginnings. I just forget that... in the moment. Once I remember I always feel much more at peace. I still mourn the ending, but am somewhat comforted knowing that the beginning is beyond.

Now I sit here and think... what is beginning that I cant see yet?

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

All good things......

All good things must come to an end. Right? That's what the proverbial they say, right? I can accept that, I'm okay with that. Even if it is kind of sad, I'm okay with that.

What about mediocre things? Do they just go on forever? Finish this sentence, "All things that are barely satisfactory must..."

A quick scan of my surroundings tells me that the end of that sentence is "perpetuate and multiply." Why is tolerable the norm in our society? Many years ago, I learned, from my brother, the meaning of "tilting at windmills" and I have endeavored to do so ever since, (with a few temporary lapses in motivation over the years). I'm not saying I've transcended mediocrity, alas I am firmly entrenched in it. Though, I am not content with being there and every day I rage against the dying of the light, to speak in borrowed cliche.

I do seem to be the odd one out in this. I see others around me putting half their heart (or ass) into their work and being content with lackluster results. I have in no way perfected my craft(s), but I do always look for what I could have done better and try to improve. I set standards for myself I can't possibly reach. Not from masochistic desire, but because it forces me to continually try to excel. I forget, at times, that not everyone feels the same as I. I see my peers struggling to achieve average and forget they don't have the same standards and therefore should not be judged as someone who wants to succeed.

My promise to you is, if there actually is a 'you' reading this, I will no longer expect others to be good at what they do. I will no longer expect others to want to be good at what they do. I will bask in the tepid glow of the mediocre. I will be pleasantly surprised when someone breaches the threshold average. I will find creative ways to compliment without actually commenting on the work. I will simply smile and show my appreciation for what others do, much the same way you smile at your neighbor when he's walking his one-eyed, three-legged dog.

Saturday, April 28, 2012

Wide Eyed Productions presents: A Girl Wrote It 2012



Wide Eyed Productions presents: A Girl Wrote It 2012

Wide Eyed Productions, now in its fifth season, has brought back its festival of female playwrights entitled A Girl Wrote It (AGWI). For the sake of full disclosure, it should be said that my work was presented by Wide Eyed as part of a the original A Girl Wrote It last season. The evening is presented in support of the 50/50 in 2020 project, an effort to increase the 17% of plays produced written by women to 50% by the year 2020.
Wide Eyed has been producing solid work for years and has returned to the venue where it all started, the Richmond Shepard Theater located at 309 East 26th Street, NYC. The show runs Thur, Fri, Sat @ 8pm and Sundays @ 3pm. Tickets are reasonably priced at $18.00.
The evening features nine short pieces by seven playwrights. Each has their own style and unique take on life, love, relationships and loss. The evening's line up:
Being Late
By - Judith Goudsmit
Yes
By Bekah Brunstetter
Bologna Sandwiches
By Erin Singleton
Penicillin
By Deirdre O’Connor
Jeans
By Liz Magee
Early Michigan
By Heather Lynn MacDonald
Robot
By Judith Goudsmit
Posing
By Laura Maria Censabella
Stones Fall, Birds Fly
By Laura Maria Censabella
Goudsmit, Singleton & Magee have written smart and poignant monologues that serve as transitions between the longer works. Liz White begins the night with the apt opener, Being Late, a perfect match of writer and actor as White has the energy and chops to sell Goudsmit's deep and idiosyncratic humor. Amy Lee Pearsall performs Singleton's monologue with a magnetism that brings life to the charm and pain of Bologna Sandwiches. Carly Knight ably portrays the disenchanted and frustrated humor to Magee's Jeans while Savvy Clement gives an impressively haunting performance of Goudsmit's Robot.
While each of these monologues entertains and provokes, AGWI's short plays are the larger attraction of the evening. Bekah Brunstetter's Yes is a witty microcosm of relationships that will tickle even the most bitterly jaded. The cast, Andrew Harris and Sarah Cook, are both that rare sort of actor that can nail comic timing and never lose a moment of honesty. Ali Scaramella and Michael Komala show the pitfalls of being young and single with performances that delight in Deirdre O'Connor's Penicillin. Heather Lynn MacDonald provides the most thoughtful piece of the evening with Early Michigan. The script provides opportunity for actors to shine and Sky Seals, Lisa Mamazza, Patrick Bonck & Judy Merrick seize it. 
The final two pieces of the evening are by Wide Eyed's Resident Playwright, Laura Maria Censabella. Nate Faust and Dana Mazzenga offer two of the strongest performances of the evening in Posing and bring integrity to characters that might be dismissed as caricatures in the hands of lesser actors. The last piece of the evening, Stones Fall, Birds Fly, is peformed by Curzon Dobell and is worth the wait. Dobell's natural charisma enriches a beautifully written piece that had me floating out of the theater.
There are limitations to the production and the space, but nothing that detracts from the evening. Opinions may vary as to what piece is more enjoyable than others, but one aspect of AGWI is undeniable. The collective talent of the actors involved in A Girl Wrote It is not to be missed. Treat yourself to this night of talented writers and amazing performances!

Thursday, March 1, 2012

Summer Wind



The song Summer Wind just came on. It’s a great song but holds a little different meaning for me than it might for others. (sings)  “My fickle friend, the summer wind” may invoke a nice stroll in Central Park for some. Or the wind coming of the water at Coney Island for others. Not for me, it’s something quite different. You see, I come from the desert and summer is a different beast for my people. I’ve lived in the city for the last seven years so I don’t experience the sensation much anymore, but last week while making some dinner, I turned on the oven, for the first time in months, to preheat. I forgot I had turned it on and was doing other things and it was about a half hour before I got back to the oven. I grabbed the pan of spinach/potato pancakes and bent over to put them in the oven. I opened the door and that wave of heat wafted out and covered my face, making me do that half-shrug, close-your-eyes turn away. And I thought of home. That’s what a summer wind is like for us. Growing up, that was the sensation every day when opening the door to leave home. Well, if there were several extremely high wattage bulbs inside of the oven it would have been the same sensation, it was blindingly bright in the summers growing up. I think I got my first pair of sunglasses when I was six or seven. Not for any sense of style or a desire to be cool, it was out of necessity.  Now I forget to wear them. It gets bright in the city sometimes, but nothing compared to what it was like back then.
When I was in my twenties I went to work in restaurants, like you do. I worked with a lot of people from all over theworld and I did my time in the kitchen as well as in the front of the house. I use to stand next to this huge conveyor belt oven for hours on end. The heat blasting from it reminded of my childhood and made the job much more bearable than it should have been. I’d take things out of the oven and put them in the pass through window, under heat lamps. Every now and then, when missing the proper utensils, I would grab pans with my bare hands and pull them quickly out of the oven. Or grab a plate that had been under the heat lamp for ten minutes without thinking twice. It took a while for me to realize that other people in the kitchen would wince as I did things like this. Apparently this was not normal. My early years in the desert seemed to have helped me develop some sort of extraordinary ability, my own quirky little super power, if you will. The summer winds have conditioned me, I can stand the heat.
(sings to herself as she exits)
The summer wind came blowin in, from across the sea
It lingered there, so warm and fair, to walk with me
All summer long, we sang a song and strolled on golden sands
mmm-mm, mm the summer wind
Like painted kites, those days and nights, went flying by
The world was new, beneath a blue umbrella sky
Then softer than a piper man, one day it called…
(beat)
mmm-mm, mm the summer wind