What is a “Weekend” for the Artist?

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Dowton’s Abbey’s Lady Grantham’s character was best summed up in her remark at the dinner table when she asked, “What . . . is a ‘weekend’?” Their dinner guest was a doctor – someone who actually worked for a living – and he confused the Dowager with this term.Lady Grantham While it made me laugh, I have been asking myself that same question all of my adult life. From the time I was in college I worked on the weekends to support my acting career. I envied “normal” people who brought home regular paychecks with enough left over to enjoy the weekend, which often included having brunch, where someone like me would serve them. I save my weekdays and weeknights for auditions and rehearsals. And of course, when I was in a show – I worked the weekends.

After awhile, I began to see that I was living a privileged life, not a deprived one. I could do all of my errands without having to beat a crowd. I could see a matinee on a Tuesday afternoon.Reading Break I could enjoy a good book and coffee while the rest of the world was “working”. While this non-traditional life never offered me a retirement plan, I also never planned to retire. I took trips when I wanted, played when I wanted, and had the luxury of living day to day because there was no company ladder to climb or boss to please.

I still work the weekends, and I continue to work everyday for my career and my business. What I love most about it, is that my rest and enjoyment isn’t restricted to just Saturdays, Sundays and holidays. Yes, I have chosen a smaller paycheck in this life, but as every artist knows, freedom and creating art is the paycheck.

A Gift Beneath the Rubble of 9/11

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I woke up alone this morning, and listened to the lovely silence of the early day, when suddenly I remembered the morning silence of 9-11. That day didn’t start out silent, because I was disconcertingly woken up by my clock radio. I was half in and half out of dreaming about airplanes crashing into buildings for about a half an hour until I realized it wasn’t a dream. I think I froze without panic. It was all so confusing. What was happening? Is this for real? Are my friends and family hearing about this?

At the time, I was living alone (for the first time) in my little studio apartment. Even with seventy-five units crammed against each other, I didn’t really know anyone in the building. Except Andrew. I called him immediately. He said, “We’re all going over to Mari’s.” trio-of-seagulls-in-flight-robert-jensenI walked for thirty minutes without a single aircraft above me. People seemed kinder. Everything was so quiet. I kept looking at the virgin sky that held nothing but birds. When I got to Mari’s house, our Group of Ten was forming: Andrew, Mari, John, Anthony, Margie, Oscar, Laura, Rob, Rachel and me. We sat close and held hands for hours as we watched the day’s broadcast. There wasn’t much discussion, just a lot of dazed confusion.

We were clear across the other side of the country that day, but as every American knows, there was no escaping 9/11 – no matter how removed one was lucky enough to be. After thirteen years, our Group of Ten has disbanded by way of geography, marriage, lifestyle, and even death. Memories keep us together.

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What I remember most about 9/11, was the love and warmth and security I felt just sitting there with a group of people who just wanted to be together. Because when you strip everything else away – like the destruction of historic buildings and over 3000 lives in one (OK, four) fell swoops –  it’s the only thing that matters.

 

How Violent Are You Willing to Go?

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I watched Sons of Anarchy for the first time last night (I know, I know), and hung in there for about 45 minutes. I like gritty shows (my favorite is The Walking Dead), but something about this particular episode bothered me. The plot seemed to take a back seat to the violence, and the violence seemed to focus on torture.  child with gunI get The Walking Dead  –  it’s fantasy, zombies, etc., but with all of the real violence covered in our national news: beheadings, school shootings, police shootings, domestic violence, etc. is it redundant to put it in our entertainment? Am I a hypocrite to say this if I love Breaking Bad? I don’t know. Breaking Bad never put storyline in the back seat.

Just this week, I saw a minimum of three casting notices for small independent films all looking for “badass military” types with martial arts experience. All the plot lines centered around lone heroes who violently took the law into their own hands. The meager female roles simply required youth and beauty. With the recent exposure of football pro, Rice, punching his fiance (now wife) unconscious, rap and footballI became extra sensitive when I watched a brand new rap video depicting gorgeous women as bored, horny, desperate things whose only purpose was to either please the men or annoy them.

Too often, I hear actors make fun of a project they weren’t too proud of and say “Hey it paid the bills!” All my life, I’ve heard that same justification for anything that wasn’t illegal. The American Way is to make cash above all else. But what is our obligation as artists? Are we held to a higher standard? I’m not saying turn down a series regular gig on SOA, or only do projects that are family friendly, but where do we draw the line? Everyone’s “line” is different, but if we know our personal boundaries, then the “almighty gig” won’t create them for us. My mind is spinning with this.

Are We In A Relationship?

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I got a thank you card today. Well, it wasn’t really a card, so to speak. It was an e-card with a pre-formatted “Thank You”, and they had typed in a quick message. At first I was glad to know that they had received the birthday gift I dropped off, but then I stood back and observed how removed our personal contact has become. I used to think that emails were impersonal, but now I appreciate them more (personal emails that is). I understand that we are all busy, and that a “thank you” is still a “thank you”, but I also know the remarkable difference a personalized letter makes.

Industry professionals get bombarded with Tweets, Facebook plugs, and emails, but how many of them get personal letters from us? Or even postcards with handwritten messages? Yes, we actors must cover a lot of ground, and send announcements to a lot of casting directors, agents, etc. in the most economical way, but we also must pepper in the personal, the sincere, the detailed communication that creates real contact. It’s what makes human relationships  . . . human. I’m challenging myself to do this every day. You can join me if you like. I’d love the company.

The Tortured vs. The Healthy Artist

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As I sit in the fallout of tortured “geniuses” before me, I reflect on how we, in an effort to feel safe, separate our art from our daily living.
I watched the documentary, Salinger, on PBS’ American Masters. As an actor, I’m fascinated with human behavior. Salinger was – is – a writing phenom, but what interested me was how he wrote as opposed to what he wrote. Not long after Catcher in the Rye was published, he moved from Manhattan to Cornish, New Hampshire, an idyllic, sacred place “away from it all”. But unlike most writers, who use their sacred places with scheduled intent, he used it (and his windowless office) non-stop, and it became a place for him to hide. I see obvious parallels to this and the abuse of natural drugs. Originally intended as medicinal and sacred, plant based drugs are now used as modern day transports to “hiding places”.

There’s a false romance that plagues our arts. It is one that says we must be a “mess” in order to be a genius: Van Gogh, Sylvia Plath, Curt Cobain, Whitney Houston, Phillip Seymour Hoffman – you get it. But, come on, we know that it doesn’t have to be that way. We can be “normal” and still fulfill our art purpose. Yet still we continue to romanticize eccentricity bathed in the light of genius and fame. As with Salinger, we categorize his willful separation from his family (and his odd Lolita complex) as just a part of him being a genius, and turn our palms upward. What can you do? Something. I believe we can do something. I wondered, as I watched this documentary, if his work would have benefited from healthy relationships. Could he have created art without having to deny his daughter and wives the affection they so craved? Could being a good father, neighbor, teacher, or husband, have driven him to write even better works?
In the five main areas of life – career, relationships, health, finances and spirituality – artists tend to focus on only one: career. I want to pile all of these areas in the same car, and take a road trip through art. I imagine good health supporting my career. I imagine frequent, in-person contact with loved ones fueling my career. I can see a strong spiritual base inspiring my creativity, and a good financial flow that keeps me abundant in art supplies. Being a loner is considered cool. Being career driven at the expense of personal relationships is deemed admirable (unless you’re a woman). Being an outsider, being separate is considered synonymous with being a genius. It’s also synonymous with being a serial killer. We are not separate. We are not our art. Our art is simply an expression of who we are. And who we are is the sum of all of our parts.

 

 

YOU’LL SHOOT YOUR EYE OUT, KID

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If you’ve never seen the holiday film, A Christmas Story, I apologize for all of the references here. (Seriously, you’ve never seen A Christmas Story?)

During my recent participation in a business webinar, I botched an opportunity to talk with one of my favorite authors. I love this woman – I’d been listening to her for 7 years – her business and life coaching always gave me something meaty to chew on. (High praise from a vegetarian.) Since my business flow had become stagnant, I felt I needed help. They opened the phone line for questions. I didn’t really have a question, so much as I wanted to talk with her. I thought it’d be kinda cool. Like “touching a rock star”, ya know? I had it all planned out: I’d listen to her other callers first, and formulate my question based in theirs in time for my turn. But I ended up getting through. The screener immediately asked for my name and my question, which I didn’t have. Really – I didn’t think I’d get through! christmas-Ralphie_santa Suddenly, I was about to be “face to face” with my hero, but I never really expected that. This is where I felt like Ralphie in A Christmas Story when he finally gets to sit on Santa’s lap: Put on the spot, I squeezed a lame business question out of my butt. Something about overcoming overwhelm in a sea of competition? What? Whatever – I thought I could reformulate it into a better question before they got to me, right? Not a chance, because not only did I get through, I was also the very first caller! Before I could think, “What was I thinking”, I was on the phone with this world-renowned, life/business coach. When she asked me for my question I, like Ralphie, blurted out the equivalent of “football”. She snatched that up like a single woman diving for a wedding bouquet. This was her cue to launch into old advice I’d heard her give at least a dozen times before. I mean, I was such a big fan that I knew virtually all of her tips. As she went on about something completely irrelevant to me, I felt myself desperately trying to climb back up the “slide”, in an attempt to rephrase my question. All I heard was “blah blah blah” until she finally asked, “Is that true?” No it’s not!! You got it all wrong! is what I wanted to scream, but it was now too late to defend or explain my true situation – the boot had touched my forehead.ChristmasStory_boot I simply replied, “If that’s what you hear from my voice, then it must be true.” Not what she wanted to hear, which prompted her to move on to the next caller. My mic got cut off, and down the slide I went. From somewhere in the “cotton pit”, I heard her say to her partner, “Well, I’m not a mind reader!”

I felt gypped. I felt like I had finally gotten my Little Orphan Annie decoder ring and all I got was a lousy commercial! She gave me old advice. It was a template – cookie-cutter – advice. I was sooo angry and frustrated . . . and embarrassed. I knew it was the wrong advice; it was so clearly the wrong advice – based on the wrong question! So I started to think, well what did I want her to say? What I wanted her to tell me was . . . Wait! This is when I realized that I knew all along what the right advice was. OMG – It wasn’t a matter of me needing her or any other expert’s opinion. It was a matter of me just doing what I needed to do! The hard truth: without accountability or support, I had cycled into over thinking, fear and procrastination. This “Doh!” moment propelled me into action. I immediately dug out a list of objectives I had begun in January and began with my most difficult task: reaching out to people I didn’t know. Scary.

A month later, I still know it’s the right thing to do, and I’m committed. I’ve been told that real progress – more often than not – is made with just ten seconds of outrageous courage. Not only do I believe it – I know it.

EITHER WAY YOU ARE RIGHT

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Either way you are right. I plucked that fortune out of a cookie some time ago, and I’ve kept it floating around my kitchenFortune ever since. Every now and then when I’m making toast or blending a smoothie, that little slip of paper pops up to greet me. I like to keep the fortunes that resonate with me, even if they’re not really fortunes.

Early Wednesday morning, I stepped out of the way as a teenage girl ran past me, wedging her way through the morning crowd. I usually avoid the high school route on my morning walks, but ya gotta mix it up every now and then, right? Her puffy, black hi-tops and bouncing backpack made her look smaller and more awkward than she probably was. She seemed a bit desperate, yet quite focused as she kept repeating, “I’m late. I’m late. I’m late. I’m late. I’m late.” Like Alice’s White Rabbit, she disappeared down the path. I laughed inside as I remembered being that girl – and then I remembered who I was just the day before.

I was “double-booked”, so to speak, for both a commercial audition and a print job at the same time. All parties agreed that if I showed up super early to one, I could be a few minutes late to the other – no later than 11:00 am! Everything had to go perfectly. I left my place three minutes later than planned (ugh), then there was an accident on the 134 Freeway (oh, come on!), and then there was no immediate parking (really?). Still, I was 4 minutes early. Awesome, I can just jump in and out of this audition super quick, right? But then I was handed a script. Script? No one said anything about a script??! I got to work, and made the lines my own in five minutes. I’m ready! Nope. I had to wait for my scene partner to show up. When he finally arrived, he had the same reaction, “Script? No one said anything about a script!” By the time he was ready, I was five minutes behind my perfect schedule. Four takes and a thirty minute drive later, I pulled up to the print shoot exactly on time, but the only parking was across a six lane boulevard! Pulling my suitcase full of wardrobe behind me, I arrived at 11:04 am, only to find out that they didn’t even need me until after lunch! Was I aggravated? Nope, not at all. You see, I knew this was going to happen, because before I walked out the door that morning, I had declared that everything would work out fine. I couldn’t predict how things would work out – I just kept repeating, It’s all going to work out fine. It’s all going to work out fine.

I wanted to find that teenage girl, and reassure her that everything would work out fine if she just switched her words from I’m late to All is well. I know there are no magic words that change reality, but I have experienced “magic thoughts” that have changed my perception of reality. And when you change your perception of the world, your world changes.

 

LAW #2 Giving (and Receiving)

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At some point or another every actor has done an exercise of give and take. It usually consists of meandering around the stage, clapping at each other, and making strange sounds. Although this is an effective exercise that hones holistic listening skills, it’s not what I’m talking about here. Back in the day, Martin DuMaat – one of Chicago’s most influential improv teachers –  had one direction for improv scenes: “It’s your scene partner’s birthday,” he used to say. He went on to explain that scenes flow when each actor gives his partner “gifts”. It was in the giving, that the inevitable receiving would instantaneously occur. And like breathing, every inhale exists because of an exhale. What is “gifting your partner”? It’s a lot of things, but mostly it’s

The conscious introduction of discoveries.

Not new ideas or inventions, but discoveries – discoveries that go beyond the usual ones of location (where) and activity (what).  Over and over again we see players throwing out “wacky” situations in zany locales in order to get a laugh. (They’re usually inventions anyway.) That’s fun, but for the most part, it’s playing for the end product – the joke. An honest improvisor plays for the now, not for the future. I’m not saying that the where & what can’t come by honestly. I’m saying that they must be discovered in the moment as opposed to being discovered as a joke. If you play the joke, then the back and forth ends right there. End of scene. (I’m talking about the joke, not the game.) But if you’re genuinely in the moment, you will infinitely discover infinite possibilities. By stating them, or living them into the scene, you have now given your partner “gifts”. So what happens next? Their in-the-moment-response (receiving) will spark another discovery, and so on. And deeper discoveries will emerge, like relationship (who) and needs (why).

If you think (key word, think) that your scene partner is giving you nothing, then you’re judging them, their gift, and you’re judging/limiting your ability to receive. Now it’s your turn to play as if they think it’s your birthday. Let go of the judgment, and see them as their character. When the character “gives nothing”, that’s something wonderful – the actor is actually giving you something for your on-stage relationship. Too often an actor will see a glimpse of something, but not respond to it, and later will say “Hey, I thought you were gonna blah, blah, blah, so I waited for you to blah, blah, blah.” Don’t ever assume. Don’t ever wait for your partner to do what you expect. Find joy in the unexpected, and respond to it. Unless that gift is received, then infinite discoveries will shrink into finite ideas. Beware of an opposite reaction as well: being caught up in your partner’s talent. At some point we all find ourselves performing with someone who is  . . . amazing. Our reaction might be to feel as if we need to be just as good. We might fear that this expert will find us boring or become frustrated with our lack of equal genius, so we scramble to keep pace or be clever. Funny how those knee-jerk reactions take over, huh? Know this: if you’re performing with a highly talented improvisor – they are not judging you. They, in fact, delight in everything you do, because they have learned how to receive all gifts.

This is law because it always exists. Like breathing, if you stop the exchange, you die. Can a scene be resuscitated? Always. Whatever we receive or perceive from our partner automatically generates a response. If we fight against that response, then we are not working with the Law of Giving and Receiving. If we allow the Law to be, then we will all succeed.

Accidental Gifts

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Sarcasm’s a tricky thing, isn’t it? Last week I was heading into the 7-11, when I noticed an elderly man in a wheelchair asking a couple for a handout. The boyfriend stopped, but the woman – who was using a walker – paused in front of the doorway. “Oh he’s always asking people to do things for him!” she snapped. opendoorBut before anyone could respond, I opened the door for her and said, “And let me do this for you.” She thanked me several times and told me how sweet I was, completely missing the irony. This ticked me off. I wasn’t trying to be nice, I was trying to teach her a lesson in compassion! How annoying to mistake my finger wagging for a courteous gesture! Truth? When she saw kindness in me instead of a smartass, her focus changed, her mood changed, and she went inside the store with a big stupid smile on her face. I gave her crap, but she saw compassion.

So how do we take life’s crap and as see it as a gift? postman A crappy gift I received last year was facial eczema. It was horrible. It worked its way across my face in excruciating two week cycles: first the skin became inflamed like a severe sunburn, then it dried, pulled and tightened across my eyes and mouth like latex make-up, and finally it would crack, peel and flake. No sooner had the flaking subsided, did the painful “sunburn” start all over again. I could no longer wear my contact lenses, and the slightest brush of my hair would trigger insatiable itching. This went on for months.

I didn’t want to be angry about this – my skin was trying to tell me something, right?  I saw a Doctor of Asian Medicine, early-acupuncture-imageand she prescribed an extreme diet change: no gluten, dairy, coffee, soda, spices, alcohol, chocolate, onions, garlic, dark fruits, brown rice, nuts, etc. This truly sucked. She also prescribed frequent acupuncture sessions and many, many Chinese herbs. After three months, I saw waves of healing and recurrence, but I could no longer afford her. I still stuck with the diet, though. Along the way, I found a meditation practice that provided the only peaceful time in my day. About five months later, things were starting to improve: the cycles were now separated by longer time periods of peaceful skin. Yet it would always return. I knew I needed help, so I contacted my aunt who is an Integrative Doctor in the adrenal_test_kit_clinical_pakMidwest. Before I could say anything, she generously offered to work with me long distance. After a full lab analysis, (did you know you can FedEx your body fluids?) it was determined that something was “off” in my gut. She prescribed supplements: fish oils, probiotics, vitamin D, folic acid, digestive enzymes, etc. She also warned me against corn and soy. Really?

What’s working for me, may not work for you. Every body’s different.  I’ve been faithfully taking my supplements (about six a day),  and I’ve reduced my daily diet restrictions to gluten, coffee, soda, and dairy. Now and again I will see barely noticeable rough patches when I eat “bad” foods, but they clear up quickly.  It’s been fifteen months since the eczema began, and today I am grateful for it. It has brought about lifestyle changes that I had put on the back burner for years:

  • Integrative Medicine
  • Daily meditation
  • Conscious eating

If not for the eczema, I’d still be bombarding my system with “harmless” foods, until a perhaps worse situation appeared. I never would have investigated my gut health and discovered deficiencies before they got worse. I also never would have committed to a meditation practice, which grounds me, and regularly brings sweet insights. I awoke to this one last spring:Lotus position on the edge of a cliff

And at every moment, in every day, there is opportunity to receive all gifts.

 

How to Dodge the Flying Sh*t

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slippery-slope-3One year ago, the beginning of my downward spiral began. On September 11th, my boyfriend’s father called to say he didn’t have long to live. I drove my boyfriend to the airport, supporting him with strength and optimism. I thought he’d be back in two weeks. Instead, he spent four months tending to his dad’s declining health. From September to January, I drove back and forth from my place to his – over the hill and back – to forward his mail and personal items, water his (now dead) plants, and care for his cat. Kitty’s renal failure required special care. As bad timing would have it, I began to suffer from painful facial eczema that greatly affected my quality of life. My strength and optimism were beginning to wane. Just before Thanksgiving, my computer died. With all my running around I had no time to see friends. I was quite alone, and started to feel it. We decided it was best if I moved in to his place. I felt a sense of relief, but now I was looking at having to purge thirteen years of my lifePallBearers. On New Year’s Eve, I gave my thirty days’ notice, and on January 3rd, my boyfriend’s father died. I had my phone turned off when he tried to call me. Epic Fail.

I jumped on a plane to help with his dad’s funeral, but didn’t expect to help with his mom as well. Dementia was setting in, and now her son had a new reason to stay even longer. Back in L.A., I had to either sell or give away most of my belongings before I could move. It wasn’t until March when I felt I could finally catch up with my business and my life. (Really, there is no “catching up”).

Now six months had passed, and my savings were drained. Commercial auditions were unusually scarce, and theater jobs trickled. I still suffered from the eczema, buGetting to know yout could no longer afford a doctor. In May, Kitty was diagnosed with cancer and needed even more care. In June, my theatrical agent went out of business, I had a terrible falling out with a friend, and my dentist informed me that I needed a $1000 crown. July was a very dark month. Then on August on 29th – in the vein of “wfronthat else could go wrong?” –  my parked car was totaled by a reckless driver.

Don’t’ ask me if I can see that “everything happens for a reason”. That’s a question to occupy the mind, not the heart. Here is what my heart awakened to: Every terrible thing I experienced gave me something concrete to fix/solve, and every single time, it revealed itself as a distraction. Everything distracted me from working on my art and on my business. This is not to say that I place no importance on these outside events. I very much do. What they’ve brought to my attention, however, is my willingness to put my art and my business aside in favor of them. There are no clear outcomes, no guaranteed results in creative endeavors. To do the work for the sake of doing the work is “poo-pooed” in our culture – How can you enjoy (fill in the blank) when (fill in the blank) has happened? Are you making money at it? Are you forwarding your career? These questions are nothing but excuses for not showing up to the canvas. couch_potatoDuring hard times, it is more acceptable to self medicate in front of the TV than it is to expand ourselves. What we must see is that exercising our talents – with no societal agenda or audience approval –  is how we feel better, feel joy, and reap the rewards.

What is that thing you’ve been yearning to do that will expand your talents and put a smile on your face? doingMakeUpAre you too busy checking off your to-do list to get down to the real work? Are you doing the work, but repeatedly coming up for air to see if someone is clapping? Expanding our talents is what we are meant to do. It is not selfish. It is mandatory, and it gets us through the hard times.