No, I'm not being ________ (insert adjective or colorful noun).
I was watching the NBC news last night, cringing at the segments about our 'Economy in Crisis', and making a feeble atempt at understanding what is really going on. And then it hit me: life for me is no different now than i was 2 years ago. As a matter of fact, I have consistantly lived at or near the poverty line for 8 years now. I learned how to live without certain neccessities and luxury goods years ago. I never had a mortgage to worry about, so I suppose I'm not hurting in ways other people are. I havne't owned a car since 1999, so again, I'm not hurting like other people. At the height of the gas fiasco this summer, I only became aware of it affecting me directly when I went to the grocery store. I live on a very fixed food income, so shopping for me has become a very calculated event. But when milk shot up to almost $5 a gallon at one point, I had to make certain sacrifices in other areas: not buying a monthly bus pass or not paying my renter's insurance for a month.
I'm not old enough to really remember the recession of the early '80s. In the '90s, I had an awesome job waiting tables ($140 per night average) and was in school full time. Gas was .89 / gallon. It was easy to get credit cards (which I now regret). I lived free and irresponsibly. But there came a point when I had to shift gears and learn how to live differently. 'Blindly' moving to Oregon after college helped me with that. I started over, began living a frugal life, and have now become so 'used' to my lack of certain things that I don't shake in my boots when I hear news about the economy.
Am I lucky?
Friday, February 27, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Anxious / Scared / Excited / Anything and Everything
Two things:
1) I had a very peculiar dream last night. I was riding on a packed train. I remember looking out the windows and seeing images of destruction: plane crashes, floods, etc. The person sitting across from me looked familiar, but then not so much. I asked his name and he said something. He gave me a napkin so I could write it down as he spelled it out: Plawthcentic. What the HELL does that mean!?!? Plawthcentic? Then I woke up. It was early morning and I could hear the trash trucks coming down the street. There was no hope for me getting back to sleep. Plawthcentic? I'll look in the dictionary, but I'm not crossing my fingers.
2) I've been relfecting the last week on my play A SONG OF THE PROFANE. It's having it's first full reading on March 7th. The last reading it had was during a play slam at Portland State while I was a grad student taking the playwriting courses. At that time, it was only a fraction of what it is today, and a really different play at that. I dusted it off again 2 years ago, but really didn't touch it until last summer. A brick wall that had been blocking my path was torn down in July, and by Thanksgiving, I had a 'complete' work. During December I proofed, reworked, revised, etc, and by January 1st, it was printed and bound. I mailed off several copies to former profs and family members, some of which have been hounding me for years to finish 'the damn thing'. Well, it has been 'finished' for two months, and in a week and a half, it is having it's first full reading.
I"m anxious, scared, excited, etc. I have invited some audience 'ears' to sit in. I have 5 wonderful friends from the Gay Men's Chorus and from my time at PSU reading the 4 characters and s.d. One of them asked me on Monday night "Is this for you, or are you trying to impress someone in the audience?" A valid question for sure. I said "No, this is so I can hear it outside of my head." But am I being honest with myself? There has to be some little part of me that wants to prove to someone, anyone, that I have the chops to write a play and that I may have finally found my purpose in the theatre. A reality check set in when I read a note from a former professor, Kathleen McGeever, when she posited something that I've been aware of since getting into this area but was always eager to 'forget' - it's tough for playwrights in the buisness.
I've been asked what will I do after the 7th has come and gone? Who knows. I've read many great books on playwriting and how to get into the business, but then again, those are only books. They aren't the real people out there producing, the real people out there reading the scripts, the real hurdles that are ahead. But in the end, after stressing out about all these things, I still find I have a smile on my face because I have done something that I never thought I'd ever do or thought I could do, and that was to write a play!
By no means is my work finished. This read will expose those problems that I cannot see or hear right now. But I look forward to the mistakes because I love this play so much. It has been 8 years in the making, starting from a really lame scene in my undergrad playwriting class at U of Montevallo. For years it lay dormant, but at PSU it came alive again. Now that it is done, I am at peace with many chapters in my life, going back as far as 1997. That's why it has taken so long. Hey, at least I saved a buttocks load of money by not paying a therapist!
A few years ago I viewed a very fascinating documentary on Eugene O'Neill on OPB (PBS). One segement chronicled his time spent writing LONG DAY'S JOURNEY INTO NIGHT. The segment described how he locked himself in his study for days on end, not eating, not sleeping, wrestling with ghosts from his past. His wife wrote that it almost killed him, but he had to do it. When I read the play not long after seeing the program, I understood what it was I had to do. A SONG OF THE PROFANE is my own long journey, but this one into the LIGHT. I see the world much clearer now that I have the weight of my journey off my shoulders and onto paper.
For the time being, I'll cherish the feelings of anxiety, of fear, of excitement. It keeps me motivated to write another. But first, I have to hear the present one.
I'll be counting down the days. I'll be reading and re-reading, over and over again. I want it to be a great experience for the readers, listeners and for me. I desire to find out if I'm on the right path.
Better dust off my walking shoes, 'cause the road ahead may be long, but invigorating.
Happy Soggy Wednesday
1) I had a very peculiar dream last night. I was riding on a packed train. I remember looking out the windows and seeing images of destruction: plane crashes, floods, etc. The person sitting across from me looked familiar, but then not so much. I asked his name and he said something. He gave me a napkin so I could write it down as he spelled it out: Plawthcentic. What the HELL does that mean!?!? Plawthcentic? Then I woke up. It was early morning and I could hear the trash trucks coming down the street. There was no hope for me getting back to sleep. Plawthcentic? I'll look in the dictionary, but I'm not crossing my fingers.
2) I've been relfecting the last week on my play A SONG OF THE PROFANE. It's having it's first full reading on March 7th. The last reading it had was during a play slam at Portland State while I was a grad student taking the playwriting courses. At that time, it was only a fraction of what it is today, and a really different play at that. I dusted it off again 2 years ago, but really didn't touch it until last summer. A brick wall that had been blocking my path was torn down in July, and by Thanksgiving, I had a 'complete' work. During December I proofed, reworked, revised, etc, and by January 1st, it was printed and bound. I mailed off several copies to former profs and family members, some of which have been hounding me for years to finish 'the damn thing'. Well, it has been 'finished' for two months, and in a week and a half, it is having it's first full reading.
I"m anxious, scared, excited, etc. I have invited some audience 'ears' to sit in. I have 5 wonderful friends from the Gay Men's Chorus and from my time at PSU reading the 4 characters and s.d. One of them asked me on Monday night "Is this for you, or are you trying to impress someone in the audience?" A valid question for sure. I said "No, this is so I can hear it outside of my head." But am I being honest with myself? There has to be some little part of me that wants to prove to someone, anyone, that I have the chops to write a play and that I may have finally found my purpose in the theatre. A reality check set in when I read a note from a former professor, Kathleen McGeever, when she posited something that I've been aware of since getting into this area but was always eager to 'forget' - it's tough for playwrights in the buisness.
I've been asked what will I do after the 7th has come and gone? Who knows. I've read many great books on playwriting and how to get into the business, but then again, those are only books. They aren't the real people out there producing, the real people out there reading the scripts, the real hurdles that are ahead. But in the end, after stressing out about all these things, I still find I have a smile on my face because I have done something that I never thought I'd ever do or thought I could do, and that was to write a play!
By no means is my work finished. This read will expose those problems that I cannot see or hear right now. But I look forward to the mistakes because I love this play so much. It has been 8 years in the making, starting from a really lame scene in my undergrad playwriting class at U of Montevallo. For years it lay dormant, but at PSU it came alive again. Now that it is done, I am at peace with many chapters in my life, going back as far as 1997. That's why it has taken so long. Hey, at least I saved a buttocks load of money by not paying a therapist!
A few years ago I viewed a very fascinating documentary on Eugene O'Neill on OPB (PBS). One segement chronicled his time spent writing LONG DAY'S JOURNEY INTO NIGHT. The segment described how he locked himself in his study for days on end, not eating, not sleeping, wrestling with ghosts from his past. His wife wrote that it almost killed him, but he had to do it. When I read the play not long after seeing the program, I understood what it was I had to do. A SONG OF THE PROFANE is my own long journey, but this one into the LIGHT. I see the world much clearer now that I have the weight of my journey off my shoulders and onto paper.
For the time being, I'll cherish the feelings of anxiety, of fear, of excitement. It keeps me motivated to write another. But first, I have to hear the present one.
I'll be counting down the days. I'll be reading and re-reading, over and over again. I want it to be a great experience for the readers, listeners and for me. I desire to find out if I'm on the right path.
Better dust off my walking shoes, 'cause the road ahead may be long, but invigorating.
Happy Soggy Wednesday
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