APRIL IN AUGUST AT FRINGENYC

April's Fool is in! Repeat: April's Fool is in! I am Fringe-ing it this summer. That's right- I am going to be a participant in the 2014 New York International Fringe Festival with my latest play, April's Fool. I am excited, a little scared, and very happy.

April's Fool, my metaphysical comedy that was first developed by the theater at the Colorado Springs Fine Arts Center- Scott Levy, artistic director- and recently given a reading as part of the Playwrights Festival at The Western Stage of Salinas- Jon Selover, artistic directcor- will be given it's first full production in August, marking my first full length play to be performed in NYC in almost 8 years.

I want each of you to come see it. I don't want any excuses. I want your butts in seats. That sounds a little kinky, and I don't care. Just be there- it's this August, in NYC- the best time of year to be in Gotham.  And if you haven't already- visit our Facebook page and "like" it. Pretty please. Just click HERE and then, once on April's page, click like. Ten seconds of your time.

If you like my plays at all, April's Fool is for you- it's got a bunch of hyper intelligent people acting like morons. It's got cultural references galore. It's got death, sex, loneliness, and angst. And it's funny.

The casting is in progress- if you are in NYC and have always wanted to audition for a brand new play by Kelly McAllister, this is your lucky day.

Not only is it written by me, it's being directed by Bronwen Carson- who is so talented, funny, and insane in the best sense of the word that I can't really do her justice with my feeble attempts at describing her. Just trust me when I say she is a director who kicks it in the ass.

But wait, there's more. The show is being produced by Craig Nobbs- rising screenwriter, film director, and genius. And one of my dearest friends and collaborators.

So, why else should you go see this show? Well, if you've ever wondered about reality- like if maybe this is all some sort of weird dream, or maybe you are in the wrong alternate reality and should be in the one where you have the job of your dreams and made all the right decisions- if you've ever, even for just one moment, pondered if there is such a thing as fate or destiny controlling all or at least some of your life- if you think maybe you stepped through the looking glass long ago and have been wandering Wonderland most of your days and nights- this is the play for you. It won't answer all the questions- but it will give you a little bit of solace on those occasions you think we're all mad here.


The New York International Fringe Festival is the largest performing arts festival in North America, and takes place in August. I have had the great honor of being involved in four productions at FringeNYC- Last Call; Muse of Fire; Die, Die, Diana; and Some Unfortunate Hour. To be in the Fringe is amazing- and to experience it as a theatre goer is something that should be on everyone's bucket list.

So see you in August. More details- like theatre space and show dates and times- TBA.
If you want to buy a digital copy of the script- you can do that, right now, and for less than two dollars, by clicking HERE- that will take you to Indie Theater Now- the best web site in the multiverse.

APRIL IN SALINAS

April is coming to Salinas. So is Ahab and Moira and Jaypes. They're all being brought there by Norn- or Urd, as some call her. Or is it Verdandi? Or perhaps Skuld? Who can say for sure? What I am fairly sure of is that all those strangely named folks are characters in my new play. Mayhap they're all mad. Or we are. Or you are. Or I am. Or not. It all comes down to something in the end. Doesn't it? What appears to be happening- if indeed this reality is happening and not the dream of a butterfly about to waken, at which point this world will pass- is that my latest play April's Fool is slated to be presented as a staged reading as part of The Western Stage's Playwrights Festival.


The reading is on Sunday April 12 at 2:00 pm. Tickets are free, which I think is reasonable and shouldn't put anyone too much back.

Here's a taste. This is from the beginning of the first scene. It's late at night, and Ahab and April are about to break into Moira's apartment. At this point, they are standing offstage, just outside the door into Moira's place, where the scene unspools. Enjoy:

AHAB (O.S.)

Quiet! She’s probably asleep. Stand back, I’m going to break

the door down.

APRIL (O.S.)

What if it’s unlocked?

AHAB (O.S.)

Don’t be stupid! Nobody leaves their door open anymore!

The door opens, and we see April, late twenties/early thirties. She is wearing a harlequin costume, including a black mask over her eyes. In one hand she holds a bag full of tools, in the other a flashlight, which she points into the room. She takes a few steps in, followed by AHAB- same age, wearing a court jester costume, holding a crowbar.

APRIL

You were saying?

AHAB 

Your hair wants cutting.

APRIL

You should learn not to make personal remarks. It’s very
rude.

AHAB

Well, shit.

APRIL

So now that we’re in, what’s the plan?

AHAB

Grab the pinball machine Dickhead gave her, throw it out the window, and escape into the night!

APRIL

Quiet! (whispers) She’s probably asleep!

AHAB 

(whispers) Right. Flashlight.


April pulls another flashlight out of the bag, hands it to Ahab. He turns it on. They both point their flashlights around the apartment, revealing tasteful furniture, and also many empty glasses, half eaten bowls of potato chips and such, indicating a party was thrown earlier that night. There’s a door to the kitchen, and a hallway leading to a bedroom and bathroom. Ahab points his flashlight to a pinball machine in the middle of the room.

AHAB (cont’d)

Who gives his girlfriend a pinball machine?

APRIL 

I think it’s kind of cool.

AHAB 

It was a theoretical question!

APRIL

Theoretical?

AHAB

Rhetorical! You know what I mean! Not wanting an answer
‘cause it’s obvious that what I mean is that Dickhead is a dickhead. And it is not kind of cool!

APRIL

Have some wine.

AHAB

What are you trying to say?

APRIL

I think you know.

AHAB

Then you should say what you mean. 

If that whets your appetite, and you'd like to read the whole play, you can purchase it online- that's right, before it's world premiere later this year in NYC- at Indie Theater Now by clicking HERE.

The Playwrights Festival is part of a year long celebration of the Western Stage's 40th anniversary- which is a pretty remarkable achievement in the theatre world- or any other type of world for that matter. I have worked there both as an actor and a playwright, and it is part of the fabric of my soul- a place where I learned a bit about the stage, about art, about life and death and sex and drugs and rock-n-roll and the meaning of spaffles. As an actor, I had the distinct honor of being in the first two fully staged productions of Alan Cook's adaptation of John Steinbeck's East of Eden- a trilogy of plays that was in total nine hours long. If the list of shows I acted in was a discography, East of Eden could very well be my Sgt. Pepper's. Or Let It Bleed. As a playwright, they produced Burning the Old Man last summer, and the year before gave a staged reading of Riddle Lost.

Clearly, they have good taste in writers.

THE SPARROWS ARE FALLING All OVER THE PLACE

"I’ve been the Queen of Broken Hearts long enough!" - April

So Saturday, APRIL'S FOOL had it's first public reading ever, at the Fine Arts Center of Colorado Springs as part of the Rough Writers new play festival. It was fantastic. The cast- Nick Henderson, Jessica Parnello, Crystal Carter, Matthew Wessler, and Michelle Sharpe- were brilliant, the director - Crystal Carter- outstanding, and the overall experience very positive. They all kicked it in the ass. Seriously. These are some of the best Colorado has to offer. If you are anywhere near- and I mean like two hundred miles- the FAC in Colorado Springs and don't come to the reading this Friday, you might be what is technically known as a moron.


"We’re killing the pinball machine. Do you think it’ll fit out the window?" - Ahab


 I always feel like throwing up when I hear a new work of mine done for the first time. I don't get nerves when I act, or when I watch a show I directed. But when it's something I've written- all bets are off. But if it goes well, that feeling is quickly replaced with euphoria, triumph, and egotism.

"I am so stupid! Things are just starting to go my way, I finally get a break- and I go and kill my boyfriend!" - Moira

Now I take what I learned from hearing it out loud in front of people, make whatever re-writes I deem necessary, and we do it again this Friday at 7:30. What did I learn? First off, it seems like most people can relate to feeling unhinged in time, confused about their lives, and not quite sure what has happened to them. Go figure. On top of that, there are some tweaks to dialogue that should make it flow smoother- although, for whatever reason, dialogue seems to be one of my strongest suits as a writer. And the last scene needs something- a little more redemption or madness or I am not sure what, but there is a line or scene or event that hasn't happened yet that has to happen. I can feel it. A lot of times, when I write a play, there is some scene that comes late that ties everything together, sends it to the next level, connects the dots. In Muse of Fire, it's the scene where Dion and Mick drive to the ocean. In Last Call, it's a game of hide and seek that David and Jack play in a grave yard. Somewhere in the ether is that scene for April's Fool, waiting to say hello, to drop to the ground like a provident sparrow. I might find it today, or a month from now, but it's on it's way. Trust me.

"I gotta tell you- the coveralls, the whole hot bad girl at work thing? Daddy like." - Jaypes

I like this play. A lot. It's weird and funny and fantastical. It's got gods and dreams and murder by pinball. And a little bit of love, just for good measure.

Also on it's way, the next production of ROSE RED, at SOFA in Boulder. If you are a young performer and want to have one of the best June's of your life, be in this show.  It will kick you in the ass, and make you a super genius. Auditions are May 13 and May 20. Go here for more info:
http://www.offbroadwayfinearts.org/summer-stage-2013/

And this July, BURNING THE OLD MAN gets it's West Coast premiere at 2X4 BASH at the Western Stage in Salinas, CA. I did a lot of theatre there when I was starting out, including a three part, nine hour long version East of Eden that changed my life. It's a great theatre company, and to have one of my plays done there is very exciting to me. Come out and see it- if you do, I'll take you to the beach and buy you a soda.

"A foodie versed in Norse mythology, dressed as a clown, killed by a pinball machine, asking me out for drinks. Strange." - Norn

By the way- all the plays mentioned in this are available now, or soon will be, on INDIE THEATER NOW. So do us both a favor and buy a play for less than two bucks.

THIS TOO KICKS ASS

Burning the Old Man is by far my most successful play to date. It's initial run was well reviewed, won the NYIT award for outstanding full length script, been published both in print and online (at the best site for new scripts, Indie Theater Now) is featured in several scene/monologue books as well as in the latest edition of the text book Acting is Believing (a book I had to read in college), and has been translated into Czech and Portuguese. It ran for three years at Divadlo na Zabradli in Prague, and is currently playing at  Divadlo Exil. This Saturday, it opens in Sao Paolo, Brazil with the title As Cinzas do Velho. And this July, it will open in Salinas, CA as part of the 2X4 BASH at The Western Stage.

I look at the above paragraph and think that looks like a bunch of bragging. And maybe it is. But I feel pretty good about everything that's happened with the play, so what the hell? As Max Bialystock would say, flaunt it when you got it, baby! Flaunt it!

I wrote the play very quickly. The first draft took less than a week, and just sort of poured out in a torrent from my mind to my computer screen. I think it's both strange and wonderful that something that  seemed to come so easily has had such a long, healthy life. No doubt there is a lesson in there about trusting your instincts, getting out of your head, and letting the universe, or multiverse, guide you.



I think I am on the same track with my latest play, now titled Mathurine. I wrote the first draft in less than a week, have not over thought anything about it, and it seems to be touching a chord with everyone who reads it.

Now that I think of it, most of my best work is the work that I don't over think. I wrote my one act Hela and Troy in a day, and that's my other international play, having had productions in NYC, Canada, and Dubai.



But maybe those plays were only easy because I had spent plenty of time on plays that were not so easy. Or because I've spent my entire adult life around the theatre, as an actor, reviewer, director, and audience member. I don't know why. But I do know that, for me, the best thing to do when I sit down to write is to put on some good music, find the dimensional door that opens into another world, and walk through it. When I say dimensional door, what I mean is this: when I write a play or story or whatever, I usually see in my mind some scene- a guy running into a hotel lobby with a box full of his father's ashes; Hela, the Norse goddess of death, speed dating; a guy and a girl breaking into an apartment in Manhattan intending to do violence to a pinball machine. Then I go to that world, and that's that. It's hard to describe any better than that.

I must say here that I owe a lot to JoAnna Beckson- one of the best acting teachers around, who I was lucky enough to study with when I lived in NYC. She taught me to check my head at the door and be in the moment; to listen to my instincts; to listen and respond to what is happening right in front of me and to stop imposing my idea of what should be happening on top of what actually is happening. I've been very fortunate in my life when it comes to teachers, mentors, and colleagues. JoAnna inspired me, challenged me, and gave me wings.

One more thing. In Burning the Old Man, there is mention of the phrase "this too shall pass." There is a song by OK Go called This Too Shall Pass, and always makes me smile. There are two videos for that song. Both of them are clearly the product of people who let their imagination soar.

I COULD GO CRAZY ON A NIGHT LIKE TONIGHT

Man, how can it already be this close to the end of summer? What happened? Where was I? Who was I? Who were you? Did any of this happen, or was it all some sort of freaked out dreamscape, a vision a butterfly saw while drying its wings? On days like this, I feel like Billy Pilgrim in Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five- unhinged in time and all over the map.

Still, there were some really groovy things that happened, are happening, and will be happening.

First and foremost, this Friday at 7:30 at The Western Stage in Salinas, CA there will be a staged reading of the latest version of my new play, RIDDLE LOST presented by 2X4 BASH. I have this really good feeling about the reading- I don't know why, exactly, but I do. And whenever I get a good feeling about one of my plays, something amazing happens. Every time. I don't know if that means I'm psychic, or angels whisper in my ear, or I'm crazy. I only know this it is so. The cast looks amazing from the photos I've seen, the director Skot Davis is a smart guy and we had a a really solid conversation last week. The stage manager Melissa Woodrow is this awesome, positive force who really keeps things moving and I could go on and on and maybe  I will but I must say this: If you are anywhere near Salinas- it's in California just east of Monterey- get your ass to the reading on Friday night.

Here's a link to info about the reading, with more photos and other awesome stuff:
http://www.facebook.com/events/350972838316735/355955294485156/?ref=notif&notif_t=plan_mall_activity

Also, the contract has been signed, and my play BURNING THE OLD MAN is going to have a production in Sao Paolo, Brazil this March. Very excited about this, and will post updates. This will be the second language my play has been translated into- it has been playing in Czech in the Czech Republic for the past 3 years. And this is the fourth continent I'll have been produced on. Weird, cool thing to have people you've never met want to do your stuff. But I could get used to it.

What is funny, in a way, is that this play- by far my most popular to date, has only had one equity showcase production so far in the good old USA. There was a reading at South Carolina Rep earlier this month, so who knows?

As for the summer itself, which is about to go bye bye- it was pretty damn awesome. Moments pop into my head as I think about it. This kid in a production up in Boulder with a gigantic smile on his face during curtain call. The cast of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince rocking out at Slughorn's party to The Beatles singing Me and My Monkey.

Oh, and one more thing- I'm working on a new musical. I won't say anything more at this point. Just a head's up, if you will.

Okay, that's my babble for the day. It may be a bit discombobulated, but so am I. I'll let Raven have the last word.

RAVEN

We tell stories because we are stories.

RIDDLE'S IN THE DARK

Jefferson Davis Riddle wasn't always Jefferson Davis Riddle. Until he was about ten years old, he was a boy named Charka, which meant handsome youth in the language of his mother's people. He came from the Lost River. His mother was a Modoc, his father a white settler. He was born during the Civil War, and died as World War II was beginning. I don't know why, but the guy haunts me. So I wrote a play about him, and the events that twisted him into a riddle.

Well, that's not entirely true- but then again, what is?

I set out initially to write a play about the Modoc War of 1872-1873 that happened in Northern California and Oregon, which is mainly a story about Captain Jack, a Modoc chief whose story is Shakespearean in scope. His story is one of heroism and betrayal on a massive scale- and I do include that in my play.

But once I began writing, the play quickly became about Riddle himself, and what it means to be a mix of good and bad- to not really know what your roots are, where you come from, and where you're going. I think most of us here in America can relate to that. Seems like most of us have family trees that get lost in the mists of time. We all come from the displaced, the lost, the removed ones- and our family histories are mixed up collages of myth and mystery.



As I wrote the play, more and more characters who are lost, twisted, and/or crazy started showing up. First came Hel- Norse goddess of death who is half beautiful enchantress, half dead thing whose father is Loki- god of chaos, thieves, and madness and whose mother is an ice giantess named Angrboda. Clearly, she has some family issues of her own. (I also have a one act about her going speed-dating called Hela and Troy) Then along came Raven- trickster god of the Pacific Northwest who sometimes is his own grandpa- just like that stupid song. Raven was my own father's favorite mythological character- and as such, he carries a lot of weight.  Then there's Mimir, a chopped off head of a wise man that's still alive. In the play, I've made Mimir be a wise-woman whose sex has been misrepresented in the stories to both illustrate how stories change with time, and also to make the show have more female roles.  And then there's ghost of Pocahantas- after they changed her name to Lady Rolfe and shipped her off to England, where she died of a broken heart. She shows up in the third act, and I find her hysterical and really sad.

The play is just full of happy folk.

And it's got a lot of humor. Sounds weird, I know- but let's face it, we turn to humor most when things are going particularly bad- and it's been that way from Aristophanes to SNL. I think the reason the Irish and Russians have such dark senses of humor is because if they didn't, they'd go mad.

Anyhow, I'm telling you all this because this August 24, there's going to be a free staged reading of the play- which is called RIDDLE LOST, presented by 2X4 BASH at The Western Stage, directed by Skot Davis. That's in Salinas, CA. A beautiful place to spend a day in August.

I want you all to come see it. All of you. Now go.

MEANWHILE

So I'm waiting on things. Contests, projects, the proverbial ship to come in and all that. And while I do, the wheels of the world keep turning at great speed, as if all motion is perpetual, all moments continual, all threads connected somehow, in a way that I always understand in my dreams but can't quite remember when I wake up.

Guess Lennon was right- Life is what happens while you're making plans.

I got a reading of Riddle Lost coming up out in Salinas, California at the Western Stage- one of the many incubators of my artistic soul. I spent many summers there as an actor, working on some pretty amazing projects, including a nine hour, three part adaptation of East of Eden which was one of the seminal experiences of my life. It's run by Jon Selover, who I went to college and who taught me a lot about theatre.

Salinas is also where my first play, Last Call takes places.

The reading is part of 2x4 Bash, a project run by another old friend and fellow lunatic Mark Englehorn that also includes a reading of the play 8 by Dustin Lance Black- the guy who won the Oscar for writing Milk, and who was in a production of Peter Pan with me at Western Stage. So that's pretty friggin' sweet.

Riddle Lost is about a real life guy from the Old West named Jeff Riddle who's mother was a Modoc Indian and father was a settler and who lived through a really nasty war. It takes place in the after-life, and has a cast of characters that includes Norse death god Hel, a cigar store Indian named Ziggy, and Raven- the trickster god of the Pacific-Northwest. It's weird and funny and sad and I like to think kicks it in the ass. If you're near on Salinas on August 24, go check it out.

I'm also doing a lot of children's theatre this summer. A lot. Tomorrow I audition 52 kids for a musical I'm directing up in Boulder in July, and on Monday I start a production of Lightning Thief here in Denver. And while it may be tiring as all hell, it's also really invigorating to do theatre with young folks. They still understand the power of the imagination, and there isn't much they can't do.

On top of that, I am super close to finishing my first flick, Strong Tea. Like probably a week. Then I leap into the land of submitting to film festivals- where I will live for the next year.

And on top of all that, I have two other screenplays I'm figuring out.

I think I need to take the wife and drive up to the mountains and watch a river splash along for a few hours, sing to the trees, and search for Bigfoot.

LAST OF THE BOHEMIANS

So Fenway: Last of the Bohemians, is set to be published online by Indie Theatre Now.

And I dig that.  As soon as it's up, I'll put the link up here.  Of course, you already can go there and buy Last Call, Muse of Fire, Burning the Old man, and Some Unfortunate Hour- all for less than a buck fifty.  

Anyway, below are my author's notes for Fenway.  No doubt, there are names missing that I will add as soon as I get them. 

AUTHOR’S NOTES – The inspiration to write Fenway came on the night that George W. Bush got re-elected.  I was at The Magician, a bar on the Lower East Side of NYC, watching the returns with some friends, and I wondered what happened to all those people from the 1960’s who were supposed to change the world?  Where were those lost idealists and protesters? It seemed like they had all vanished, died, or sold out.  I started to think about how liberalism had seemed to be on the decline in America since about 1980, when Reagan got elected, and how hippies were now pretty much a joke, a mostly forgotten stereotype.  And somehow, I got to thinking about Uncle Vanya.

I have loved the play Uncle Vanya ever since I saw a production of it done at The Western Stage of Salinas directed by my friend Jon Selover.  It’s so funny and sad and pertinent. I remember watching Julian Lopez-Morillas as Astrov in Act Three going on about the shrinking forests and thinking maybe the speech was an insert, penned by a modern writer.  But no, turns out old Anton was an environmentalist.  This particular production was brilliant- fast and furious and thought provoking- not unusual for that theatre company.  If there was one part of the play that I didn’t completely relate to, it was how Vanya was so mad at Serebryakov.  I got that Vanya was in love with the professor’s wife- but there was a deeper sense of betrayal at the professor.  I don’t know if it was that version of the script (Mamet’s), or where I was in my life at the time, but it just didn’t quite click for me.  But then, watching George W. Bush on the screen, it clicked.  Serebryakov was a sell-out, the equivalent of all those people from the 1960’s who had once stood for peace, love and understanding but had decided to instead become staunch defenders of the status quo.  And I could see in my mind’s eye Uncle Vanya set in the 1980’s, during the Reagan Revolution, on an old hippie commune.  Astrov could be a Greenpeace type who works at a methadone clinic, Vanya a burnt out ex-hippie, and Serebyrakov a former radical turned conservative.  Often, when I get an idea for a play, it’s like that.  I see the whole world, and several of it’s characters.  I don’t sleep much, and become sort of annoying to people, as all I can talk about for weeks is the story.  I wrote the first draft quickly.  I would have friends over to read scenes as they were being written- including Jack Halpin, Christine Goodman, Heather McAllister, and Tim McCracken.  I told Tim Errickson about the idea.  He had directed a production of Vanya at Expanded Arts in which I played Astrov, and I knew he would dig it.  He did, and soon there was a reading as part of Boomerang Theatre’s First Flight, and it felt pretty groovy.  Re-writes were done, and another reading/lab was done up at Lincoln Center, using the talents many fine actors, including Julie Congress and Dan O’Neill.   The next draft was given a reading by BeaconNY Productions, and used such talented wonders as Christopher Grabowski, Tara Falk, and Diane Buglewics Foote.   One of the great joys of writing plays is all the talented artists you get to work with- each with a unique perspective that adds to the soul of the show.  I wrote and re-wrote, and the wrote some more.  Many rewrites- with so much help from Lisa that she became co-author- and it was ready for a full production, which happened in the fall of 2006 as a co-production between the Boomerang Theatre Company and Impetuous Theatre Group, with Jack Halpin, Carrie Brewer,
Reyna de Courcy,
Margaret A. Flanagan,James David Jackson,
Tom Knutson,
Paul Navarra and was directed by Tim Errickson.

In 2009, there was a workshop reading of the play at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival, in their Black Swan Lab run by Lue Morgan Douthit with a cast that included Gregory Lingington, Richard Howard, Jeffrey King, Derrick Lee Weeden, Terri McMahon, Vilma Silva, Catherine E. Coulson, Miriam A. Laube, Ryan Anderson and Tyrone Wilson.  In early 2010, a reading was given by the Seattle Playwrights Collective directed by Dan Tarker with Alysha Curry, Gene Thorkidsen, Sherry Narens, Gary Estrada, Griffith Kadiner, Dolores Rodgers, and Richard Hawkin.   Several re-writes came about from those two readings, and the version you have is the latest draft, based on all three productions/workshops.

I would encourage people doing this play to seek the comedy as much as possible.  And look up all the songs they mention in the script.  In this day of the interne, Youtube and Google, it is inexcusable to not research all references in a play. 

Enjoy! 

THE RUG THEY CAN'T PULL OUT

Long ago, the late great Tom Humphrey, (long time Artistic Director of The Western Stage and known lunatic) said something really smart.  He was doing a seminar for the American College Theatre Festival about starting you own company, producing your own show- taking control of your career.   What he said was that, if you make your own rug, nobody can pull it out from under you.  Why let other people determine your success or failure?  Why empower a bunch of people you've never met, who may or may not be even qualified for the position of power they have?  It made sense to me then, and it makes sense to me now.  Of course, like most great advice, I have forgotten it and remembered it many times over in my life- and no doubt will do so many more times before I kick that final kick.

One of the first times I took that advice to heart was a few years later, when I was working as an actor at Western Stage- yes, the very same theatre company run by Tom Humphrey.  I was feeling a little pent up, creatively, and wanted to do something to express myself.  This was before I went full bore for the whole writing thing, and as such, I had a lot of thoughts in my head looking for a home.  So I decided to write a series of anonymous memos, called "Memos from the Underground", using the pen name Tip the Pooka, a nod to characters from both Harvey and The Land of Oz and Dostoevsky.  Yes, even then I made allusion after allusion, hoping someone would get the reference.  Lame, but it's what I do.  Anyway, it turned out the advice about the rug was true.  I felt great- empowered- brilliant.  And no one  could take it away from me.

Years later, I took that advice to heart again when forming hope theatre, inc. with my sister Heather and brother Jerry.  We had all three been in NYC for years, living the life of the starving artist- waiting hours for an audition so that some casting director's assistant could watch a one minute monologue, doing free theatre in store front theatres run by people who might have been crazy- it was fun, exciting, and romantic.  But time to do something for ourselves, with us in the driver's seat.  We decided, based on an idea of Heather's, to form our own group, and call it hope theatre.  Again, it was empowering, and better yet, successful.  For out first show, we produced the American premiere of Shakespeare's Edward III, once part of the Apocrypha and still debated by scholars, but generally thought to be at least partially written by the Bard.  I came across it while browsing a bookstore in Greenwich Village one day.  Somehow, no one had ever done it in the USA.  I thought that might be a good show to get a lot of free publicity.  And I was right.  We got the NY Times, the New Yorker, and tons of other folks to come to the show.  And it was our own gig.  And it was groovy.

And now, I'm making a movie.  That's right, me, goon among goons.  On the sage advice of old friend and rising film producer Siobhan Mahoney, I've taken my short play Strong Tea and adapted it for the screen.  And I feel freakin' awesome.  All the pieces are falling into place perfectly. I have a crew, most of the cast, and am ironing out some last minute stuff.  It's happening, and feels like this is what I a m supposed to be doing with my life.   Suddenly, there seems to be even less time in the day, because I am answering this call, taking care of that problem, yadda yadda yadda.  And I dig it, baby.

What I'm basically saying is this- too often, we put too much power in the hands of others.  Screw that. As Obama says, we are the people we've been waiting for.

PS- Coming to NYC in November, readings of my screenplay Burning Man by Harvardwood NYC and my play Riddle Lost by Boomerang Theatre.  Stay tuned for more info!~

The Soul Is Like a Shark

There's a great scene in Annie Hall where Woody Allen likens a relationship to a shark- if it doesn't keep moving, it dies. I think the same is true of our souls. We must keep moving, growing, trying new things- or we slump over and die, and join the living dead. Fortunately, this zombie-fication is not permanent, and there are many quasi- voo doo rituals that can restore us. A trip to India, planting flowers, learning a new language. The list is infinite and groovy and unique to each of us.

I ponder all this because of my buddy Jack, who is painting again, after many years. Hooray. He's even presenting some of his art to the public. Double Hooray. It's been something like fifteen years since he last delved into the waters, and I am vicariously thrilled.

Jack was my room mate many moons ago in the magic land of Salinas. Salinas? Si, Salinas. We lived the Bohemian life with our fellow room mate Greg- and we were always short on money but never short on inspiration. We would have parties- well, we kind approached life as a continual party. At any given time, you could find someone writing a poem, painting, making up an interpretive dance to Gershwin or Jane's Addiction.

On top of that, we were working on a three part, nine hour adaptation of Steinbeck's East of Eden at the Western Stage, which was one of the most amazing theatrical experiences of my life, so far. They were salad days in the salad bowl of the world, and we were all Caesars and Cleopatras. To put it simply, life was groovy.

So, life went on, we went on, and presto change-o, fifteen years go by and we're elsewhere, doing other things. And that's cool- but at the same time, it's become much easier to forget that life is for the living, that one must howl at the moon now and then, that the chimes of midnight demand to be heard. Somehow, we spend more time worrying and less time celebrating. And that's no good.

So Jack, who like all of us has had his share of ups and downs, of remembering and forgetting, has found his way back to creating something that expresses the mystery of existence.

And that gives me hope. It inspires me. It reminds me that we are all of us artists, that we all must keep our souls on the move, or close our eyes and stumble along towards oblivion.

Click on this: Jack : to see more on the show Jack is showing his stuff at.

And here is a poem I wrote in Bohemia:

EDEN (EAST)

Jim dropped the ball

on Greg

but then again

We all gathered in the dark

between the lights

My God

it was all so

huge

Every one of us

were in the Land of Nod

And in that filthy dirt

we reached

peace

communicated

For at least 9 hours

or maybe one act

Hard Times became

more

than just a song

and then

in the final approach

to what was death

We watched them all

stand

and cheer

as we

slowly

Walked into the grave

of a moment

that will never

never

come again