My favorite singer

is on the Carson Daly show tonight. She will be singing some songs. Her name is Quincy Coleman. I'm so happy for her. Tivo it. You will be happy you did.

CREDIT

If your name is not on something you made did you still make that something? YES.

Mommas Man, a film I very proudly play the lead in, was accepted into the Sundance Film Festival. I dreamed about this. In fact, while on the set of the movie I had a vision that this would happen. I believed so much in my director, the producers, the costume people, the sound people and the loft we shot the movie in. I knew. it felt right. And honest. And loved.

And when the announcement came out, in the trades, on the internet, my name was not on the CAST CREDITS. I went to a very young, familiar place that I can go sometimes. I went to Left-Out land. Left out from the my brother's group of friends at 9 years old. Suddenly, I forgot that I had made the movie. That I played a lead role. That I loved my experience. That I dreamed this to happen...Sundance!! I started "not caring" about the achievement. Started "not thinking it a big deal to be in the festival." Started detaching...so as to protect my heart from hurting.

AHA. I was hurt. No one did this intentionally. I was not left out. A mistake was made. My name accidentally not put on the first press release. EGO, yes! How will people in the business know that I am in a movie? If a tree falls in the forest...that whole thing.

I got quiet. Shared with those who love me most. Got advice. Told my 9 year old to calm down. To come from love...not fear. Trusted. Trusted in myself, my director, my producers, the team. remembered that they care. And now it is okay. Mistakes can be fixed and they have been. I know that because I make them everyday. And I fix them as best I can.

That kid in me has a big part of him that felt the world was out to get him. It is not. I am in the process of re-teaching my 9 year old that no one was out to get me. That...well..shit happens, sometimes.

When I lifted the pangs, or rather when I got quiet enough that the pangs could be lifted, I felt IT! Excited, overjoyed, celebratory. MY MOVIE GOT INTO SUNDANCE!!

Fear not Love. fear not love. So simple. So true.

Sent in from John from New Jersey

LEVEL OUT

At the moment I feel like I have four main "pillars" in my life -
relationship, work, family and my home (the actual space)

What I've come to notice is that it's very rare for all of those pillars
to be "in order" at the same time. There is always, at least one that is
a bit "off/in-flux/whatever"

For example...from a "relationship" standpoint, I couldn't be happier. On
the professional front...my company is humming right now.

By the way, both of these areas have only recently "leveled out". In fact,
a few months ago, both of those were a bit fucked up...and my "family" and
"home" were tight. Now, there's a bit of a ripple in the family (gotta
love how that happens right before the holidays)...and I have a nice leak
in the roof of my home (actually waiting for contractors to show up as I
sit here - they are already an hour late)

You know, I'm not even sure I can remember the last time when the entire
"house was in order". In fact, I don't even know what I would do if it
was. I might lose my fucking mind if there wasn't one thing that needed
some attention (ha)

Honestly, though...when I think about the fact that something will
probably always be a bit "off", it kind of makes me laugh...and even gives
me this sense of "peace" (I guess just knowing that's how life works is
helpful in some crazy way)

It's sort of like the ocean...the waves come in "sets". Sometimes you sit
out there and it's calm for a minute...but you're always prepared for that
next set of waves


Lyrics: Bright Eyes / Level Out

When panic grips your body and your heart is a hummingbird
Raven thoughts blacken your mind until you're breathing in reverse All
your friends and sedatives mean well but make it worse
Every reassurance just magnifies the doubt
Better find yourself a place to level out

Got a cricket for a conscience always looks the other way
A cocaine soul starts seeming like an empty cabaret
Hey, where have all the dancers gone? Now the music doesn't play
Tried to listen to the river but you couldn't shut your mouth
Better take a little time to level out

I never thought of running
My feet just led the way

Mixed up Signals
Bullet Train
Cars are switched out in the crazy rain
I could meet you any place
If the Brakeman turns my way

All this automatic writing I have tried to understand
From a psychedelic angel who was tugging on my hand
It's an infinite coincidence but it doesn't form a plan
So I'm headed for New England or the Paris of the South
Gonna find myself somewhere to level out

Are your brothels full, Oh Babylon, with merry Middlemen?
Never peer out of their periscopes from those deep opium dens
All this death must need a counterweight always someone born again First a
mother bathes her child then the other way around
The Scales always find a way to level out

I tried to pass for nothing
But my dreams gave me away

Mixed up Signals
Bullet Train
People snuffed out in the brutal rain
I could live to any age
If the Brakeman turns my way

It is an old world it's hard to remember
Like a dime store mystery
I'm a repeat first time offender
Who has rewritten history

Mixed up tea leaves
Phantom Pain
Fuzzy logic in the crazy rain
Getting better every day
If the Brakeman turns my way
Mixed up Signals
Bullet Train
Cars are switched out in the blinding rain
He'll be smiling as he seals my fate
When the Brakeman turns my way

Showing Up

The best way to work through an experience that is difficult is to show up for it and work through it. I am currently in an experience that does not feel great. Not because of the other elements (they are who they are) but because I have yet to find my authentic self among them. That is a hard feeling for me because I actually feel it deeply and it takes a lot out of me...NOT BEING MYSELF that is. Logically I know that "they" are not asking me to be someone I am not, however, I am tripping, fumbling in an effort to find my peace, my surrender and myself while in their world. I continue to show up because i want this relationship to work and feel good. I want to change my consciousness around it, but it has not been easy.

i use different tactics each time. stay present, bite lip, un bite lip, speak my truth, let things slide...nothing seems to land up the right way.

Anyone else have an experience that relates? or tools that have helped?

Strike You!

Bob Dylan

Buckets of rain
Buckets of tears
Got all them buckets comin' out of my ears.
Buckets of moonbeams in my hand,
I got all the love, honey baby,
You can stand.

I been meek
And hard like an oak
I seen pretty people disappear like smoke.
Friends will arrive, friends will disappear,
If you want me, honey baby,
I'll be here.

Like your smile
And your fingertips
Like the way that you move your lips.
I like the cool way you look at me,
Everything about you is bringing me
Misery.

Little red wagon
Little red bike
I ain't no monkey but I know what I like.
I like the way you love me strong and slow,
I'm takin' you with me, honey baby,
When I go.

Life is sad
Life is a bust
All ya can do is do what you must.
You do what you must do and ya do it well,
I'll do it for you, honey baby,
Can't you tell?

Sent In From Jessica In California

FROM JESSICA:

i’m hungry, i’m lonely, i’m grateful…i am loved, i am talented, i am beautifully flawed.

i’m listening to amazing music right now, music friends of mine created or friends of mine exposed me to.

i’m turned on, i’m hurt, i’m excited about life.

i feel blessed to know many colorful, creative, talented people…i feel blessed to feel powerfully connected to them on a soul level.

i’m confused, my mind reels, answers seem fairly inconsequential.

i am only temporarily satiated…i always crave more…and then i feel overwhelmed.

i don’t do well with grey…i do well with grey goose, sometimes a little too well. because i like it. i always want more of something i like. i like heightened experiences… i like to feel high. i don’t do a lot of drugs, but I crave them sometimes. the idea of checking out of my thought process for a while is alluring. the idea of feeling a good feeling more deeply, more intently, more intensely is alluring.

i don’t like grey, but i create grey. i invite grey into my life. and then i try to rid myself of it…from my hair and from my life. i try to solve it like a crossword puzzle. years ago, a template was created whereby i put myself in a relationship that i could never figure out, never fully understand (an intimate friendship never labeled as a romantic relationship). were we in love? did we feel the same thing? what exactly did either of us want?

i have since invited many similar friendships into my life…some sexual chemistry seems to be there, lines get crossed, i somehow feel more validated by their attraction to me, and yet something seems to be a little off or fall a little short.

no matter how much i understand that nothing outside of myself will ever eternally satiate me, fulfill me long-term, or bring me true peace of mind…no matter how evident that becomes, I WANT MORE.

more love, more validation, more cool friends, more beautiful, talented, sexy people to be interested in me…

more gum, more laughter, more applause, more food, more sex, more alcohol, more people to MAKE ME FEEL GOOD.

what will it take for me to truly let go, stop trying to control situations and outcomes, stop trying to figure my life out? what will it take for me to make myself feel good?

ALANIS MORISSETTE LYRICS

This strike is bringing up so much in so many. I will for sure write something about how a strike brings people together, repairs relationships and makes the jagged ground under us somehow COMMON ground. The questions: why does it take something GRAVE to set our record straight? Let's use this Writer's strike to dig into this idea of something bad bringing people together. I find it fascinating.

Here is an Alanis song that speaks to this and so much more.

ALANIS MORISSETTE LYRICS

"Utopia"

we'd gather around
all in a room
fasten our belts, engage in dialogue
we'd all slow down, rest without guilt, not lie without fear, disagree sans judgement

we would stay and respond and expand and include and allow and forgive and
enjoy and evolve and discern and inquire and accept and admit and divulge and
open and reach out and speak up

This is utopia this is my utopia
This is my ideal my end in sight
Utopia this is my utopia
This is my nirvana
My ultimate

we'd open our arms
we'd all jump in
we'd all coast down...into safety nets

we would share and listen and support and welcome be propelled by passion not
invest in outcomes we would breathe and be charmed and amused by difference
be gentle and make room for every emotion

we'd provide forums
we'd all speak out
we'd all be heard
we'd all feel seen

we'd rise post-obstacle more defined more grateful we would heal be humbled
and be unstoppable we'd hold close and let go and know when to do which we'd
release and disarm and stand up and feel safe

this is utopia this is my utopia
this is my ideal my end in sight
utopia this is my utopia
this is my nirvana
my ultimate

I Get High When You Relate

Does anyone else get high when another human being relates to your experience or an experience?

I get high when I share something, albeit personal or career related and someone else can find the little thing about my share that they can relate to.

If you have any story about this concept please share and I will gladly post it here.

Let It Brew, Let It Brew

Do you ever wake up with an idea to make a change, in yourself, in the world? And all you want to do is make IT HAPPEN? And then a few hours pass and you feel so overwhelmed because the idea of the idea seems so daunting. Well, likely, it is daunting because we want that pure, innocent, awesome idea to happen and the path to get from idea to HAPPEN seems fucking hard and long. But the idea is in the path. The getting from thought to actual is the idea. or atleast, lends credibility to the idea.

My head has been swimming with a bunch of new ideas, most of which are far from "what I do" Meaning they are not entertainment ideas. How do I get there? First, celebrate my idea because it is really good and worthy. Don't flip-flop and nay say. It is good. Then get quiet and map out how to get to the Happen.

A bet millions of us have genius concepts and most of us will end up saying "oh I had an idea once"

Let's use each other's collective consciousness and go for it. And when you wake up with the lightning bolt of excitement, stay excited, let the idea or thought brew...and like a proper pot of coffee, you will know when it has brewed enough for you start sipping.

Documenting Quincy

I was interviewed yesterday for a documentary that is being made about singer/songwriter, Quincy Coleman. The director, Jaime, shared his story with me and from it I wanted to share this.

He was an actor on episodic TV. That did not fill him the way he thought it would. He was a maker of films, in his heart at least. He decided to listen to his heart, get a camera and shoot things that spoke to him.

He realized that if he got quiet and stopped judging INCOMING (people and environments around him) he could be OPEN and that Openness could allow him to hear and see 'more clearly'

So it is, the subjects he shoots and documents are those that have entered his life. Those that have given him pause. Those he was open to. And now his movies are being made...or some might say, in a way, making themselves.

Wow. If we get quiet and view things from a non judgmental place some answers may just show up. I needed to hear, Jaime's story.

be back next week

NEXT WEEK THE BLOG WILL BE LOADED UP AGAIN.

LOVE, HAPPY ON THE PAINFUL ROAD

One More From Quincy Coleman

I am listening to Quincy Coleman on a loop today. Her words are really triggering some feelings. This song, for me, is about staying connected to YOURSELF, your focus, your dreams. It reminds you not to play small so someone else can be big. To get out of your own shadow and shine.


AGAIN

HELP ME
SEE MORE CLEARLY
FEEL MORE DEEPLY
MY DREAM
SO I CAN FEEL FREE AGAIN
AGAIN

SEEMS LIKE EVERYBODY IN MY LIFE HAS GOT EVERYTHING GOING FOR THEM
AGAIN
I CAN'T SEEM TO KEEP THE FOCUS ON MYSELF AND OFF OF THEM

AND OF COURSE YOU CAN MISS ME
'CAUSE YOU'RE IN YOUR DREAM
AND OF COURSE I CAN'T POSSIBLY MISS YOU
'CAUSE I'M LONGING FOR ME

HELP ME
SEE MORE CLEARLY
FEEL MORE DEEPLY
MY DREAM
SO I CAN FEEL FREE AGAIN
AGAIN

THIS TIME I'M NOT GOING TO PRETEND
AGAIN
THIS IS THE END
OF A LIFE FILLED WITH UNCERTAINTY
AND EVERYONE
OVERSHADOWING ME

AND OF COURSE YOU CAN MISS ME
'CAUSE YOU'RE IN YOUR DREAM
AND OF COURSE I CAN'T POSSIBLY MISS YOU
'CAUSE I'M LONGING FOR ME

HELP ME
SEE MORE CLEARLY
FEEL MORE DEEPLY
MYSELF

MORE QUINCY COLEMAN LYRICS

Once again, Quincy Coleman is one of my favorite singer/songwriters ever. Here is an old song of hers that I thought appropriate to go along with my last post. Go get her music on Itunes or visit QuincyColeman.Com

REACH OUT

I FEEL MUCH BETTER WHEN I PUT IT ALL RIGHT OUT THERE

ALL THIS SHIT THAT TAKES UP TOO MUCH SPACE IN MY HEAD
I FEEL MUCH BETTER WHEN I TRY A LITTLE LESS HARDER TO DENY
ALL THE PAIN
THAT ONLY GOES AWAY

WHEN I REACH OUT
WHEN I REACH OUT TO SOMEBODY
WHEN I REACH OUT TO YOU AND THEN YOU SAY
BABY, YOU SOUND GREAT

I FIND IT'S HARD
TO HAVE THE LIGHT WITHOUT THE DARK
IT'S LIKE THE STARS WITHOUT THEIR NIGHT TIME SMOTHERED SKY
AND I KNOW
THAT I CAN NOT SHINE ALONE
I NEED YOU TO BEND BACK YOUR REFLECTION
OF WHAT YOU SEE
SHINING THROUGH MY MISERY

WHEN I REACH OUT
WHEN I REACH OUT TO SOMEBODY
WHEN I REACH OUT TO YOU
AND THEN YOU SAY
BABY, YOU SOUND GREAT

EVERYTHING PASSES
NOTHING STAYS THE SAME
AND EVERYTHING PASSES
MAKING ROOM FOR CHANGE
MAKING ROOM FOR CHANGE

I FEEL MUCH BETTER KNOWING
NOTHING LASTS FOREVER...

Process Over Product, Journey Over Destination

My friend Melissa's very close friend took his own life Friday night. I am not certain of the whys and hows of it all but I do know that he was an actor and from what I gathered in my time spent with him it seemed as though he found this acting journey fairly painful. In reflecting on the tragedy of hearing news about suicide, two things come up for me: go see the movie WRISTCUTTERS: A LOVE STORY if you have ever known anyone who has taken their own life or if you have known anyone who is in a very dark sadness. This movie will inspire change of heart about some things.

The other thing that came up for me was that we have to remember and practice making our PROCESS the most important thing. And make our PRODUCT second. Make our journey beautiful and enjoy the shit out of it, ups and downs, for when we arrive at a destination it is that we are THERE. And THERE is more often than not when we start getting nostalgic about the journey we took to get there. I, for one, no longer want to recall my journeys in a negative way.

My Uncle, a doctor, always says this to me: "You go to school, then medical school, then you intern and you complain and laugh and complain some more. It is hard. Grueling often. But then one day you are a DOCTOR. And then you are, for the whole of your life, a DOCTOR. Enjoy the path to becoming a DOCTOR. Because once you are...you are."

So, in a nutshell...lets reach out to friends and family more...lets talk more..when you are in pain or bummed out just reach out...get reminded that it is all good, it's process...it gets better, we get wiser and stronger..

Sent In From Stephanie in Los Angeles

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We were born to manifest the glory of God within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."

--Marianne Williamson

Honoring Your Voice

My mother called me a few months back (we talk everyday so I am not implying that 3 months ago was our last call) and told me that she would send me a check to finance the making of my TV show, RICH WHORES. She read my script a dozen times and believed in it so much that she, who has never produced TV, wanted to step up as an Executive Producer. I did not take her money but she did light the fire under me to film Rich Whores. I have detailed some of the indie tv making with you all and I am so proud of the filmed presentation we have. And I am so grateful to have a mother who has been so consistently supportive of my vision for all my years.

My Mom and Dad have always told, especially when I am in my darkness, to keep honing my voice. Never to let my voice go. Even if the agents don't see it then and there, if I get one hundred NOs, keep my voice and Honor It. My mom says, that for an artist, your voice is your individuality, often the 1 thing that separates you from everyone else.

My mom has also told me again and again that when you are selling your house you only need 1 buyer. thousands can come look and pass, but all you need is the 1 to pull out the check book. She uses this analogy for most everything including my artistic endeavors. You ONLY NEED 1 COMPANY TO GET IT, 1 PRODUCER, 1 NETWORK...1

There's Always Someone Cooler Than You

This is a killer Ben Folds song. I suggest a download. I wanted to post this because it speaks on the Grass Seems Greener post.

Smile
Like you've got nothing to prove
No matter what you might do
There's always someone out there cooler than you

I know that's hard to believe
But there are people you meet
They're into something that is too big to be
Expressed
Through their clothes
And they'll put up with all the poses you throw
And you won't
Even know

That they're not sizing you up
They know your mom fucked you up
Or maybe let you watch too much TV

But they'll still look in your eyes
To find the human inside
You know there's always something in there to see

Beneath
The veneer
Not everybody made the list this year
Have a beer

Make me feel tiny if it makes you feel tall
But there's always someone cooler than you
Yeah, you're the shit
But you won't be it for long
Oh, there's always someone cooler than you
Yeah, there's always someone cooler than you

Now that I've got the disease
In a way I'm relieved
Cause' I don't have to stress about it like you do
I might just get up and dance
Or buy some acid washed pants
If you don't care
Then you got nothing to lose

And I won't
Hesitate
Cause every moment life is slipping away
It's ok

Make me feel tiny if it makes you feel tall
But there's always someone cooler than you
Yeah, you're the shit
But you won't be it for long
Oh, there's always someone cooler than you
Yeah, there's always someone cooler than you
Oh, there's always someone cooler than

Life is wonderful
Life is beautiful
We're all children of
One big universe
So you don't have to be
A chump

And you know
(You know)
That I won't
(I won't)
Hesitate
(Hesitate)
Cause every moment life is slipping away
(Away)
It's ok
(It's ok)


Make me feel tiny if it makes you feel tall
'Cause there's always someone cooler than you
Yeah, you're the shit
But you won't be it for long
But there's always someone cooler than you
Oh yeah, there's always someone cooler than you
Because there's always someone cooler than you

Cooler than you
Boy
Cooler than you
Girl
Cooler than you
Sir
Cooler than you
My Lady
OH!

Nerds gone wild
Yeah yea

Releasing The Reigns - Changing Others

This was sent in from Chloe in New York City. I had to post this because I had this conversation last night.

"Our perception of humanity as a whole is, to a large extent, dualistic.
We paint people with a broad brush—some are like us, sharing our
opinions and our attitudes, while others are different. Our commitment
to values we have chosen to embrace is often so strong that we are
easily convinced that our way is the right way. We ma y find ourselves
frustrated by those who view the world from an alternate vantage point
and make use of unusual strategies when coping with life's challenges.
However ardently we believe that these people would be happier and more
satisfied following our lead, we should resist the temptation to try to
change them. Every human being has been blessed with a unique nature
that cannot be altered by outside forces. We are who we are at any one
point in our lives for a reason, and no one person can say for certain
what another should be like."

Grass Seems Greener

Someone was saying to me the other day that I seem so progressive in my career and in accomplishing my goals. And I responded that I see them, someone who shows up everyday at a good job, does a really good job at that good job, makes good money, goes home to their beautiful home and plays, eats and laughs with their three kids and awesome wife, as super progressive and accomplished.

Grass is always a hint greener over there...wherever there is. Do you ever show up in a room full of peers, a party, a barbeque and ask everyone to introduce themselves to everyone else. watch what happens. there will be this really powerful, awe-inspired energy that begins to fill the space. you will be blown away by everyone and their story and their careers. we all seem so much cooler to everyone else than we seem to ourselves. fuck it, i am going to start really embracing my cool factor (not the "i am too cool for you" cool) but the "shit, i do pretty cool things and think in a cool way and search for other cool people" way.

i would love for my grass to seem pretty GREEN to me.

Hurricanes come whether you want them or not

Your boss is going to be an asshole whether you want them to be or not.
The writer's strike will come no matter how hard we wish it not to.
Bush is still in office, do you know what I mean.

What I am saying here is this: if there is a snowstorm, choose not to figure out a way to shovel your driveway and start your frozen car in order to get to your class or meeting. It's a snow day. Do snow day things. Inside. Warm. Movies. Food. Laugh.

When things come our way that are not our choice and not in our power, lets find our power and take the CHOICELESS opportunity to flex other parts of our beings.

QUINCY COLEMAN LYRICS

Quincy Coleman is an incredible singer/songwriter. She sings the end credits song "Baby Don't You Cry" in the film WAITRESS. She has released two beautiful albums. I strongly suggest downloading both of her records.

I wanted to leave you with some of her lyrics as you step into your weekend.

Thank you all again, for sharing your hearts here.

IN BETWEEN--QUINCY COLEMAN from the album "ALSO KNOWN AS MARY"

I pray for a new way to say
all the things that I'm thinking inside
could you tell me, if there's something that I am missing
cause I'm feeling like I left myself behind

don't feel sorry
I know that I'm learning a lesson
it's just hard when I feel like I'm less than
what I think you want from me
you see a star in me

only you know where I go from here
it's not so clear
but at least I believe that HERE is WHERE I'm SUPPOSED TO BE

Dear God, could you throw some relief my way
and I'll catch it in the mitt of my broken day
go away
this aching in my future's eye
that keeps telling me I should be going places by
going places by now

only you know where I go from here
it's not so clear
but at least I believe that here is where I'm supposed to be

hey I am , hey I am, I'm between
it's a perfect place, for me to be

i'm taking everything I thought I knew
and I'm leaving it all up to you
'cause the more of me I dissolve the more of me can evolve CLOSER TO YOU.

SENSITIVE THINKERS JAIL

SENSITIVE THINKERS JAIL...FROM STACEY IN BROOKLYN

I AM SITTING AT THIS DESK OF MINE AGAIN…TO THINK I SIT AT A DESK. UGGGG. SO NOT ME.
I AM AN ART TEACHER. I KEEP TELLING MYSELF THIS. OVER AND OVER AGAIN. DOES THIS TORTURE ME OR GET ME THROUGH THE DAY. I AM NOT WHERE I BELONG. AM I DREAMING OR JUST STUCK IN MY SENSITIVE THINKER CELL? I AM ALL OF A SUDDEN IN A DARK ROOM, SO SMALL AND COLD. THIS IS THE COMPARTMENT OF MY BRAIN THAT REALLY MAKES ANY GRAY DAY WORSE. TODAY IN NYC, ITS DARK…I WATCH NY1 AND KNOW HOW IM GOING TO FEEL SIMPLY DUE TO THE WEATHER REPORT.

PRESENTLY, IM ACTUALLY AN ASSISTANT DESIGNER AT A PRETTY WELL KNOWN WOMENS CLOTHING COMPANY. I AM SURE ANY 31 YEAR GIRLIE GIRL, SEX AND THE CITY ADDICT, WOULD LOVE TO BE SITTING AT THIS DESK. JUST NOT ME. I HOLD MY BREATH CONSTANTLY. I MEAN TO THE POINT WHERE MY CHEST HURTS AND MY HAZEL EYES START TEARING. SOUNDS CRAZY BUT ITS 110% TRUE, HONEST FEELINGS. I HAVE BEEN HERE FOR 405 DAYS AND NOW A FEW HOURS.
I WAS AN ART TEACHER FOR 8 YEARS. PROBABLY THE BEST 8 YEARS I HAD AS A PERSON, MY SOUL. I WENT EVERYDAY SAW SMILES, CAUGHT TEARS, TIED SHOES, OCCASIONALLY WIPED LIL BUMS, CHANGED JEANS FROM THEIR EMBARRASSING ACCIDENTS, PLAYED HOPSCOTCH, JUMPED ROPE…I MEAN I DID IT ALL. BUT THE BEST PART, I SHARED ART WITH CHILDREN. YEAH, I WAS AN ART ELEMENTARY SCHOOL TEACHER. FIRST IN HARLEM, THEN TO AUTISTIC CHILDREN IN MIDTOWN. I DID HOLD MY DREAM IN MY HAND CARRIED IT INMY HEART. ANYONE THAT KNOWS ME, KNOWS THIS.
CUT TO~ I AM HERE NOW SIMPLY DUE TO THE ART BUDGET IN NYC SCHOOLS NOT EBING ENOUGH AND GOING FROM A FULL TME POSITION WITH BENEFITS TO A PERSON WHO WAS OFFERED PART TIME WITH NO BENEFITS. SEEMS CRUEL. IT IS.
MY WORLD SHATTERED THE DAY I WALKED OUT OF MY ART ROOM. AND IM NOT SURE I HAVE REALLY EVER BEEN THE SAME.
I WAS OFFERED MY CURRENT JOB CAUSE THE OWNER OF THIS COMPANY “SAW” SOMETHING IN ME AND OFFERED ME THE JOB. SHE IS THE MOTHER MY FORMER 4TH GRADE STUDENT.
I COULD GO ON ABOUT HOW AND WHERE I AM BUT TO BE HONEST I AM NO WHERE. I AM LOST. I AM EMPTY. I TRY TO BE THE PASSIONATE ART TEACHER I WASS WHILE I AM, BUT IT HURTS ME MORE THAN IT HELPS. I SIT HERE AND THINK. THINK. THINK, AND THINK SOME MORE. HOW CAN I BE BETTER, HOW DID I LOSE SIGHT OF MY DREAM, WHY AM I BRINGING IN CUPCAKES AND COOKIES STILL? WHY OH GOD WHY AM I AT A DESK WITH A COMPUTER AND NOT A CHALK BOARD OR SINK WASHING PAINT TRAYS? WHY AM I HANGING CLOTHES RATHER THAN BEAUTIFUL ARTWORK CREATED WITH INNOCENCE AND HONESTY? WHY AM I PICKING OUT COLORS FOR A SWEATER RATHER THAN GLAZES FOR AN AMAZING POTTERY PROJECT? HAVE I BEEN BROUGHT TO THIS “CELL” TO REMIND ME OF WHO I AM? IS THIS THE LIFE LESSON WE CONSTANTLY HEAR ABOUT TO KEEP US FROM FALLING? TRUST ME, I GET IT. I NEED THE GUARD TO COME UNLOCK MY CELL. I CANT THINK ANYMORE.
I RECEIVED THIS EMAIL OVER THE SUMMER
Hi Ms. Stacey,

How are you doing? I haven't emailed you in a long time, sorry for that. I haven't seen you since, the 2nd grade, I think. Well I know its been quite a while. Do you know what grade I'm in, the 7th grade! Well in september I will be. And In october I'll be 12 years old. Can you remember when I was 4 years old in Kindergarten in your art class. I still love art and I'm also into tap dancing. I still live in New York City. But the school is apartments now. If anyone didn't know about the school it would be impossible to know. But everytime I look at the buildings I think of the school. I haven't seen anyone from the school except for Jalin Washigton. But I don't talk to her alot because I only see her in my tap dancing classes. Have you seen any of the teachers since the school closed. I used to write letters to Ms. Browing but we stopped. Maybe she moved I'll trying check to she if she is still at the same apartment as soon as I find her address. Well I was nice emailing you, I hope for you to respond.

Your Old Kindergarten Student,

Rain Ricco
THIS IS A TRUE DREAM. I HAVE IT SAVED AS WELL AS PRINTED ON MY DESK. I AM THAT TEACHER. I SWORE ON MY FIRST DAY OF TEACHING I WOULD BE THAT TEACHER, THE ONE WHERE YOU’RE REMEMBERED FOR A LIFETIME….I’LL GET BACK THERE. MAYBE I AM THE GUARD OUTSIDE THIS CELL AS WELL AS THE THNKER TRAPPED INSIDE.

On The Road To Find Out--Cat Stevens

Early morning cup of jo (scrabble word FYI, also spelled JOE) and this Cat Stevens tune to wake me up. Download (yeah right, like you don't already have it)

Well I left my happy home to see what I could find out
I left my folk and friends with the aim to clear my mind out
Well I hit the rowdy road and many kinds I met there
Many stories told me of the way to get there

So on and on I go, the seconds tick the time out
There's so much left to know, and I'm on the road to find out

Well in the end I'll know, but on the way I wonder
Through descending snow, and through the frost and thunder

Well, I listen to the wind come howl, telling me I have to hurry
I listen to the robin's song saying not to worry

So on and on I go, the seconds tick the time out
There's so much left to know, and I'm on the road to findout

Then I found myself alone, hopin' someone would miss me
Thinking about my home, and the last woman to kiss me, kiss me

But sometimes you have to moan when nothing seems to suit yer
But nevertheless you know you're locked towards the future

So on and on you go, the seconds tick the time out
There's so much left to know, and I'm on the road to findout

Then I found my head one day when I wasn't even trying
And here I have to say, 'cause there is no use in lying, lying

Yes the answer lies within, so why not take a look now?
Kick out the devil's sin, pick up, pick up a good book now

p.s. for me, the sentiment of this song reflects Josh Radnor's post

Outside Of You Is Air

If you are in your head, bummed, exhausted from being exhausted from exerting and trying and showing up for your life...and you can't build a house for humanity right now, can't go to Africa right now, can't save the world...right now...get out of your house, RIGHT NOW, and go see a friend do their thing: go to their comedy show, concert, art exhibit, baseball game, piano recital. Or if those events don't happen in your town or with your friends, ask a friend if you can come over to their place and watch a movie of their choosing or listen to music they like or eat a meal they prepare.

BOTTOM LINE: GET OUT OF YOUR HEAD AND GET INTO SOMEONE'S ELSE'S.

Be a part of of another's life for a night. It will peel your eyes open and your heart...it will split your heart open. You will know that you are not the only one on THE PLANET. You can be a follower instead of a leader, a passenger instead of a driver. We need to right shotgun sometimes because steering too much can really carpal tunnel your hands.

Discovering is Dating

Because one of my first shares with you was about Rich Whores: A Fairytale (a new tv show I am pitching) I would like to SHARE the process of getting it out there.

We are going on dates right now. Blind dates. The Rich Whores pitch and executives. And so far, the dates have been great. The executives are smitten with Rich Whores and Rich Whores is smitten with the executives. I am sure that we have made a love connection yet, a life partnership...but the dates are going really well. We will continue to blind date until we fall in love with the right company...until the right company falls in love with us.

My point is that we are really enjoying this process because we are in process. And process is progress because it is moving and growing and learning.

At NYU I worked with Liz Swados, a genius theater writer/director. Her live-by motto was this: "I don't give a shit about the 3 weeks of performances. I care only about the process. The journey we take together to get to those 3 weeks of performances. If you care about a packed theater with an audience, if that is your first CARE...get out of my show."

THIS BLOG'S JOURNEY

Hi everyone. In a conversation with my friend, we realized that this blog is on the very same ROAD as us. This blog is taking steps toward its SUCCESS. It wants to be a Website, A talk show, A book. And it will keep on keeping on. Just a really cool inspiring thought...that this BLOG is the very actualization of finding happiness on the painful road.

All of that said, I want this to reach as many people as it can. For our conversation to expand even more. So if any of you have any ideas on how to make our branches grow and reach up and out...shout it out.

and thank you again for checking in everyday, contributing and opening your hearts. We are making an impact on each other. A beautiful, honest impact. And I know you feel that the same way I do. This is more exciting everyday.

Q&A with Josh Radnor

Josh Radnor is the star of "How I Met Your Mother." I have a recurring role on Mother and I always look forward to working with, Josh because he is gracious and smart and just wicked awesome. Success does not make Josh a "cool guy" and I love that about him. He jumped when I asked him to play Rav Bergen in a reading of my show "Rich Whores" and he was fantastic. And his friends jumped when he needed actors for a reading of his screenplay. He has the greatest Ipod in the world and could very well quit acting and be head writer for Rolling Stone--the guy knows that much about music. People talk about Josh Radnor the way they do about Tom Hanks (nicest guy in the business) and I can attest to that. Oh, and P.S., Josh is like your favorite camp counselor...he can talk about LIFE forever and a day and with him, you never feel judged by your own LIFE trials and tribulations.

HERE IS JOSH RADNOR:

What is or are your favorite quotes...as they relate to flourishing, becoming, moving thru things, growth (any or all of those)?

Matty B – First off, let me say: Great fucking questions. I should also say, or rather ask, if it’s okay to use the words “fuck” and/or “fucking” liberally here, but fuck it, I’m just going to assume it is. It’s nice to be able to discuss ideas and life philosophy (which is all I ever really want to talk about) rather than the standard "Do you have any idea who the mother is going to be?" [I always want to be like "Dude, who cares, it’s not ‘Twin Peaks,’ just watch the show..."]

OK, quotes. I fucking love quotes. I’m one of those dorks with a “quote” file and a “good poems” file on my computer. Here’s one I’m liking lately: “You can't have a disappointment unless you've made an appointment." As I get older, I keep being reminded that expectations are killers. We seem to be hard-wired to create some sort of meta-narrative in our heads as to how we see things going down, and then we act like there’s been some sort of colossal error when things go another way. Now it’s a curious thing, because I think we also have a lot of say in how things turn out. But life is full of curveballs, and with hindsight, all of them seem to get us where we need to go. Joseph Campbell said the only appropriate response to everything in life is “yes.” This is actually the wisest thing ever. 'Suffering' is wanting things to be different than they are. Not to say that we shouldn’t work towards changing that which is toxic about our lives or world, but the first step must always be a ruthless acceptance of things as they are, and the curious perfection in all of it, even if we can’t see if from our present vantage point. (I’ve hardly mastered this, by the way) I have a good friend who recently had a baby with his wife and the child had all sorts of health complications – open heart surgery a few days after the birth, chromosomal irregularities, all manner of really serious stuff. Anyway, I was taking with this friend of mine and he said something so wise about his son and all that had happened it just broke my heart. He said, “I keep asking myself, ‘What promise was broken?’” I guess it’s never really what happens. It’s our response to it that matters and determines the course of things and the person we become. Sorry, that all got a little heavy… TV, sitcom, laugh haha, yeah the cast totally gets along…

Here’s another quote I like: "You worry, you die. You don't worry, you die." Someone told me they saw that spray-painted by a freeway. It’s weird, we have this unspoken cultural assumption (or at least my mother does) that worry is going to get us somewhere. A lot of it is, I think, this mistaken belief that we’re saving ourselves some heartache by outlining all the ways everything could go wrong, so if one of them comes to pass, we won’t be so shocked. But it seems none of them ever come to pass, so all we’ve really done is raised our blood pressure. The idea of something horrible happening is so much worse than something actually horrible happening. Does that make sense? Lately, I find my ‘mind’ to be a kind of scary place to go without adult supervision. I can totally freak the shit out of myself with zero evidence. (Why aren’t we more suspicious of our own thoughts? Just a thought…) But if and when something goes ‘wrong’ (which is really just an opinion anyway, the whole notion of something going ‘wrong’) I find I’m able to act bravely and decisively – all the ways I assume I won’t be able to act in my imaginary disaster scenario. And this seems so fucking morbid, but I find I’m happier if I keep the very real fact of my own death at the front of my consciousness.

And here’s my current favorite quote, from German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer: "It is difficult to find happiness in oneself, yet it is impossible to find it anywhere else." You and I live in the world capital of illusions – not only do we create and export a kind of fantasy world to the rest of the world, but the town itself runs on the illusion that stuff and status are the source of happiness. I had a real gift in my life and that was early success. I starred on Broadway at 27 and I starred in a TV show at 31. It didn’t save me from any kind of pain. In fact, it brought on a newer, more acute kind of pain. “Why aren’t I happy?” I would think. “This is what I wanted.” (A version of this exists, by the way, at law firms. It’s called “Post-partner depression.”) I’m really happy with my job now and I don’t want this to be seen as bitching about opportunities that so many people covet. It’s just the reality of these things was way more complicated than I could have foreseen. It was a great gift, ultimately, to be armed with the experiential knowledge that “success” only soothes a dim pain for awhile, but never extinguishes it. What’s the true source of happiness, I wondered? I don’t think we’re put here to suffer and I don’t think suffering is all that noble. Maybe that’s cause I’m a big fucking baby, I don’t know. My happiest moments are when I don’t wish myself to be anywhere other than where I am. When there’s a quiet contentment. I also really like being at Burning Man, which is not at all quiet. (I’m kind of a hippie, but the kind that bathes...)

2) Also...you are the star of a hit TV series and where some people can fall prey to the shine of it, you seem to grow more humble from it. What has kept you such a human being?

Hmm. Thanks for calling me a “human being.” It never made sense to me that people would achieve any kind of success in show business and use that opportunity to become an asshole. I have this crazy theory that success in this business should make you nicer – you’re being incredibly well-paid to do something very few people get the chance to do. At the very least, you can be polite. But beyond that, I think it should free you up to become better, more of the things that make you your best self. Oscar Wilde has this great quote about how fame doesn’t change people, it unmasks them. So I guess if you’re a latent insecure asshole, great opportunities in show business will just water those particular weeds.

But if you have an interest in not being an asshole, as I do, it can be an amazing opportunity to do some pretty deep work on yourself. The biggest anchor for me over the last few years has been meditation. I’ve been meditating twice a day for about three and a half years. Initially, I was worried it would turn me into some California fruitcake (which is how I might come off to some based on how I’m answering these questions) but I find instead of detaching me, meditation keeps me more engaged. If you’re finding yourself more detached from life, you’re meditating wrong. I learned this quote via David Foster Wallace: (His 2005 commencement address at Kenyon College should be required reading: HYPERLINK "http://www.marginalia.org/dfw_kenyon_commencement.html" http://www.marginalia.org/dfw_kenyon_commencement.html) “The mind is a wonderful servant and a terrible master.” If I let my mind lead, I am fucked to the tenth power. It’s reflexively designed to seek out dissatisfaction. So it takes amazing vigilance to a) Quiet the mind and b) Seek out something besides that dissatisfaction. The antidote to dissatisfaction, I’ve found, is gratitude. Cause if you’re really paying attention, and you’ve taken steps to quiet your mind, there’s infinitely more for which to be grateful than upset by.

3) And, you seem to know that nothing in this precarious business is a forever thing, so you continue to explore yourself and your artistry in many ways...why isn't the "day job" enough to hang your hat on...or is it?

Well, it is the best day job in the world. I have come to that realization. But here we reach an interesting paradox: How do we remain “present” and content with the moment we’re in, while at the same time taking steps towards advancement, in our career and elsewhere. I’m still working on that one. I find that when I’m present and not obsessing about the future, I can kind of sense what needs to be done in the moment, I’m more open to inspiration and I take action. Currently, I’m writing a book, I’m trying to sell a movie I wrote, I haven’t become a recluse or a renunciate. I’m still a little shocked that I’m on TV, even as we’re well into our third season – I have these moments when I go, “Fuck, I’m from Ohio. I grew up watching ‘Family Ties’ and now Michael Gross plays my dad.” For whatever reason, I can’t shake the feeling that all of this is pretty awesome. I don’t know if I’ll ever take it for granted. Being on a television show is totally cool. But not being on a television show was cool, too. And one day, Ted’s gonna meet the woman he’ll marry or CBS will just get tired of us or something and then I won’t be on a TV show. If I’m devastated, I’ll just reread some of those quotes from above. I also think about something my dad used to tell me, and this goes back to not being an asshole. He told me character doesn’t count in the short term, it counts in the long term. I really dig that. A lot of what gets attention in Hollywood is what’s happening NOW, who’s happening NOW. I’ve never been a person who wants all eyes in a room focused on me. If someone’s louder and more desperate for attention, I’m like, cool, take it. That might not always serve me, career-wise, but I don’t know any other way to be. It’s how I’m wired. I think you’re a cool motherfucker, Matty B. I’m glad we’re friends.

Bruce Springsteen

My friend Abe just called me and asked me to download this song. I forgot about this slice of brilliance. Thanks, Abe. I suggest and immediate download.

DEVILS AND DUST

I got my finger on the trigger
But I don't know who to trust
When I look into your eyes
There's just devils and dust
We're a long, long way from home, Bobbie
Home's a long, long way from us
I feel a dirty wind blowing
Devils and dust

I got God on my side
And I'm just trying to survive
What if what you do to survive
Kills the things you love
Fear's a powerful thing, baby
It can turn your heart black you can trust
It'll take your God filled soul
And fill it with devils and dust

Well I dreamed of you last night
In a field of blood and stone
The blood began to dry
The smell began to rise
Well I dreamed of you last night, Bobbie
In a field of mud and bone
Your blood began to dry
And the smell began to rise

We've got God on our side
We're just trying to survive
What if what you do to survive
Kills the things you love
Fear's a powerful thing
It'll turn your heart black you can trust
It'll take your God filled soul
Fill it with devils and dust
It'll take your God filled soul
Fill it with devils and dust

[ harmonica ]

Now every woman and every man
They wanna take a righteous stand
Find the love that God wills
And the faith that He commands
I've got my finger on the trigger
And tonight faith just ain't enough
When I look inside my heart
There's just devils and dust

Well I've got God on my side
And I'm just trying to survive
What if what you do to survive
Kills the things you love
Fear's a dangerous thing
It can turn your heart black you can trust
It'll take your God filled soul
Fill it with devils and dust
Yeah it'll take your God filled soul
Fill it with devils and dust

New From Stacey In Brooklyn

Let me preface Stacey's entry by saying that I am so glad she is sharing her stories, thoughts, heartbeat on this BLOG.

now, here is Stacey:

Since the last time I wrote, I thought I knew exactly how I was going to
progress with this blog thing…I was going to write chapter to chapter,
year to year, experience to experience of what I feel has carried me to
this point in life. I have to excuse that structure cause I have the
most amazing experience to share. Maybe then I will continue the
original script but for now excuse this brief interruption.

Almost a month ago was the 9.11 anniversary. I do live in NYC, well
Crooklyn, so it affects me greatly. I was here when it happened and
each year feels just about the same. You see the faces on the subway
if u have the balls to actually ride one that day. The faces on the
sidewalks, in each store you enter, literally everywhere….sadness
floats like a thick haze, hot and humid. I went to work and came home
that night…I flipped through my tevo and was thrilled to see Oprahs
new season had begun airing. This particular episode, the children and
families of 9.11. My heart sank, should I watch it should I wait,
should I skip it all together. Now, Stacey looooooves Oprah, children,
real honest stories, and yes…sometimes I do like to cry, so I pushed
start.

The tears that fell that early evening, stained my cheeks with black
lines from not wearing my waterproof mascara that day and made my puppy
look at me in that loving way she does. My sadness was overwhelming.
I felt empty for our world, for the families, for me…not being able to
do anything more for these people. The kids, oh my god…to hear their
wishes and dreams shattered, the innocent voice that they spoke with
clarity and honesty, how they missed their father or mother, sister,
brother…didn’t matter who or the connection that bonded them….they
were gone. The held pictures and pillows with a t shirts on top so
they could “hug” their daddy before bed and in the morning. They
still stand in front of the door waiting for them to come home, or cant
sleep at night cause of the visions they see or miss too much. I mean
I’m crying just writing this.

I wish for each person to have seen this taping.

At the end of the show, I saw something, a mother with five children who
told her story. A man named Steven Siller. A fire fighter from
Brooklyn New York. I froze. My vision so blurry from my tears but my
ears hearing everything loud and clear. To summarize, Firefighter
Steven Siller was just off duty on his way home, he heard on his radio
the world trade center was hit right after the first plane. He turned
his truck around to drive through the Battery Tunnel to get to the West
side. At this point the Battery Tunnel was closed. He wasn’t
allowed to drive through. This is how the story goes, he got out of
his truck, put on 75lbs of his fire gear, everything, and sprinted with
all his might to WTC, now ground zero. He was last seen near Liberty
and West Street. This man ran to save his world, the world we all
share.

Oprah mentioned a run that the Siller family puts together every year
since the attack…she mentioned the website tunneltotowers.org. I
caught my breath and went to the site immediately. I looked at
pictures, read his biography, news coverage, everything…took me a long
time but I did. At that moment I knew what I could do. I entered the
charity run. 50 dollar donation, 3.1 miles run, tracking his footsteps
from the day he was going to save his world.

I know three miles doesn’t seem that long but from a girl who hates to
run outside with a bad knee, its was a challenge. I decided to run 5
days a week from that point on. I would come home from work, and run
in the dark as far as I possibly could. I changed my diet so I would
have the energy I needed….everyone was telling me to eat carbs, which
I try so hard not toJ but I did for this. Each week my runs became
longer and longer, running across the Brooklyn bridge and back, running
along the FDR, running through the cobble stone streets in my brownstone
neighborhood, running through prospect park…I mean I ran
everywhere…but it felt so good! My body and heart were more
connected than ever.

Yesterday was the run. Now I’m not sure words can express what one
feels going through that tunnel, that run, seeing the families the
faces, the crowd, the energy. I have never ever in my 31 years of
living ever felt like an angel. Yesterday I did. An angel that was
floating with all the other participants, families, supporters, but
mostly spirits from those who sacrificed their lives and the innocent
victims of that day that changed our world, our souls. It started in
Brooklyn, Red Hook, right before the entrance of the Battery Tunnel and
ended next to ground zero. The tunnel lined with men and woman with
our flag standing upright and banners of black and white faces staring
at me as I ran. Screaming over powered my ipod. I could barely
breathe cause I was a lil claustrophobic but I ended up taking off
almost all my clothes, the lighter the better at that point. Anyway, I
reached the end of that tunnel, saw the light. Saw crowds of people, I
mean hundreds lined the streets. There were bands, cheerleaders,
horses, everything, you name it, I saw it that day. I ran passed the
water on the west side over to liberty street. I high-five people on
my way. I was no longer hearing Kanye West blaring in my ears. I was
deaf by my vision. I saw the finish line and sprinted. Crossing that
line was one of the biggest accomplishments of my adult life. This
experience is up there with graduate school. It was surreal, like I
may have dreamt it. But I think it was real. My heart was full, not
empty or lost. I gave back anonymously but with all of me, all 115% of
Stacey.Painful discovery is the most heartfelt, the most genuine, the
most we can do, when it comes from our angelic soul.

Editing As A Metaphor For Life

My producing partner and I have just finished our final cut on my TV presentation of "RICH WHORES: A FAIRYTALE." I have referenced this show in previous blog posts and explained the ups and downs of the editing process, the sometimes painful moments of hearing negative opinions about the cuts.

Let me nutshell this. The first edit was 13 minutes. The second 8 minutes. Then 5. Now it is just about 3 minutes long. And it is amazing. It is funny and full and clear.

When we were in our first, 13 minute edit, I could not fathom changing anything. Could not fathom losing anything, any character or scene. So we screened it for people. Every single person had a very different opinion, but most everyone had one. So we listened. And we paused and discussed. And we sighed. And we were bummed. And then elated and then super bummed again. And we trudged forward to cut and cut and paste and cut right down to a slimmer, more concise, less packed 3 minutes. Had I known at that 13 minute edit to change all of things we changed and size it, then and there, to 3 minutes--i would have--but i would not have learned much.

Through this month of cutting I have learned that you must GO THRU TO COME OUT. You have take the hits, the punches, the opinions, the good and bad. Take them and sit with them and then go at it again. I remembered that no good movie is shot and edited and put into theaters. They screen each cut, often 3 or more cuts. They get feedback and then they go again. They go thru the process to land out with a satisfying product.

You can't say "I want to be skinny" and wake up thin. You have to stop eating pies and pizzas and candy. And you have to work out. And drink water. And do that again the next day and the day after that. Then you can be skinny.

Can't put a record out without writing the songs, recording it, mastering it, throwing out the bad songs and keeping the good.

Can't graduate college without the classroom credits.

Can't have a final edit without the first few. The first few that allowed you to see clearly, then more clearly the things to make it Better And Better.

From Stacey In Brooklyn

DO I TALK FROM MY HEART OR MY HEAD….BOTH WELL, SIMUTANEOUSLY TENDS
TO OVERWHELM ME. TOO MANY THOUGHTS CAN TEND TO HURT MY HEART, SELF
DESTRUCT OR BE TERRIBLY DISAPPOINTED WITH WHO I AM ALL TOGETHER.

I LIKE TO CALL THIS ALL MY BEAUTIFUL “COMPARTMENTS”

I THINK SOMEWHERE I GOT LOST. I MEAN I THINK I RAN AWAY AS A LITTLE
GIRL AND POSSIBLY STILL WANDERING, DESPERATELY TRYING TO LOSE MY SHADOW
BUT KINDA TRYING TO FOLLOW IT TO LEARN THE REAL ME. I STARTED THIS
BOOK AFTER COLLEGE CALLED “WHAT SHE REALLY THINKS” IT’S A SPOKEN
WORD, NOT DIARY, OF WHAT GOES ON..IN THE HEAD AT TIMES SURFACELY OR THE
HEART, WHEN ITS REALLY RAW.

AS AN ARTIST I WONDERED WHAT MY PLACE IN THIS WORLD WOULD BE. I WAS
NEVER THE BEST IN MY CLASS, OR THE SMARTEST, OR MOST TALENTED. I
CERTAINLY DIDN’T BELIEVE IN MY ARTISTIC ABILITY. I WAS THE DAUGHTER
THAT PARENTS DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH, WELL I DIDN’T GET HIGH
SCORES ON MY SAT’S WE CAN SAY. I STRUGGLED A LOT, AND SOOOOO
INSECURE. SO “THEY” DECIDED TO SEND ME TO ART SCHOOL. I DID LIKE
TAKING ART CLASSES CAUSE IT WASN’T MATH OR SCIENCE AND I COULD BE
ME…COLOR AND DESIGN I THOGUHT EXPRESSED MY THOUGHTS. BUT TO SAY I
WAS GOOD, WELL….THATS A DIFFERENT STORY. I TRIED TO RIG THE
HIGHSCHOOL MOST TALENTED FOR ARTIST ABILITY. SHHHH, NO ONE KNOWS THAT,
CAUSE I KNEW I WOULDN’T WIN.

I MEAN THE ANXIETY I HAD BEFORE A PORTFOLIO REVIEW OR CRITIQUE, I WOULD
CRY FOR HOURS THINKING OF THE WAYS I WOULDN’T HAVE TO PRESENT. COULD
I B LAST, GO TO THE BATHROOM AT THE PERFECT TIME, MAYBE TEAR UP SO MY
PROFESSOR WOULD C I WAS DYING INSIDE. I WAS NEVER GOOD ENOUGH.

TIME SKIPPED:

I WAS GRADUATIING COLLEGE AND HAD NO CLUE WHAT TO DO OR WHERE TO GO. I
DID KNOW I WASN’T GOING TO LIVE IN MY PARENTS BASEMENT. THAT WOULD
BE THE DEATH OF ME. I APPLIED TO GRADUATE SCHOOL IN NYC. I COULD
LIVE WITH MY SISTER AND EXPERIENCE NYC. LITTLE DID I KNOW I WAS GOING
TO SHARE, LITERALLY, A BED WITH MY SISTER FOR 3 YEARS, WORK PART TIME
STOCKIN SOCKS IN MACYS AND STRUGGLING WITH MY INSECURITY WITH NEW
AMAZING NYU ARTISTS. WHY WOULD I EVER THINK I COULD FIT IN AT NYU ART
SCHOOL…I MUST HAVE BEEN CRAZY. I THOUGHT I WAS GROWING UP BUT I
WASN’T. I WAS EVEN MORE TRAPPED CASUE I WAS STARTING OVER AT THE AGE
OF 22. THIS IS WHEN I STARTED WRITING. IT WAS SOMETHING I KNEW I WAS
GOOD AT. I COULD EXPRESS MYSELF AND NO ONE HAD TO CRITIQUE IT. I
COULD BE ME WITH NO BOUNDRIES, JUST THOUGHTS PAPER AND INK. HOW COULD
THAT BE BAD? WELL, MY WORDS BECAME DISTURBING I WOULD NOTICE. I WAS
SUCH A SAD GIRL. WAITING TO BE LIFTED, FOUND, NURTURED…WHO WOULD DO
THIS FOR ME? WELL TIME CAME AND WENT, EXCEPT FOR ONE DAY I REMEMBER
EVER SO CLEAR THAT LOOKING BACK NOW WAS THE MOMENT THAT CHANGED ME.

I WAS IN MY EARLY CHILDHOOD PSYCHOLOGY CLASS, PASSING IN AN
ASSIGNMENT. IT WAS TITLED “STACEY.” MY PROFESSOR TOOK ALL THE
PAPERS LEFT AND WHEN WE WENT BACK THE FOR THE FOLLOWING CLASS, HE CALLED
ME UP TO HIS DESK AT THE END OF CLASS. GIL TRACHTMAN, PROBABALY IN HIS
60’S, SHORT, THIN SOMEWHAT FRAIL, GRAY HAIR, PRETTY LONG, LONG GRAY
BEARD, JEWISH FOR SURE. HE SAYS “STACEY I CANT GRADE THIS, THIS IS A
PAPER TOO DEEPLY ROOTED IN YOU THAT ITS IMPOSSIBLE TO GIVE A NUMBER OR
LETTER TO SIGNIFY THE EMOTION IN THE WORDS.”

I STARTED CRYING. AT THAT MOMENT I THINK I SAW MY SHADOW, NOT
REFLECTION, IT WAS JUST A SHADOW. I WROTE WORDS ON THAT PAPER THAT I
HAD NEVER SHARED WITH ANYONE. SO STRANGE BUT TRUE, I SHARED WITH A
STRANGER. I WANTED SOMEONE NEW TO GUIDE ME, FIND ME, AND SOMEWHAT,
LOVE ME.

THS MAN INVITED ME TO HIS OFFICE FOR TALKS, THE DINER FOR COFFEE AND
TALKS, EMAILS TO REMIND ME TO TALK…BEGGED ME TO SEE A SHRINK. I
DENIED THE THOUGHT OF SHRINKS FOR A VERY VERY LONG TIME. I WAS
ACTUALLY ANTI SHRINK. I THINK CAUSE PEOPLE MAKE THEM SOUND SCARY, OR
WOULD THINKOF ME AS SCARY. I SUFFERED FOR A LONG TIME BEFORE I
ACTUALLY GAVE INTO THERAPY. YEARS!

I WROTE TO GIL TRACHTMAN ASKING IF I COULD COME TO HIS OFFICE, THIS TIME
I WAS OUT OF GRAD SCHOOL, I BOUGHT HIM THE BOOK TUESDAYS WITH MORRIE.
I HANDED IT TO HIM, CRIED AND THANKED HIM. HE TEARED, KINDA SMIRKED AND
A LIL CHUCKLE, SAYING “I GET THIS BOOK ALL THE TIME.” WELL, FOR
ME….I WANT TO SAY I WAS DEVASTATED, BUT I WASN’T. I WAS SO HAPPY I
FOUND MY MORRIE, AND SO MANY OTHERS DID TOOJ

TO THIS DAY, I STILL GET BIRTHDAY EMAILS EVERY YEAR, CHECK INS TO SEE
HOW IM HOLDING UP, WHAT IM DOING, HOW MY FAMILY IS…AND REPORTS ON HIM,
HIS WIFE, SONS, GRANDCHILDREN.

THIS MAN, PROFESSOR GIL TRACHTMAN BROUGHT THE COURAGE TO BEGIN MY
STRUGGLE BETWEEN MY HEAD AND MY HEART.

AND SO MY LIFE BEGAN…..

~AT THE TOUCH OF LOVE, EVERYONE BECOMES A POET~

Meredith's Inspirational Song

Carole King - Beautiful-


You´ve got to get up every morning with a smile on your face
And show the world all the love in your heart
Then people gonna treat you better
You´re gonna find, yes you will
That you´re as beautiful as you feel.

Waiting at the station with a workday wind a-blowing
I´ve got nothing to do but watch the passers-by
Mirrored in their faces I see frustration growing
And they don´t see it showing, why do I?

You´ve got to get up every morning with a smile on your face
And show the world all the love in your heart
Then people gonna treat you better
You´re gonna find, yes you will
That you´re beautiful as you feel.

I have often asked myself the reason for the sadness
In a world where tears are just a lullabye
If there´s any answer, maybe love can end the madness
Maybe not, oh but we can only try.

You´ve got to get up every morning with a smile on your face
And show the world all the love in your heart
Then people gonna treat you better
You´re gonna find, yes you will
That you´re beautiful as you feel.

Your Words

Your words, your comments, you guys have really been so helpful for me. I have had awakenings everyday. I feel great. I also feel equipped, today anyhow, to walk through the next low. To climb out of the next k-hole. I know there will be many. And today I feel the strength and courage to be okay with the dark the same way I am okay with the light.

I am feeling more and more like my 8 year old self. I flipped through vintage pictures of my childhood and I was in awe of ME. I love the kid in those photos. He was glowing. Smiling. Making faces and wearing capes and costumes and whistling with cowboy boots and hats and bigwheels and candy and garbage pail kids. Pictures of me watching The Cosby Show, Family Ties, Facts of Life and General Hospital. Pictures of me with a cast after breaking my leg playing basketball (first and last time...jewish alert/theater geek alert). Pictures of me as Conrad Birdie in Bye Bye Birdie: 8th grade. Me in Fame: 9th grade. Me..as a kid, dreaming of greatness. Me, high on laughter and warmth and love. Nothing else.

Maybe look at some of your photos of YOU at your most innocent. You will fall in love with YOU, too. And you will take that big, deep breath and say "i want that now..I want that again." And you will wake up every morning and say "that's the person I am going to be today...my 8 year old self."

Thanks for taking this journey with me.

Up to the mountain lyrics

I love this song by Patty Griffin. Yes, I suggest a download today. This is from her "Children Running Through" album.

Up To The Mountains (MLK Song)
--patty griffin

I went up to the mountain
Because you asked me to
Up over the clouds
To where the sky was blue
I could see all around me
Everywhere
I could see all around me
Everywhere

Sometimes I feel like
I never been nothing but tired
And I'll be working
Till the day I expire
Sometimes I lay down
No more can I do
But then I go on again
Because you ask me to

Some days I look down
Afraid I will fall
And though the sun shines
I see nothing at all
Then I hear your sweet voice
Come and then go
Telling me softly

You love me so

The peaceful valley
Just over the mountain
The peaceful valley
Few come to know
I may never get there
Ever in this lifetime
But sooner or later
It's there I will go
Sooner or later
It's there I will go

Art Can Still Change Us

I am listening to the Into The Wild soundtrack. Eddie Veder, man it is good to hear his brilliance again. I can not shake this film and I don't want to.

My friend just instant messaged me. My friend, also blown to a new, beautiful place from Into The Wild typed this: "The movie changed me. It's like a new found confidence that is completely covered with love."

INTO THE WILD

Q&A with John Palumbo

John Palumbo is a wizard of forward thinking. His everyday is an explosion of possibility. He invents new ways to think about old and new things. His mind churns and churns thoughts of how to market the things we buy and use. But he is not the way you might imagine a marketing person. He is more of Tom Hanks in BIG. He is unabashedly child-like and explorative. John started his own marketing empire a couple of years ago. He has and will continue to change the face of the way we see our everyday things. He inspires me. I think he will inspire you, too.

John's quote:

"vision without activation is hallucination" --albert einstein

John says:

"in my business (as in many) great ideas are a dime a dozen. it's the
ideas that can truly be executed that lead to success. so, we provide
clients with ideas, insights and inspiration...and go one step further
to show them how they can really get them done and the impact they will
have on their business

I think you're always nervous and apprehensive when you are going to
put yourself out there and try something new. however, the thing that
motivates you to give it a shot is having that gut feeling that you are
doing something that makes sense. if you believe it...others will too.
energy and enthusiasm are contagious. when you meet someone that is so
passionate about something they are doing....you want to get involved.
steve jobs is a great example, isn't he. the guy gets up on stage and
is so freakin' passionate about this new phone that does this and
that...and we all go crazy and line up for the damn thing. let me say that again
-we LINE up for it...a phone! are you kidding me?

one more thing...never...never...never.

..ask people if they think your
idea is a good one. that is the kiss of death because 9 times out of
10
they will shoot it down. it has nothing to do with them being cynical,
etc. they just don't share the same passion you do...and human nature
leads us to "poke holes"...not "fill them"

bob dylan did an interview with 60 minutes a while back and was talking
about "destiny." he said he knew that he would become who is he today
but
he NEVER told anyone about it because they wouldn't get it. simply
put,
they would burst his bubble. his advice - you'll FEEL your destiny at
some point...you'll literally picture it in your mind...but don't ever
tell anyone about it. your destiny is a personal thing.

I know that sounds all heady and this or that...but when you break it
down
to its essence it's really great advice. if you have an idea...go and
do
it. pull the fucking trigger and make it happen. if it doesn't work,
so
be it...at least you tried"

Into The Wild

Just go see this film. You will be so grateful that you did. I am. It is masterful. I am still processing it and will for a while I think. The one thing I can say right now, though...one of the many things that came through with such intense power is this:

We all need each other and sometimes through you I can feel closer to my brother or mother or father. Through you I can understand things I never understood before. Through you I can, sometimes, get closer to me.

SEE THIS MOVIE and prepare yourself for the following: You will think Sean Penn is as genius a writer/director as he is an actor. You will root for Emile Hirsch to win an Oscar and you will secretly think you discovered him. And most of all, you will want our conversation, Happy On The Painful Road, to grow and grow and move and shake and trigger and effect and cause spark, inspiration and difference.

"It is easy, when you are young, to believe that what you desire is no less than what you deserve, to assume that if you want something badly enough , it is your God-given right to have it. . . I was a raw youth who mistook passion for insight and acted according to an obscure, gap-ridden logic. I thought climbing the Devils Thumb would fix all that was wrong with my life. In the end, of course, it changed almost nothing. But I came to appreciate that mountains make poor receptacles for dreams. And I lived to tell my tale."

-Jon Krakauer, Into The Wild

Sent In From Jennifer

A sweet story with a simple yet meaningful point.

This is a wonderful piece by Michael Gartner, editor of newspapers large and small and president of NBC News. In 1997, he won the Pulitzer Prize for editorial writing. It is well worth reading, and a few good chuckles are guaranteed.

"My father never drove a car. Well, that's not quite right. I should say I never saw him drive a car. He quit driving in 1927, when he was 25 years old, and the last car
>>> he drove was a 1926 Whippet.
>>>
>>> "In those days," he told me when he was in his 90s, "to drive a car
>>> you had to do things with your hands, and do things with your feet,
>>> and look every which way, and I decided you could walk through life
>>> and enjoy it or drive through life and miss it."
>>>
>>> At which point my mother, a sometimes salty Irishwoman, chimed in:
>>> "Oh, bull----!" she said. "He hit a horse."
>>>
>>> "Well," my father said, "there was that, too."
>>>
>>> So my brother and I grew up in a household without a car. The n
>>> eighbors all had cars -- the Kollingses next door had a green 1941
>>> Dodge, the Van Laninghams across the street a gray 1936 Plymouth, the
>>> Hopsons two doors down a black 1941 Ford -- but we had none.
>>>
>>> My father, a newspaperman in Des Moines, would take the streetcar to
>>> work and, often as not, walk the 3 miles home. If he took the
>>> streetcar home, my mother and brother and I would walk the three
>>> blocks to the streetcar stop, meet him and walk home together.
>>>
>>> My brother, David, was born in 1935, and I was born in 1938, and
>>> sometimes, at dinner, we 'd ask how come all the neighbors had cars
>>> but we had none. "No one in the family drives," my mother would
>>> explain, and that was that.
>>>
>>> But, sometimes, my father would say, "But as soon as one of you boys
>>> turns 16, we'll get one." It was as if he wasn't sure which one of us
>>> would tur n 16 first.
>>>
>>> But, sure enough, my brother turned 16 before I did, so in 1951 my
>>> parents bought a used 1950 Chevrolet from a friend who ran the parts
>>> department at a Chevy dealership downtown.
>>>
>>> It was a four-door, white model, stick shift, fender skirts, loaded
>>> with everything, and, since my parents didn't drive, it more or less
>>> became my brother's car.
>>>
>>> Having a car but not being able to drive didn't bother my father, but
>>> it didn't make sense to my mother.
>>>
>>> So in 1952, when she was 43 years old, she asked a friend to teach
>>> her to drive. She learned in a nearby cemetery, the place where I
>>> learned to drive the following year and where, a generation later, I
>>> took my two sons t o practice driving. The cemetery probably was my
>>> father's idea. "Who can your mother hurt in the cemetery?" I remember
>>> him saying more than once.
>>>
>>> For the next 45 years or so, until she was 90, my mother was the
>>> driver in the family. Neither she nor my father had any sense of
>>> direct ion, but he loaded up on maps -- though they seldom left the
>>> city limits -- and appointed himself navigator. It seemed to work.
>>>
>>> Still, they both continued to walk a lot. My mother was a devout
>>> Catholic, and my father an equally devout agnostic, an arrangement
>>> that didn't seem to bother either of them through their 75 years of
>>> marriage.
>>>
>>> (Yes, 75 years, and they were deeply in love the entire time.)
>>>
>>> He retired when he was 70, and nearly every morning for the next 20
>>> years or so, he would walk with her the mile to St. Augustin's
>>> Church. She would walk down and sit in the front pew, and he would
>>> wait in the back until he saw which of the parish's two priests was
>>> on duty that mornin g. If it was the pastor, my father then would go
>>> out and take a 2-mile walk, meeting my mother at the end of the
>>> service and walking her home.
>>>
>>> If it was the assistant pastor, he'd take just a 1-mile walk and then
>>> head back to the church. He called the priests "Father Fast" and "Fa
>>> ther Slow."
>>>
>>> After he retired, my father almost always accompanied my mother
>>> whenever she drove anywhere, even if he had no reason to go along. If
>>> she were going to the beauty parlor, he'd sit in the car and read, or
>>> go take a stroll or, if it was summer, have her keep the engine
>>> running so he could listen to the Cubs game on the radio. In the
>>> evening, then, when I'd stop by, he'd explain: "The Cubs lost again.
>>> The millionaire on second base made a bad throw to the millionaire on
>>> first base, so the multimillionaire on third base scored."
>>>
>>> If she were going to the grocery store, he would go along to carry
>>> the bags out -- and to make sure she loaded up on ice cream. As I
>>> said, he was alway s the navigator, and once, when he was 95 and she
>>> was 88 and still driving, he said to me, "Do you want to know the
>>> secret of a long life?"
>>>
>>> "I guess so," I said, knowing it probably would be something bizarre.
>>>
>>> "No left turns," he said.
>>>
>>> "What?" I asked.
>>>
>>> "No left turns," he repeated. "Several years ago, your mother and I
>>> read an article that said most accidents that old people are in,
>>> happen when they turn left in front of oncoming traffic.
>>>
>>> As you get older, your eyesight worsens, and you can lose your depth
>>> perception, it said. So your mother and I decided never again to make
>>> a left turn."
>>>
>>> "What?" I said again.
>>>
>>> "No left turns," he said. "Think about it. Three rights are the same
>>> as a left, and that's a lot safer. So we always make three rig hts."
>>>
>>> "You're kidding!" I said, and I turned to my mother for support.
>>> "No," she said, "your father is right. We make three rights. It
>>> works." But then she added: "Except when your father loses count."
>>>
>>> I was driving at the time, and I almost drove o ff the road as I
>>> started laughing.
>>>
>>> "Loses count?" I asked.
>>>
>>> "Yes," my father admitted, "that sometimes happens. But it's not a
>>> problem. You just make seven rights, and you're okay again."
>>>
>>> I couldn't resist. "Do you ever go for 11?" I asked.
>>>
>>> "No," he said "If we miss it at seven, we just come home and call it
>>> a bad day. Besides, nothing in life is so important it can't be put
>>> off another day or another week."
>>>
>>> My mother was never in an accident, but one evening she handed me her
>>> car keys and said she had decided to quit driving. That was in 1999,
>>> when she was 90.
>>>
>>> She lived four more years, until 2003. My father died the next year,
>>> at 102.
>>> They both died in the bungalow they had moved into in 1937 and bought
>>> a few years later for $3,000. (Sixty years later, my brother and I
>>> paid $8,000 to have a shower put in the tiny bathroom -- the house
>>> had never had one. My father would have died then and there if he
>>> knew the shower cost nearly thre e times what he paid for the house.)
>>>
>>> He continued to walk daily -- he had me get him a treadmill when he
>>> was 101 because he was afraid he'd fall on the icy sidewalks but
>>> wanted to keep exercising -- and he was of sound mind and sound body
>>> until the moment he died.
>>>
>>> One September afternoon in 2004, he and my son went with me when I
>>> had to give a talk in a neighboring town, and it was clear to all
>>> three of us that he was wearing out, though we had the usual
>>> wide-ranging conversation about politics and newspapers and things in
>>> the news.
>>>
>>> A few weeks earlier, he had told my son, "You know, Mike, the first
>>> hundred years are a lot easier than the second hundred." At one point
>>> in our drive that Saturday, he said, "You know, I'm probably not
>>> going to live much longer."
>>>
>>> "You're probably right," I said.
>>>
>>> "Why would you say that?" He countered, somewhat irritated.
>
> "Because you're 102 years old," I said.
>
> "Yes," he said, "you're right." He stayed in bed all the next day.
>
> That night, I suggested to my son and daughter that we sit up with him
> through the night.
>
> He appreciated it, he said, though at one point, apparently seeing us
> look gloomy, he said:
>
> "I would like to make an announcement. No one in this room is dead yet"
>
> An hour or so later, he spoke his last words:
>
> "I want you to know," he said, clearly and lucidly, "that I am in no
> pain. I am very comfortable. And I have had as happy a life as anyone
> on this earth could ever have."
>
> A short time later, he died.
>
> I miss him a lot, and I think about him a lot. I've wondered now and
> then how it was that my family and I were so lucky that he lived so
> long.
>
> I can't figure out if it was because he walked through life. Or because
> he quit taking left turns.
> Life is too short to wake up with regrets. So love the people who treat
> you right. Forget about the one's who don't. Believe everything happens
> for a reason. If you get a chance, take it. If it changes your life,
> let it. Nobody said life would be easy, they just promised it would
> most likely be worth it.