Happy On The Painful Road

The Business of Friendship in Business

2010-02-25T13:11:00.000-08:00

My brother is an insurance broker. He lives in Scarsdale with his wife and three sons. They own a beautiful house. They have land. A golf course across the street. A woods in their backyard.
I am a writer and an actor. I live in Los Angeles. I rent a house. I have land but it is not mine. There is a golf course a mile away but I do not play golf. As for the woods, well, I can drive to some.
This week was terrible for me in business.
A few months ago, a successful television producer told me that he had just gotten a lucrative TV development deal. The deal would allow him to develop shows created by other writers. I have had some success in that world, having sold a handful of sitcoms and piloting one, so this prospect was exciting for me; creating something awesome and innovative for someone who could really help it come to fruition.
I worked tirelessly coming up with concepts, writing 20 page treatments. When this producer called to have a follow up lunch at the commissary of a huge TV studio, I was armed, stoked and confident.
At that lunch, while perusing the menus, the producer nervously informed me that “unfortunately, our development slate is full up. But we would love to develop with you next season.” I gasped, gulped, cried a little…all on the inside. On the outside, I was playing the role of an adult, a Hollywood guy who is not affected by anything. I was rolling with the punches all the while thinking about my newborn baby and my recently laid off wife. Shit! This could’ve been our sigh of relief. Damn it!
We ordered food. I wanted to be anywhere but there. ANYWHERE! As we squirm through the lunch (and all the while I am thinking “DUDE, WHY COULDN’T YOU TELL ME THIS OVER THE PHONE, TEXT, BBM, FACEBOOK, TWITTER EVEN..) the producer dangles another carrot. “One of the pilots we are developing…well, we all want you to play the lead.” I am a writer. I am an actor. But I thought I was having a writing lunch and now I am potentially the star of a show. My anxiety comes to a hault. “See, you always go with the flow, do the work and it will pay off. Just keep showing up. Keep showing your face. Be present” I tell myself.
Lunch is over. We hug. Oh, right, forgot to mention…we are friends. We met through business but over the years became friends. Had dinners. Went to each other’s birthdays, charity events, met for drinks, laughed, told each other how talented the other was. Friends. So, obvs, we hugged goodbye.
Four days ago I found out that the pilot that they all wanted me to star on was, drumroll, BEING MADE!! Well, I thought, I am one step closer to taking care of my family but moreso, the producer, my friend, wants me to play the lead of that show. This won’t be easy (nothing is) but it will be possible.
I text my friend, the producer. I write “congrats on the pilot. I hope I come in for it.” No response. Then I call my agents. Tell them that “this is the one, the show they wanted me for should it get made.” The agents call the producer and his team. The producer, my friend, calls my agents back and says “we don’t want to waste Matt’s time. We are going to have to cast a star.”
I have worked but I’m not nearly the star Snookie is. Or Tila Tequila. The realization. I AM NOT A STAR. Does that mean I should throw in the towel? Hang it up? What are you if you are not a star these days? If you get a coffee and no one snaps a photo did you really get a coffee?? Shit. I am just talented. Where the hell can that get me?
I then send the producer, my buddy, a text saying “My agents relayed the news. All good. Kick ass on your pilot.” At first I did not want to write that. I wanted to right ARE YOU SERIOUS? But then, I thought, this is business…they always want a star…suck it up. So I did. I sucked it up. And I sent that text.
I go to bed. Conscience is clear.
Wake up to a call from my agents that “they want you to come in for the pilot.”
What? How? Why? What could change in 24 hours? Didn’t want me. Not a star. Want a star. Now want me to audition? Hmmm. I did not trust it. But the agents did, or saw dollar signs, who knows. So I read the script a few times. Rehearse my scenes. Get the right outfit together. Make acting choices. I do what we do when we have to do this. I prepare.
I go to the audition. I sit in the waiting room. I sit near Meadow Soprano. She is beautiful. She gets up to go to the bathroom. I hear a door open. I hear my friend, the producer, stop Meadow and say “so glad you’re here. YOU’RE NOT NEXT RIGHT?” Meadow giggles and says “nope…just peeing.” My friend, the producer laughs.
Then the assistant comes out and calls “MATT.” That’s me. I walk to the casting room. And there is the casting director, two writers…but not my friend. NOT THE PRODUCER.
He left for my audition. He was there for everyone else in that waiting room. Then he left and he would return when I was in the elevator. He would return for Meadow Soprano…a star.
I walked to my car, so hurt. I was called in for pity’s sake. I was called in because he knew that I knew that he said they wanted me for that role but were no longer wanting me for that role.
What I don’t think he counted on was the sequence of events. Had he not opened the door to evacuate the casting room when Meadow Soprano walked by en route to pee…I NEVER WOULD HAVE HEARD HIS VOICE. IN THAT CASE, I WOULD HAVE BEEN MADE TO BELIEVE THAT HE JUST COULD NOT BE THERE. But, alas, he was there.
So, I just shared this story, a story that has really hurt my feelings, with my older brother. And he shared this with me:
I am doing a deal right now with these guys. I love these guys. I’d do anything for them. They’d do anything for me. Until I fuck up or they move on. Until they no longer want to work with me. But until then, WE ARE GREAT FRIENDS.
If what I can offer them is AWESOME but another broker’s offer is MORE AWESOME they are going with the other broker. And they will probably be really GOOD FRIENDS with that broker too. Until an even AWESOMER broker comes along.
These are friends that have to be compartmentalized. They are not from whence it came. They didn’t know you before you had hair on your balls. They didn’t share a bunk with you when you were banging sorority girls. They didn’t turn their tassles with you when you graduated high school or college. They didn’t know you as a person with dreams. As a kid from a town. As a…well…as a friend.
Aha moment anyone?
So, indeed, it is all the same across the board. I am you and you are me…
My dad has always told me that if you have a handful of friends in your life you are damn lucky. I do. I have that handful. So perhaps now, I can officially separate church and state…business and friendships.
This may be the beginning of the adulthood I’ve been so scared of stepping into. And as my brother told me...”you will be everything to your family that you aspire to be, with or without anyone’s promise for your future. Your future is you, in your hands, in your dreams.”

From Jennifer

2009-07-26T19:05:00.000-07:00

This is from my friend Jennifer who decided to pack up her life and leave it behind to discover herself and move it forward.

Fromheretoenlightenment.blogspot.com

Healing in Ubud

I have had a terrible case of writer's block over the past month in Bali or, as my mother cutely refers to it, “writer’s blog”. The experiences that I have had here are so surreal and beautiful that I feel like it would be almost impossible to adequately capture my experiences on a page. I could never do them justice but I will do my best.

The decision to come to Bali initially took place in December 2008 while I was in India for Ben and Ione’s wedding. It was my last night at Peedam and I had just experienced a private fire ceremony in the heart of Amma’s Golden Temple. My friends, Jo and Edo, were sitting in the dining room at the ashram and we were discussing dreams and my yearning to break free and travel for awhile. They mentioned that they might be going to Bali in June for a yoga retreat and would I be interested in joining them if they did. I was on such a high from the experience at the temple that I answered “yes!” without hesitation. There was simply no question that I needed to go. I am so happy that I listened to my intuition.

I booked the retreat while I was travelling in India in May. I did not know where I was going and never bothered to look up the Bagus Jati resort website. All I had was the date to arrive and an address. I was told that we would be located in Ubud, which I was really excited to experience since my last two weeks had been spent in Canggu which is more residential and not as hippie/ artsy as I understood Ubud to be. When I gave the address to Nyoman, the sweet taxi driver who had been taking such good care of me on my treks back and forth to the orphanage in Denpasar, he informed me that I would actually be staying a good ½ hour outside of Ubud. “You will be residing in the mountains, in the wilderness. It is a very beautiful, magical place.” He assured me.

Now I know I keep repeating throughout my journey that each place I have been to so far to be “breathtaking” and “mind blowing” but THIS place was unbelievable. I could have never have dreamed a dream as beautiful and serene as Bagus Jati. The property is located in the mountains, everywhere you look is green. My “room” was actually a self standing bungalow with a straw thatched roof. The interior was stunning with twin beds (my roommate was Dans, a yoga teacher from Australia, who I fell madly in love with) and the bathroom is equipped with massage tables. The landscape of the property is exquisite. We are living on multi tiered levels of what must have been rice fields at some point.

Each day of the retreat consisted of 2 daytime yoga classes, the evenings ended with Kirtan (devotional call and response chanting which is led by Edo and Jo and is quite possibly my favorite aspect of the retreat) and meditation. One day involved a gorgeous hike to the top of Mt Batur (1.717 Meters), a Balinese volcano, which began at 3 am. We arrived at the top for sunrise and proceeded to chant the Gayatri Mantra as the sun flooded the sky. Some of us proceeded to hike into a tiny cave inside the volcano and participated in an impromptu Puja ceremony which set my heart on fire once again.

The people that I met during the retreat are some of the kindest, most compassionate and inspiring friends I have ever made who came from all corners of the world: Australia, Germany, New Zealand, and the US. On our final day, one of our teachers led us in an exercise called “Angel Whispers” where one yogi at a time was blindfolded and was led around the circle and each of us whispered what we appreciated about them softly in their ear. I kept my hands on my heart the whole time for fear that it might leap out of my chest if I let go.

After the retreat, some of us decided to take an impromptu trip to the Gilli Islands which are located off the North East coast of Bali. We spent four blissful days of snorkeling, bike riding, surfing, boat riding and sun bathing.

I returned to Ubud with Jo, Edo, Kay and Chrissi and checked into the lovely Ubud Aura which has been my home now for over a month. The hotel is owned by the local Guru, Mr. Ketut Arsana. He is a healer who also runs the beautiful Bodyworks massage center and Ashram Munivara. My room looks over acres of rice patties and I am woken up each day by the sounds of roosters and local farmers scaring birds away from their crops.

We are located right next door to Yoga Barn, the main Ubud yoga studio which becomes my home away from home. I attend classes daily which range from various Yoga styles to Tai Chi to meditation to lectures about life and spirituality. I am amazed at how much there is to learn and I am fascinated by it all.

Some people come to Bali, specifically Ubud, from all corners of the world to heal; the healing can be physical, emotional, mental or spiritual. Whatever ailment or suffering you are going through, there is most likely someone here with a remedy for it. Although I was not ailing from anything specific, I was still curious and open to meet with healers per friends’ suggestions.

The first healer I visited with in Ubud was an elderly man named Jokrta Ray (sp?). He is supposedly in his mid to late 80s but looks about 60. He spoke very little English but lead me to sit down on the floor between his legs. He proceeded to dig his fingers into different parts of my head, some areas hurt more than others. He told me that all of my organs are functioning properly except my mind. “You think too much. Your mind is overactive.” He then layed me down on the floor and began to press into my toes with a wooden stick. As tears streamed down my face, he started to make some drawings on my stomach while chanting in Balinese. I was then sat up and told to look at myself “in the mirror every day and smile big, then swallow your smile and feel it in your heart, solar plexus and sex organs. Then bring the smile up to your face again. No more living in the past. No more living in the mind. Now is what you have. The present time is all that matters. Enjoy your life completely and laugh out loud every day.” He then patted me on the back and sent me on my way. When I met up with my friend Ged (my gorgeous English neighbor/ soul sister who has been living in Australia for the past year) afterwards, she said I was glowing. I had no idea what had just happened but something in me felt lighter.

The following day, Ged and I went to our appointment with Wayan, the female healer who became famous after Elizabeth Gilbert’s account of her in “Eat. Pray. Love.” My session at the Balinese Healing Center has been a definite highlight of my trip, an experience I will remember forever. Wayan is a nice looking Balinese woman with a spitfire personality. Her “office” opens onto the street and my initial “consultation” took place in front of complete strangers (this tends to be the norm with healers in Bali, there is no room for shyness or secrecy here). She began by examining my legs and back, looked into my eyes and at my tongue. Her assessment of everything was exactly right on point from the ligament issues that I have in my left knee to the lower back pain that I occasionally suffer from. She then read my palm which was also accurate. From there, I was escorted upstairs to a room where I was instructed to change into a sarong. I was then sat down on a chair and for the next hour and a half my body was scrubbed down with herbs, mud and potions by 2 to 3 people at a time. Wayan stood over me occasionally, chanting over my body and blowing on my stomach at random intervals. This was followed by an hour long massage, shower with herbs and the most delicious meal that I have had to date. At the end of the session, Wayan stood me in front of a mirror and asked me what I saw. I saw happiness. My skin and spirit were glowing. I feel grateful and fortunate. As I hugged Wayan goodbye, she whispered softly in my ear “you have a beautiful heart. Don’t get stuck in your mind. Live for today; not for yesterday. Now is all you have.” If I was a skeptic, I would have thought that the healer from the day before had called her up and warned her that I was coming but being a believer, I decide to take their guidance to heart. I too had something to heal, as do we all.

I have visited with psychics and Qi Gong teachers, spent days bathing in holy water with Balinese devotees, taken a trip to Nusa Lembongan (a little healing island just South of Bali) and even went in for a “chakra tune up” and so far the most healing experience I have had has been the time that I spend with the children at the orphanage teaching yoga. That is when I am most “present”, feel most grateful and most at peace. This is how I know that I have found my calling. When I look at photos that friends have taken of me teaching, I see the same “glow” in my face as the day I spent with Wayan. The children are my healers and my teachers and they are the reason I set out on this journey. If someone had told me 10 years ago while I was working as a publicist in New York, promoting Hip Hop stars and fashion designers, that I would end up teaching children yoga and meditation, I would have probably thought that they were crazy. And not crazy in a bad way, crazy in a “that’s too good to be true way". India and Bali have shown me that when you follow your heart and have faith in yourself, anything is possible.

Sending healing love and light from Ubud.
xoxo

So Many Boot Straps To Pull Up

2009-07-26T18:22:00.000-07:00

It seems right now that everyone is either getting laid off, decreased salaries, losing all their money in stocks, in Madoffs, in houses, in in in in...

We are totally and completely living in history. Just spoke with my friend who got laid off from a non-profit. A day later her fiance got laid off from a not-non-profit. Months ago my wife got laid off from a major NOT-non-profit...meaning she got canned from a place that makes millions every day. A place where certain higher ups buy coffee tables for their offices that cost far more than my wife's salary.

Those of us who are conscious have often sited the injustice in teacher's salaries. "A baseball player gets 20 million for two years while a school teacher can barely buy ramen noodles."

We can now open it up to much bigger conversation. We are all, in a sense, fucked. Except, ofcourse, if you are doing an online blog about famous people. Then you make a shit ton of funds because, as it stands, as we stand, we are so bored and tired of our own lives that we simply find it more interesting to see John (from John And Kate Plus 8) wearing Ed Hardy shirts. Then we make fun of his Ed Hardy shirts. Then Spencer and Heidi annoy us. And each time they annoy us another click is sent into the web-isphere and both the website and the talent-less car crashes on that site make money...while we get deeper into depression about our lay offs, our hard earned money disappearing and our ramen noodles tasting totally monotonous.

We are tired. We are young, starting our lives and fucking exhausted. How many times have you pulled yourself by the boot straps already? A lot. Too many times, I think, for our age. Start. Stop. Do over. Repeat.

"are we happy, on this painful road
do the times and the world
make your explode?"

Hope everyone is well. Kicking ass. Writing down the names of the people who laid you off and the ones who drained your bank accounts. Not for revenge. But just so you remember in 10 years when you are at your beach house and the phone rings and it is your former employer telling you he/she just fell on hard times and do you have a job for them. You can say yes, but it will probably feel better and more just to say "good luck. in fact, goodnight and good luck." Nama-fuckin'-ste.

The Only Living Boy Not Living In New York

2009-01-16T17:43:00.001-08:00

I am in the loneliest place on Earth. The American Airlines Admirals Club at JFK. I am only in the club because the hundreds of flights I've flown from Los Angeles to New York and back again have given me status. Upgrade status. But right now nothing can soothe me. Not even a Business Class seat.

An hour ago I got in a car that drove me away from my waving, chin quivering Mom. She stood on West 12th street, a cocktail of cold winds and her baby boy leaving brought the tears. The car drove off before I could see if her tears froze and before she could see my eyes well. I've gotten in that car too many times. The car to the airport to the city across the country where I live. I have been leaving New York for 8 years now. And with each bag packed and every security check-in, my heart breaks a little more.

My seven month pregnant wife and I arrived in the West Village two days before Christmas. In the last three weeks we have had twelve dinners with my parents and seven visits with my brother, sister-n-law and three nephews. We saw five plays. We went to three museums. We tried out red velvet cupcakes at atleast nine bakeries. We saw every single one of our Manhattan based friends. We saw some of them more than once. We experienced countless flavors of weather. We want to come home. We desperately want to come home.

These three thousand miles between Los Angeles and New York have become far too wide. My wife, a recently promoted network television executive was conveniently laid off when she hit her seventh month of pregnancy. As she cried from the injustice of it she began to smile when she realized she could stay in New York for a few more days. A few more days to milk the last drops of home. We don't support lay offs but we do sponsor finding the silver lining. And for us, 72 extra hours in our cobblestoned West Village surrounded by our people is kind of, just kind of worth a lay off.

I can sum it up with our family dog, Kelsee. She is 17 years old. Her legs are giving out. She has lost too much weight. She has taken to peeing in my parent's living room. She's old. And she's going. And I told my Mom that when Kelsee goes and I get a phone call in Los Angeles I want the information instantly. No baited breath. No emotion. Just the news. I will then get on a plane and fly home, stoic. Then when I see my Mom I will cry. I will sob. I will crumble. But I don't want to fall apart so far away. In fact, I no longer want news delivered from so very far away. I don't want to hear that my nephew's 3rd birthday was great or that my Dad loved his dinner at Tortilla Flats or that my brother had a barbeque on a Sunday or that someone is sick or hurt or dead. Not across states and skies. I want to come home. I desperately want to come home.

I'm on the plane now. The business class seat is comfortable. I wonder if my mom is pouring herself a glass of white wine. If my Dad, briefcase in tow, is getting on the 2/3 then walking 14th street to 8th Ave to West 12th and Washington to home. To Home. Home.

MOVE ON

2008-10-21T18:20:00.000-07:00

Stephen Sondheim from Sunday In The Park With George
*this is how I feel

Stop worrying where you're going, move on
If you can know where you're going, you've gone
Just keep moving on.

I chose, and my world was shaken--so what?
The choice may have been mistaken
but choosing was not.
You have to move on.

Look at what you want,
Not at where you are,
Not at what you'll be.
Look at all the things you've done for me:
Opened up my eyes
Taught me how to see
Notice every tree!
Understand the light!
Concentrate on now!
I want to move on . . .
I want to explore the light.
I want to know how to get through
through to something new--
Something of my own!

Move on!
Move on!

Stop worrying if your vision is new.
Let others make that decision . . .
they usually do!
You keep moving on.
Look at what you want,
Not at what you are
Not at what you'll be
Look at all the things you gave to me.

See what's in my eyes, And the color of my hair,
and the way it catches light.
And the care, and the feeling
And the light, moving on!

We've always belonged together.
We will always belong together!
Just keep moving on.

Anything you do, let it come from you--
then it will be new.
Give us more to see.

War Within

2008-10-14T10:07:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning and recognized that I have been at war with myself lately. Let me speak on this. The world is confused. Markets crumbling. People losing their life's work. We are at war(s). It makes perfect sense that because the collective, global energy, the current that connects bigger thoughts is so far from united, loving and generous right now, that that would bleed into each of us, individually. Wall Street, Main Street...my street. My spirit is in conflict. Where to turn? What to do? The adult in me battling the inner child. The social you-should-bes tackling the what-do-i-want-to-bes. Little wars raging on inside offering me sleepless nights, dark thoughts and a bucket of fear. My own lightness fighting my own darkness. My big laugh working hard to out-sound the little voices of discord.

Two houses away from me was a fire. A fire that engulfed a home. The home of a sweet 70 something man. Just him. 70 and solo...in a house that caught flames. The house is gone. So is the last 20 years of his photography. He bikes around the neighborhood now...lost, alone, scared. I stop to talk with him. I combed my drawers and closets yesterday and have put together a wardrobe for him. I hope the clothes fit. I hope he likes them. Would be cool to see him in a Clash t-shirt (can't believe I am giving it away...but on the other hand I need to...I need to give away more and more to make room for less and less...make sense?)

I had a beautiful talk with someone yesterday. Someone I have always been enamored of. And she had read some of this blog and it reflected things she has been thinking, feeling, living as well. And we got off the phone and I wanted to write 400 new posts on Happyonthepainfulroad. That was my greedy voice talking. I thought "Ahh, this blog has peaked another person's interest...let me write millions of words so my blog seems bigger...better." Then I remembered what the person on the other end of the line had been saying to me in regards to this universal conversation we all seem to be having...she said "stay authentic. that is the golden path." UMMMM...BRILLIANT. I started this blog because I needed to. I needed to share my truth and heart. I have never written a word on this blog to show off (first time in my life really...where I have done something artistic out of true pureness) so I shant start phoning it in now.

Poem sent to me from Sharon

2008-10-14T10:05:00.000-07:00

Love After Love

The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

-Derek Walcott

choices

2008-09-20T13:50:00.000-07:00

I was in boston, new york city, scarsdale and boston again this week. Perhaps its the weather, the cleansing of Fall making its way, but am in a choice conundrum. I can see living in all of the places I visited this week. I am a state of super heightened senses right now. Sensory overload really. I'm drowning in possibility. I want to swim to the shore.

For the first time in 10 years I don't know what I want. I know I want my family. I want happiness. I want to be proud of what I'm doing. But I know nothing else these days.

I spent quality time with people I love...in scarsdale, in nyc, in boston. I spend quality time with people I love in los angeles. Pockets of pieces of my life. Maybe that is this sinking, excited feeling...the tapestry of my life is scattered in many beautiful places. Where to go? What to do?

I don't know. I really don't know. I'm in one long summersault right now.

2008-09-11T18:39:00.000-07:00

basking

2008-09-09T17:41:00.000-07:00

anyone out there want to bask? bask in the glow of things you have accomplished? not ego basking. more like take-a-beat-basking. vacation. little time off. a moment to reflect and pat yourself on the back. on the bask.

i want to. i am really needing a proper time out. someone said to me last week that they are so tired of running on the wheel. they would like to get off the wheel and figure out what the hell they want, where they want to go, who they want to be.

i like that metaphor. the wheel. i feel i have been on the wheel for so long now. too afraid to jump off it fully for fear i would lose my position. what position? is there such a thing?

there are many things i want to do now or next. so many that i need a hotel room by an ocean to ponder the options and pick one. because i have not taken a BREAK i feel consumed by my the abundant option of roads to choose from.

how do we get off the wheel? how if we need to pay the bills and keep up. when do we get to checkout for a respite?

i want to bask. in the glow of it all.

Round Tabling on Hardwood Floors

2008-09-09T11:11:00.000-07:00

We sat on a hardwood floor. The air conditioning was perfect. I have a thing for great air conditioning. Reminds me of stone floors in Florida. When I was a kid. When the kids would all be on the floor laughing. Great, crisp, central air. Can't beat it. Well, open windows with an ocean breeze can beat it.

Hardwood floor. A group of friends. This group does not gather together very often. We are six people, navigating the waters and we meet up every so often for a game night. We play celebrity. Cut the paper up, write the names down and jump in.

Some of us went outside. sat under the night sky. Under the trees. Talked about SUCCESS. What it means? What we think it means? Why we seem to never think we have arrived. Or that we always need more. Or that we are not enough. Sounds whiny, but we think it right? Spend so much time thinking about the MORE we need, we seem hardpressed to embrace the WHAT we have, what we are.

Inside the talk was about "there are things you know, things you don't know and things you don't know you don't know." read that line a few times. let's get back to each other. it is a big one.

A simple night. A location. A potluck of snacks. A home made game. And conversation. A super genius cocktail that is.

It feels so good to be around love. You can get out of your head. Get into your heart. Community is essential.

Oh, we talked of the planet, the world. How we are all feeling these lightning bolts of energy. The Palin (all 6 of us wrote her name for celebrity...connectedness, i think so)

The times we are in are heartistically tricky. we really need more game nights. potlucking gatherings of conversation. we need to feel one with each other. now more than ever.

bob dylan

2008-09-09T08:09:00.000-07:00

saw bob dylan at the bowl in santa barbara. he did not play Buckets Of Rain or To Ramona (my favorite songs in the world) but he was there and he was in a white hat and an army suit of sorts. Saw his motorcycle leaning on a rail by the entrance. he zips in and wheels out. drives by night to a next stop, or home. his equipment lands on some flatbed and he lands in the wind, whirring down highways and bending up oceansides. he did not really look at the audience much. he did not extend his words much. but he was there. right there. the guy i have always wanted to see. the poet i have been idolizing my whole life.

i am glad i had never seen him before. glad i saw him now. glad i have never thought of meeting him. never have wanted to meet him. just want to observe and absorb his work, like paintings in a museum...or better yet, discs in a player.

slept in santa barbara. inspired. woke at 6 am and promptly hit the 101 heading back to l.a.

it rained. buckets of rain...on the drive back. the ocean held fog. i held hope. bob dylan. hope. change the world. you can. i can. i am.

BEEN TOO LONG

2008-08-07T10:55:00.000-07:00

My friend Desi reminded me in an email yesterday that you "shouldn't have a blog if you're not going to post." True dat, Desi, true dat.

Truth is, I did not realize how much time had passed between my last post and this one. Did not realize because I've been consumed with living my life. I remember feeling this way when I was a kid. I loved taking photographs. I had my camera with me everywhere, at all times. Then one day I tired of putting the lense in front of my moments. It distracted me from being in the moment. I was trying to capture it instead of live it. I tend to get very black and white at first. As time passes, the gray shows itself and I become it. In fact, I've become quite gray these days. Things seem to be less impactful on my heart, spirit, mind. In a good way. I am not on anti-feeling meds, although I think they are worthy for times of need. I am just sinking into my skin a bit more. Floating through it a bit more. I wake up nights and see my parents faces. I shutter at the thought of them getting older. I have pangs of scare and distance. I want to be near everyone I love all the time.

I'm happy to know that things don't have to work out. If they don't that means that you have to journey down another road. Perhaps that road will ultimately return you to your first path (as it is with roads, they tend to cross at the darndest of places.)

In the last week I saw Jessica Golden's one woman show (that I directed) A LIGHT IN THE ADDICT, shine in a small theater in Hollywood. For Jessica I was thrilled to see her art rise to a new place. To see her take a challenge and knock it out, walk through some angst and fly above it. For me, I was stoked to see that my confidence in directing is real. I want to do it, I have a vision for it, I put myself out there to go for it and it happened. Will I get better at it? God only hopes. But don't we just keep on getting better at all of it...if we do it. Talk a little less...do a little more. Being in action is the antidote for apathy. On the heels of A LIGHT IN THE ADDICT, I wrote a tiny short film. I called up my producing partner, Phil, had a meeting of the minds. Then boom..we got our great actors. Shot the short. Phil edited it until the wee hours in the morning. The next day it was posted on line. Within hours we were getting some really great responses. We made it for the need to and love of making it. The good responses are cherries. Tasty cherries that really do, all ego aside...or shit, all ego included, make the artist feel good.

Go for it. Life...all of it...go for it...Aim for the moon because if you fall at least you will be hanging amongst the stars...

Below is J.K. Rowling's commencement speech to Harvard University...speaks wizardous volumes...

FROM J.K. ROWLING

The Fringe Benefits of Failure, and the Importance of Imagination
JUNE 5, 2008
J.K. Rowling, author of the best-selling Harry Potter book series, delivers her Commencement Address, “The Fringe Benefits of Failure, and the Importance of
Text as prepared follows.
Copyright of JK Rowling, June 2008
President Faust, members of the Harvard Corporation and the Board of Overseers, members of the faculty, proud parents, and, above all, graduates.
The first thing I would like to say is ‘thank you.’ Not only has Harvard given me an extraordinary honour, but the weeks of fear and nausea I’ve experienced at the thought of giving this commencement address have made me lose weight. A win-win situation! Now all I have to do is take deep breaths, squint at the red banners and fool myself into believing I am at the world’s best-educated Harry Potter convention.
Delivering a commencement address is a great responsibility; or so I th ought until I cast my mind back to my own graduation. The commencement speaker that day was the distinguished British philosopher Baroness Mary Warnock. Reflecting on her speech has helped me enormously in writing this one, because it turns out that I can’t remember a single word she said. This liberating discovery enables me to proceed without any fear that I might inadvertently influence you to abandon promising careers in business, law or politics for the giddy delights of becoming a gay wizard.
You see? If all you remember in years to come is the ‘gay wizard’ joke, I’ve still come out ahead of Baroness Mary Warnock. Achievable goals: the first step towards personal improvement.
Actually, I have wracked my mind and heart for what I ought to say to you today. I have asked myself what I wish I had known at my own graduation, and what important lessons I have learned in the 21 years that has expired between that day and this.
I have come up with20two answers. On this wonderful day when we are gathered together to celebrate your academic success, I have decided to talk to you about the benefits of failure. And as you stand on the threshold of what is sometimes called ‘real life’, I want to extol the crucial importance of imagination.
These might seem quixotic or paradoxical choices, but please bear with me.
Looking back at the 21-year-old that I was at graduation, is a slightly uncomfortable experience for the 42-year-old that she has become. Half my lifetime ago, I was striking an uneasy balance between the ambition I had for myself, and what those closest to me expected of me.
I was convinced that the only thing I wanted to do, ever, was to write novels. However, my parents, both of whom came from impoverished backgrounds and neither of whom had been to college, took the view that my overactive imagination was an amusing personal quirk that could never pay a mortgage, or secure a pension.
They had hoped that I would take a vocational degree; I wanted to study English Literature. A compromise was reached that in retrospect satisfied nobody, and I went up to study Modern Languages. Hardly had my parents’ car rounded the corner at the end of the road than I ditched German and scuttled off down the Classics corridor.
I cannot remember telling my parents that I was studying Classics; they might well have found out for the first time on graduation day. Of all subjects on this planet, I think they would have been hard put to name one less useful than Greek mythology when it came to securing the keys to an executive bathroom.
I would like to make it clear, in parenthesis, that I do not blame my parents for their point of view. There is an expiry date on blaming your parents for steering you in the wrong direction; the moment you are old enough to take the wheel, responsibility lies with you. What is more, I cannot criticise my parents for hoping that I would=2 0never experience poverty. They had been poor themselves, and I have since been poor, and I quite agree with them that it is not an ennobling experience. Poverty entails fear, and stress, and sometimes depression; it means a thousand petty humiliations and hardships. Climbing out of poverty by your own efforts, that is indeed something on which to pride yourself, but poverty itself is romanticised only by fools.
What I feared most for myself at your age was not poverty, but failure.
At your age, in spite of a distinct lack of motivation at university, where I had spent far too long in the coffee bar writing stories, and far too little time at lectures, I had a knack for passing examinations, and that, for years, had been the measure of success in my life and that of my peers.
I am not dull enough to suppose that because you are young, gifted and well-educated, you have never known hardship or heartbreak. Talent and intelligence never yet inoculated anyone against the capric e of the Fates, and I do not for a moment suppose that everyone here has enjoyed an existence of unruffled privilege and contentment.
However, the fact that you are graduating from Harvard suggests that you are not very well-acquainted with failure. You might be driven by a fear of failure quite as much as a desire for success. Indeed, your conception of failure might not be too far from the average person’s idea of success, so high have you already flown academically.
Ultimately, we all have to decide for ourselves what constitutes failure, but the world is quite eager to give you a set of criteria if you let it. So I think it fair to say that by any conventional measure, a mere seven years after my graduation day, I had failed on an epic scale. An exceptionally short-lived marriage had imploded, and I was jobless, a lone parent, and as poor as it is possible to be in modern Britain, without being homeless. The fears my parents had had for me, and that I had had for myself, had both come to pass, and by every usual standard, I was the biggest failure I knew.
Now, I am not going to stand here and tell you that failure is fun. That period of my life was a dark one, and I had no idea that there was going to be what the press has since represented as a kind of fairy tale resolution. I had no idea how far the tunnel extended, and for a long time, any light at the end of it was a hope rather than a reality.
So why do I talk about the benefits of failure? Simply because failure meant a stripping away of the inessential. I stopped pretending to myself that I was anything other than what I was, and began to direct all my energy into finishing the only work that mattered to me. Had I really succeeded at anything else, I might never have found the determination to succeed in the one arena I believed I truly belonged. I was set free, because my greatest fear had already been realised, and I was still alive, and I still had a daughter whom I adored, and I had an old typewriter and a big idea. And so rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life.
You might never fail on the scale I did, but some failure in life is inevitable. It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all - in which case, you fail by default.
Failure gave me an inner security that I had never attained by passing examinations. Failure taught me things about myself that I could have learned no other way. I discovered that I had a strong will, and more discipline than I had suspected; I also found out that I had friends whose value was truly above rubies.
The knowledge that you have emerged wiser and stronger from setbacks means that you are, ever after, secure in your ability to survive. You will never truly know yourself, or the strength of your relationships, until both have been tested by adversity. Such knowledge is a true gift, for all that it is painfully won, and it has been worth more to me than any qualification I ever earned.
Given a time mach ine or a Time Turner, I would tell my 21-year-old self that personal happiness lies in knowing that life is not a check-list of acquisition or achievement. Your qualifications, your CV, are not your life, though you will meet many people of my age and older who confuse the two. Life is difficult, and complicated, and beyond anyone’s total control, and the humility to know that will enable you to survive its vicissitudes.
You might think that I chose my second theme, the importance of imagination, because of the part it played in rebuilding my life, but that is not wholly so. Though I will defend the value of bedtime stories to my last gasp, I have learned to value imagination in a much broader sense. Imagination is not only the uniquely human capacity to envision that which is not, and therefore the fount of all invention and innovation. In its arguably most transformative and revelatory capacity, it is the power that enables us to empathise with humans whose experiences we have never shared.
One of the greatest formative experiences of my life preceded Harry Potter, though it informed much of what I subsequently wrote in those books. This revel ation came in the form of one of my earliest day jobs. Though I was sloping off to write stories during my lunch hours, I paid the rent in my early 20s by working in the research department at Amnesty International’s headquarters in London.
There in my little office I read hastily scribbled letters smuggled out of totalitarian regimes by men and women who were risking imprisonment to inform the outside world of what was happening to them. I saw photographs of those who had disappeared without trace, sent to Amnesty by their desperate families and friends. I read the testimony of torture victims and saw pictures of their injuries. I opened handwritten, eye-witness accounts of summary trials and executions, of kidnappings and rapes.
Many of my co-workers were ex-political prisoners, people who had been displaced from their homes, or fled into exile, because they had the temerity to think independently of their government. Visitors to our office included those who had come to give information, or to try and find out what had happened to those they had been forced to leave behind.
I shall never forget the African torture victim, a young man no older than I was at the time, who had become mentally ill after all he had endured in his homeland. He trembled uncontrollably as he spoke into a video camera about the brutality inflicted upon him. He was a foot taller than I was, and seemed as fragile as a child. I was given the job of escorting him to the Underground Station afterwards, and this man whose life had been shattered by cruelty took my hand with exquisite courtesy, and wished me future happiness.
And as long as I live I shall remember walking along an empty corridor and suddenly hearing, from behind a closed door, a scream of pain and horror such as I have never heard since. The door opened, and the researcher poked out her head and told me to run and make a hot drink for the young man sitting with her. She had just given him the news that in retaliation for his own outspokenness against his country’s regime, his mother had been seized and executed.
Every day of my working week in my early 20 s I was reminded how incredibly fortunate I was, to live in a country with a democratically elected government, where legal representation and a public trial were the rights of everyone.
Every day, I saw more evidence about the evils humankind will inflict on their fellow humans, to gain or maintain power. I began to have nightmares, literal nightmares, about some of the things I saw, heard and read.
And yet I also learned more about human goodness at Amnesty International than I had ever known before.
Amnesty mobilises thousands of people who have never been tortured or imprisoned for their beliefs to act on behalf of those who have. The power of human empathy, leading to collective action, saves lives, and frees prisoners. Ordinary people, whose personal well-being and security are assured, join together in huge numbers to save people they do not know, and will never meet. My small participation in that process was one of the most humbling and inspiring experiences of my life.
Unlike any other creature on this planet, humans can learn and understand, without having experienced. They can think themselves into other people’s minds, imagine themselves into other people’s places.
Of course, this is a power, like my brand of fictional magic, that is morally neutral. One might use such an ability to manipulate, or control, just as much as to understand or sympathise.
And many prefer not to exercise their imaginations at all. They choose to remain comfortably within the bounds of their own experience, never troubling to wonder how it would feel to have been born other than they are. They can refuse to hear screams or to peer inside cages; they can close their minds and hearts to any suffering that does not touch them personally; they can refuse to know.
I might be tempted=2 0to envy people who can live that way, except that I do not think they have any fewer nightmares than I do. Choosing to live in narrow spaces can lead to a form of mental agoraphobia, and that brings its own terrors. I think the wilfully unimaginative see more monsters. They are often more afraid.
What is more, those who choose not to empathise may enable real monsters. For without ever committing an act of outright evil ourselves, we collude with it, through our own apathy.
One of the many things I learned at the end of that Classics corridor down which I ventured at the age of 18, in search of something I could not then define, was this, written by the Greek author Plutarch: What we achieve inwardly will change outer reality.
That is an astonishing statement and yet proven a thousand times every day of our lives. It expresses, in part, our inescapable connection with the outside world, the fact that we touch other people’s lives simply by existing.
But how much more are you, Harvard graduates of 2008, likely to touch other people’s lives? Your intelligence, your capacity for hard work, the education you have earned and received, give you unique status, and unique responsibilities. Even your nationality sets you apart. The great majority of you belong to the world’s only remaining superpower. The way you vote, the way you live, the way you protest, the pressure you bring to bear on your government, has an impact way beyond your borders. That is your privilege, and your burden.
If you choose to use your status and influence to raise your voice on behalf of those who have no voice; if you choose to identify not only with the powerful, but with the powerless; if you retain the ability to imagine yourself into the lives of those who do not have your advantages, then it will not only be your proud families who celebrate your existence, but thousands and millions of people whose reality you have helped transform for the better. We do not need magic to change the world, we carry all the power we need inside ourselves already: we have the power to imagine better.
I am nearly finished. I have one last hope for you, which is something that I already had at 21. The friends with whom I sat on graduation day have been my friends for life. They are my children’s godparents, the people to whom I’ve been able to turn in times of trouble, friends who have been kind enough not to sue me when I’ve used their names for Death Eaters. At our graduation we were bound by enormous affection, by our shared experience of a time that could never come again, and, of course, by the knowledge that we held certain photographic evidence that would be exceptionally valuable if any of us ran for Prime Minister.
So today, I can wish you nothing better than similar friendships. And tomorrow, I hope that even if you remember not a single word of mine, you remember those of Seneca, another of those old Romans I met when I fled down the Classics corridor, in retreat from career ladders, in search of ancient wisdom:
As is a tale, so is life: not how long it i s, but how good it is, is what matters.
I wish you all very good lives.
Thank you very much.

Britney Spears and my Mom

2008-02-07T19:48:00.000-08:00

I really do not understand what has happened here. A woman is stalked everyday by hundreds of people. Chased. And no police stop it. There are no laws against it? If my sister was being stalked and chased she could call the cops and they would come to her rescue.

We have been watching this woman unravel for a year...perhaps longer. It is so heartbreaking. No more or less than anyone going through a struggle, however i can write this and share this because we all know her.

It is horrifying. She is someone's daughter. How have her parents not kidnapped her and saved her. Mine would.

And we watch. It is on CNN. It is everywhere. What are they interested in? Rent Grey Gardens to watch crazy. Of course everyone is crumbling. Artists are collapsing. We are in a tornado filled with vultures...evil vultures pecking at human beings.

Don't you want to reach into the tv and grab the girl. Punch the photographers. Bottom feeders. Seriously, I ask very seriously, how is any of this legal? To hunt people and surround them. It's gang rape. A stampede. It is so upsetting.

I am sadly glued to the CNN special about Britney Spears right now. Sadly because I am contributing to the madness. However, my heart breaks from this. I am not curious about her demise, I am pained about her moment.

My mom sent this to me today. I think it relates.

WORRY
Is there a magic cutoff period when
offspring become accountable for their own
actions? Is there a wonderful moment when
parents can become detached spectators in
the lives of their children and shrug, "It's
their life," and feel nothing?

When I was in my twenties, I stood in a hospital

corridor waiting for doctors to put a few
stitches in my daughter's head. I asked, "When do
you stop worrying?" The nurse said,
"when they get out of the accident stage." My
Dad just smiled faintly and said nothing.
When I was in my thirties, I sat on a little
chair in a classroom and heard how one of my
children talked incessantly, disrupted the class,
and was headed for a career making
license plates. As if to read my mind, a teacher
said, "Don't worry, they all go through
this stage and then you can sit back, relax and
enjoy them." My dad just smiled
faintly and said nothing.
When I was in my forties, I spent a lifetime
waiting for the phone to ring, the cars to come
home, the front door to open. A friend said,
"They're trying to find themselves. Don't worry,
in a few years, you can stop worrying. They'll be
adults." My dad just smiled faintly
and said nothing.
By the time I was 50, I was sick & tired of being
vulnerable. I was still worrying over my
children, but there was a new wrinkle. There
was nothing I could do about it. My
Dad just smiled faintly and said nothing. I
continued to anguish over their failures, be
tormented by their frustrations and absorbed in
their disappointments.

My friends said that when my kids got married I
could stop worrying and lead my own
life. I wanted to believe that, but I was
haunted by my dad's warm smile and his
occasional, "You look pale. Are you al l right?
call me the minute you get home. Are

you depressed about something?"

Can it be that parents are sentenced to a

lifetime of worry? Is concern for one another
handed down like a torch to blaze the trail of
human frailties and the fears of the
unknown? Is concern a curse or is it a virtue
that elevates us to the highest form of life?

One of my children became quite irritable

recently, saying to me, "Where were you? I've been
calling for 3 days, and no one answered I was worried."

I smiled a warm smile.
The torch has been passed.

Wrap Yourself Around...

2008-01-26T14:50:00.000-08:00

So much is so sad. I know we are all sad about the passing of such a gifted, genuinely cool actor.

I was talking with an old friend a year ago. We were reminiscing about our history together. About the group of friends we once dined with, laughed with, took photo booth pictures with, made mix cds for, had drinks with, traveled with, stayed in hotels and houses and guest rooms with. A group that we just did everything and anything with. And the years come rolling in and life intervenes and changes things and us and it. And we mourn the change, the loss of it. We are nostalgic for it...even now. We flip through the photo albums and recall. We looked so young, so beautiful. We remember it being pure and simple and uncomplicated. It likely was not so pure, had its complexities and was undoubtedly terribly complicated but from the distance we can make it just beautiful...which is a good thing...i prefer it that way...even if it is not the full story, not the full truth...i choose, more often than not, to extract the good and hold that for the bad is too painful and in truth, not nearly as worthy of memory as the good.

Anyway, in my discussion a year ago with this old friend they said to me this:

"I wish i knew the storm that was coming. The storm that would blow us all in different directions. Had I known of it, I would have thrown my arms around us all, and held as tight as I possibly could, and never let go."

So yes, things are sad right now. And we are all upset and reflective about our own experiences, pasts, futures, goals. The questions of WHAT IS LIFE ALL ABOUT are swirling in my head. WHAT MATTERS? WHAT IS SUCCESS? If this whole journey is so very fragile (which it is) then what, what are we doing? Happy? Content? Filled? Inspired? Good things to think about over this rainy, california weekend.

go wrap your arms around someone...and hold on really, really tight.

QUOTE

2008-01-26T14:49:00.000-08:00

"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but BURN, BURN, BURN, like fabulous roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars..."
-Jack Kerouac

My Sundance Files

2008-01-25T16:18:00.000-08:00

My first Sundance experience that I want to share takes place on main street at the music cafe where I watched my friend, my brilliant friend, Quincy Coleman, sing her songs to a parka-ed, boot-ed crowd of sundancers.

She was, as always, amazing. Beautiful, pure. How is she not a superstar I wondered?! How?

She will be, that I have always believed. She should have already been, i still often say. But if you reading do not know her name, that's odd to me. She is the real deal. How does it all land out for the driven, talented folks.

My uncle, a doctor, said to me a while ago: "I went to medical school. It was hard. often wanted to leave. Was depressed sometimes, happy sometimes. But I trucked through. I became a surgeon. from that day on, graduation papers in hand, i was a surgeon. When you become "famous" or known for your art or gainfully employed you will be just that. so try, as hard as it is, to enjoy this journey. one day, you can look back on it and remember that between gigs you were bussing tables or delivering food or substitute teaching."

Check out Quincy Coleman. Google her. Buy her two cds. The first "Also Known As Mary" is a spiritual, introspective look at what we all think and feel. The second "Come Closer" is a powerful, feet on the ground journey through horns and ridiculously superb vocals.

We are artists. With dreams and drive. Trying to make it happen. We want to change the world, as cheeky as that sounds, we do. We want people to get along and things to be better. We know we have a voice and we want that voice to be heard. It is a journey. Being happy on the painful road is a task, a lesson everyday, a beautiful, fucked up journey.

Just A Thought From Denise To Jen To Me

2008-01-15T14:20:00.000-08:00

If you want to know what your life looks like, look at your thoughts. If you don't like what you see, then change the way you think about life.

Most of us are stuck in thoughts of fear, disappointment, anger, and regret. We recycle the same stinkin' thinkin' again and again and again. It feels so suffocating after a while, doesn't it?

Today, air your mind out. Open the window and let the breeze come through. Stick your head out. See those people over there? They are potential new friends. Go talk to them. See that Help Wanted sign? That’s your new career. Walk in and submit an application.

Allow new, happy, optimistic thoughts to take over for a change.

Fulfill It Up

2008-01-15T08:00:00.000-08:00

Many years ago, someone who makes their career guiding others in all aspects of life, told me that I had to fulfill my experience with someone in order for it not to show up for me again.

I had someone in my life who I started feeling very un-settled around. They seemed to be self serving and positiony (example: I introduced this person to everyone I loved most and within days this person was going out to dinner with "my people" without ever telling me...one of those)

Anyway, i felt very Talented Mr. Ripley-ed by this person. And then I was told that I had too fulfill that person or "kind of person" so as not to ever attract that into my life again.

The sentiment made sense but I did not put it into practice until very recently. I get it now.

You have to really view the whole experience...why you wanted them in your life, what attracted you to them, what in me needed that kind of a person. Then, when years later, i could answer those questions truthfully, I could fulfill it and no longer attract it or rather be far more discerning. And today, because I have "fulfilled" that kind of Ripley experience, I see it a mile away and steer clear. Basically, I have not had anyone steal my phone book, credit card, identity since. Know what I mean or if you are in a rush just say Jean (Jeannnn....do you know what I mean...go ahead, say it now, say Jean...it is a great meal replacement for 'Do you know what I mean)

Meditate before Mediate

2008-01-14T09:29:00.000-08:00

I am learning. All the time. And it is exhausting.

Sometimes, I envy the ones who just glide, unaffected, apathetic. But I can't be them. I care so much. I love deeply. I feel it all. If you are upset, I want to fix it. Ofcourse, I don't want anyone to be mad at me. I don't want to hurt your feelings or make you feel left out. I often fuck up, and do both of those things. I am, however, open to repairing. Open to apologizing. Open to making it work better the next time.

I build projects from the ground up. I have an idea, I make some phone calls, assemble a great team and together we make great tv shows, plays, movies. For someone like me, who never liked being on the soccer team (I did love the oranges at half time but that was about it) making teams for artistic endeavors is so rewarding. But, in the arts, you have passionate, sensitive people. You also have ego and lots of it. And then there is the matter of Credit and allocating it properly and honoring it properly. Who gets what and why? Who did what?

The lines get blurry, often. And when you are the one building the team, you often take on the role of Head Counselor, Principal, Executive Producer. I am getting better at that job, but it is still difficult for me. I DON'T WANT ANYONE TO BE UPSET OR HURT. I WANT EVERYONE TO BE HAPPY.

But that has come at a price. And I am at fault. Sure the old cliches "can't make everyone happy all the time"...(what are other ones?)

Because I have this instinct to quickly fix, or fixly quick if you will, I have often made the little problem bigger. I listen to everyone, and I hear everyone, and I can relate to everyone's point of view. That is all well and good, however, I tend to stop listening to myself, hearing my point of view. I don't like that. It feels sort of spineless or fair weather or which-ever-way-the-wind-blows-ish.

I know today that I need to meditate before I mediate. Meditate on the whole picture, everyone's complaints, and then finally my position. I need to get very quiet around WHAT I THINK AND BELIEVE, throw everything else out and then play Head Counselor, principal, executive producer.

Friendships get compromised, dissension ensues. And then it is all very "there will be blood." You don't want to work together, you find everyone's weakness and exploit it even if just in your own mind. You make this one wrong and that one incompetent. And it is un-fair and petulant.

So, meditate before speaking. Mediate after thinking.

INTO THE WOODS LYRICS

2008-01-11T08:38:00.000-08:00

I think these words written by Stephen Sondheim echo my sentiment.

To be happy, and forever,
You must see your wish come true.
Don't be careful, don't be clever.
When you see your wish, pursue.
It's a dangerous endeavor,
But the only thing to do-

Though it's fearful,
Though it's deep, though it's dark,
And though you may lose your path,
Though you may encounter wolves,
You mustn't stop,
You mustn't swerve,
You mustn't ponder,
You have to act!
When you know your wish,
If you want your wish,
You can have your wish,-
No, to get your wish

You go into the woods,
Where nothing's clear,
Where witches, ghosts
And wolves appear.
Into the woods
And through the fear,
You have to take the journey.

Into the woods
And down the dell,
In vain, perhaps,
But who can tell?
Into the woods to lift the spell,
Into the woods to lose the longing,
Into the woods to have the child,
To wed the Prince,
To get the money,
to save the house,
To kill the Wolf,
To find the father,
To conquer the kingdom,
To have, to wed,
To get, to save,
To kill, to keep,
To go to the festival!

Into the woods,
Into the woods,
Into the woods,
Then out of the woods
And happy ever after!

Back From Thinking

2008-01-11T08:25:00.000-08:00

I spent these last 6 weeks thinking. Not thinking whilst eating pizzas on couches in front of televisions. I was mobile. Traveling. Driving. Hiking. Gone.

I went away so that I could come back. I realize more and more that I need to go away to get myself back. I live in Los Angeles, so that is vital. The leaving. I often say that my favorite part of L.A. is the leaving it. But there is more to it than that. I must leave this neck of the woods because it is, quite truly, just that...a neck of the woods. And the WOODS are a full bodied thing. The Woods are big, massive, multi-faceted thing to be seen and educated by. So to stay in the neck and the neck alone, makes you or me rather...dumber and less interesting and less..lesser and even yes, lesser.

So for six weeks (those 6 that I did not post anything new here) I went into the woods and found my arms, my legs, my chest and my heart...found them again and came back to Los Angeles and connected all of those parts to the neck...And now, for now atleast, I feel full again, strong, able.

So I look forward to sharing, once again, and hope that you too, are replenished enough to open up to opening up...again.

My favorite singer

2007-12-10T08:22:00.000-08:00

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

2007-12-05T12:03:00.000-08:00

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

2007-12-04T18:22:00.000-08:00

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

2007-11-12T08:08:00.000-08:00

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!

2007-11-09T08:01:00.000-08:00

Bob Dylan

2007-11-08T10:09:00.000-08:00

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

2007-11-08T09:38:00.000-08:00

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

2007-11-07T11:16:00.000-08:00

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

2007-11-07T11:13:00.000-08:00

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

2007-11-05T10:56:00.000-08:00

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

2007-11-05T10:51:00.000-08:00

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

2007-11-01T16:07:00.000-07:00

NEXT WEEK THE BLOG WILL BE LOADED UP AGAIN.

LOVE, HAPPY ON THE PAINFUL ROAD

One More From Quincy Coleman

2007-10-22T15:26:00.000-07:00

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

2007-10-22T12:04:00.000-07:00

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

2007-10-22T11:50:00.000-07:00

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

2007-10-22T11:28:00.000-07:00

"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

2007-10-18T14:30:00.000-07:00

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

2007-10-17T10:02:00.000-07:00

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

2007-10-17T09:55:00.000-07:00

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

2007-10-16T14:42:00.000-07:00

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

2007-10-15T12:27:00.000-07:00

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

2007-10-12T17:28:00.000-07:00

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

2007-10-09T22:25:00.000-07:00

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

2007-10-09T06:26:00.000-07:00

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

2007-10-08T23:23:00.000-07:00

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

2007-10-08T18:08:00.000-07:00

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

2007-10-07T13:46:00.001-07:00

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

2007-10-07T11:36:00.000-07:00

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

2007-10-02T11:31:00.001-07:00

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

2007-10-01T13:27:00.000-07:00

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

2007-09-30T16:08:00.000-07:00

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

2007-09-28T10:59:00.000-07:00

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

2007-09-27T16:34:00.000-07:00

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

2007-09-27T14:40:00.000-07:00

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

2007-09-26T06:33:00.000-07:00

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

2007-09-25T08:48:00.000-07:00

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

2007-09-24T19:54:00.000-07:00

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

2007-09-24T19:18:00.000-07:00

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

2007-09-24T13:33:00.000-07:00

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.

Q&A with Skinny Bitch Author, RORY FREEDMAN

2007-09-24T11:07:00.000-07:00

I had the good fortune of meeting Rory Freedman a couple of weeks ago. She is one of the funniest people you will come across. And smart. And pretty. So yes, you will likely have a crush on her while she is making you piss your pants laughing. She is honest and authentic. She will make fun of her lacking CD collection before you can. She was an agent at Ford Models, now she is a New York Times Best Selling Author. She inspires the freedom of change, the liberation of doing and succeeding at something entirely new. And her book is clever and funny as all get out. Go to any airport, bookstore or brothel and buy Skinny Bitch.

Rory told me her favorite quote as it relates to our conversation is:

"When everything seems to be going against
you, remember that the airplane takes off against the wind, not with
it." ---Henry Ford

I asked Rory this: You transitioned from agent to author...did you have any trepidation? If so, how did you overcome it and become a best selling author? If not, why not?

Rory said: "There were certainly times I wondered, 'What have I done? I had a six-figure income and a steady career!' But when I decided to leave Ford Models, it was because I felt
certain that I could make a real difference in the world. I felt like I had to. I can now say, without a doubt, it was one of the best decisions I've ever made in my entire life. And not because Skinny Bitch is a success. But because I believed in the abundance of the universe;
honored my truest, deepest instincts; and chose to be of service instead
of self-serving."

You Is Where You Is

2007-09-24T08:24:00.000-07:00

Monday morning. Listening to "Day By Day" by Brett Dennen. Itunes his ass and download whatever you can.

Just landed from a 36 hour hour trip to Boston. It was warm there. Warmer than Los Angeles. The leaves are starting to change back East. It gets confusing. The New England air is as familiar to my senses as a Billy Joel song. And so is California. Where are you supposed to be? Wherever you are, right? Do you ever want to split yourself in two? Be in two places at once? You are celebrating the journey with people over here and "missing out" on the journey with those over there?

I have always had a problem with the notion of Missing Out. To the point, where as a kid, I would rather be in the center of the action than go to the bathroom. So if I had to go, I'd hold it in. Visual: 6 year old squeezing his legs while family laughed in the family room. And the Missing Out has followed me. Now, I realize, there may not be Missing Out. If you refer to the"Wherever you go you are" quote, you are in exactly what you should be. You are there.

So, the quick, red-eye turnaround from West to East and back again has informed my choice to start being where I am, being in what I am.

And it applies, so well I think, to work. Often, I begin writing a script and another story with new characters starts to chat in me head. Then I am writing 2 scripts. This can, often, explode into a symphony of stories and before I know it I am penning 5 things at once. I want to focus and finish the one. Tell the others to shut the fuck up for a minute. And although I am a good finisher (nothing is more satisfying than completing the first draft) I want to be better and complete the first, second and third draft, sell, make and move on.

I think this applies to any business. A dentist can't really have one hand in your mouth and simultaneously fiddle another with his other hand. Well, I suppose he could, but that would not be terribly efficient.

By The Way

2007-09-21T17:17:00.000-07:00

I would love to post anything from any of you as it relates. So if and when you leave a COMMENT, write CAN POST or something like that. Then I will. I would not want to put something on the blog if you intended it solely as a comment.

One More Pre Yom

2007-09-21T10:35:00.000-07:00

listening to Bob Dylan's "Buckets Of Rain." One of my all time favorite songs. Heard it for the first time in an apartment on Perry Street in the West Village with three life long friends. So, it is a very anthemic song for me. And yeah, I suggest a download.

I went on an early morning hike with my dog and a friend. We discussed life. The crisp Fall breeze felt right. The skies were clear. I thought I was in Montana for a moment. I watched Sean Penn on Oprah (tivo) right before my hike. He blows every part of my mind. He was discussing his new film Into The Wild, adapted from the book of the same name, adapted from the real life story of a journeyman, seeking AUTHENTICITY.

And just now, I had a conversation with another friend. She thinks there is something happening in the Universe. Something strong. Something that has a lot of us in a very pensive place. Good pensive, though. And I wonder, is the change in season? Or perhaps, and more overwhelming, the drastic change in the world. War everywhere. A fool running our country. Dan Rather (see Larry King or read it on CNN) being manipulated into quitting CBS because of seeking truth. We are living in a censored time. Is that making us censor our own selves more? Open up less?

I know, heady, heavy shit. All that said, I feel great today. This week has been wonderful. I LET GO AND LET GOD. I remembered who I am. I got proactive again. I finished mourning my old work relationship with the green faced bike rider(see first blog) and realized, too, that for a long time I was taking the poison...the poison that distorted my thoughtscape and made me feel less than, incapable, a flash in the proverbial pan.

Perfect timing for Yom Kippur. A time to get quiet and cleanse and re think, re define and move in a new direction for all of us.

The Yom

2007-09-21T08:05:00.000-07:00

Yom Kippur

(literally, "Day of Atonement") is the holiest day of the year, a day of fasting and prayers of repentance. In ancient times, it was also a day of purification of the Temple. A solemn day, it is nonetheless marked by joy in the certainty of forgiveness.

See you Monday.

Shaques Suggested Poem

2007-09-20T21:22:00.000-07:00

DESIDERATA

"GO PLACIDLY AMID THE NOISE AND THE HASTE, AND REMEMBER WHAT PEACE THERE MAY BE IN SILENCE.

As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and ignorant; they, too, have their story.Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexations to the spirit If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater or lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in you own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you for what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals and everywhere live is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass. Take kindly the council of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy."

-- Max Ehrmann, 1927

Elizabeth Wrote:

2007-09-20T21:17:00.000-07:00

I believe learning to love yourself unconditionally is one of the
greatest successes we can ever achieve. This love will bring us the
purest joy life can ever give us. Just like our dear fragile and
insanely human friend Whitney Houston and so many other wonderful
artist have sung the song "The Greatest Love of All", hearing the words
"...learning to love yourself, is the greatest love of all...", gives
me chills all over. I use to sing that song to myself in the shower
with tears streaming down my face when I first moved 3000 miles away
from everyone and everything that was familiar. I had moved to Los
Angeles to create success as an artist, an actress. And I was scared
and alone because basically that's a hard thing to do in a town that
thrives on commercialism. But what I have gained is the wisdom that I
am already a success no matter what happens outside of me. I have
learned and continue to learn how to love myself unconditionally and to
be in my voice and my power. I often like to remind myself(when I do
remember!) that I am exactly where I am supposed to be on my path in
this life, that we are all in perfect alignment with our Soul's journey
for this lifetime. I am becoming more aware that when I surrender to
God, to my Higher Self, to the Universe I feel such peace inside. The
more I feel and express my feelings in the moment, and let them wash
over me, the more freedom I have to express the truest part of me. And
as an artist my mission is to express truth from my heart so others can
see themselves reflected back to them, and go deeper into healing their
own hearts.

So when the sweet divine destiny of outer success does appear we are
all so much more grateful for the process and the journey we have taken
to arrive at that moment.

My wish for everyone is that we all fall in love with our most highest
wisest selves, as well as, our deepest darkest selves. And know that
whatever our heart desires, that very thing desires us. AND that we
can create peace on Earth by creating peace within our own hearts and
minds, and finding forgiveness for ourselves and for others. AND to
listen for the soft loving whisper of truth inside telling us that we
have been preparing are whole lives for this very moment and breathe
deeply into the fact that we are already a success for just being born.

Q&A with RUSSELL YOUNG

2007-09-20T15:49:00.000-07:00

Russell Young has been a mentor for me...whether he knows it or not. He is an extraordinary artist. See www.RussellYoung.com

He cooks like the best chef on a hillside in Tuscany. Gets fresh fish from the morning market, throws newspaper around it, adds some herbs and throws it over an open fire. Meanwhile, he goes to his many hand planted gardens and picks lettuce, strawberries, tomatoes. Then to his trees. Avocados, lemons, limes. Then to his pizza oven. Homemade dough, blended sauce. And then you feast. And you look out over his land and see the thousands of lavender bushes he planted, the roses, the perfectly green grass, the stones that become steps that lead to overviews of sky and ocean and solace. And when you are up there, you look down at the home he designed and you say...this fucker is also a great father of two, husband of one and dreamer of much.

He inspires me. And I know he will inspire you. Below are his words.

Russell's Quote..."life is what happens to you whilst your busy making other
plans"

Matt, I would have titled my blog Painfulonthehappyroad
I have no fear, I know what I think about my work and I don't care
what other people think. I analyzed my paintings from every possible
angle and level, I know what is good about them. I also know where all
their faults lie. I create my work to please myself and not others.

I have found over the years that creative honesty is the most important
artistic value that I can have. You have to start from a platform of
absolute honesty, I don't mean as in not telling lies....but know what
is really deep down inside of you, who are you, what is it that really
makes you creatively euphoric!! This has taken me decades to really
achieve, there is no simple pill to swallow. As you go through the
creative process, creating from a foundation of honesty, you find that
whatever problems or solutions are thrown at you, you have 100%
confidence in your creative abilities.

The last thing I rely upon heavily is instinct, I find that as the years
have past my instincts are nearly always right, if you have been honest
with yourself, you start to understand yourself better and find out what
decisions you make that are right for you, you get to trust your instincts.
Instinct, I believe, is very different to experience...too many people rely
on experience and lose sight of pure creativity.

Be bold and brave, don't be afraid...

In two years will you...?

2007-09-20T11:07:00.000-07:00

"A lot of people, especially this one psychoanalyst guy they have here, keeps asking me if I'm going to apply myself when I go back to school next September. It's such a stupid question, in my opinion. I mean how do you know what you're going to do till you DO it? The answer is, you don't. I THINK I am, but how do I know? I swear it's a stupid question."

--The Catcher In The Rye, J.D. SALINGER

I know what I want right now. I believe that I know what I want two years from now. But, I also know that ideas change and life turns and in it we bend. Does God laugh while we are making plans? Maybe. Perhaps the laugh is loving and not, as I always saw it, condescending.

It could be that HE/SHE/IT is laughing, almost nervously, because IT/SHE/HE knows that you can plan all you want and you should plan because if you don't plan on the next two years then what is there really needling you to wake up in the morning. Meaning, if there is no planned path leading toward a goal then what is there? So yes, God may be chuckling because, indeed, we can plan all we want but, in truth, plans change, moods and needs shift. Can I be certain that I will want the same things in two years that I want in this moment?

Q&A with my FATHER, Part 2

2007-09-20T08:13:00.000-07:00

Matt, I want to add something. I should have also pointed out that hard work is part of the picture. Although hard work alone may not get you across the goal line , my experience is that those who work hard always seem to be in the right place when a break or good fortune comes there way. Here's a story, my friend Joe Masci, owns a chemical distribution business that he started years ago after coming to America with just a third grade education. Joe opened his business in Newark on the same street as a more seasoned competitor. The competitor stopped by one day and and said "Joe, Inotice your lights go on at 7;30 am, well I want you to know I will be opening at 7, because nobody outworks me'. Joe paused for a moment and said"don't bother I will be open 24hrs a day" My friend Joe was determined to suceed by hard work and he did. Also I wanted to add this on the subject og getting over a disappointment if you lose a deal and you let it effect you and you in effect stop rowing don't be surprised if the rest of your team stops rowing as well. Just another point to remember to move on.

Q&A with my FATHER

2007-09-19T19:00:00.000-07:00

Matt, You asked me 2 questions, the first is what is my favorite quote, it comes from Winston Churchill who said " success is never final and failure is never fatal, what counts is the courage to keep going".

I have always thought it embodies the answer to your second question which is how do you keep going after your poured your heart and soul into a project that ends up not going well for you.

Actually for me that is an easy question to answer but more complicated to implement. You don't have to be the boss or in charge to have people count on you. Many people count on me, hundreds of employees, the rest of my corporation not directly related to the company I have the good fortune to run, vendors to our business and most importantly my family. But as I said you don't have to be the the boss, everyone has someone who counts on them, could be employees, or your family or just yourself. So you can't allow a disappointment or as Churchill says a "failure", to let you tank, to take you down. Never focus on the negative, I re-examine the deal I did not get to see how I can be better on the next one and trust me there will be a next one. I channel the passion to "win" to the next one because I know I can't let down those who count on me including myself. I don't dwell I move on. Easy to say harder to do because human nature might say "whoa is me". Can't have that the world has to many opportunities So there you go what does the old song say "accentuate the positive"

Leaves Return To The Trees In Autumn

2007-09-19T16:14:00.000-07:00

Why did we all like that American Idol anthem "Have You Had A Bad Day?" Even if you hated it, you liked it. The black and blue mark theory...hurts when you poke it but don't stop poking it.

We liked it because it was wonderfully cliche. We have horrible days, weeks...And the world wants us to get through it fast so we can return to who we are. But in returning to who we are we need first go through the mourning of where we have been and what WE WERE.

The next time you are in the hole, the next time your loved one is in it, the next time I am in it...let us remember that come winter (east coast mostly) the leaves die and they fall. Do you get mad at the trees? No. Because you know full well that come Autumn, the leaves will return to the trees and they will be more vibrant than you recalled them ever being. Kind of like us.

QUOTES

2007-09-19T13:34:00.000-07:00

Sophia sent this in a response. Even though this blog was just born, I am making a NEW addition to it. Any quotes that speak to our conversation will be posted as blog. Here is the first. Thanks, Soph.

SEPTEMBER 19
"It's not just major challenges that require courage. Even the minor skirmishes with life demand some deep breaths, perhaps hushed prayers, and lots of hope. We'd glide more easily through every day if we'd accept that struggle is part of the process of life; that it offers more opportunities for us to realize our individual potential than any other dimension of life.
Struggles strengthen us, enrich our character, temper our emotions. They enhance our being in untold ways, and yet we plead to be spared them. How ironic that we each long for greater success, at least some recognition for our accomplishments, but recoil from the very experiences that guarantee these personal satisfactions.
MY STRUGGLES TODAY ARE MY GIFTS IN DISGUISE. I WILL GROW ACCORDINGLY."

The Art Of Sharing Your Process

2007-09-19T13:13:00.000-07:00

How do you share your train of thought, your creative process, your new ideas with others?

I am just learning how to share in a way that doesn't send me directly into a K-hole.

I wrote a play three years ago. I have been workshopping it ever since. I was not sure what I wanted this play to be: a musical, an an actual play, a film or a TV show. I decided that I would make it a TV show. So, along with a talented producer friend of mine, I set out to make a presentation. No money. Just my living room, some lights, a backdrop, a camera and some very talented actors. And we have been editing the piece. In the midst of editing, knowing full well there was much more to cut and tighten, I got excited and wanted to share the piece. And I did. And I prefaced the share with the apology "It is not done yet. Still working it out..." And I also opened up the conversation, asking those who viewed it what they thought. Some liked it, which of course strokes the EGO (this is not a Kaballah blog, don't worry, and if you are a Kabbalist then frame this for you) and some had questions, concerns, specific things they would love to see taken out completely. I set myself up. I asked. They spoke. And then my heart fell, my ears burned and the chest closed in.

I quickly called a singer/songwriter that I admire. I offered up my account of what had just happened. She said that she too, has gotten excited by the beginnings of a new song, played it for people only to be faced with blank stares and looks that intimated "is that it?" To which she would defend herself and her process...only to learn that perhaps she should not share something that is not COMPLETE.

I hear that. But aren't we INCOMPLETE. I mean, as people...aren't we totally UNFINISHED. Aren't our abilities, our wants, our viewpoints, our spirits ever evolving? If they are, then we are certainly ever-growing things. So if it is okay for US to be works in progress, works that should be gently handled so as to grow not from roots of fear but roots of love, then why can't our First Drafts, our Initial Ideas be viewed similarly? I don't want to be scared of sharing something that is just beginning for it is the greater community spirit that oxygenates the something. But I am scared.

It is better to Understand than to be Understood

2007-09-19T11:29:00.000-07:00

I am listening to Beck's song "Jackass." I suggest an immediate download. The song comes from his ODELAY album.

Jack-Ass Lyrics

I been drifting along
In the same stale shoes
Loose ends tying a noose
In the back of my mind
If you thought that you were making your way
To where the puzzles and pagans lay
I'll put it together:
It's a strange invitation
When I wake up
Someone will sweep up my lazy bones
And we will rise in the cool of the evening
I remember the way that you smiled
When the gravity shackles were wild
And something is vacant
When I think it's all beginning

I been drifting along
In the same stale shoes
Loose ends tying the noose
In the back of my mind
If you thought that you were making your way
To where the puzzles and pagans lay
I'll put it together:
It's a strange invitation

I have already received some incredible e-mails from you guys. And I just figured out how to open the blog for posts...so post away.

I will be posting my first Q&A later today. I turned to my Father to get things started. He is the C.E.O. of AIG ENVIRONMENTAL. He wakes up at 5:30 a.m. and takes the train from the West Village to Wall Street every morning unless, of course, he is flying all around the world for conferences, meetings or to deliver speeches about cleaning up the environmental mess of the world. He sits on many boards including The Riverkeeper Foundation, with Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. And in between, he romances my Mother. After 36 years of marriage, he brings her flowers every Friday. He guides my Brother, daily, through his budding business career. And he has talked me off of ledges for as long as I can remember. He is as loving and open with his employees as he is with his family. He has been up and down a thousand times, often up and down in the same, high stakes, corporate American business hour. And all the while, save the occasional migraine (Imitrix is his best friend), he remains funny, alive and very much awake.

So he will share a sliver of his journey with us later this afternoon.

Until then, I am hearing this quote over and over in my head. "It is better to UNDERSTAND than to be UNDERSTOOD." I am choosing to hear this quote as "I don't need to try so damn hard to make everyone out there understand ME and my roller coaster ride, my dreams come true, my dreams squashed...what is important, what lightens the load, empties the mind a bit is to simply take a beat and UNDERSTAND them (whoever your THEM is). Once we can UNDERSTAND others we can clearly see their ability (or lack thereof) to serve our needs."

...On The Painful Road To Success

2007-09-19T08:15:00.000-07:00

I am starting this blog as a universal dialogue. A conversation between all of us about being young and taking a journey toward success. Success in career, relationships, friendships and in self-realization.

I have just come up for air...again. Last week I was someone I'd never met before. Where I am usually hopeful and funny, kind and compassionate, last week I was cruel and quiet, shut down and, well, depressed. I did not have the tools to crawl out of the hole that dug itself when I left my literary agent, realized that getting a new agent was no walk in the park, started having anxiety attacks when I acknowledged that the five new TV shows I'd spent the better part of a year writing may simply be three-hole-punched pieces of paper on my coffee table...for this pilot season anyway.

I am a writer. In Los Angeles. I write TV shows and movies, plays and poems. And now, this blog. It feels, lately, that my hands are tied in pursuing the very thing I have made a living doing: writing. I do not know if your career can be or feel stifling. If you sometimes feel not allowed to or unable to or exhausted by the concept of finding NEW ways to...do the thing you DO.

While this tornado of beat down has been swirling around me, it has also stirred my new marriage, some of my friendships and my spirit. I know this sounds super drab, maudlin (insert your own word) but it really isn't. It is actually quite exciting.

When I found myself directly in the eye of the tornado, where I actually saw my former agent, green faced, riding a bicycle...I thought of this blog. I need guidance. I need to hear stories of people with passions and dreams who decided to pursue those passions and dreams. I need to hear what it is like to balance becoming an adult, being in a relationship, sifting through friendships to find the best of the best and making your mark in the world the way you want to make your mark in the world.

So, my pledge is to crack myself wide open. I will share the great UPs (selling TV shows, making TV shows, selling movies...um, having them shelved) and the great DOWNs (being told "your script is too funny" or "it is very hard to sell a show with female leads" or "you have to many ideas"). I will also go into the world and talk to actors, CEOs, painters, sneaker makers, head chefs, authors, songwriters, singers, directors, theater producers...and the list goes on. I will bring you their exact words as they relate to OUR conversation about how to be Happy On The Painful Road To Success.

And when you have thoughts, join in.

Okay, now I am going to make some tea, listen to the Across The Universe soundtrack and think about how today can be better than yesterday.