Archive for July, 2008
The Rhythm Of The Saints (originally released 10.16.90 and re-released 7.27.04) is easily one of Paul Simon’s seminal master works. I’ve been listening to it for years, and intend to keep doing so. It seems each time I approach it, I’m offered a new gift, a new kernel of truth to nibble on and ponder.
Today’s epiphany stemmed from a newfound understanding of the title track’s lyrics. The words are in English, plain as day, but today was the first time I realized how prudent Rhymin’ Simon’s advice is:
Reach in the darkness
A reach in the dark
Reach in the darkness
A reach in the dark
To overcome an obstacle or an enemy
To glide away from the razor or a knife
To overcome an obstacle or an enemy
To dominate the impossible in your life
As scared as I am right now, there is only one course of action, to keep reaching out… even if I feel like I’m groping in the dark, I’m still moving forward, and if I keep moving, I’ll eventually move past it…
Listen to him sing, you’ll hear the urgency, and you’ll hear the album’s movement — it’s like a train chugging along, picking up momentum as it moves through the mountains and the desert.
–Sue
July 29th, 2008
I’ve been avoiding it all week… telling everyone that I’m “stuck”… but, I knew what needed to happen, I was just avoiding the inevitable.
Yesterday, I chose to stop running from the reality that one of my characters is leaving. The thing is, I always planned on that, but I didn’t think it’d happen this early… and now I’m forced to imagine what might happen without her.
This may sound crazy, but it’s usually at this point when I end the story… In “Another Place In Time,” they decide to give each other a chance… Will they get married, who knows? I leave that for another story… In “A Distant Reflection,” mom and daughter leave their old apartment and sad memories behind. Do they make it, who knows, but they are giving it a shot… In “Chrysalis,” he dies, and she’s left to go it alone. Does she make the splash in the art world she’s been hoping for? Does she stay in that house? Don’t have a clue…
This is wonderful, but it’s crazy… It means I’m growing as an artist, but it means I don’t have the foggiest notion of how to get to the next level… Flying by the seat of my pants, I’m going on a wing and a prayer.
–Sue
July 24th, 2008
Yesterday, my lovely sister remarked that she’s heard the same story six times, and each time she hears it, the story, and even the inflections the teller uses, are EXACTLY the same. To say the man is talented is an understatement. My hats off to him…
As for me, there are many stories I tell over and over again — particularly the story of why I became a playwright. (The question is oftentimes worded differently, but it’s essentially the same question… Ask me in person and I’ll tell you.) I launched into the story once more yesterday, the words tumbling out of my mouth…
My sister has heard me tell the story a few times, and she took the opportunity to interject with a crucial detail I left out… In that moment of -dare I say, interruption- I realized I was telling it all wrong. Needless to say, I finished the story, but I started thinking about why I was so focused on telling the sad/negative part and neglecting to tell that positive part.
To make matters worse, I start the story with the sad tidbit… So I set that sad tone from the outset.
I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s done this, or had a realization like I had, but it stopped me in my tracks — the supposed “master storyteller” was ruining her own story… So, I’m going to leave out that tidbit from now on… It doesn’t do anything for the story — even if it did happen, even if it was true, it isn’t true for who I am right now.
I know the power of words, and the power of putting messages out into the universe. I will use that power more carefully from now on.
And so, my wonderful sister, thank you. Thank you for the fortuitous interruption, thank you for adding your two cents, and thank you for smiling through a story you’ve heard many times before (and will almost certainly hear many times in the future).
–Sue
July 17th, 2008
We saw Tracy Letts’ August:Osage County on Sunday. It was easy to see why it won 5 Tony Awards and the Pulitzer.
There have been volumes said and written about the play and the Broadway production… I’d like to comment on the audience reaction at our performance, namely the comments of a patron we walked out of the theatre with.
Somewhat sarcastically she said, “That was uplifting!” She went on to say, “I feel like I just stepped into someone else’s life, and now I want to leave.”
And I think that’s the best prize he could have gotten… She worked, like the rest of the audience did, to understand that world, those people… Letts didn’t make it easy… but we stayed there with him, though the tirades and the meltdowns — occasionally punctuated by wit. And I have to admit, as much as I got out of it, I was just as drained as she was… but I’m sure no where near how drained those actors were.
If it’s worth it, they’re willing to work for it. I love Broadway audiences!
–Sue
July 14th, 2008
I was doing yoga this afternoon, and I was inspired for a new scene in my musical.
I didn’t rush the routine, I kept going through it. The scene continued unfolding before me. When I was done, I promptly ran to my journal and wrote.
I was so grateful for finding that stillness in that moment, for being able to clear my mind so that I could create.
Yes, I have a bunch of chores to do, and matters that should be attended to, but focusing on those first wasn’t going to allow me to entertain the muse today. (Though recently I found laundry had a calming effect.)
At times, it’s so easy to let the small things distract us from the bigger picture… I am the queen of errands and appreciating the small moments… But as I get deeper into this project, I am refocusing the lens to take it all in, and write it all down.
I hope that all my readers have the opportunity — scratch that — MAKE the opportunity to carve out a few moments to find that stillness and create something extraordinary.
–Sue
July 11th, 2008
I had a nice long chat with one of my girlfriends and she told me about a conversation she’d had with her mother last week.
I was so moved, and so inspired, that I promptly wrote a song for my new musical literally minutes after we hung up.
I called her later to thank her, and share that song, plus another I’d written today. My friend was crying — telling me how moved she was.
So today was a day of movement… moving forward with the musical, being moved by my friend’s story, and moving my friend with my songs…
None of that movement would be possible if we both didn’t share of ourselves with one another… and now we’ve both walked away feeling fulfilled.
Thank you again, my dear friend!
–Sue
July 9th, 2008
This morning, after a dream that I was back in school, I realized how much support I had from the multitude of wonderful teachers, professors, and mentors I had cheering me on all along the way. (I learned a lot of hard lessons too…)
I thanked most of them while I was their student, and I feel I’ve repaid my debt as a teacher to a population of students most had long given up on… But I wanted to take this opportunity to thank them again…
The guidance, support, and knowledge they imparted to me helped make me who I am, as a person, and playwright.
I also realize that I’m ready for that setting again… a place where I can be challenged to learn and grow — pushing myself and being pushed beyond my current limits to be an even better person and writer.
But this time, it would be my peers whom I would learn from, and who would learn from me.
–Sue
July 7th, 2008
Flim-flam.
Whim, wham…
Ha-cha-cha!
The quota has been filled.
–Sue
July 2nd, 2008
We caught a matinee of Caryl Churchill’s Top Girls this past Saturday at the Biltmore Theatre. (I had seen her play Blue Heart in London in 1997.) It was really well done, and even though much of the play was sad, there were many light moments and reaffirmations of life.
One of those moments happened on line at the ladies’ room during the second intermission. Sitting only a row behind me was a young woman I had gone to high school with, we sang in chorus class together.
We exchanged the obligatory “How have you been?” and “What are you up to?” When I told her I’m a playwright, she said, “Oh, then this must be boring for you…”
I said, “No, it’s fun!”
She said, “Yeah, but this is what you do… You’ve already seen this all before.”
And I said, “No, it’s still fun!”
I walked away laughing to myself… I’m lucky to be doing what I love doing… and even if I’ve been doing it for a while, and sometimes it’s hard, it’s still wonderful… How could I keep at it so long if I didn’t love it?
But then I realized, not everyone is so fortunate to do what they love. Not everyone is so fortunate to know what they want to devote their lives to… and actually DO it.
To borrow a Paul Simon lyric, I’m “still crazy after all these years” about theatre, and I hope that’s how I’ll always feel.
–Sue
July 1st, 2008
