While burying my head in the book, I lifted it and found my self!

It has been far too long since I last posted.  The last was a week ago, and I was sharing how I was feeling first day jitters.  Well, the first week is almost done, and it has been an enlightening experience.  Coming into this new project, I wondered if it really were like riding a bike.  Would I straddle the not too comfortable seat, put one foot on the peddle, push...."OH! That's the break!" or push and go "WEEEEEEEE!" Believe what they tell you, it is the latter, not the former.  I really found an amazing freedom in the text this time, so it was "WEEEEEEE, WEEEEEEE, WEEEEEEEE" all the way home. Because I am in the best of hands this is great, but most importantly, I found the courage to say Mr. Shakespeare's words in the way that I hear them.  Looking around the table, every actor is individually unique and uniquely individual.  It was clear that we were all assembled to bring our special brand of classical interpretation to this show.  It challenged me to fire the mental editor who has often whispered in my ear, "That earthiness that you walk through the world with, is not welcomed here. Drop it for what you know is a better way." She/it was given the boot, and I found a relationship with the language that I had never had before.  Again, like in most relationships, if you are coming with your authentic self, it cannot work....at least not for the long haul.

First Day Jitters

Oh good friends, as we approach Labor Day, many of us gear our young people up to start a new school year.  School bags are picked out, clothes are neatly organized and excitement, sprinkled with some dread, runs rampant.  The energy is palpable.  The desire to know more and be moved up a rung on the ladder of education is being fanned again.  Going back also means being reminded of all of the things that may have been forgotten in the sun, poolside. I say, be gentle with oneself.  It will all come back to you.

I say this to myself as well, as I begin a new project.  It has been a while since I have been at this particular school, in this building, with these "students."  My excitement is high, but I cannot ignore the gnawing dread that I have of being back in "school."  First day jitters, I guess. Though I know I won't be the only new kid feeling this way and there will be some familiar faces, but what will the upper class-men think? Better yet, how will I perform?  Will I meet my own expectations?  I say, be gentle with oneself. It will all come back to you.

I was "Swagger Jacked" Today

If you are anything like me, you don't know what "swagger jacking" is.  Well, it is when you "hate" on someone, but I will be using this term to describe having my twitter account hacked today! They jacked my swagger today and it made me think about how easy it is for someone's identity to be stolen.  I then thought about how often I have given my identity away in various ways in this business.  Every time I read for a role that I know is so far from any truth that I know or every time I tell myself, "Well, it's just for this project," I am allowing my identity to be jacked.  As a matter of fact, that's not even a real "jacking." I would assume the very nature of a "jacking" is the element of surprise.  There is very little surprise to what I describe for those of us who have been traveling this road.  I reclaim my swagger today. I am owning my name, my identity and holding on to them with both hands.

Missed Y'all Yesterday

I missed y'all yesterday. Mother was in a funk, and I will not get into it because the aroma is still lingering. I am walking away from this experience believing that in this business and at this time, it is imperative that I remain faithful.  My meditation this morning reminded me that if The Creator can create light at the speed of light, then in our co-creation partnership, it can create at that speed with me.  Staying in alignment despite what appears to be obstacles is the lesson yesterday, today and tomorrow!

Don't Insult Me or My Intelligence

Ok, I am an avid HBO follower! I have been down with HBO from way back and have loved Alan Ball since American Beauty.  Six Feet Under was an exercise in series perfection.  I have not experienced a series finale so final and satisfying as the last episode of that series.  All I could say was, "Bravo Mr. Ball. Bravo!"Now, fast-forward to True Blood! The previous seasons of True Blood, I have enjoyed the journey through the dark side of the Louisiana swamps with our sexy vampires and shape-shifting romantics.  I have allowed myself to suspend my disbelief, even when Sookie was getting on my last nerve crying and screaming every other scene and when Tara was clearly the only victim of this community.  The latter is where I must begin my discourse on "Insult Upon Injury!" This season, I have been struggling with the portrayal of Tara.  I forgave the writer's for masking real black female strength with anger.  I understand that is how they perceive that strength, as hostile and sometimes angry.  What I am not willing to forgive is this constant presentation of her as sexual victim and sexual provocateur.  How am I to connect with this character who in the last episode broke down when telling Sookie how Franklin raped her (even though her first encounter with Franklin was consensual), then 10 minutes later was ready to lay down with the man who killed her true love. Trust, I get that any time a woman says, "No," it means NO, but you must see the glaring contradiction. I am I supposed to have sympathy for this character who has been sexually assaulted when the only way she seems to be able to solve her problems is through sleeping with every man who will give her two minutes of attention.  Oh writers of True Blood, you have insulted me! They then insulted my intelligence this night by adding a 3 minute epilogue to the show to explain the "Sookie/Fairy" plot line.  As my dear friend said, "If you have to explain it, it's not a good idea!" You mean to tell me, the 9-12 episodes they have been allotted is not enough to make sense of this plot line? Mr. Ball and crew, I am worried about this.  You get me hooked on your "V," then you water it down! That's just not right.  It's not right I tell you!

Representation/ Are we ever satisfied?

May I ask, "Are we ever satisfied with our representation?"  I am wondering this as I go into my third relationship.  I wonder if I want too much, or if I haven't been clear about my needs.  This is starting to sound like other relationships I have been in; however, I do ask myself these questions.  I see women who look me and whom I think are just as talented as I in pieces that I didn't even know existed.  Don't get this twisted, I send love to every woman who gets up in the morning and chooses to do the work that I have chosen to do.  It ain't easy.  They (the business) are always telling us where to improve or what we should change now, so I am not sending shade to anyone.  I know what is for me is for me (cliché, but true), but I can't help wondering, "WHY DIDN'T I KNOW ABOUT IT!" This is when I start doing my checklist.  Y'all know what that is.  In romantic relationships that's when you start running down all the negative stuff your significant other has done and where they have met the mark...but just barely! You know you still love 'em, want to be with 'em, but why couldn't they just have picked the perfect restaurant for the date or called exactly on time when they said they would. I have these types of moments when I am ruminating.  Don't tell me I am the only one out there.

Art That Reaches

Y'all, I know I said this was about theatre, and believe me, it is, but today, my sister called me from Johannesburg, South Africa.  She was at a Lala Hathaway concert.  Yes, the Princess of Soul herself.  There is no voice as buttery, rich and smooth as hers.  She is her father's child! While my sister was stretching her Blackberry above her 5'3" frame and in front of her so I could share in this musical experience with her, all I could think was, "This is what real art makes us do!" Real art will make you stretch through the crowd to share it with those who are far away. Real art can give you goose bumps alll the way from South Africa to New Jersey. Real art made me shout down the aisles in the Shop Rite today.  I didn't care!

There was also a beautiful mental picture I had of this artist, sister, black woman, dread-locked, going to South Africa and singing for a sea of people who look like her. She said it was her first time there. What it must have felt like to perform on that stage, a distant cousin to the continent, and have THAT family embrace you.  Art heals our generational wounds, comforts our collective cry and reminds us that from our past, we have the capacity to create some of the sweetest melodies, stories, movements and pictures! Art from the displaced that reaches all the way back home! YES! I'm loving what I do today! Tomorrow Sistah says Rahsaan Paterson and Lala will be in concert.  Ooo, I am getting international concerts for free!