What am I fighting for? How am I going to get it & win?

One thing that I have been particularly mindful of with the latest show, "A Tomb With the View" is the idea of "tactics".   The principle of this is that every human has basic needs they are fighting for and these tactics are the tools used to obtain that need.  There are also underlying reasons why these need to be met, be it physical, emotional, or mental.  It is my job as an actress to become the character in so much that I understand completely her reason for that need and, as all of my acting coaches plus all the multitude of books for actors say, to "raise the stakes' in obtaining that goal in a believable and realistic fashion based on the given circumstances.

In fact, the main emphasis of an actor or an actress should be to completely invest oneself in the story-line of the play or film and the relationships their character has within the play/film so that it appears to mirror that of real-life, no matter how fantastical it may be.  Furthermore, tactics and needs of the character should also be individualized based on a real relationship unique with the other characters.

In a sense, the questions must be more than just "Who am I?" but "What do I need in this scene?" and "What are the ways i am going to obtain it?"

This will then make not only the character more believable and more relate-able but so to will make the story of the play or film more powerful to the audience and the other cast-members.

Controller: Or How My Life Went Out of Control!

Hi, my name is Liza and I am a woman in my mid-twenties, a young, very healthy woman in my twenties with some very very basic needs that are currently not being met because...

I feel responsible for the demise of my parents' crumbling marriage, that it is partly my fault for not holding up my end of the bargain as I promised I would.  I feel guilty, as the psychologists would say, for having my own need to develop as an individual apart from my parents.

Thus, I feel the need to make it up to them by giving my dad a place to stay at my house and doing what I can to stop the enmity between them; to save their marriage and to hopefully reestablish my struggling and very hungry libido.

Things come to a head (LOL! She said "head), when I can't even get my own father to come to his mother-in-law's funeral which causes even more division between my folks.  After weeks of trying, I am at my wit's end, heightened even more so by the long absence of personal time with my boyfriend, Jeff (and by personal time, I mean...).

I am feeling very frustrated and in need of a good roll in the...consequently unable to think clearly to plan a good attack.

Enter Jeff, my wonderfully faithful boyfriend with a brilliant plan that just might work!  To find out what, come and see this Saturday & Sunday, October 19 & 20, at Paschal Winery.  See link below for more information!

https://www.facebook.com/events/578985095472463/?ref=2&ref_dashboard_filter=calendar

Introducing the Tombs!

My name is Dora Lucrezia Tomb.  I am of the Tomb family of England.  We descend from the Italian 'Tombras'.  I am the second eldest, although my younger sister, Emily, tries to rule everyone, of which I detest.

I am the closest to my brother, Lucien because I know that he is the easiest for me to control.  I just have to pout and whine and he comes to my rescue!  However, my favorite brother is Marcus because in his supposed craziness he is bold enough to tell people what he really thinks of them (Emily) and put them in their place.  Oliver is the littlest brother that I worry the most about, he lost it after our dear ma-ma passed (a cloak of suspicion hangs over my shoulders because of this).  I do not know what to do with him.  I have worked with Lucien on numerous concoctions and experiments, which we have tried on many others but to no success.  He appears to slip further into madness.

Emily is the sister I am closest to in age and the one whose presence I most loathe.  However, since she is of my own family, I do seek to remember her positive attributes buried by her hardness.  I try to remember the times when we played such childhood games as ring around the rosy, bloody mary, and the tomb favorite, how many servants can you try and poison (without any suggestion of suspicion).  Monica, though, is the dear little sister and of whom I see what I have always wanted to be.  Because of this, I applaud all her efforts at self-individualization and celebrate her victories.  She is the one sibling, besides Marcus, that I would defend to my grave.

Hamilton Penworthy and Nurse Franklin are the outsiders of the family that I have been "forced" to maintain in my own home.  Mandated by my father as necessary for the family survival, I am restrained from offering them any "home-made wine".  I resent grately their existence in my life, especially that of Nurse Franklin, who in my opinion monopolizes the attention of Marcus, whose focus would otherwise be on me, as he was my favorite childhood play-mate (We played all sorts of Shakespeare games!).

Agatha Hammond is the Mother Superior of the family and is really the one with the authority and family rule.  I do not truly know how close she was to my father, however, I suspect it went beyond the acceptable servant/master relationship.

Upon the arrival of Ermytrude Ash and her partner, Perrigine Potter, I am not only weary of how much influence they will have over my downfall (and that of the family) but uncomfortable with their impending addition to my family.  After the loss of Miss Ash, I seek to find ways to get closer to Mr. Potter in order to protect my own skin and to provide momentary satisfaction of pleasure.  I deeply resent anyone who stands in my way of this purpose, save for Monica.

My greatest ambition in life is to keep the prestige and fame of the family name, which in a sense is more about my pride and my fame.  When the family power and control begins to crumble, then so does my serene repose and quiet (yet calculating) control.

See me and my entire clan in A Tomb With A View  which opens Friday, October 25th at Barnstormers' Theatre in Grants Pass, OR.

See related link below:

https://www.facebook.com/events/649334078433144/?ref_dashboard_filter=calendar

Routine Procedure

Character: Lucy Kingsley

I am an overworked young mother who is the only "bread-winner" in my family.  I have a young son, Cory, who is four years old, with serious health problems.  Since my husband, Jerry, lost his job, we no longer have the health benefits or the finances to cover Cory's medical costs.  I would do whatever it takes to save my son's life.  Hell has no fury---

I have an eternally cheery disposition and want to appear as if I have a heart of gold.  My personal motto is:  "Be the better person" AND "Kill him with kindness."

See me in action this Saturday, October 19th & Sunday, October 20th at Paschal Winery in
Talent, Oregon.  Be there @ 7:00 pm, or watch out!

Information provided below:

https://www.facebook.com/events/578985095472463/?ref_dashboard_filter=calendar

The Reason for Being An Actress

The other day on Facebook a dear friend and fellow collaborator in the crazy art of acting and all things community theatre posted a comment about how a past character had once again surfaced and spoken something meaningful to his heart and while I can't completely understand his relationship, I can relate because I, too,  have a character that I internalized, that not only became real, but became so because she found herself in me and I  in her, where suddenly two 'became one' as it were, married to the art of getting the message across, the message of our mutual pain, weaknesses, sorrows, and also of our hopes and joys--

Yes, she was and is me as much as I am myself and playing her helped me to become more of myself.  I found more healing in her than ever on the couch of a therapist's office; more freedom and ability to release and truly let go---

And today, in certain moments, say walking down a city-street at night (however cliche that  may seem), I can sense her, understand her feelings of "walking the street", a sense of power mingled with shame.  Yet I can know honestly why a thing like that is done, to find that momentary healing from the loneliness, to feel wanted, appreciated for something; to catch a glimpse of true love---

And yet still there is that cold, quiet ever present emptiness silenced only by the aching need of a hungry belly and fragile heart, never satisfied, and in that, I can sense her gratitude for understanding.

Some time has passed since the show ended so the ache of missing her is not as sharp, but alas it is there and for that I am grateful, for that strange form of relationship--

That, I suppose, is the pay-off for us unpaid community theatre actors/actresses (hoping someday for that paycheck), for that intense character-work and self-discovery that is the process of our art.

My friend, Peter, played the man, John Merrick, and that is his character.  My friend/theatre mama, Becky, has an 19th century distinguised actress, and me, well, I'm a hooker!

A Reason For Everything..

Chuck Smith, Sr. died this last week and I visited an older man named Bob Davy who lives at Mountain Meadows (a local retirement community) who converted some old VHS films of mine to DVD.

 Throughout this weekend, I was thinking of my Grandpa that just passed (Don Anderson) about a year ago and missing the times I would go to visit him and Mimi and he would make us all Manhattans using his finger to stir the drinks.  Then, we'd all sit around and reminisce and bask in the warmth of familial love, with memories of Michigan summer barbecues with the cousins; playing boci ball on rolling green lawns and catching fireflies at night.  And it struck me yet again that in life nothing is permanent but relationships, memories, and the memories of relationships.  And, the only really way to make life worth living is to cherish the times, so fleeting, so swiftly  passing--

This brings me to the realization about why in the world I had the time I had at Refuge Christian Fellowship and that the reason I met the lovely Char and Grace Brodersen was for 'such a time as this'.  The main reason I grew disillusioned with the whole Calvary Chapel system was because of the celebrity/people worship the congregants have for the Pastors, namely Chuck and his many associates.

Yes in his passing, I see this as a source of healing for me, as I sang in church this morning, "I am willing to let it go"---in that with the one year anniversary of my own grandfather's death, I can see Pastor Chuck's death not as that of a celebrity death but as the passing of the grandfather of a dear friend.

What I realized that the passing of a Grandparent, even if we can know we will see them again, is still a loss, not just of a relationship but in a sense a loss of childhood.  No longer can we visit the grandparents' and experience all that that entails for us individually.

At the end of the day (to quote Grace),  I was blessed to spend time with Char & Grace on our respective journeys on this swiftly turning planet and learn from and grow with and through them...

And now in this time of grieving, we can finally find a true connection as friends, not as Pastor-worship, so to speak.

To Char, I extend my arms, a hug of love, understanding, compassion, and eternal friendship--through from Oregon, true distance of any degree, be it time, space, or even death, need never separate the depth of true friendship.

Refuge Christian Fellowship meets every Sunday mornings at 9:30 in Santa Rosa, CA at 525 5th Street.

http://www.refugecf.com/

A few days ago, a week about, the rain fell on the first day of fall and now some days into autumn, the sun shines through the brisk coolness, the leaves are beginning to change their color, and warm coats, wool caps, and mittens are donned.  College kids have replaced the hoards of camera flashing tourists; and the town begins to crawl steadily into the hush of the still lifelessness of winter, to turn into one-selves, lose ourselves in introspection during the cold winter months to follow.  We close down shop (metaphorically), we disappear inside of ourselves, some grow depressed without the glare and daily blast of Vitamin D, and I, too, seem to alter my perspective in the cycles of the seasons and that of the planet, but, save for the monthly hormonal visits, I become more alive as the colors of nature appear, more vivid against the grayness of the sky.  In the cold, my creativity sparks and my zeal for life awakens--even more, and I once again find myself falling in love with the fall, find myself in love with the Ashland fall, not only with the new gentleman in my life, but with autumn itself, and, yes, even with the memories of past falls that once were--

Yet even still my heart sinks with longing for what once was, a certain little coffee shop whose laughter still rings out in my heart, the warm smell of the coffee bean roasting was not the only invitation, but the love, warmth, and acceptance of loved ones--

And what hurts is that this past is truly now past, what hurts now is those pleasant memories are singed with those of the screaming, the throwing, the rages, the paranoia, and the horrors--

At present, I am aware that my first love walks the street of the town I am living in, and despite some fears for my safety, my heart goes out to him with the desire that he have a warm bed to sleep in, food to fill his belly, and the earnest and hopeful prayer that he will seek out the appropriate healing he so desperately needs and be free from the ravaging lies that are so devastating and destructive--

For he is my Heathcliff and I his Catherine Linton, and as she declared in Wuthering Heights, I say of my Scary-Dark-Boy:

"If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be, and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger, I would not seem a part of it"--and for my part I share the words one character speaks to another in my play written about my relationship with my first love, pointing to his heart:

"Right here.  You are still right here in my heart.  Even after everything that happened, you are still right here.  You once told me that I needed to find a love more that fire, bells, and whistles.  I needed to know that I am loved.  With you, I have that.  Even when you are far away, when you are not here physically, I still know that I am loved.  When I look into your eyes, I see the reflection of my own soul."

And so it is, as the Gershwins penned, "the way you wear your hat, the way you sip your tea, the memory of all that, no, they can't take that away from me."

And so they shan't.

Though, we will never ever "meet again on the bumpy road to love" but you, my Scary-Dark-Boy, will always remain.  In My Heart.  Forever.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ehMx12dSF6w