Jekyll/Hyde

Another head hangs lowly

Child is slowly taken

And the violence, caused such silence

Who are we mistaken?

But you see, it's not me

It's not my family

In your head, in your head, they are fighting

Zombie

 Life and all that comes with it, even our human nature, are not ultimately defined as black or white, yet we all have the nuances of both light and dark within.  

Lately, I've been pondering over my life and recalling all the darkness within, the times I exploded with emotional outburst of rage, seemingly a plethora of times throughout and with much shame and destruction of some friendships along the way.  However, many remain and they have become more than friends but family as I am grateful for their camaraderie and companionship.  Why, I ask myself, are they still by my side, as it were, whether be it near or far, I remain in their heart?  

Due to my struggles with Bipolar and PTSD, I find in myself these times of both light and dark as reactions to the exterior world as well as internal beliefs that shaped my thinking causing the reactions.  This has been a lifelong struggle with the forces of light and dark, good and evil, within my being.  The struggle to understand why, to decipher out who I am, and to be at peace from the tumult of the storms within.

It is of such shame that I think of all the pain I inflicted while acting as my Hyde persona, the trauma I might have inflicted on so many that I may never be able to resolve or repair.  In that, I extend my apologies to the universe in hopes that it will reach my victims that they find healing and freedom.  With that, I do my best to persevere, work through my own myriad of traumatic experiences and unravel their effect.  

For so many years not having a real causation for this dark part of my soul, my Hyde, that when I would explode, I thought nothing of it as it was just a normalcy that was quickly covered over and the subject avoided.  A scant amount of healing, working through, or repercussion was brought upon me.  Thus, I had to learn the hard way of dealing with the difficulties of the wild swing of mood disorder built in with the abuse causing the reactivity of PTSD.  My emotional darkness exploitations were varied between the fight or flight depending on the relationship and circumstance.  Furthermore, flight would be a form of freeze as I would disappear into the safety of my own mind, spacing out away from the attack of the external. Fight would come later, when approached by someone who was not as threatening to me, and as a resulting factor of the previous abuse flung at me.  

Thus, it is really for all of us.  In the end, we all are capable of being a Jekyll and a Hyde, have the nuance of black and white, good and evil, light and dark within.  Often times, we judge others too harshly when confronted with the darker side, feeling their dislike, distrust, and paint ourselves in the light, as the victim of such reproach.  I can attest that I am guilty of this.  Other times, we judge ourselves the more harsh with the bitterness of self hatred and loathing, falling into the despair of depression.  Yes, I, too, am very guilty of this.  

Since, this propensity in all of us to light and dark, to be a Jekyll and a Hyde, we must then decide to work towards healing within and healing without.  Beginning within, ironing out the wrinkles and tarnishes from the stain of trauma on our soul, allowing us to heal, forgive, and resolve ourselves to admitting openly all of our facets.  Willingness to be open about our strengths and our flaws affords the ability to step back from the heat of the drama of attacking another and recognize that they too are confronted by the source of their own pain and reacting from that.  So, in the heat of the moment, pausing, stepping back and further outward almost as if the situation were a small speck in the grand scheme of the Universe, for it is, will bring about the realization that none are inherently good or evil.

So, with that I acknowledge my crazy within, resolve to not paint myself good or evil, light or dark, but embrace the nuances of my mind, whatever the causation, brought upon by all the circumstances and relations of my life knowing that all were lessons to shape my evolutionary journey towards wholeness and freedom.

Dreams

I know I felt like this before

But now I'm feeling it even more

Because it came from you

Then I open up and see

The person falling here is me

A different way to be

A Blog About A Dream I had

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GZudpHzV9vk

So, hereto, begins a dream I had and since its regarding a popular 80's and 90's TV show that had a huge influence on me, both as an actor and as a human, I think it fits in within the Cafe-Girl theme of all things film and media related, in a sense.

In the age where TV shows and films from my youth are being rebooted, I think its fitting that this dream centered around the reboot of my beloved Night Court.  

So, the reboot of this fabulous work of pop culture art began with each episode following the life span of each of the main characters from the cast above.  My role was as a daughter to the lead, Harry Stone, and my story of growing up as the daughter, Elizabeth Stone, wove through the tapestry that is the lives of those involved.  With six episodes beginning with of course, Harry, Elizabeth traveled between each character discovering their origins that led them to be a part of the story viewed on Night Court and what their lives were like after, told in an almost documentary style with a flashback  on past images.  Their stories helped Elizabeth come to terms with her own life purpose and make the decision to finish law school, following in the footsteps of her father.  

The final episode followed Elizabeth in present day, fully grown, trying to make sense of her life, figure out what she was meant to do, her life purpose as it were.  At one point, we discover that after a failed marriage leaving her pregnant with twins, Elizabeth has developed an addiction to anxiety medication.  This leads her to a mental breakdown ending in hospitalization where she is being scolded for the addiction as they are harmful to her unborn children, the pills of which were prescribed by a doctor.  Alone in her hospital bed, in the agony that comes from guilt, she lay hooked up to monitors and in the pit of despair.  Her father, Harry, came to her, crawled beside her in bed, and held her close as he sang the lullaby he had created for her as a child:

"Rest my precious darling

Be at peace my beautiful darling

All will be made well

Rest my precious darling"

At this, Elizabeth was able to rest to the point of a deep sleep and upon waking the world seemed not so desolate or desperate.  We, then, find ourselves in a montage: 

Elizabeth completing the bar exam.

Elizabeth taking her two children to daycare.

The camera following a judge walking through the halls of a courthouse, people nodding, saying, 'Hello Judge Stone.'

The door of the courthouse being opened, a woman clerk saying, "All Rise, The Honorable Judge Stone presiding".

The camera pans around as Elizabeth enters, not Harry and crosses up to her bench. 

She glances in the direction of the court clerk and sees Mac, fade into the new court clerk of a young perky woman.

Then glancing at Christine Sullivan who fades to a young male attorney.

 Then glancing at Dan Fielding who fades into a young and very sexual female DA.

 Then finally glancing at Bull and Roz who fade into new guards.

 Then back to Elizabeth who says, "Please be seated".  

She then picks up the gavel, looks at it, "All right," with a twistful flare, then banging it, she says, "Let's do this."  

The credits roll and with that a new day dawns, the reboot of Night Court with a new cast, new storyline has begun.

Okay, I, for one, think that would be a bomb-ass reboot, I don't know about you and part of the reason for sharing it is so I can remember to write it down for the hopeful purpose of seeing it become a reality.   But, the dream has an even deeper meaning for me personally and as my life and art are free falling happily into a realm of truth to the point of radical, I will share that with you all now.

As a child already dealing with depression and anxiety, I found such a reprieve and comfort in Night Court, to the point, that I fantasized that Harry Anderson was indeed my father, that I was a part of the show.  The character, Elizabeth, was not something I dreamed up last night but a life-long fantasy, if not desire.  As a child, I did not fully understand this desire, but now I can see it stems from a deeper need for connection with those that love unconditionally and seek to uplift.  For reasons I care not to divulge at this time, that was lacking within my own heart.  Thus, this dream has the deeper meaning of finding healing, comfort, and courage from this sort of family.  

There are times, even in my present adult life, where I just wish I could close my eyes, take a deep breath, and I was Elizabeth Anderson, with the past dream of being a part of this show.  Times when life seems too difficult due to a plethora of issues ranging from financial woes to emotional blights, I find myself desiring to disappear from this reality and to appear in this almost tangible yet unreal reality.***

But, if that were to happen, in truth that reality would have its host of problems and issues.  Life is full of both the good and the bad and its our, at times, difficult job to find the gratitude and lessons learned within each moment.  In this, the goal of our individual lives is to continuously evolve to find understanding, peace, and become whole within our life circumstances.  

Dreams

I know I've felt like this before

But now I'm feeling it even more

Because it came from you

Then I open up and see

The person falling here is me

A different way to be

I want more

Impossible to ignore

Impossible to ignore

They'll come true

Impossible not to do

Impossible not to do

Now I tell you openly

You have my heart so don't hurt me

You're what I couldn't find

Totally amazing mind

So understanding and so kind

You're everything to me

***(Perhaps that's the story to be told, of a young girl's fantasy becoming true and the lessons learned.  We shall see.)

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www.cafegirlproductions.com

One Final Time

July 14^th, 1995

The early morning summer fog descended heavy upon the town as many converged on the local YMCA, buses ready to be filled with luggage and young campers, excited with the anticipation a week spent away at Camp Ravenspirit. The energy amongst the children and the teenage counselors was vibrant as they packed the belly of the bus with their belongings and boarded the cramped quarters for their journey northwards.

One young teenage boy stood slightly on the outskirts of the excitement, watching. This was his first year as a junior counselor and he watched as the older teen counselors moved expertly about, so used to how to make the morning run smoothly. He felt as awkward and out of place as he did his first year at his high school. Smaller than most boys his age, his brown eyes smoldered with the desire to hide his insecurity, buried himself within and trying nearly unsuccessfully to appear cooler than he felt he looked. None of his friends he had spent summers with as campers were going to be there this week, working as junior counselors. The busy hum of the chatter of those around him thronged around him, almost like a sort of music. On his back, hung his acoustic guitar in its case, something he had just taken up. He felt the gentle breeze blow back his shoulder-length black hair as he shivered with the thought of the oncoming responsibility of the two weeks to come.

If he had been less lost in his thoughts, as he always seemed to dwell too much, he would have paid more attention to his hectic surroundings and would have noticed a young teenage girl also standing a little on the outskirts. Her hair pulled back into a low pony-tail, her eyes wide with wonder watching all the goings-on and the chatter swirling about her. Her purple backpack slung on her shoulders with her suitcase, pillow, and sleeping bag at her feet awaiting her chance to pack it away and board the bus. She, too, shivered with nervousness and uncertainty of how to behave in this setting. This was her first year at Camp Crowshaven, too old to be a camper yet had been involved in student council and girls' scouts, the powers that be had allowed her to join this year as a junior counselor. This new world she was joining today seemed as foreign as if she had landed in another country or even more-so another planet.

Her name was Ruby and his name was Les. At this moment, they had yet to have their first time meeting each other, yet to know just how their lives would affect each others in the weeks, summers, and years to come.

The rumbling of the bus rolled through the early city morning, the streets empty of traffic. The teenagers and children on the bus paid no mind to the day that would unfold for those not traveling with them. The busyness of the workday, bills, and responsibilities was still a far cry from their youthful, seemingly carefree understandings.

All that Ruby could think of as she peered outside the bus window was how to start up a conversation with the cute boy sitting next to her. All Les could think about was how he liked to look at this girl sitting next to him, her soft delicate facial features and her thin, shapely body brought out the new sexual feelings he had been discovering these last few years. He cleared his throat, hoping for her response. She looked over at him, eyebrows raised.

“Um, hi,” he smirked back at her. “I'm Les.”

“Oh, uh, hi,” she said, slipping a loose strand of hair nervously behind her ear. “I'm Ruby.”

“First year?” he wanted to know.

“Yeah, you?” she responded.

“Um, as junior counselor, I was a camper before, you?” he answered.

“No, never been to camp,” she said matter of factually. “My parents thought it would be a good way for me to make friends, get out of my shell.”

She pulled the flannel shirt further down over her wrists, covering her hands. She looked back out the window at the city passing by like a montage of movie scenes and bit her lip anxiously. Les looked her over and finally said, awkwardly,

“You okay?”

She hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say and then answered without looking from the window.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” was all she would give.

They rode in silence then, amidst the chatter of the other voices on the bus. There were a few other teenagers, junior counselors both male and female, some older and some their age, nearby. Les turned towards them.

“Hey,” he said to no one in particular. They turned at them. There was a girl with long bushy curly hair, a tallish average looking man with a belly sort of rotund and wavy short brown hair, a girl on the shorter side with short-cut blue hair, a tall angular and could be thought of as cute guy with long, soft brown hair with a Greek fisherman's hat on top, a heavy-set girl with shoulder-length brown hair, a sporty looking blond girl with penetrating blue eyes. They all looked him over.

“Hey yourself,” came the girl with the blue hair.

“I'm Les,” he managed to squeak out.

Blue hair grinned at him.

“Hey first year, I'm Howard,” she laughed. “Well, that's my camp name. This is (pointing to the girl with bushy curly hair) Tera, and this is (pointing to the rotund belly boy), Geoff, spelled like GE-OFF, This guy (nodding towards the boy with the fisherman's hat) Turbo, also camp name, That is (with a nod towards the heavy-set girl) Kate, and that pretty young thing (towards blue eyes) is also a first year and she calls herself, Jess.”

Jess, or Blue Eyes, looked over at him, her eyes smiling, “Got all that, Les.”

“Um, think so,” he laughed. “This is Ruby.” He said, nudging the girl sitting next to him. She turned and smiled shyly at them and quietly joined the conversation.

Howard smiled at her. “You also first year?”

Ruby nodded, quietly taking them all in.

Howard, obviously somewhat of the ringleader, grinned over at her.

“Don't worry we won't bite...well, not hard anyway.”

The rest of the teenagers laughed, including Les, and Ruby joined in quietly. For the first time, she found herself warming to those around her, felt a small sense of acceptance from each of them. No one here knew her past, knew what she was like at school, knew what she had done or what she had been through the year previous. She folded her arms and hugged herself tightly. Also, she tried hard to avert her eyes from Les' face, she couldn't really help noticing how cute he was increasingly becoming to her.

“Les that short for anything?” Geoff, the rotund belly boy, wanted to know. Les shook his head slightly and said nothing, pressing his lips together firmly with his jaw set. Geoff didn't seem to notice and went on, “Les? Leslie? Boys can be called Leslie? No, wait, I've got it, Lester. Its Lester, right?”

Les said nothing but could feel his face redden, not just from embarrassment but from the anger building inside. Would he never be free from this taunting, even here amongst these new friends?

“That's right, isn't it?” Geoff continued.

“Hey, hey, G,” Howard started to shush him. She looked over at Les. “You okay?”

Geoff finally noticed. “Hey,” he said, blushing. “Don't get mad, okay? I didn't mean anything by it.”

Les stared straight ahead, trying to calm himself the way his therapist had taught him. Geoff didn't stop.

“Look, man, don't get all...trippy, okay?”

Les counted to ten silently and slowly. Then, releasing his breath, he turned to Geoff,

“All right, its just that I hate that name, please don't call me that anymore.”

Everyone nodded in affirmation.

“So, what should we call you then? What do you prefer?” Jess wanted to know. Les realized how pretty she actually was and felt the growing attraction building inside of him.

“Les is fine,” he said.

“Les is more,” joked Geoff. “You know, I like 'Trippy'?”

“Trippy?”

“You know, when you were all upset, I said that,” Geoff explained, back-pedaling.

“Trippy?” Les repeated. “Really? Trippy?”

Howard confirmed, “Yeah, I don't know what's worse, Lester, please excuse, Les, or Trippy.”

“Well, then Trip,” Geoff finally apologized, albeit awkwardly and too late. “You know, for a camp name.”

“Trip,” Les let that name roll around in his head for a minute. Being a camper all these years, he'd always wondered how the counselors got their names and hoped someday to have a “name” and a “story” of his own.

“Yeah, no one will ever make the mistake of calling you Lest, I mean, the wrong name again,” Geoff brought out and grinned over at Les. Les looked him over and decided this Jacob kid wasn't so bad after all.   

Dreams

Feeling a little discouraged?

So, I've been feeling a little discouraged, worn out, overwhelmed, or just depressed.

Why am I following this path I am on? Why am I pursuing this dream? What's the point if I don't achieve some sort of glory?

In life, we aren't given a crystal ball that shows us just where we are going to be or want to be.  There doesn't seem to be any guarantees that we are going to get what we want.  So, why try?

And, this thought has been rambling itself through my mind as I moved about the last few days, maybe weeks.  As I shot scenes for my latest film, worked on the play-readings, worked on my own plays I'm writing, or what have, I just couldn't shake that feeling of, "Why?"

The answer that came back to me is, because its what you can do.  Would life really be worth living if we weren't pursuing some goal, some passion, that keeps us getting up in the morning? Even when there seems no end result, no shining bright lights around the corner, don't give up.

Why? Because the alternative is succumbing to the monotomy of a life without meaning, devoid of purpose and even worse joy.

After all, this blog's meme is, "what you visualize becomes your reality", a powerful truth I have discovered already in this past.  Sometimes, you got to just keep persevering no matter what, even when those visions seem far off, distant, or untrue.

So, my plan to get over the doldrums and the nagging questions of doubt is simply this, not to give up.  To keep putting one foot in front of the other, taking one job after another and to keep moving forward.  Even when its hard, when you just don't feel it, because if the alternative is settling, then why not be a little reckless and live a life of happiness, where ever it may lead?

Cafe Girl: A Story of Coffee, Sex, Cigarettes, & True Love

Dreams

Act Two, Scene Three


Lights show the end of the day, early evening as the rise on cafe. Matthew is busy closing up shop, putting chairs up on tables, vacuuming (miming with real vacuum but silent, the audience will get the idea, one beat and Deborah enters, knocking on the door. Matthew doesn't hear for a moment, so she knocks louder, yelling his name over the din. Then finally she enters, crosses to him, touches him on the shoulder. He turns, startled.

Deborah:

Hi.

Matthew:

Good to see you!

Deborah:

(entering, looking around)

Closing for the day?

Matthew:

Doesn't it look like it?

Deborah:

Need any help?

Matthew:

No. But thank you. I just need to put this away.

(gestures towards vacuum)

And, then how about a walk?

Deborah:

It looks like snow?

Matthew:

First snows are the best times for walks.

(He smiles, she returns the smile)

Let me just--

(He moves to vacuum, placed where ever the director wants him, makes a show of rolling up cord, and dragging vacuum cleaner up stage to kitchen, exits, Deborah looks around, then Matthew re-enters).

All ready?

Deborah:

Yeah. Its so cozy here.

Matthew:

Yeah, I like it too. Its just a shame that--

Deborah:

What?

Matthew:

Business is slow, is all.

(She nods understandingly)

Ready? I know a great place.

Deborah:

Okay.

(They exit through door, Matthew locks it, lights fade on coffee shop as they slowly cross left across stage.)

Just beginning to snow. Its so beautiful.

(Does a ballet-type spin, stops, embarrassed.)

Sorry.

Matthew:

Why?

Deborah:

I just...

Matthew:

It was beautiful.

(She pulls coat closer to her, sticks hands in pockets, no gloves, pulls up hood.)

Hands cold?

(takes gloves out of his pocket.)

Hear, have mine.

Deborah:

But you need them....

(he pushes them towards her)....

Matthew:

Please, I insist. I'm used to it anyway.

Deborah:

Wait, I have a better idea.

(She hands him one, they put gloves on free hands and hold the bare hands, begin walk.)

Matthew:

Wow. Good plan.

Deborah:

You were telling me, on the phone, about your last girl-friend?

Matthew:

Yeah. Not much more to say. She cheated on me, with the whole town, you know. Girls and guys. So, its just messed up. I had the engagement ring ready and everything.

(He takes a few steps in front of her then turns)

You?

Deborah:

Me?

Matthew:

Your ex?

Deborah:

Oh, he was a real slob, drank too much, smoked too much, never completed anything. Lived with me without paying rent or anything...a big mooch. Lame.

Matthew:

Yeah. Looks like we've both been through the ringer!

(They walk a little.)

Deborah:

Yeah.

(They walk in silence. She pulls out hand, turns away.)

Kind of makes you wonder why you do it.

Matthew:

(He takes her hand in his, looks at her.)

It'll be all right. This time.

Deborah:

How do you know?

Matthew:

( He studies her, shakes his head.)

Because, you're all right, yourself, Debi.

Deborah:

Eh, don't call me that. I like Deborah, or even, Deb.

Matthew:

Well, then you're all right, yourself, Deborah.

(thinks)

What about Rah?

Deborah:

What about what?

Matthew:

DeboRAH!

Deborah:

(laughs)

What should I call you then, Hew? Or?

Matthew:

Just Matt. My mom calls me Matthew when she's mad at me.

(mimics mom)

Matthew William Downey!

(They both laugh.)

Deborah:

Sounds familiar!

(mimics mom)

Deborah Ruth Seller!

(silence.)

Where are we going?

Matthew:

You'll see. But, first a little detour, okay?

Deborah:

Do I have a choice?

(laughs)

Matthew:

Sure, you always have a choice, Deborah.

(Matthew crosses downstage center, where stands statue of a donkey.)

Few years ago, my friends and I randomly discovered this. Don't know who made it or even why its here? But, anyways, we started "feeding" it.

Deborah:

What?

Matthew:

It likes this, five nickels. Only five nickels.

Deborah:

Why "five nickels"?

Matthew:

See, they fit perfectly in his mouth. Look.

(He inserts nickels and gestures to them.)

Deborah:

Yeah, I see. So, five nickels?

Matthew:

Yep, five nickels!

Deborah:

Not quarters, pennies, dimes?

Matthew:

No, five nickels, only five nickels. Mr. Donkey here knows what he likes.

(They both laugh, grab hands, continue walking.)

Matthew:

So, you mentioned you finished school? Congratulations!

Deborah:

Thank you.

Matthew:

So, what's next?

Deborah:

Not sure yet. I mean, maybe more school to get a real degree. Seems like nowadays a bachelors doesn't mean much. A professor told me a bachelors is like a high school diploma these days...so what did I just do with four, no, five years of my life? I don't know. I don't want to live my life doing the 9-5, you know, going to work, coming home, paying the bills, feeding the kids, the house, the car. It all seems so pointless. There must be something more, you know?

Matthew:

Yeah, I know what you mean.

Deborah:

What do you want to do?

Matthew:

I don't know yet.

Deborah:

Work in the coffee shop?

Matthew:

Probably not.

(after a moment)

My parents want me to go into the family business, but I don't know. Thought about being a pilot once.

Deborah:

Really?

Matthew:

Yeah, took some lessons just had to finish the final before I got my initial license.

Deborah:

Can you fly?

Matthew:

Sort of. I'll take you up sometime, anywhere you want to go.

Deborah:

Anywhere? I've always wanted to go to Mexico.

Matthew:

Then, we'll go.

Deborah:

Right on! But seriously, you should just do what you love. That's what everyone says, do what you love.

Matthew:

Yeah, what do you love?

(She looks at him, smiles.)

Deborah:

Dancing, yeah. I love it. Unfortunately, according to my parents, you can't make money at that. But, I don't know, I just...when I dance, I feel free. Guess that's why I love it.

(Silence.)

So, where are we going?

Matthew:

Almost there, just a little climb.

(They walk hand in hand down stage left, there can be a small boulder big enough for them to stand on together to show overlook.)

Matthew:

This is what I wanted to show you.

Deborah:

(staring, transfixed.)

Its so beautiful.

Matthew:

Right?

(They stare together in silence.)

Deborah:

Thank you, for bringing me here.

(She turns to him and he to her. They look into each others eyes for a moment, then slowly, awkwardly lean in, and kiss.)

I think this is the start of a very special relationship.

(They kiss again, lights fade.)

Deborah:

(in blackout)

Once upon a time we all walked on the golden road. It was a fair highway, through the Land of Lost Delight; shadow and sunshine were blessedly mingled, and every turn and dip revealed a fresh charm and a new loveliness to eager hearts and unspoiled eyes.

Be Discreet....

When I spoke to Justin yesterday before work, he told me I should be more careful about what I shared and that furthermore I was getting quite a following, even more so that I never knew who could be watching.

But, that's the point, really.

He said, people might think I'm crazy.

I am crazy.

At least, I feel that way.  And, its what all the doctors say.  That its all in my head, dreams and such. Speaking of which, I had another one again last night.

I was in at the entrance to a tunnel, being pursued by something...or someone.  It was frightening.  Yet, inside the tunnel and on the other side, it was more frightening.  Yet, in a different way.  I heard the man's voice, calling to me from the other side.  Saying my name over and over, but it wasn't this name, Jane, it was something else that in the dream was all too familiar yet now seems so foreign.

I cannot remember entirely what that name was, only that it seemed so comfortable whilst asleep yet now seems so strange, as I said foreign.

The nature of the dream makes me think that I may be in danger.  And, what Justin says makes me wonder...Maybe I should be a little more careful what I reveal about my thoughts and dreams and such. But, my hope is that someone is watching that understands...how crazy I feel and that may be they can help me...somehow.

Talk later.  Peace, y'all.

Mr. E!

Dreams They Transform

You hear a lot of talk these days about, listening to your dreams, manifesting your dreams, following your dreams, or finding out the significance of our dreams, so much in fact that a lot of people see it as a bunch of hoo-haw new age religion crap.

But, I'm here to tell you that it has weight and really does make a difference.  Because, I've had dreams of significant import that have either pointed me in the direction I need to go, answered the questions needed for the next step in my life-focus, and brought an enormous amount of healing to my long-standing anxieties.

The first dream was that I was visiting my two old room-mates, Vanessa and Chloe at our old apartment.  For some reason, I was carrying my kitty, Leo, with me.  (See: the kitty that is afraid of anyone else but myself and my boyfriend and who never leaves the house so that right there is an oddity.)  The town-house apartment we lived in had only two bedrooms, but in the dream there were three, one large and two small surrounding the bathroom.  It was in this phantom third bedroom where the stage was set.

Chloe, according to Vanessa, had had a creep of a gentleman caller over awhile back and they had managed to scare him off.  But then he came back!  Vanessa opened the door but before she did she handed us both two "rogue credit union" pens.  (For those of you who don't know, they are differently neon colored pens given out as souvenirs from a local bank.)

Here is an example:

Holding my cat, I watched as these two friends of mine tied this guy, evil though he was, to a chair and preceded to use the pens as weapons to stab him repeatedly in the neck, the jugular more like.  They urged me to help and I did once but when I saw the blood trickle down, I stopped because I didn't want to be convicted of murder.  All the while, this fella kept screaming obscenities at all of us.  Was he deserving of this treatment? I escaped from the house, sheltering Leo, ran back to my house and anxiously reported to my boyfriend that two of my bestest friends had gone completely berserk.

What does this mean? You ask.  Stay tuned!

The next night I had a nightmare, of sorts.  In the dream, a female friend of both mine and my boyfriend's was trying to seduce him away from me while I sat perched on his lap.  It was disturbing me so greatly that I told him so.  This prompted a fight between us which brought about our breakup that was somehow all my fault.  I woke up sobbing into my pillow which prompted my lovely boyfriend barely awake himself to take me in his arms until I quieted down.

 In the bathroom later, I breathed deep and reflected upon this, this dream-like state reflecting my long-existing anxieties and insecurities and it dawned on me: I am not alone in these fears.  Unfortunately, it is a common reality among women and girls to be anxious over loss of love and to be competitive with their sisters, as it were.  This is where the catty girl-fights spring from, I believe.  I released these fears upon realizing this and crawled into bed and drifted into another dream.

I was on a film set, starring in a movie directed by my good friend, Dan McCloy, who had just discovered he had a good friend at the BBC who knew Matt Smith and had called in a favor to get him to star in one of his movies.  (I take it Mr. Smith did not have a choice in this matter.)  Well, this is how I chose to settle this little matter in the dream when it suddenly dawned on me that Mr. McCloy, a no-budget yet brilliant film-maker, writer, and director, had no real means to cast Matt Smith in one of his films, maybe, this is a prophecy for him, of sorts.  Who can tell?

Two of my oldest friends in life, MLE and Corinne (or Bikini Girl as some know her, or Rinnie as I do) were present as extras or some such.  For some reason, a bunch of us were standing in a circle passing around a bowl full of liquid chocolate.  My dear friend, Corinne, arranged it so that same bowl would somehow be randomly dumped all over my head, not as a prank but as she and MLE explained in shrill whispers, "so that the boys would have to lick it off of you and when it got to Matt, you could make your move!"

Thanks, girls!  And, yes, eventually Matt and I did get erotic, a fantasy that has basically over-taken all of my waking moments since (I basically can't think straight).

Love Me Like You Do

So, what is the meaning of all this?  Well, I'm glad you asked.

It's healing from my past which caused a break-up and a latent mistrust of girl-friends everywhere.  I no longer have to fear that every female person I meet is an instant "frenemy."  In both these dreams, both sets of girls were doing something to help me overcome these fears in either protecting me from an abusive man, albeit violently, or as in the latter dream, helping me to achieve my dreams, symbolized by my bedding Matt Smith.  (Yes Please!)

Now, I can finally say I have forgiven the past friends of the female variety who have caused this rift and insecurity and embrace the new powerful force of the feminine relationships I do have.

To celebrate this, I leave you with this song:

Wannabe

A Breathe of Life; A Quiet Repose: the Mystery at Work

I find myself lately getting lost in the chaos of life, do you?  Whether it be illness, financial difficulties, emotional trauma, busyness with work or household duties, at times it feels difficult to keep up and maintain a semblance of peace within myself, and therefore, I forget to take the time to breathe, enjoy the moment, and relax in knowing that somehow, someway, it all gets done.  And in the end, the details of life are of less importance than the relationships we form, the blessings from our creator that enrich our lives.  And truly, if we invest in that which is of eternal value, relationships to God, our loved ones, ourselves, aren't we of much more value for the mundane?

There is a saying in the world of the theatre, when all is said in done, worries about opening night and how it all comes through, it eventually does and with more grandeur and element of surprise than what was ever imagined.  In short, "It's a mystery!"

And so too, in our spiritual walks, however that may come about, we find in trusting ourselves into the hands of the divine, we are blessed with the infinite knowledge that everything will work out in the way it is supposed to, and with precious hopes that we will come away as unscathed as possible.

Truly one of the blessings of meeting my love, my partner, my best friend for life is that he encourages me, as I him, to follow and pursue our dreams and in the end, it is that which preserves our relationship, as we seek out to define ourselves apart from each other, we are brought even closer by the depths of our own understanding, an appreciation of the trust of letting ourselves be.  For, as I am learning as of late, in every relationship there is a natural ebb and flow of closeness which seeks to help us to breathe, step back, and come together again with renewed love and interest.  I am speaking not merely of my partner in crime and life, but also in the friendships and loyalties of my true friends, (Reader: you know who you are!)

So, my message, mostly for myself, and perhaps can be of benefit to you, may you follow your dreams for the wellbeing of your own psyche, spiritual growth, and that of your most cherished and deepest loves, relationships.

“Do the thing you love more than anything in life! You might become a bit unpredictable, sometimes cranky, but you will be happier than you ever imagined possible.”

Remember, in taking this step to personal growth and pursuing our dreams, we do find the chance to breathe in life, repose, and allow the mysteries and blessings of life to awaken us to health, happiness, and spiritual wellbeing.

"Working" your calling!

Well, as many of you know, a few weeks ago I ended a play entitled, "Working" based on a Studs Terkel novel.
I, of course, played the hooker, as you can understand, wait, what, was I type-cast?  So, in a sense, I have been in recovery mode since the play ended in what seems like ages ago, but really is a few weeks.  It was funny when I first got the part, I was feeling like I was the most uncommitted actor to this show.  I was more concerned with the actual business of making a living than "working", and yes, I admit, that many times I thought, "God, I can't do this, I can't pay the bills or make money if I have this obligation."  But over and over, I was told by God to see it through, that yes, there was a reason for everything and that it would work out as it is supposed to, even if I couldn't see it yet.  And, so, grinding my teeth, I pursued with, at least, a shred of faith masquerading as a whole lot.  (And isn't that all that God asks, that we have just an eensy-weensy bit of faith and he will supply the rest...)

So, I kept at it and strangely, my character and songs started to come upon me.  The character grew in me throughout the months leading up the late rehearsals and through the process of putting on the show.  And, surprisingly, the songs that I was sure I would never get, I memorized, danced, sang, and even put a little "drama' into them.  The funny thing, I began to learn a little bit about myself; how truly everything has a purpose, a season, and will work out for good in the end.

My history in theatre, and therefore in life, is one of various mountain peaks and potholes.  From the earliest of age, as soon as I could hold a pen, I was writing, creating, putting on plays, writing plays.  Without the understanding of Shakespeare or any formal training, at a tender age, I was constructing plays, and yes, sitcoms.  I kept dreaming of fame, fortune, success.  I took a few acting classes here and there, never was in any plays, but learned enough that it was something I wanted to do, something that made me feel good.  I also met some really amazing friends, to be specific, my little sister, Brooke!!

There was no drama department in my high school, really, in a high school and middle school population that came to approximately 120 students in totality, there was not really a department of anything, just a few classrooms here and there where we learned a thing or two.  (At one point, and this was before I was there, the school didn't even have walls (cubes), just open spaces with desks...and yeah, I guess the school realized that their system was 'really taking off" so they put up walls!)  So, in high school, I pursued outside forms of creativity, mainly voice and chorus.  Back then, my dream had always been to sing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" from The Wizard of Oz.  Dorothy is possibly my favorite character ever, Judy Garland is my favorite actress, and The Wizard of Oz is by far the greatest movie ever made and the best antidepressant ever (if you don't agree with me, we'll have to take this outside!)  So, yeah, for like an open house night, I sang "somewhere over the rainbow".  Looking back, that was the first time in my life (besides working one summer as a babysitter so I could attain my own phone line) where I realized that in faith, hard work, and diligence, dreams can come true, but let's stress mostly the faith in God and the Universe part mostly!

So, all through middle and high school, I was the awkward, dorky one that got teased a lot.  For whatever reason, I just didn't understand how to be in society, not that any of us did really at that age, or do now, but still there it is.  Maybe you can say it was because of "difficulty" at home that caused this lack of confidence and self esteem or blame it on a "chemical imbalance", who can tell? (In the beginning of high school, I got dragged without my consent to a psych doctor that put me on Ritalin and then prozac, never allowed to work through emotionally my problems, just told "take the meds and you will feel better").  But, as I see now, it all works out in the end.  My singing and love for creativity in all forms kept me going, when nothing else was working or felt right, somehow I found myself in that, and eventually led me on the path to my higher power, God, Jesus, the Great Spirit, what have you....and I met some pretty awesome friends along the way.

So, I got to my Senior year and I am about ready to graduate and my parents and I have this conversation about what to pursue.  They keep pushing me to write and to take classes in writing, and I say that I want to do acting and singing, and that I am already a good writer, and they say but with classes I can get better...but its still, yeah, I want to do this.
My first college year I landed at San Francisco State University, which is completely random and just weird that it ever happened, so much of me has changed since that first crazy year.  I took my GE classes (almost flunked out my first semester), took acting one, creative writing, and singing.  In acting, I was a shy and timid little girl that hungered for fame or what have you but was just too afraid to take a chance,  But, that year I had this drama teacher (Mr. Washington, not Denzel, I forget his first name) told me "you have the talent and can do it" (I remember that even if I don't remember his name, only that my friend, Heather and I, would mistakenly call him "denzel").

I left that school after a year, the first of my friends to leave.  For whatever reason, SFSU is a school where people don't really graduate, a few do, but most just pass through.  Its like a train station, you come in, stay for awhile, until the next train leads you on.  I picked up the skill of being in school and became comfortable in a big city, with new, crazy ideas and lifestyle choices, mostly Southern Californians who laughed at us Northern Calis because we said "hella".  I ended up back at my Junior College where I again pursued drama and writing amongst taking general ed requirements.  I was more comfortable in my drama class.  I liked the teacher and I liked my partner in dramatic crime, Michael.  Yeah, okay, so after the class ended, the teacher seduced me and then left me, forgot about me. and moved to the East Coast and yeah, because of that, I withdrew more and more into my pain, but hey, I learned about life and all its sorrows, and gained another great friend, who is in effect, a hanger-on.  (A friend that lasts plus decade and through whatever crap you throw at them or go through with them, they are still there smiling and holding your hand at the end of it, the hangers on!)  To be completely honest, this guy and the friends from SFSU never stopped encouraging me to follow my dreams, write, and pursue theatre even when I lost heart.

So, after a random running around through the streets of Europe, I ended up in Ashland, Oregon, the town I was born to live in, to attend Southern Oregon University, where, yes, I pursued theatre.  Because of the evil drama teacher experience, my anxiety started to set in.  I had to audition for acting one and I failed.  I lost heart and the anxiety grew worse and worse,  further more, I blamed myself for failing.  I became depressed. stressed, anxious all the time, and sick at heart.  About half way through that, fate dealt another hand of fortune by guiding me to take acting classes at RCC with a teacher by the name of John Cole.  Not knowing the exact nature of the turmoil I was going through, he gave me Nina from The Seagull to work on, and she has remained my character and her story has and is mine.  As I was abused my drama teachers and such, so was Nina mistreated by those in the fame and fortune world and her line:

"He didn't believe in the theatre, all my dreams he'd laugh at, and little by little I quit believing in it myself, and lost heart.  And there was the strain of love, jealousy, constant anxiety...I got to be small and trashy, and played without thinking..."

pretty much sums up all that was going on in my life, both internally and externally, at that time.

  I finally left theatre behind, seemingly forever, during my junior year and ended up in Human Communication.  (Met some great peeps too, a shout out to, Rick and Audrey, to name a few).  Along the way through the theatre craziness, I found God along the way, rather, he rescued me.

So, after college, I ended up teaching preschool and babysitting.  A part of me thought I was settling for what life could give me and that my dreams would never come true so just do whatever do what you can and hope something comes on, just make do and try to have some fun.  Looking back, I think working with children affected my outlook on life because it forced me to care for someone else's needs besides my own and so therefore took away any selfish ambition and made me focus on a greater sense of purpose, one that outlasts mine.  Yeah, I remember everybody saying you are making a difference in these kids lives, but, really, those kids made an even bigger difference in mine.

Around that time, I wandered purposelessly into a cafe (but remember everything has a reason) and fell in love with my soul mate.  However, I didn't know he was my soul mate and neither did he (everybody else saw it though) until well after I had moved far far away and several years and years of prayers and heartbreak later....thankfully he took me back or something.

So, I ended up getting dragged back to California on the insisting of my parents who, basically, signed me up for a teaching program at Sonoma State but, remember everything works for good, right? So, I ended up back in my home state of California, where I got a teaching credential, went crazy, faced my demons, made to feel more shame for myself than what God would want of me from the cults, I mean, churches I belonged to, apologized for the wrongs I had done and got blamed for the things I hadn't done, was given pills instead of getting help with the core issues, felt like I was seen as a "Jezebel"...until I could take it no longer and fate, the great hand of God, brought me back where I belong, Oregon, Ashland, home.

As Dorothy says when she returns home from OZ, I say about Calfornia:

"I remember some of it wasn't very nice at all, but most of it was beautiful...But all the same, all I kept saying to everyone was, was I want to go home (to Ashland) and they sent me home..."

Right after I left Oregon, I started writing this play about my time at the cafe where I met my true love.  I had no idea why I was writing it but I was pulled by some compulsion to write it and write it and keep writing it.  My friends would laugh at me and make jokes about it.  But, I was driven.  I thought, I don't know, there is a story here and I got to write it....but what was the story, that I loved this man whose name I have attached to mine and whose ring is on my finger.  A few months before he came back into my life, I finished that play after 6 years of endlessly writing it, throwing it aside, picking it up, editting, writing....and then done.  It seems strange to think about it now, that I could be so driven to write...but hey, everything has its purpose in the end.  I got everything I hoped for and yet more than I could ever imagine, like, more than I could ask or think...and yet the exact answer to my prayers and heart's desire.  And, its funny, as many as these friends from the cult, wait, church advised me to stay away from the "non-christian world" and specifically this man, I couldn't help praying, and waiting...and wondering if I would ever love, when he, my husband, is the only one that can understand me when no one else, even those who claim to be my family in Christ doesn't...perhaps they don't even really understand love at all or even God, but that's not my place to say...who are so hung up by their intrepretation of the scripture, and yes I was there too, they miss the real meaning of Christ's love, and to that  I have found in my 'scary-dark boy"...so, maybe these friends of mine are right, maybe I sinned by sleeping with him before marriage (shh...don't tell), but, you know, it all worked out in the end and as the song goes...'what I did for love..."  (Honestly, being married to my Mr. Weston has taught me so much about God's love and faithfulness and commitment to him, my vows, other people than any bible study or lecture ever could...hmm, who knew?)

So, in effect, Bill coming back into my life and marrying me and me coming back to Ashland is a "dream", an answer to prayers...and yet so much more.  And, something that through thick and thin, Bill and I try to do is to pursue our dreams, to follow our paths, to do what we love...and trust that everything else will fall into place, and it has....with faith, diligence, prayer, love, commitment, in the face of all adversity, when all else seems to fail and everything seems at the brink of extinction...our love and our faith brings us through and provides over and abundantly more than we ever thought...So much of my life, I was told to walk the line, to follow somebody else's plan for my life, their purpose and their definition of success for my life, whether it be my father's or the self-imposed religiousity of a few "christians" i knew, who would stand around and talk about how all they wanted to do was "serve God"....but in how?  In all of that, I never gave up my desire for theatre and writing...and felt laughed at or looked down upon for even thinking of that or pushed into an area that didn't really fit for me but was somebody else's imposed direction for my life...

So, finally, as God opens doors, I go through them day by day, inch by inch with faith and hope for the best and trust...and I learn a few things about myself, God, and love.

A few years ago,  I decided that I was unable to work due to the necessity to get healthy and made the choice to go on disability.  The first thing I realized was "what is my purpose if not to work" and how to explain who I am without a job.  I actually experienced this in real life, when after introducing myself to someone,  they asked "so what do you do?"
And, in that moment, I had no idea what to say...so I began to think and came to the conclusion, as Amanda McKenney (a character in Working) says "Jobs aren't big enough for people", in effect, our job is not our identity.  And learned, as she puts it, "I am Julia, at certain points in time, I do things for a living."

Okay, after Amanda says her bit, and her SATAN boss comes in and talks about his VALUES, like 20 minutes or so later, I come on dressed as THE HOOKER and say "you become your job"  and the funny thing is, I, kind of, can see that now, but strangely in a positive way.

Like I was saying, Bill and I encourage each other to follow our dreams and our choice of paths, passions, desires, loves and so too I encourage my friends to do the same, and hopefully, they are as blessed as well.  But, even so, I still dont' want to define myself as a job, but lately, I have picked up several roles or positions and would willingly accept them as a title, because after all they are my choice, my passion, and will follow the roads they take me on as life goes alone...these hats I wear, roles I play are actress, writer, nanny, teacher, wife, kitty-mommy, friend, sister, aunt, so yes, when you look at in this light, you become your job....and for this, I am grateful.

I am also grateful for Bill and his love and friendship and for just being himself around me, and once again for the hangers-on.  I wouldn't be where I am without them, their encouragement, their patience, their love...to name a few,Frank Cristofer Montague , Woo Baby, Lee Lancaster, Tony Fleisher, and even for those that life directed us apart for a time but have brought us back together, such as Corky Gardner and Michelle Gray and, yes, John Cole

My advice to you, whether you be starting out in your adventure or on a new path, follow your dreams, your passions, your hearts...do what you love and the rest will follow, and remember as Nina says:

"Now I know, I understand, (Kostya), that in our work--acting or writing--what matters is not fame, not glory, not what I used to dream about, its how to endure, to bear my cross, and have faith.  I have faith and it all doesn't hurt me so much, and when I think of my calling I'm not afraid of life."

And remember, these three remain, faith, hope, and love...and the greatest of these is love.