“I find the whole idea of relevance irrelevant,” she said with a firm toss of her jet black bob before draining the contents of her martini.
And with that, all further conversation on the matter was ended.
Shaken, Not Stirred
Asides
A Child’s Wish
Like the last leaf in winter,
Sometimes I hang on too long.
If it is something good –
A relationship, a place, an experience,
A lipstick color, really great ice cream –
I want it in my life forever.
Afraid to leave behind the good I know,
To allow the change to change me,
I just don’t want to let go.
I don’t think I’m greedy,
I think I just love too tightly.
(When you’ve had things ripped away from you,
Maybe you tend to hold fast and hard.)
I’m working on a lighter grip,
A turning over, a letting go.
“If you love someone, set them free.”
I know you have to make space
For something new to come through.
Yet, still, I love who and what I love.
And in my heart of hearts,
I wish it could last forever.
So like a child, I let go begrudgingly.
I blink back the tears, await what comes next.
Pay It Forward
Commit yourself to a mighty purpose.
– H. Jackson Brown, Jr.
I was saved, in large part, by reading and acting.
Growing up, my friends, my hope, my pleasure, my education all came from what I watched and read. As this was before the internet, this meant books, magazines, television shows and movies.
I had friends, sure. And a family. But I didn’t trust most people, with good reason due to early trauma. So I turned to other resources for help. To what was available to me as a child: books and television.
Through them, I could enter into other worlds and become a part of them. This saved me from the intense loneliness I felt, the extreme “otherness.”
I have no doubt that were it not for books and movies, I would have descended into a kind of madness that might not have turned out so well.
Fortunately, I had a library and a television at my disposal. They brought me works that gave me hope that another life could be made for myself. They gave me company. They gave me connection.
Today, as I navigate my life as a performer and as a writer, I can think of no higher purpose for myself than to create work that can do the same for someone else.
I am on a never-ending quest to examine and understand both the light and the dark sides of human behavior. I’m drawn to works that explore and celebrate the human spirit. Stories of how people rise above the problems of life and the human condition to make change and follow their hearts. I have a soft spot for the seemingly ordinary moments and people in life: the underdog; the unsung heroes; the quiet, small moments that can sometimes hold a lifetime.
It’s my mission to collaborate deeply and bravely as an actor and singer with all of the people who make up a production, so that together we can create stories to inspire, educate, elicit, and evoke. To wake people up so that they may live life more fully and authentically and to embrace their lives.
I also volunteer as a reader with SAG-AFTRA Foundation’s BookPALS program. I read storybooks to kindergartners in hopes of sparking a lifelong relationship between children, reading and books that I hope will help them navigate the murkier waters of growing up, of life.
That is my mighty purpose. What is yours?
Fraud Alert
How do you sleep at night?
What of the lives your crimes affect?
Do they mean nothing to you?
I am a living, breathing person.
Your attempt to swindle me makes me physically sick.
Had you succeeded, I’d have lost more than money.
Dignity. Trust in basic human decency. A home. The feeling that I had some level of cyber-safety given all the measures I take.
You are slime.
I hope you are caught and punished.
I hope you are swindled out of something of true value to you so you know how it feels.
Are you even human?
Or are you just a crumb?
Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: crumb and a nefarious internet email hacking scam attempt on me yesterday. It was targeted and personal.
If you or someone you know has experienced an attempt at fraud, report it at the FBI Internet Crime Complaint Center.
Wallflower Heart
She waits in the shadows
Yearning to be seen
Afraid to be found lacking
Wearing her best, new, outfit
Hair curled, lips glossy peach
Rubs her lip against her braces
Her heart flutters as he walks by
Calls his name, a tentative whisper
The vibration of her voice
Floats off into the beating music
He doesn’t turn, doesn’t notice
Her hope sinks deep
Back to the well of loneliness
Where her heart lives
Amazing Grace
Why does great beauty make me weep?
The fully fanned-out plumage of a peacock
The rose bud with its petalled ring of fire
The blazing hues of a glorious sunset
A symphonic swell of Tchaikovsky or Bach
I am humbled by their magnificence
Some part of me feels small in comparison
Knows I can never measure up
I forget my own glory
There’s a blind spot in my heart
Or perhaps the tears are another part crying out
To remind me where I come from
Beach Day
First the shock, then I screamed
Sharp stings across my calves
Filled my chest with angry hurt
Blue water, friendly one moment,
Betraying my trust the next
You swept me up in your Goliath arms
Held my beating heart against yours
Pulled me to the safe crevices I knew as Daddy
I squeezed my eyes tight in fury
You asked to see where the hurt was
Rubbed and kissed it, swore at the fish
I think that’s the last happy memory I have of us
Wish I could go back in time
Into the crawlspace of your chest
And be just your daughter again
Status Quo
“Allow me to recreate myself,” she said to no one in particular.
Then she realized that as she had never really let anyone get to know the real her, how’d they even be able to tell the difference?
Somehow, this realization took most of the excitement out of the whole idea.
In the end, she decided she might as well stay herself.
That’s Amore
The first time I really fell in love was with a very talented chef.
We met each other just as the whole celebrity chef phenomenon was starting to really cook. He was just beginning to rise as some of the mega-star chefs of today such as Bobby Flay were just starting to blaze.
The restaurant world was abuzz then, and I was a small part of it. I was a server at the newly opened second restaurant of a long-time successful NYC 3-star chef. Being a perfectionist and a Betty-by-the-Book type, I was an excellent waitress and often asked to serve food critics and VIP fellow chefs.
One morning I went into the kitchen before service started and something felt different. Like some animal sense, the hairs on my arms stood up. My body vibrated. My back was to it, but I literally felt compelled to look over at the line.
There I saw the most incredible pair of hands at work. I was mesmerized for a moment. The way they touched the produce was so…intimate. So sensual.
My cheeks blushed with heat and as I looked up to see who belonged to those hands, my eyes met the sweetest almond-shaped hazel eyes.
It felt like I literally poured into him through his eyes. Time just sort of expanded and the moment felt like forever.
I gathered myself together, and just before I turned to go back out on the floor, my eyes found his lips, which had a sexy little smile dancing across their fullness.
That was it for me. My life changed course in those moments.
I fell hard that day. He had been brought in to the restaurant as sous chef, and our paths were to cross daily. I was involved with someone else at the time, though it was a dying relationship.
I literally fell under a kind of spell. I made some choices that I am not proud of today.
Chef and I began what would end up being an extremely important, passionate, ultimately heartbreaking (twice) relationship.
We were young, emotionally wounded, and both out of control and lost. But boy, did I love him.
It still makes my head swim to think of it. The story of us is epic and blog-worthy. But not today. I’m not quite ready.
When I tell you that he was the most talented of them all, of all the star chefs then and the star chefs-to-be (the ones who were behind the star chefs who have since risen to fame,) and maybe even of the current culinary stars, I am not exaggerating or talking from my entranced heart.
He was truly gifted. His food was the most flavorful, exquisitely layered food I have ever tasted, and I have had the pleasure of some incredible meals then and now.
A meal under his talents was a total body sensual experience and left you with an amazing high.
People became diehard fans, literally traveling across countries to follow him wherever he went.
Our relationship ended dramatically, not once but twice. My heart was totally shattered.
But I was gifted a love of fine dining that remains to this day.
Martyrdom
A thorny crown of my own making
Embedded in my righteous mind
I no longer feel the pain
You cut the wood, laid it at my feet
But the cross I bear I made myself
My tears became the stain
These things are woven into
The life and form I take today
Don’t know how to cut them out
Can I survive their extrication
Or am I Siamese with myself
Forever connected, inextricably devout
Beyond the Skinny Branches 