My dearest daughter muse gave me the finest compliment I have ever received in my life the other day by comparing me to a near perfect woman (oh for gawd's sake!! of course from television!), but that's OK-I'll take her generous words and walk with them. Perhaps stride is a better word. I can feel the earth turning beneath me as even at this age defying birthday I am still me. Unashamedly now as I have been practicing anything but self-abuse for the past several months, finding joy in the smallest of moments and mistakes and midnight reading sessions that last until the stars have grown cold and even the birds are asleep. You know those nights. And most, most, MOST importantly of all-holding on to curiosity, looking up new words, finding the love of my entire adult life in the form of a writer I had somehow missed, reading everything I can get my hands on, listening to speakers I am lucky enough to find, and smiling and learning . . . just, damnit!, smiling and learning. If there is one thing this laboring at the salt mine has taught me, these OH MY GAWD the show is opening in two days drama filled breakdown moments time after time again, the actors who behead me in the midst of their own desire for perfection and fear of failure, the sheer incomprehensible immensity of all of it- the human drama, the animal agony, the bee deaths and children at our borders, disappearing water and all the scrambling for rent, for recognition, for respect, the great mash-up of past destruction and intolerance, present day challenges and stresses, and future imaginings and worries-all of it, all of it has taught me that being here, just to be here, and being me, just to be me-is the very best thing of all and trumps all of the regret and remorse, heartbreak and despair, depression and confusion. The dog above is the newest one in my pack. You remember him from my last post. He is an altogether perfect example of the power of love. From the arms of an angel who rescued him, to almost a year in the House of Dogs, he went from barely able to breathe past his fear of living to well . . . look at him! If there was ever a dog who has found his place, it's lil bro.
Storming the bastille has to be my most favorite thing to do. I love to work so hard I fall into bed exhausted-move over dogs!-and sleep solidly all the way through. I love to walk for miles and miles and miles and just witness. Today I am one with France and one with the Bastille and one with the Revolution. Today the clouds came and stayed with us awhile, the sidewalks remembered rain for a moment or two-those drops, that wet concrete smell. Dusk is darkening now and I am looking forward to a complete and total storming of three weeks nonstop work-from Looped to Carmen to back again. And here is where those productions take me-to Tallulah Bankhead and Lifeboat and Hitchcock, and our leading lady and Pee Wee Herman and Carnivale, and Carmen and The Tempest and stage and costume designs from everywhere and music and images from everything-fabulous, fantastic, and the hardest work I have ever done-split second timing, nerves like firework explosions, discussions that never end, decisions made without reality in mind, personalities worn like badges, and feelings and emotions on display lit by neon-the theatre is heady stuff, and it is mine, baby mine-for the next little bit. Good thing I wear Joan around my neck. Off to storm the Bastille. Me and France! Me and France! Oh. And that darling one on the steps above? Someone who kept up with me as we covered the entire island of Manhattan-I swear-we never stopped moving! The BEST TIME EVER.
And catching my breath on this birthday of all birthdays . . .it has been quite a year. Still mourning my Queensland. Death of my father. Work and pain sometimes too intertwined. Still no vast fortune, future security, ship in the harbor, or direction or purpose clearly defined, but wait . . . wait just a moment. This photo above is titled "What We Have" and I know that is my greatest lesson from my past year on planet Earth. True, I had my share of unhappiness and disappointment, but SOMEHOW I got to the other side of the crossing. SOMEHOW I have begun to understand that I have ALL ANYONE COULD EVER, EVER WANT. And I have much, much more than many in this lifetime. I have my beloved children-lights of my life, I am the Mother of Dogs, and I have you-my friends who stood by as I whined and complained and begged for someone ANYONE to turn the goddamned hall light on-hear me out-bail the water from my sinking ship-and basically and most importantly, love me and like me for who I am. I have learned the power of getting the fuck away from bad people, bad relationships, bad situations, and bad work. I have learned how to ask for what I need to survive. And the rewards have been life changing. Phone calls from so many, texts from so many, a long visit from my dear best of all friends, a delivered cake from the two most darling of friends, and let's just go with WOW. WOW. Thank you for supporting me and loving me and being my friends. I think you ARE the somehow!!! Ah good gawd I love my birthday. I love the 14th. VIVA LA VIDA.
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