Category Archives: I Speak

They Are Everywhere …

and they have been here all along. Their names have survived … why not their stories ? We know them well and see them again and again.How about those three girls who were Friends living in NYC ?Columbine (Rachel), Constantia ( Monica ), and Vivetta ( Phoebe )Or those other four friends in Manhattan – Columbine ( Carrie), Fiorinetta ( Samantha ), Elenora ( Charlotte ), and Constantia ( Miranda )And Elenora has had a long career in film – as Sabrina, and a host of other Audrey Hepburn characters. Renee Zellweger seems to be Audrey’s successor to Elenora’s roles.And as soon as a part is conceived for Abrianna, the director calls Susan Sarandon first. Stepmom, that dancing movie, a host of her current roles.I was trying to think of Julia Robert’s roles and it seemed to me that she is like the female Clark Gable of current times – the character has a different name in every film but is still essentially the same girl. There wasn’t much difference between the best friend in My Best Friend’s Wedding or the Runaway Bride or when she was finally married and on the verge of splitting up in Something to Talk About.

¿Quien Soy, Yo Mismo?

Thinking about beginning performance work is completely anxiety wracking. There is a reason it is unusual for performers to also be set designers. It requires working in too many modes simultaneously, that I am having a hard time finding the mental time to deal with my performance issues.

Last night I promised myself that I would just finish this field project and if I was completely miserable the entire time so be it. It would then be over and if I did good enough work, but hated it totally anyway, that would be OK too. I have to be hating something I guess, and hating the Pulse program is displacement to a foolish degree, hating my husband is dangerous, and hating my dogs and cats is absolutely unfair.

I just don’t know who is going to the MardiGras – the busker portraying Columbine, me behind a mask pretending, or Columbine herself.

[¿Quien Soy, Yo Mismo? = who am I (myself) ]

Laissez Les Bon Temps Rouler

or perhaps I should say:
laissez le désastre nous découvrir

If opportunity for discovery exists in crisis, than I am well involved in a journey to a new world. I have anger for all the time I have spent in being such a perfect chaemeleon in the world. However, that was who I was, and perhaps for a long time it was necessary, and even right. However, once one begins to speak in their own voice, the chameleon loses her camouflage. And all the others are now forced to interact with the true color of her skin.

The problem is the chameleon doesn’t know how to be – if she can be any color or pattern in the world, which one IS she? If the particular spot in the forest of existence is no longer the determinant of the pattern of spots she adopts, what is? And how does one cope with being conspicuous?