Saturday, October 23, 2010
The View From Where I'll Be
A new friend gave me a perfect book yesterday....listen to this from Eric Maisel's A Writer's San Francisco:
"I 'm American by birth but an urban writer by nature. My true homes are Paris, London,
New York, Tokyo, San Francisco, and the world's resonant cities. I am calmest in a Paris jostle a
Manhattan stampede and edgiest hiking a mountain trail or shopping at WalMart. Everything in
the universe may be equally spiritual but not equally congenial to a blue-state person like myself
with a horror of orthodoxy and of the grandiosity of ordinary people.
I need cafés, video stores that stock independent films, and bars where everyone is an
outsider....I need a place a full standard deviation above the mean....where, when a house
catches on fire, half the people who rush out to watch are Spanish-speaking ladies
and the other half are working - from - home lesbian graphic artists."
And there's a sentence or two in those first paragraphs about needing a place "with more knowing smiles than blank stares and more wry asides than hate-filled sermons"....but we can get to all that later, since I have a feeling this book given to me by my new friend Leslie will have a lot more I will wish to quote from, and let you all share. This book already speaks to my soul, and I am grateful for it. Thank you, Leslie....and for the Virginia - California mixtape as well....when was the last time you guys got a mixtape from a new friend? I feel , gratefully, like I'm back in high school, waiting for my future to begin with a new person I have a crush on, and the new person in this case is a new city: San Francisco, and my new friend Leslie is the high school pal who got us together and knows more than we do...which in this case is accurate, since she has lived in my new city love, and does indeed know more about it than I do! And she gave us a mixtape to play along the way!!! I mean, c'mon! How perfect is that?
She also loaned me my first Jeannette Walls book, and I am deep down into it already, and am at that stage where I resent having to do a matinee because it will get in the way of my reading this book! I can barely wait to get back to it later this afternoon and will probably be able to return it to Leslie on Monday! The 2011 Big Read I am trying to put into place before I leave ( so that my successor will have something to work with and put more firmly into place and succeed) is being built around our book of choice Great Tale and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe and the community theme is about creativity and mental illness: the fine line between the two. So we chose a writer who was plagued by mental health issues all his creative career, and Leslie is the new person at our local Library and she is being a tremendous help in getting these initial parts of the Read together with me. I am grateful for that, but am most grateful for a new friend that speaks so clearly to my sensibilities.
It's of course quite strange the way these things are falling into my path: a book by SF Chronicle writer Adair Lara practically falling into my hands at the local Barnes and Noble, that has resulted in my enrolling in my first SF writers workshop....a new person at our local Library who has lived in SF....(she could have landed at any other business in this town, but it's the Library of all places, where we were fated to meet, underscoring all sorts of themes lacing together the quilt of my imagined future there in that city...), but if there's one thing I've learned in my long life so far, it's to trust what naturally comes my way with ease and surprising resonance.
So, this new book, that has in its title two of my newest favorite words: "writer", and "San Francisco":
thank you, Leslie. It is sitting here on the table, pulsing with life, beckoning me to make a cup of coffee and snuggle down on the sofa with it, crack it's sweet pages and dive into the view it presents: the view from where I'll soon be living.
My heart is racing.
"I 'm American by birth but an urban writer by nature. My true homes are Paris, London,
New York, Tokyo, San Francisco, and the world's resonant cities. I am calmest in a Paris jostle a
Manhattan stampede and edgiest hiking a mountain trail or shopping at WalMart. Everything in
the universe may be equally spiritual but not equally congenial to a blue-state person like myself
with a horror of orthodoxy and of the grandiosity of ordinary people.
I need cafés, video stores that stock independent films, and bars where everyone is an
outsider....I need a place a full standard deviation above the mean....where, when a house
catches on fire, half the people who rush out to watch are Spanish-speaking ladies
and the other half are working - from - home lesbian graphic artists."
And there's a sentence or two in those first paragraphs about needing a place "with more knowing smiles than blank stares and more wry asides than hate-filled sermons"....but we can get to all that later, since I have a feeling this book given to me by my new friend Leslie will have a lot more I will wish to quote from, and let you all share. This book already speaks to my soul, and I am grateful for it. Thank you, Leslie....and for the Virginia - California mixtape as well....when was the last time you guys got a mixtape from a new friend? I feel , gratefully, like I'm back in high school, waiting for my future to begin with a new person I have a crush on, and the new person in this case is a new city: San Francisco, and my new friend Leslie is the high school pal who got us together and knows more than we do...which in this case is accurate, since she has lived in my new city love, and does indeed know more about it than I do! And she gave us a mixtape to play along the way!!! I mean, c'mon! How perfect is that?
She also loaned me my first Jeannette Walls book, and I am deep down into it already, and am at that stage where I resent having to do a matinee because it will get in the way of my reading this book! I can barely wait to get back to it later this afternoon and will probably be able to return it to Leslie on Monday! The 2011 Big Read I am trying to put into place before I leave ( so that my successor will have something to work with and put more firmly into place and succeed) is being built around our book of choice Great Tale and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe and the community theme is about creativity and mental illness: the fine line between the two. So we chose a writer who was plagued by mental health issues all his creative career, and Leslie is the new person at our local Library and she is being a tremendous help in getting these initial parts of the Read together with me. I am grateful for that, but am most grateful for a new friend that speaks so clearly to my sensibilities.
It's of course quite strange the way these things are falling into my path: a book by SF Chronicle writer Adair Lara practically falling into my hands at the local Barnes and Noble, that has resulted in my enrolling in my first SF writers workshop....a new person at our local Library who has lived in SF....(she could have landed at any other business in this town, but it's the Library of all places, where we were fated to meet, underscoring all sorts of themes lacing together the quilt of my imagined future there in that city...), but if there's one thing I've learned in my long life so far, it's to trust what naturally comes my way with ease and surprising resonance.
So, this new book, that has in its title two of my newest favorite words: "writer", and "San Francisco":
thank you, Leslie. It is sitting here on the table, pulsing with life, beckoning me to make a cup of coffee and snuggle down on the sofa with it, crack it's sweet pages and dive into the view it presents: the view from where I'll soon be living.
My heart is racing.
Labels: San Francisco, Writing
Friday, September 17, 2010
Writing the Future
"Fabulous, fresh early morning in this lovely town: cool, moist harbinger of a delicious Fall to come: all seems possible."
I'm quoting myself above - a post I put on FB yesterday morning...and it got such sweet response from people, all of whom complimented me on my way with words, my ability to describe...I mean, people are so very nice when it comes to my casual writing, and I really appreciate their comments, because I love to write , have written privately for so long, and am about to leap of the cliff of the "Familiar" out into the limitless space of the "Unknown" and writing is the very thing I want to be able to hang my hat on, so to speak...
I no longer care if I am identified as an actress or director anymore...not that I don't deeply appreciate all I've gone through to accomplish what I've accomplished through the years - I honestly am grateful for every bit of experience and success (and even the failures) that I've had...no ...don't misunderstand me: I love the life in the theatre that I've had...i honor it...and highly value every moment of it...i do NOT take it all for granted. Truly, I do not.
I am glad for it.
But, at my advanced age (!!) I understand now that life has so much more to it - has so much more for all of us - than the titles we assign ourselves early in our lives. When we are younger, it's important for us to be able to define who we are by a phrase, usually associated with what we do to earn money: "I am a lawyer"..."I am an architect"..."What I do is TV commercials"..I am what I do...etc...Much like beginning acting students who, early in their training seem to need a definitive technique, usually associated with some famous teacher or writer of acting texts, to tell them HOW to do it, HOW to become a good actor...and later they learn that to be a truly fine actor requires an open-ness to all techniques, a willingness to use whatever makes the building of the character they play fullest, most resonant, truest...we respond to what is needed.
ANd, the way I'm feeling now - with San Francisco looming on the horizon - is more open, willing and sensitive than I've ever been in my entire life, to what is needed...what will be called for...what will be asked of me in the service of fully expressing my self, my life in the service of improving this planet.
And if that means writing a book to tell about the true love of an odd family-so be it...if it means volunteering in a museum, or feeding the hungry...okay! If it means directing kids in a musical over in Berkeley, I'll do that...but if it means sitting by the side of the Pacific and doing nothing but think,inquire, analyze, meditate? THen I will somehow find the patience and endurance to let my self be still.
My problem has never been finding things to DO...my life has never wanted for "busy-ness". The real challenge for the coming time is learning how to be still, how to trust, and how to enjoy the stillness.
I'm practically joyous ( some days) with the anticipation of the fears I will feel...i almost welcome them as signs of growth and expansion into areas of my self-expression yet to be discovered.
What will be? Will definitely be. ANd my blood rushes at the very thought.
I'm quoting myself above - a post I put on FB yesterday morning...and it got such sweet response from people, all of whom complimented me on my way with words, my ability to describe...I mean, people are so very nice when it comes to my casual writing, and I really appreciate their comments, because I love to write , have written privately for so long, and am about to leap of the cliff of the "Familiar" out into the limitless space of the "Unknown" and writing is the very thing I want to be able to hang my hat on, so to speak...
I no longer care if I am identified as an actress or director anymore...not that I don't deeply appreciate all I've gone through to accomplish what I've accomplished through the years - I honestly am grateful for every bit of experience and success (and even the failures) that I've had...no ...don't misunderstand me: I love the life in the theatre that I've had...i honor it...and highly value every moment of it...i do NOT take it all for granted. Truly, I do not.
I am glad for it.
But, at my advanced age (!!) I understand now that life has so much more to it - has so much more for all of us - than the titles we assign ourselves early in our lives. When we are younger, it's important for us to be able to define who we are by a phrase, usually associated with what we do to earn money: "I am a lawyer"..."I am an architect"..."What I do is TV commercials"..I am what I do...etc...Much like beginning acting students who, early in their training seem to need a definitive technique, usually associated with some famous teacher or writer of acting texts, to tell them HOW to do it, HOW to become a good actor...and later they learn that to be a truly fine actor requires an open-ness to all techniques, a willingness to use whatever makes the building of the character they play fullest, most resonant, truest...we respond to what is needed.
ANd, the way I'm feeling now - with San Francisco looming on the horizon - is more open, willing and sensitive than I've ever been in my entire life, to what is needed...what will be called for...what will be asked of me in the service of fully expressing my self, my life in the service of improving this planet.
And if that means writing a book to tell about the true love of an odd family-so be it...if it means volunteering in a museum, or feeding the hungry...okay! If it means directing kids in a musical over in Berkeley, I'll do that...but if it means sitting by the side of the Pacific and doing nothing but think,inquire, analyze, meditate? THen I will somehow find the patience and endurance to let my self be still.
My problem has never been finding things to DO...my life has never wanted for "busy-ness". The real challenge for the coming time is learning how to be still, how to trust, and how to enjoy the stillness.
I'm practically joyous ( some days) with the anticipation of the fears I will feel...i almost welcome them as signs of growth and expansion into areas of my self-expression yet to be discovered.
What will be? Will definitely be. ANd my blood rushes at the very thought.
Labels: San Francisco, Writing
Sunday, September 05, 2010
Being an Employed Actor on a Gorgeous Summer Day
A sunny, clear, cool/warm late Summer day Abingdon, Virginia
Where Trouble Sleeps rehearsal - smack dab in the middle of Labor Day Weekend!
One thing that actors do – especially actors with careers that bring them employment, good fortune and steady salaries – is to spend most of their lives inside rehearsal halls, large, small, clean or dusty, rehearsing plays and musicals for imminent presentation to audiences, most of whom are outside in the glorious sunlight having fun…which actors happily convince themselves they are having as well… fun, I mean….but , for some time now, it has been clear to me that I would rather be outside in that glorious sunshine than be rehearsing anything! And that point has been driven home to me yet again today, as this sweet Labor Day Holiday Weekend has been intruded upon by this much-needed but nonetheless intrusive Where Trouble Sleeps rehearsal….it is so pretty outside today...so utterly beautiful.
It’s weird, really, because I enjoy the process of acting ,still, very much, and honor the process in myself and in others as much as I ever have …but, there is something strong inside me, telling me to pay attention to Life in other ways, to allow myself to journey deeper, down into the territory of my truer self, ask questions, explore new and challenging skills, be quiet, watch the world, be in it in ways that I’ve not had the ability to be in it before: it’s time for me to process and create in new ways….ways that have more to do with nature….sun…large water….trees…California! The Pacific Ocean!
SO – really, I don’t resent this rehearsal in the middle of the useful, productive weekend Peter and I have been having...but it has made me aware of what i would rather be doing soon with my life.
And so, the move to San Francisco! We can hardly wait.
Peter's last day of employment at the Barter is September 30th, after two weeks of helping his successor (whose name we have not been told...about whom we have been told nothing at all, really) understand where he has taken the Barter Marketing Department. He is pretty glad for that because he's so ready to move on to new adventures, as am I, and now that he has been told a final date (he told the Administration at Barter that we were leaving some 5 months ago!) he is excited about opening up the possibilities for his next area of professional involvement...he has so much he wants to do...and he is highly capable of doing so many wonderful things in so many various areas of human endeavor...i am excited for him.
My last day here at Barter is November 13th, the day that this play I am in right now closes. Along with that date, my many many duties as Outreach Director end as well....which I don't quite understand , but that is what was decided. And, of course, I am also ecstatic about that...I will have time to get things organized and sold and packed,etc so our move West can go well....but still, I wonder if all my Outreach/Education duties can possibly be communicated in the time period we'll have to the several people I am handing them over to!?! Well, i can only do the best I can do, right?
And, as ever, my many journeys to and from Barter Theatre are hard to predict, since my pattern vis a vis Barter has been to come back and forth from New York over the past 18 years...time and again...and the longest I have been able to stay (and now that Peter is in my life, make that a "we") is 3, maybe 4 years at a time...then we have to get back to an urban center, to be nourished ourselves by all the cultural institutions and concerts and stuff that this dear region simply does not have....it has so very much: beauty, special kinds of music, heart and mountain soul, good people, wonderful stories,et al.....but there's a certain sort of cultural "plug in" that both Peter and I need, and it's to do with a type of urban diversity that only larger cities contain....so, i hope I will be back to Barter, as I always have returned and adored returning...but we need to get West to that astonishing City by the Bay...and see what it has to offer us....it has so much.
Meanwhile, here we are, inside on a pretty day, as we continue to clarify and specify the needs of this lovely play that Catherine Bush has adapted from the charming Clyde Edgerton novel...it really has been terrific getting to know this author's writing, and I've already finished 3 of his novels, enjoying each one more than the last. He has an appealing sense of humor, wrapped in a slightly jaundiced view of a South he so clearly loves. So, while you're laughing at the quirks and quibbles of his very human characters, you are also siding with various points of view Edgerton presents: now on one side of the cultural argument, now on the other, and if at times you feel slightly schizophrenic, as your feelings and opinions shift, it's only because Edgerton writes characters that are deeply sympathetic, even as they are deeply foolish, and even hateful.
Is this the last play I will ever rehearse at Barter Theatre? I sincerely hope not. But , for now at least, Westward Ho the Wagons!
Labels: Barter Theatre, San Francisco
Friday, August 20, 2010
Buddhist Fog Horns
There they are again - ever faithful at 3:30 a.m. = my friends the fog horns. Like Tibetan monks, they intone warnings against unconsciousness and fear.
We watched the fog gobble up Berkeley yesterday - as if some odd horror movie menace, quietly, steadily was overtaking the light of the late afternoon...watched as the lovely hills of Berkeley thoroughly disappeared behind the gray dense velvety curtain of this thick moisture, and it seemed to dwarf us all....make us all insignificant and helpless against its inexorable mission to cover all in its path....it was creepy.
If I were living in one of those houses on the hillside, i would have experienced a curtain being drawn, shutting out all light. I would have had to turn on lamps. The bright late afternoon became quite other very quickly.
Peter and I spent al ong and interesting day over in the East Bay. FIrst , with Jennifer Boesing at the Youth Musical Theatre Company, then with Peter Damm, an East Bay real estate agent who showed us around Oakland, Berkeley and environs. I had him drop us off down on 4th Street, where i knew of some interesting stores Peter would love, and so he did: a wondrous pen and paper shop...then a place called Teance, where we sat for along time sampling teas from China and India. A lovely experience in a lovely and unique place. we were joined there by my dear old friend Barbara Damashek, and all three of dined on 4th Street at a Japanese fusion restaurant called O Chame (with an accent over the e)...we had warming bowls of soba noodle soup with various delicacies mixed in , and I topped my meal off with a bowl of delectable caramel balsamic gelato! A deeply satisfying meal. BY the time we got back to the BART station, the fog had begun to take over the world.
I am awake again, wondering how we will ever make this move. It all seems so overwhelming and insurmountable this morning...so much to get done...such a large life to pare down in order to fit into our first San Francisco home (wherever it may be)....so many things....we've gotten rid of a lot of stuff already, but there is so much more to get rid of, and so much to complete in other areas of our life as well. But, that's what change is all about, and I trust that Peter and I are up to it...because change us what we want. We are making these choices with full awareness and desire to make them, and we want to live in this wonderful city. Not New York, not Abingdon, but San Francisco. We want to live here.
So, this morning the fog horns are telling me; "Man up", Ev....get your courage on, and deal with it!
These particular early morning horns are warning me to avoid the obfuscating and encroaching fog generated by my fear of the unknown and trust that the light of day and personal courage are simply waiting beneath the thick surface of those fears.
I can do that. I can trust.
Today, we look at two more rental properties, and then spend the day at the Asian Art Museum...one of our very favorites. ....another reminder of why we are choosing to make this move: a fine museum.
Onward.
We watched the fog gobble up Berkeley yesterday - as if some odd horror movie menace, quietly, steadily was overtaking the light of the late afternoon...watched as the lovely hills of Berkeley thoroughly disappeared behind the gray dense velvety curtain of this thick moisture, and it seemed to dwarf us all....make us all insignificant and helpless against its inexorable mission to cover all in its path....it was creepy.
If I were living in one of those houses on the hillside, i would have experienced a curtain being drawn, shutting out all light. I would have had to turn on lamps. The bright late afternoon became quite other very quickly.
Peter and I spent al ong and interesting day over in the East Bay. FIrst , with Jennifer Boesing at the Youth Musical Theatre Company, then with Peter Damm, an East Bay real estate agent who showed us around Oakland, Berkeley and environs. I had him drop us off down on 4th Street, where i knew of some interesting stores Peter would love, and so he did: a wondrous pen and paper shop...then a place called Teance, where we sat for along time sampling teas from China and India. A lovely experience in a lovely and unique place. we were joined there by my dear old friend Barbara Damashek, and all three of dined on 4th Street at a Japanese fusion restaurant called O Chame (with an accent over the e)...we had warming bowls of soba noodle soup with various delicacies mixed in , and I topped my meal off with a bowl of delectable caramel balsamic gelato! A deeply satisfying meal. BY the time we got back to the BART station, the fog had begun to take over the world.
I am awake again, wondering how we will ever make this move. It all seems so overwhelming and insurmountable this morning...so much to get done...such a large life to pare down in order to fit into our first San Francisco home (wherever it may be)....so many things....we've gotten rid of a lot of stuff already, but there is so much more to get rid of, and so much to complete in other areas of our life as well. But, that's what change is all about, and I trust that Peter and I are up to it...because change us what we want. We are making these choices with full awareness and desire to make them, and we want to live in this wonderful city. Not New York, not Abingdon, but San Francisco. We want to live here.
So, this morning the fog horns are telling me; "Man up", Ev....get your courage on, and deal with it!
These particular early morning horns are warning me to avoid the obfuscating and encroaching fog generated by my fear of the unknown and trust that the light of day and personal courage are simply waiting beneath the thick surface of those fears.
I can do that. I can trust.
Today, we look at two more rental properties, and then spend the day at the Asian Art Museum...one of our very favorites. ....another reminder of why we are choosing to make this move: a fine museum.
Onward.
Labels: San Francisco
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Who AM I Anyway?
Am I my "lay-away"? (Sounding pretty Hamlisch-Kleban here)...am I the sum total of the THINGS I've purchased throughout my life? I am wide awake in SF, it being 5:30 on a foghorn-less morning, because worrying woke me.
We've spent the last two exhausting days looking at every rental unit we could gain entrance to here in SF city, and out of 6 or so we found 2 that might be okay for us as a first home here. We see Berkeley places tomorrow, and may even buzz over to Sausalito later in the week. After dinner with friends last night, we drove all the way up to the 2nd tallest peak in the CIty (Mt. Davidson) and visited the charming, utterly suburban community of MiraLoma, and I felt like we were in the Hollywood Hills! I expected a coyote to howl at any moment. It was lovely . ANd the entire CIty and Bay lay in front of us, from where our friend David's house sits. His house is charming as well.
BUT WOULD OUR BABY GRAND fit through the DOOR? And thus the theme of my insomnia: what do we do with all the stuff that has defined at least my life so far? What the HELL do we do with it?? Am I my STUFF? I fear, at this point, that to some degree, I have to answer "yes I am". This is slightly dismaying, but, somehow also gloriously true, since I have spent a lifetime collecting these particular objects, especially the larger ones, like the baby grand piano that I bought 30 years ago for a mere $5000.00 brand new, and would now cost more - considerably more.
Look, I want to rid our life of as much needless junk as possible. But what do we then do with the stuff that is not junk? How much do we keep , knowing that our 1st transitional San Francisco place will be relatively small, and unable to contain all we have winnowed away to? I guess storage units are the answer...but...well...this early morning, I am totally overwhelmed by the prospect of all that lies ahead for us to do to move even by February, when our Abingdon house lease is ending. I simply cannot see it happening...the light has yet to appear at the end of this tunnel, so i am tired from roaming around in the dark of the unknown. BUt, for now, there is no other way.
I keep expecting some magical real estate to show up and make it clear what we should do. Maybe in Berkeley it will appear...but then, we'd be committing to at least a year in the East Bay, and we have no idea if that is truly useful or not yet. SO again, more stumbling in the dark.
Today, we are escaping from the manic-depressive flywheel of activity driven by my need to see places, places, places....I am giving Peter the day off! Myself too....and maybe the entire rest of the week here, except we probably should go to Berkeley to see a thing or two...(see?: I am relentless!)...we are going down to the Embarcadero district to see a marvelous thing: the British 360 degree PETER PAN, under a tent, with all sorts of flying all over the place, and with our premium tix, we get a backstage tour as well, showing us how the magic of it all is created...though we've been told that it is quite the seriously acted PETER PAN, with lots of good actors and excellent flying acrobats from sf.....so, i do look forward to what i've heard is rather dark version of the Barry story...and it was the first thing Peter said he wanted to do here..so, we are doing it! And I will jot down not a single rental property number if I see one! I promise.
Seeing this PETER PAN will rejuvenate our flagging artistic spirits...and if we need to, we'll see something at a small theatre in Berkeley as well. Most theaters around here seem to take their summers off to rest and refurbish, but I'm sure we can find something to feed our souls, even if it's just a great Thai cafe or a seriously wonderful Asian fusion place.....the food here has yet to disappoint.
And, frankly, the Bay is enough theatre for me,right now...the fog, the sun, the gulls, the boats...the constantly changing moods created by all those things....Sitting at an early morning table by the windows at Greens is one of my favorite seats in the entire City, and its only curtain when darkness falls, and even then, it's dynamic and interesting.
So - I need to get all this moving nonsense settled...i need to know we have a home here...and that i can get on with the important things...like a daily communing with that Bay...and the gulls, who I would like to begin naming and making personal friends of....yeah, I know: I will be a San Francisco bag lady in no time...and maybe THaT is the answer to my issues of personal property! Hmmm...nah! No way can a baby grand fit into a shopping cart.
xxev
We've spent the last two exhausting days looking at every rental unit we could gain entrance to here in SF city, and out of 6 or so we found 2 that might be okay for us as a first home here. We see Berkeley places tomorrow, and may even buzz over to Sausalito later in the week. After dinner with friends last night, we drove all the way up to the 2nd tallest peak in the CIty (Mt. Davidson) and visited the charming, utterly suburban community of MiraLoma, and I felt like we were in the Hollywood Hills! I expected a coyote to howl at any moment. It was lovely . ANd the entire CIty and Bay lay in front of us, from where our friend David's house sits. His house is charming as well.
BUT WOULD OUR BABY GRAND fit through the DOOR? And thus the theme of my insomnia: what do we do with all the stuff that has defined at least my life so far? What the HELL do we do with it?? Am I my STUFF? I fear, at this point, that to some degree, I have to answer "yes I am". This is slightly dismaying, but, somehow also gloriously true, since I have spent a lifetime collecting these particular objects, especially the larger ones, like the baby grand piano that I bought 30 years ago for a mere $5000.00 brand new, and would now cost more - considerably more.
Look, I want to rid our life of as much needless junk as possible. But what do we then do with the stuff that is not junk? How much do we keep , knowing that our 1st transitional San Francisco place will be relatively small, and unable to contain all we have winnowed away to? I guess storage units are the answer...but...well...this early morning, I am totally overwhelmed by the prospect of all that lies ahead for us to do to move even by February, when our Abingdon house lease is ending. I simply cannot see it happening...the light has yet to appear at the end of this tunnel, so i am tired from roaming around in the dark of the unknown. BUt, for now, there is no other way.
I keep expecting some magical real estate to show up and make it clear what we should do. Maybe in Berkeley it will appear...but then, we'd be committing to at least a year in the East Bay, and we have no idea if that is truly useful or not yet. SO again, more stumbling in the dark.
Today, we are escaping from the manic-depressive flywheel of activity driven by my need to see places, places, places....I am giving Peter the day off! Myself too....and maybe the entire rest of the week here, except we probably should go to Berkeley to see a thing or two...(see?: I am relentless!)...we are going down to the Embarcadero district to see a marvelous thing: the British 360 degree PETER PAN, under a tent, with all sorts of flying all over the place, and with our premium tix, we get a backstage tour as well, showing us how the magic of it all is created...though we've been told that it is quite the seriously acted PETER PAN, with lots of good actors and excellent flying acrobats from sf.....so, i do look forward to what i've heard is rather dark version of the Barry story...and it was the first thing Peter said he wanted to do here..so, we are doing it! And I will jot down not a single rental property number if I see one! I promise.
Seeing this PETER PAN will rejuvenate our flagging artistic spirits...and if we need to, we'll see something at a small theatre in Berkeley as well. Most theaters around here seem to take their summers off to rest and refurbish, but I'm sure we can find something to feed our souls, even if it's just a great Thai cafe or a seriously wonderful Asian fusion place.....the food here has yet to disappoint.
And, frankly, the Bay is enough theatre for me,right now...the fog, the sun, the gulls, the boats...the constantly changing moods created by all those things....Sitting at an early morning table by the windows at Greens is one of my favorite seats in the entire City, and its only curtain when darkness falls, and even then, it's dynamic and interesting.
So - I need to get all this moving nonsense settled...i need to know we have a home here...and that i can get on with the important things...like a daily communing with that Bay...and the gulls, who I would like to begin naming and making personal friends of....yeah, I know: I will be a San Francisco bag lady in no time...and maybe THaT is the answer to my issues of personal property! Hmmm...nah! No way can a baby grand fit into a shopping cart.
xxev
Labels: San Francisco
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Enchantment
Yes, indeed...it's 3:00 a,m, here on the Left Coast - and all is silent as a soft tomb, except for the mournful sounds of the fog horns off San Francisco Bay.
The night is dark, and I am awake in the warm glow of this living room lamp, listening. It's like hearing some sort of primitive animal ritual, and i imagine large - very large - prehistoric creatures that have come alive in the dark cloak of foggy night to meet and greet one another.
I don't remember when I have been this happy.
Though I am comfortable under this deep russet blanket knitted lovingly by Paul, a part of me wants to put on a warm sweater and three shawls and walk out into the feline black of Pierce Street, down to the Bay - only several blocks away - and commune with the creatures whose low voices I am hearing: they seem to be calling to me to come play. A most beautiful sound....punctuated by an occasional antiphony of higher-voiced horns replying to the resonant insistence of the larger horns: they seem to court one another.
I think about the boats and various crafts these fog horns are meant to guide, and I wonder who pilots them: Are these mythic water folks, cradling cups of hot coffee between cold hands, sleepily going about their daily work keeping the coastline supplied with various goods? Are the tips of their noses cold and wet, like human sea dogs? Have they had breakfast yet, and when they do, who cooks it for them? A crusty old bay dog of a boat chef, with a cigarette dangling from his mouth? Are they bundled against the chill wet morning? Did they ever want to do other things with their lives? Or are they so in love with the early morning horns that they have devoted their lives to them for eternity? As I sit hear listening to the ghostly concert of horn against horn, i can see how devotion could develop, and how a life lived in the fog could appeal.
Peter and i are on a week's break from the rigors of Barter, where the Summer season is coming to a close. We are scouting places to live here in San Francisco , since we will sooner than later be moving here, and we will be starting a new chapter of true adventure: a new city, new past-times, paid and otherwise....new selves, you might say. And we are both tremendously excited about it all. At my age, it's stunning to contemplate this shift, this seismic change from one coast to the other, but it's a contemplation long in coming: we have wanted to move to this fabulous city ever since we first came here together some 5 years ago to celebrate Paul's birthday....and now, after moving from NYC, spending several years back at Barter, we are finally making this move. This week is about finding out how we can do it with a bit more ease.
And i want to write. Here in San Francisco, I will be a writer, and even as I type those words - I want to write - I wonder how many countless people have written the same, as they have moved to this brilliant town. How many others have wakened to the sounds of these fog horns at 3:00 a.m. and rhapsodized in this way, inspired by their need to express themselves? Which leads me to believe this:
I shall now consider these after-hours fog horns as my official MUSES! So rather than envisioning them as enormous Tyrannosaurus Rex-like monsters, I now see them as large gorgeous women, draped in foggy splendor, singing out to me in their deepest richest alto and contralto voices, intoning to me "Come out here and be our free-est, feel your deepest, write your best! Let us guide you through the fog-drenched nights of your very soul, and trust us to get you where you need to go!"
Each gorgeous dame is draped in long flowing wraps of whispy, yet substantial white fog, some of it grey and some of it tipped in 3:00 a.m. inky blackness, like tips of ermine on a monarch's robe, and as they open their ghostly mouths to speak, out of each "O" comes these aching tones of desire, which always seem to end in a question: "Do you hear me?" " Do you follow?" - And even as I sit in this cozy 3:48 a.m. living room, securely fastened to my blanket and chair, follow them I most certainly do.
The night is dark, and I am awake in the warm glow of this living room lamp, listening. It's like hearing some sort of primitive animal ritual, and i imagine large - very large - prehistoric creatures that have come alive in the dark cloak of foggy night to meet and greet one another.
I don't remember when I have been this happy.
Though I am comfortable under this deep russet blanket knitted lovingly by Paul, a part of me wants to put on a warm sweater and three shawls and walk out into the feline black of Pierce Street, down to the Bay - only several blocks away - and commune with the creatures whose low voices I am hearing: they seem to be calling to me to come play. A most beautiful sound....punctuated by an occasional antiphony of higher-voiced horns replying to the resonant insistence of the larger horns: they seem to court one another.
I think about the boats and various crafts these fog horns are meant to guide, and I wonder who pilots them: Are these mythic water folks, cradling cups of hot coffee between cold hands, sleepily going about their daily work keeping the coastline supplied with various goods? Are the tips of their noses cold and wet, like human sea dogs? Have they had breakfast yet, and when they do, who cooks it for them? A crusty old bay dog of a boat chef, with a cigarette dangling from his mouth? Are they bundled against the chill wet morning? Did they ever want to do other things with their lives? Or are they so in love with the early morning horns that they have devoted their lives to them for eternity? As I sit hear listening to the ghostly concert of horn against horn, i can see how devotion could develop, and how a life lived in the fog could appeal.
Peter and i are on a week's break from the rigors of Barter, where the Summer season is coming to a close. We are scouting places to live here in San Francisco , since we will sooner than later be moving here, and we will be starting a new chapter of true adventure: a new city, new past-times, paid and otherwise....new selves, you might say. And we are both tremendously excited about it all. At my age, it's stunning to contemplate this shift, this seismic change from one coast to the other, but it's a contemplation long in coming: we have wanted to move to this fabulous city ever since we first came here together some 5 years ago to celebrate Paul's birthday....and now, after moving from NYC, spending several years back at Barter, we are finally making this move. This week is about finding out how we can do it with a bit more ease.
And i want to write. Here in San Francisco, I will be a writer, and even as I type those words - I want to write - I wonder how many countless people have written the same, as they have moved to this brilliant town. How many others have wakened to the sounds of these fog horns at 3:00 a.m. and rhapsodized in this way, inspired by their need to express themselves? Which leads me to believe this:
I shall now consider these after-hours fog horns as my official MUSES! So rather than envisioning them as enormous Tyrannosaurus Rex-like monsters, I now see them as large gorgeous women, draped in foggy splendor, singing out to me in their deepest richest alto and contralto voices, intoning to me "Come out here and be our free-est, feel your deepest, write your best! Let us guide you through the fog-drenched nights of your very soul, and trust us to get you where you need to go!"
Each gorgeous dame is draped in long flowing wraps of whispy, yet substantial white fog, some of it grey and some of it tipped in 3:00 a.m. inky blackness, like tips of ermine on a monarch's robe, and as they open their ghostly mouths to speak, out of each "O" comes these aching tones of desire, which always seem to end in a question: "Do you hear me?" " Do you follow?" - And even as I sit in this cozy 3:48 a.m. living room, securely fastened to my blanket and chair, follow them I most certainly do.
Labels: San Francisco
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Gay Pride Weekend in San Francisco!
At my advanced age, i think i understand many phobias and hates (at least i think I do to some degree), but the one i still have trouble getting clear on is "homophobia".
I simply don't understand how being gay is a threat to anyone who is not gay.
The fear we all should share is the fear of men and women hating each other so much that they go to war to kill or oppress others. But instead of fearing that, hating that, we seem to heartily embrace and celebrate it, and that sort of topsy-turvy behavior (hating when we should clearly be loving instead) bewilders me,and of course makes me very sad. Doesn't it make you sad too?
For reasons beyond my understanding, people HATE homosexuals. Even the people who espouse religions of Love find written "proof" to support their hatred, and the people who say Life matters get so rabid on the topic of homosexuality that they urge killing! I mean , where does this hatred get its power?
Is it fear of extinction? If too many men and women fall in love with each other, then no babies will be born and our species will die out? Well..come on...look around: no danger of that! Too many people having too many babies already are a more real threat to our survival on this planet than any number of gay men and women caring for each other, living together and choosing just the right curtains to go with that sofa!
SO WHAT"s the DEAL???
Where is this hatred coming from, truly?
I've an old pal who once told me that she believed that gay men and women were the most advanced souls on this planet, and that they know more about genuine love than the rest of us, and should therefore be revered as the prophets of our time: living together in peace and loving harmony matters more than having babies....sharing love means more than anything else. Sure, there's plenty of room for plenty of babies, but we must hold dear the men and women who choose not to have them, since there are so many other ways to support a healthy planet than to populate it.
Meanwhile, this weekend is Gay Pride Weekend in San Francisco, and two of our dearest and closest "family" are there to celebrate it. Both Peter and I wish we were there with them right now, but we will be this time next year, and I will remember sitting on this lovely sofa in Abingdon, watching the birds from a cool living room, writing this blog entry: we've a life to pack up, but we will be in San Francisco sooner than later!
Buried in this blog entry of bewilderment, is my quiet announcement that Peter and I will be leaving Abingdon at the end of this 2010 Barter Season, and moving our family and household to the CIty By The Bay! It's been our goal ever since leaving Manhattan 3 years ago, to get to the West Coast, but we truly wanted to spend more time at our beloved Barter before we made the final 'schlepp' out West, and so we have given Barter these several years and have loved it here, as we always do. But, it's time to move on, and get those West Coast dreams started!
I feel okay about letting this news out in my blog since other more official announcements have already been made to the important people at Barter and in the community, and Peter and I have had the chance to give this news to our dearest and closest friends here. No one is happy we are leaving but all seem happy that we are doing what makes us happy. And I can say the same: I am not happy about leaving here - i love it so very much for so many reasons - but I am also ecstatic about setting up our San Francisco life and getting started on making so many dreams a reality , including writing a book or two. Wouldn't it be awful if I was NOT sad about leaving here? It's better to love someplace so much that leaving it is a sad thing....which is not to say that that sadness cannot co-exist with a thrilling happiness at what is coming next....a full life is filled with such conflicting emotions, and like a powerful evening in the theatre - where one laughs and cries at the same moment in watching a good play - a good life must contain these strong contradictory emotional times! I treasure them.
MEANWHILE: we want to get rid of so much before we move next February! So, if anyone wants to buy a dining room set, a roll-top desk, lamps, side tables, artwork, objets d'arte, kitchen appliances,etc...let me know! The Baron-Yonka Store is open for business!
We will move to San Francisco with our baby grand piano and our king-sized mattress, our leather sofa and comfy arm chair, and some sheets, towels, plates and clothing! Hi-Ho, the freedom of moving on!
More soon...once again, I feel the urge to write coming back into my life and all I can say about that is YAY!
I simply don't understand how being gay is a threat to anyone who is not gay.
The fear we all should share is the fear of men and women hating each other so much that they go to war to kill or oppress others. But instead of fearing that, hating that, we seem to heartily embrace and celebrate it, and that sort of topsy-turvy behavior (hating when we should clearly be loving instead) bewilders me,and of course makes me very sad. Doesn't it make you sad too?
For reasons beyond my understanding, people HATE homosexuals. Even the people who espouse religions of Love find written "proof" to support their hatred, and the people who say Life matters get so rabid on the topic of homosexuality that they urge killing! I mean , where does this hatred get its power?
Is it fear of extinction? If too many men and women fall in love with each other, then no babies will be born and our species will die out? Well..come on...look around: no danger of that! Too many people having too many babies already are a more real threat to our survival on this planet than any number of gay men and women caring for each other, living together and choosing just the right curtains to go with that sofa!
SO WHAT"s the DEAL???
Where is this hatred coming from, truly?
I've an old pal who once told me that she believed that gay men and women were the most advanced souls on this planet, and that they know more about genuine love than the rest of us, and should therefore be revered as the prophets of our time: living together in peace and loving harmony matters more than having babies....sharing love means more than anything else. Sure, there's plenty of room for plenty of babies, but we must hold dear the men and women who choose not to have them, since there are so many other ways to support a healthy planet than to populate it.
Meanwhile, this weekend is Gay Pride Weekend in San Francisco, and two of our dearest and closest "family" are there to celebrate it. Both Peter and I wish we were there with them right now, but we will be this time next year, and I will remember sitting on this lovely sofa in Abingdon, watching the birds from a cool living room, writing this blog entry: we've a life to pack up, but we will be in San Francisco sooner than later!
Buried in this blog entry of bewilderment, is my quiet announcement that Peter and I will be leaving Abingdon at the end of this 2010 Barter Season, and moving our family and household to the CIty By The Bay! It's been our goal ever since leaving Manhattan 3 years ago, to get to the West Coast, but we truly wanted to spend more time at our beloved Barter before we made the final 'schlepp' out West, and so we have given Barter these several years and have loved it here, as we always do. But, it's time to move on, and get those West Coast dreams started!
I feel okay about letting this news out in my blog since other more official announcements have already been made to the important people at Barter and in the community, and Peter and I have had the chance to give this news to our dearest and closest friends here. No one is happy we are leaving but all seem happy that we are doing what makes us happy. And I can say the same: I am not happy about leaving here - i love it so very much for so many reasons - but I am also ecstatic about setting up our San Francisco life and getting started on making so many dreams a reality , including writing a book or two. Wouldn't it be awful if I was NOT sad about leaving here? It's better to love someplace so much that leaving it is a sad thing....which is not to say that that sadness cannot co-exist with a thrilling happiness at what is coming next....a full life is filled with such conflicting emotions, and like a powerful evening in the theatre - where one laughs and cries at the same moment in watching a good play - a good life must contain these strong contradictory emotional times! I treasure them.
MEANWHILE: we want to get rid of so much before we move next February! So, if anyone wants to buy a dining room set, a roll-top desk, lamps, side tables, artwork, objets d'arte, kitchen appliances,etc...let me know! The Baron-Yonka Store is open for business!
We will move to San Francisco with our baby grand piano and our king-sized mattress, our leather sofa and comfy arm chair, and some sheets, towels, plates and clothing! Hi-Ho, the freedom of moving on!
More soon...once again, I feel the urge to write coming back into my life and all I can say about that is YAY!
Labels: San Francisco
