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Friday, May 23, 2014

Every Three Weeks She Sees An Architect - New Song

Hey.

Why do I do this? Write songs. Scratch and scratch.
I'm not a musician. I'm a best a singer/songwriter.
I guess I use songs as anthems, as a way to solve problems, answer questions.
One question I've never been able to answer these past three is years is this: how to have a healthy, loving relationship in New York City.

And this song is a portrait of a friend of a friend. And me coming to terms with the cruelty and the beauty of this city and how maybe, just maybe, love might be waiting for me as well.

Here we go.


lyrics


first verse
this towns an abattoir vacation
people fall behind
like friar bartholomew called them
trees in winter
weekday morning a destination
to a client bound
running errands a helping hand
working for an acronym untangled
that doesnt quite respect

chorus
and every three weeks she sees an architect
every three weeks she sees an architect
every three weeks she sees an architect
and every three weeks she sees an architect
every three weeks she sees an architect
every three weeks she sees an architect

second verse
this towns a diet of expectation
wither by the year
said teju cole in jest its a palimpsest
she was an actress of dedication
in between the grind
but distractions often find
their own rapacious way to slay a dream
unto neglect

chorus

bridge
oh arent you so damn proud
youve written another song
only face youve seen todays
a delivery man
meanwhile in a sterile office complex
the architect hes pointing out his building
and she hides a yawn his favor she is gilding
she hides the fact she mispronounced his name
those first three months a liar
oh me and you were making do with second hand
desire

third verse
this town its public isolation
love however you can
quote myself for a spell
were only guests in this hotel
she bears no halting hestitation
heart is open and wide
and her friends and her lovers climb in
step inside
she burns with vigor
how i genuflect

chorus



Monday, April 28, 2014

What the #RunCM2014 Marathon Taught Me -

Hey.

So, some of you know that I'm an actor in New York City. One of my friends from college, Winnie Lok, started a theatre company with polymath Ryan McCurdy called  FACING PAGE PRODUCTIONS.  It's a way to create new theatrical experiences from classical works. I took part in their inaugural production of 2012's NO FEAR SHAKESPEARE'S RICHARD III.

The Company's Marathon was passed down to Ryan and Winnie from Gordy Hoffman, who had began it in 1996. The first NY iteration took place in 2013, and I was honored to be a part of it, and read a few roles.

But this year, I wanted to give more. Along with donating to the Marathon's Kickstarter, I chose to volunteer for two overnight shifts for the marathon, as well as schedule in more chances to read. And, with that, I tapped into far greater insights about the experience that I'd ever gleamed from a theatrical confluence.

So, what's the Company's Marathon?  Shortly put, it's a complete reading of all of Shakespeare's plays, one right after the other for a period of no more than 86 hours. The play order is chosen year to year; this year it was bestowed upon Kate Mulgrew, and I admired her choices. Romeo and Juliet for the start. Winter's Tale for the end. The Henry's in the dead of night, for the hard-core enthusiasts.  

Here's what I learned: about me, about Shakespeare, about my friends. Here's what the #RunCM2014 taught me:

 -Those first moments back feel like summer camp.  That hour before the first play is read, sipping drinks and making small talk with folks you remember reading with the year before. Meeting new people and discovering how they're connected with Winnie/Ryan/Rachel or just heard about the marathon.  People who just love Shakespeare. Feeling old crushes flame up again like carpet fibers striking up against your flinty little heart.  But you promised yourself the time for crushes in your life was over. So you chat up the boyfriend architect. Ask him about cycling uphill. Listen. Smile. Press your teeth into the meat of your cheek and breathe. You talk to the other crush, as she pushes up her glasses tightly against her forehead and smiles, just politely.

 -Sure, reading one play or two plays in a row is commendable, but you don't show your stuff, your deep empathic, passionate, somewhat insane choices until you're on the third play in a row and you're reading Two Gentlemen of Verona with three people who apparently have already done the show before, and it's thrilling, trying to match their rhythms and meet that same level of humor and attention.

- A play marathon is a beast you can never climb entirely.  I'd check tweets and get giddy at the thought of others tackling late night/early morning works and thinking: man, I'd love to work with them in the next few days, and then getting to do so.

 -Sometimes, you're a sentimental fool, Jones. You say you swear off crushes, but you ask for a phone number, are politely and correctly shut down, and you sleep until it stops hurting.  You're a thirty five year old man.  This is not your role. You should know this.

- A marathon does not oblige stalled or delayed trains. If it's just you and it's time to Julius Caesar, you read Julius Caesar by yourself.  So I did, for about thirty-five minutes.  Then, my Brutus and some others arrived and we had ourselves some fun.

- I am not special. I am one of a million voices in this city who makes things and speaks things. Some of these people get paid. Some get lauded. 

-By that same token, despite my deep issues with how I look, my own mental-esteem, this place, this world is exactly where I belong. 

-In the future, one should not simply bring a 16 oz bottle of coke, some water, and a can of pringles when one plans to read overnight for over 16 hours.

- Verse madness is a real thing. Ryan McCurdy and I felt it with Coriolanus. Especially while reading it as a two person play.  We started rapping at one point,. then playing Simon with dialect choices until Hannah Gold graciously stepped in to bring it to a three person affair.

- Making up Act songs for Gower for Pericles is the stuff of barking madness.  And I write songs.  

- The more I listen to and watch the Tempest, the more I hate it. It's just a broken, evil play. It almost makes more sense if it's the syphilitic hallucinations of King Lear just after Cordelia is hung but before everyone rushes in. 

- When I told you how my name is pronounced and you told me that you didn't know the architect's actual name until three months into your thing, you know I repeated the mnemonic. I want to be remembered.

- Maybe it was the fatigue, maybe it was the moment, maybe it was just how awesome the actor (Joe Raik) playing Edgar was( since we were doing this on our feet), but by the time he takes me( The Earl of Gloucester) to the cliffs to jump, I started to weep. Easily weep. Same with meeting up with Lear.  Just an unexpected series of moments.

-Laura Hill shook me awake with her beautiful approach to Cleopatra. I was honored to get to read with her.

- As Kris Pearce and his group took the stage to read Shrew, and as Winnie took an hour to sleep, I took my daily injection, swallowed a pill, sipped some water, and got to see the beginner's marathon mind all over again. It was infectious. The way people make the horn sounds when Alarums are indicated or stamp their feet as footsteps are noted. Or how people act whole pages opposite themselves.  It was glorious.

- I didn't know if I had it in me to pull off Winter's Tale, but somehow, I did King Leontes, the bear, The Shepherd, Autocyclus, and got to do with Rachel, Winnie, and at the end, Ryan. A perfect, fitting end.


Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Side Effects - First Draft of New Song

Hey.

Here's a super raw draft of a song which came to me after months of blunted, uncreative mucking about.

Since Feb, I took the plunge. Started seeing a therapist, who reminds me of a wise, quirky owl.  And a psychiatrist as well, who resembles a cranky manager with a heart of gold, but for my health.

And I'm back on drugs for the first time in five years. Still too soon to tell, but a wave's lifted for now. Laughter and being witty comes easier.  The heaviness is gone. It's really weird.

I know I have a super long way to go to rebuild and to exercise better self-care, self-love, self-respect. But the micro-steps I've been able to make through the endeavors below weren't things I could do six months ago.

And that is a small, wonderful thing.

So this song jumped out at me. Caught my mood and what I'm going through. Hope you like it. Please share it with others who are dealing with mental health issues. Or people who appreciate overly complicated ecclesiastical puns and shout outs to economic theory while discussing depression and anxiety. Or people who are mass assonance groupies, I guess. :)


first verse
the brain
how shrewd  such sublimation
attain
pharmaceutical restoration
the gain
countermeasured by the palpitations
im working through

see to feign
ive been steadys
been a desecration
saw my father die young
under self sedation
time to break it all down
bring the altercation
im primed
im ready for a prize
time to really wise

pre-chorus
up
im getting introspective
up
looking for a new objective
up
no longer marking time

chorus
side effects may vary
side effects may tear me apart
evolution is scary
reinvention is willing to start
writing maps for an old location
once deep in sorrow
im done with living in a stoic sadness
read the directions
breathe and swallow

second verse
the pain
hes a brother by association
opportunity cost
of my occupation
if i just kept running
throwing out creation
thought id power through

i was cain
pure and simple
with my ministration
how he whimpered to be heard
with each laceration
til the screaming  it stopped
and my own negation
made it clear
he never really dies
time to really wise

pre-chorus
up
im getting introspective
up
looking for a new objective
up
no longer marking time

chorus
side effects may vary
side effects may tear me apart
evolution is scary
reinvention is willing to start
writing maps for an old location
once deep in sorrow
im done with living in a stoic sadness
read the directions
breathe and swallow

bridge
this is not an indictment
this is a time
to forgive
i forgive myself
like a cloistered nun
my prior habits sheltered
kept me safe
like a warm embrace
but now theyre tattered
all a frayed
wont keep me dry
wondering what to wear
and why

reprise
the brain
how shrewd  such sublimation
attain
pharmaceutical restoration
the gain
countermeasured by the palpitations
im working through

chorus
side effects may vary
side effects may tear me apart
evolution is scary
reinvention is willing to start
writing maps for an old location
once deep in sorrow
im done with living in a stoic sadness
read the directions
breathe and swallow

side effects may vary
side effects may tear me apart
evolution is scary
reinvention is willing to start
writing maps for an old location
once deep in sorrow
im done with living in a stoic sadness
read the directions
read the directions
read the directions
breathe and swallow




Saturday, February 1, 2014

Three Years. This Life.

Hey.

I'll start off with the grim stuff first, because in a lot of ways, year three has been phenomenal (stick with me, there'll be joy and nonsense, I promise).

But the problem is this: the accomplishments, the things I make, the work I do, it's like white noise to me. Doesn't stick. I live with chronic mental illness and for five years now, I haven't done therapy or taken meds.
It leaves me feeling this weird combination of rampant anxiety and blunted depression.

Like my apartment's on fire, and I'm trying to get out, but I'm chained to a dead body.

I panic about death probably fifty times a day, and I'm forever convinced that I haven't done enough, haven't been successful enough. I need to keep working because I'm going to die. I'm going to die.  I am absolutely going to die. Dying without making a mark on this world would be a terrible waste, so says the air raid siren in my brain.

This life has to stop.

I hate it so much.

It's getting harder for me to control it. The lows feel more severe these past six months.

So, I'm taking action. I plan to start seeing a therapist this month. Actively use the therapy to grow, instead of my prior obstinate habits with therapy.  Explore meds if that seems like a viable option.

And I'm hoping that this big step makes the other issues in my life (low self-esteem, body issues, weight, etc) feel less insurmountable and I can finally garner some real change.

Ok. I've said my peace. Let's look at what I've done this year, what I've learned, and goals for year four:

WHAT I'VE DONE

Produced and Performed GHOST ON A STICK  -  Half the year was spent working on this project, and I am overwhelmed by the kind people who helped me make it a reality. It won an award, and I'd love to do an Off-Broadway run of it one day.


Wrote seven new songs - love songs, gifts for donors for GHOST ON A STICK, hobo songs.


Booked a new long term Off-Broadway show - PIGGY NATION: THE MUSICAL is a fervent joy. Probably the silliest thing I do all week. 


Co-Produced, wrote, and acted in a webseries pilot - It's called THE BODY HUNT, and we're looking for potential investors to make a full season.


AND


(this is a bit of a surprise)
(I'm serious)


As of noon, eastern standard time, Friday, January 31st 2014, I am now a member of SAG/AFTRA.

Wanted this for fifteen years. And now, it's a reality. In the eyes of the acting world, I am now seen as a professional.


WHAT I'VE LEARNED

This year was a deep, fanatical current of faith in my creative abilities. So many individuals helped me get these things above. Anything good I've done is through the efforts of a community of wonderful people.

 The modern world is a prison of self, and any efforts made to breach this solotrophism does me a powerful kindness.  I'm taking more steps to help others prosper, to volunteer in this community that's been a blessing to me.


Water does indeed pour out in a miasma of evil like the hotel elevator in THE SHINING when an upstairs neighbor's pipe bursts and destroys your entire bathroom ceiling.


I've gotten old enough to earn a bruise the size of a silver dollar on my palm just from sleeping.


If there's a diner, I'm eating club sandwiches.


I'm still the master at staring contests.




GOALS


1) Produce and perform my one man hobo musical - KING OF THE HOBOS. Sent a submission to FringeNYC, and waiting for word on that. If not, then I'll find a venue to workshop it, and go from there.


2)Continue to give more to my family, my friends, to this city, to my professional colleagues.


3)Exercise twice a week for thirty minutes.


4)Keep taking more career-minded classes, training, etc.


Thanks to the following people:
mi mama   
Jelina Seibert and Dave Seibert  
Jeric Jones and Stephanie Girard 
Bekki Doster 
Mark Kinch
Megan Jeannette Smith
Emily Travis
Glory Kadigan and the Planet Connections Theatre Festivity
All those who helped produce GHOST ON A STICK

Jenna Doolittle
The cast and crew of PIGGY NATION: THE MUSICAL
Tess Suchoff
Bobby Lux  
Kristen Penner
Lorelei Mackenzie  
Abigail Taylor-Sansom
Rockford Sansom
Vicki Oceguera  
Tod Engle 
Karen Lotko
Allison Kueberth

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

19 scenes. 9 weeks. Go.

Hey.

If I've learned anything in New York City, it's this: nothing ramps up your career like fully committing to produce and write your own work.  Here's why. Regardless of the quality of the project you're making, the universe has a wicked sense of humor. And, as you're in the thick of it, she'll hand you other huge endeavors just to see if you can pull them off as well.

That's just marvelous.

In 2014, here are the crazy artistic gambits I'd like to pull off:

 - workshop and produce my one man hobo musical (KING OF THE HOBOES -new title) and get investors to do an open-ended Equity Off-Broadway run.

- Perform a production of GREATER TUNA.(two actors playing dozens of characters)

- Find sponsorship to produce a full season of a webseries I wrote and produced (THE BODY HUNT)

-Get investors to produce an Off-Broadway run of GHOST ON A STICK.

- And finally, pertaining to the title of this post, write a complicated interactive play cycle based on the Black Plague (THIS GREAT MORTALITY)  They need a full script by March, with tentative plans to produce and perform it in Los Angeles in October.  Two one hour plays happening simultaneously, using just six actors. The lives of the rich and poor in Avignon, France just as the black plague takes hold.

Here we go....





Sunday, November 10, 2013

Tonight's Enough - First Draft of New Song

Hey.

By my count, I've got two months to write four first drafts of songs for the hobo musical.
No small feat.

Here's the newest one. It's a PG-13 version of Pretty .  A grown up approach to how a hobo on the road might find small pockets of love. Sad and sweet and all that.

lyrics

first verse
stepping off the boxcar at the edge of town
face dirty and my coveralls a ruddy brown
heading to the barber college
for a shave and a shine
looking fine
dressing up in my cleaner working clothes
skip the brothel cuz a gentle heart always knows
theres a lover out there waiting
for a little time

chorus
tonights enough if you just start living
put your worries away
let your senses play
tonights enough for a prince or a beggar
in the quickening dark
hold your breath see a spark
tonights enough to be loved by another love

second verse
see you staring bear a grin and you look away
i tell a joke have a smoke listen as you say
never seen a stranger take an interest
in this little plain jane
wild as rain
were holding hands aint it grand
whisper in your ear
you turn to kiss and its bliss
crickets stop and cheer
rising up you lead me onward
to a quiet room

chorus

bridge
only together for an evening
sunrise and ill soon be on my way
still were delighting in the evening
in the shadows face to face well find
we are beautiful

third verse
see a sliver of the sun through the windowpane
i smell your hair and prepare listen for a train
getting dressed i watch you sleeping
shut the door behind
feel my heart unwind
tell myself this is living as im getting by
in another days time she wont even cry
after all she could do much better
than a bo like me

chorus


Thursday, October 31, 2013

Mulligan Stew - First Draft of New Song

Hey.

This new song for the musical is super silly, but sweet.

In the hobo musical, Gilly is singing it to a puppet named Mortimer Montgomery (who's the stereotypical hobo, sooty-faced, bindle-wearing, etc)  Mortimer just spent the prior scene showing off all of the misconceptions about hobo culture and giving out bad advice in general.  Gilly uses this song to gently set him straight about what it means to be a hobo.

Here we go!

LYRICS

first verse

in the jungle evening descending
stirring up the embers intending
to brew
mul mulligan stew
get a can some water for boiling
bos will soon appear ripe for toiling
its true
mul mulligan stew
tween me and you
mul mulligan stew

chorus
meal of the moment
to stave off the torment
of life on the rails
its no other
sipping and smiling
with strangers beguiling
whove lived through the worst
sister brother

second verse

if youve got a carrot then share it
pinch of salt and bread go and tear it
to chew
with mulligan stew
pepper and potatoes for flavor
chicken in the mix breathe and savor
the hue
mul mulligan stew

chorus

third verse

staring at the moon washing dishes
only thing we own stock in wishes
we few
tasted mulligan stew
when a bo can give what theyre keeping
have it all combined see the reaping
ensue
thats mulligan stew
tween me and you
mul mulligan stew

chorus

mul mulligan stew