Tomorrow morning at 6am., I have to turn around and drive to Richfield, Utah, to face another government agency about me hitting a deer, (which I reported for my insurance company) to the tune of two tickets for not having the information on my person. Ridiculous highway patrol claptrap, no one in law enforcement believes anything you say anymore... and then, with a day of preparation, I will drive to San Francisco for my two weeks of shows, and, I admit, a little bit of tension. LA is one city to do theatre in, San Francisco is quite another, I'll have to prepare myself with some gusto to pull off these shows, but there is definitely a 'buzz' on the show. The San Francisco Guardian has been asking me questions for a couple of days to do a 'preview' article on the show, which really puts the 'pressure' on. I love 'real' journalists though, the ones that get 'all' the information, even if the article is short. This journalist was very thorough, preparing ten really tough questions for me to answer. It was refreshing, causing me to dig deep about what I was taking to that city. I'm definitely feeling the apprehension of 'the road' and this bohemian lifestyle. I think I mentioned that I was driving around using a cup full of dimes and nickels to pay for things, (my quarters where gone), but those of you who know what that's like will understand. Feast or famine. Luckily, my patron saint came through, (just tonight), with another grant to 'get me on the road'. Yesterday, I called Kurt in NYC to tell him of my plight, and ironically, he let me hear the sound of the change in his sock, which he was taking to the grocery store for some 'survival' food. Although he just sold a book with a fifty thousand dollar budget, he was scrambling until the check arrived. I LOVE these stories. Friends, patrons, and family, if you are going to 'stay the course' and be an artist, you must adhere to this lifestyle, and the 'adventure' ensues. I read in the LA Times the story of Samuel Beckett, who edited the final 'gallies' for 'Finnian's Wake' by James Joyce for a hundred pounds and three used ties so that he could survive. It doesn't change, but you know what? I'm amazed at the cognizant understanding of a community to come through for an artist at the 'final hour'. Stay the course, you with 'marrow in your bones', you with the mandate to create, to fall, only to rise again. And remember, "An artist life is the best weight loss program out there, keep a bag of pinto beans in your cupboard for the lean times..."
So, here I go, back again to the coast of California, where I spent some time as a young playwright, wandering the redwoods, living in a residency hotel in San Rafael, and once again, living as though I had nothing to lose. Then, of course, I had youth on my side, but now I have the experience of a 'life lived', and really, I know that if I died tonight, I have 'really' lived! I have experienced the pain of each crossroad, watched the lightning as it struck the tree to my left, I have taken the road with the thorns on the ground, and I have lived life with a 'view for today'. I live each day fearless, even when my body is wracked with pain. Today, I watched the moon rise from the mountains, with a lightning storm at its feet, today, I am alive... put that in your book!
And to DB, whose life is full of so much inspiration, I am listening to you, my friend, and I feel your spirit, your words are wings on my 'one pair of shoes', I so appreciate your comments, so appreciate your struggle, and so appreciate your life. I am continuing to carry the torch of 'the actor', and look forward to your encouraging words. "don't let the bastards get to you," you are a worthy artist, I can feel it with each of your memories". And remember, memories are not just days gone by, to me, they live as though they are happening now, stay the course and be strong.
To others, (especially my mother, and my aunts), you have taught me the strength of 'a character', and I so appreciate your support and words... I was never that talented in what I do, but in the end, I will say that I made a commitment to this kind of life and I stuck with it, because you said things that 'made a difference'. As you can probably see by now, I am in a zone of acceptance, this is what I am, and I am content, even though there is no change left in the cups...
"my god, my god, poverty takes so much time, I'd rather be painting..."