whole wheat toast + chevre + scallions + salt + soft boiled eggs + Everything But the Bagel Seasoning = yum, a lil brekkie luxury, and keeping you full until lunchy.
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Thank you for breathing, for feet that feel the floor,
For the register I stub my toe on that sends
Warm air into the kitchen this morning. More
Than that, thank you for a brain that blends
Appreciation for a pink cotton t-shirt
With a grateful hum for the heat and taste in my old
Coffee mug. My cold toes assert
Their gratitude for thick socks rolled
Up and available in my bedroom drawer,
And the cluttered filing cabinet in my noggin
Reminds me my unachievable chore
List means job, and Apple remembers my login.
Above all, let me say thank you with eyes
Open to gifts I forgot to recognize.
To make a kickass salad dressing, you need acid, an emulsifier, and salt.
The other day I was outa lemons, and I needed a little somethin somethin. Then I spied the dill pickle jar in the back of the fridge. And magic ensued.
Here’s a recent lunch construction featuring my own hillbilly Tzatziki riff.
Here’s what I pulled from the quickly-emptying fridge:
Yogurt, dill pickle juice, scallion and salt. Mix that and add your chunky cucumbers. (I only had a little bit of yogurt left, so I put everything in the container together and shook.)
Chopped romaine and carrots done with the veggie peeler on top of that. There’s some chicken breast I batch cooked in the Instant Pot a couple days before.
Mix that with your hands and into some salad bowls. Thanks for the pretty bowls, Mama.
Toss the chicken in the remaining dressing.
Add hummus, whole wheat pita, use a rubber spatula to get all that dressing out of the bowl, and there’s a yummy lunch.
You begin rehearsing when you’re very young,
Testing tactics, gesture, and use of voice
To guage what actions elicit embrace. You clung
To the director’s words and based every choice
On a raised eyebrow or the cessation of speech–
Which way of performing will win the boss’s
Favor again? If nothing else, you teach
Yourself how to ignore your secret losses
While looking competent but exhausted. When
They see how hard you’re working, they’ll take note,
Right? They’ll smatter you with claps. Then
You’ll be significant, reciting lines by rote.
Soon, you won’t even need a script anymore.
You’re memorized, tight-costumed, half lit. Encore.
A recent discovery in our house is the banana and egg pancake. They taste like crepes, and they are delicious.
| What we do: two eggs to one banana (you can experiment with this ratio) pinch of salt/to taste a lil bit of vanilla extract Mix all that together (an immersion blender is very helpful) Non-stick skillet TJ’s Avocado spray Make them like pancakes The flipping part was a learning curve for me, so be patient with yourself. Top with what looks good to you or nothing at all. These are delicious leftover right outa the fridge. In the pic, these are topped with berries zhoozhed with some good balsamic vinegar. | |
I hope these words bring you clarity and encouragement today.
There is a select group of people who are going to naturally vibe with who you effortlessly are. This is great news.
If you are operating a small business, (and if you want to make your life as a storyteller, you are operating a small business), you only need a small, loyal customer base to have a successful go at it.
Example: when I ran my teaching studio in Los Angeles, I worked out that I needed 120 regular clients in order to teach 20 hours a week. I had about 500 on my mailing list. With that lil number, I was busy and able to pay my bills.
120 musical theatre nuts out of how many in LA County—not a big percentage. But if I had more than that, I’d have to start hiring.
Think about the life of an actor now. Let’s pretend there are 100 casting directors in your market. How many do you need to believe in your skills in order to start getting in doors? A much smaller number than 100.
If five casting directors are wild about you and keep calling you in, one day that’s going to turn into a job and another. (PS that’s about the number of offices that consistently called me in when I was a working actor in NY.)
And how many agents’ offices do you need? That’s right: one. You need one, if even that. I knew many consistently working actors in NYC who were agent-free.
Please inquire into this thought distortion we pick up–that everybody needs to love and understand us and validate our talent. You don’t even need to validate your talent. You just need to bring your best work into the room and communicate it better every day.
A couple days ago I told Melissa that I was feeling really confused. She said, “The world is objectively confusing right now!” Oh, right.
Please remember that, you all. There are less things that seem readily graspable right now, so let’s focus on what we have agency over—making art and sharing art in the ways we can.
And remember. You just need a lil itty bitty tribe that gets you and your work to have a career that’ll make you complain about how you need to find some balance.
Bless all y’all. Be kind to yourselves. Do your work. Your people will recognize you.
***Please do yourself a favor and get to know Seth Godin’s work. I believe he’s an important voice for art makers of all kinds.***
James Taylor wrote a song that said
“Time isn’t really real,” and I’ve heard
That in other places as well. My head
Always balked at this notion of blurred
Eternity invading the measured spread of hours
And days brilliant brains assigned to Earth’s
Revolution. But I feel this theory’s powers
Whirring past at globe-spin speed, births
And deaths of spirit-knit carbon rushing
By me as if chest-deep in a river
Alive and autonomous. Attempts to dam it are crushing.
So I swim and see where the current will deliver.
The lyric cites Einstein–he was mystified, too.
I’ll renounce understanding–I’ll float and cherish the view.
At 6:15 a.m. the birds begin
Their heavenly communication. Sequences
Of eighth note triplets call out questions in
The morning cold, and half note falling frequencies
Answer. Their exchanges evaporate early
Brain fog and buoy up my middle guts
Like a helium balloon. Leftover swirly
Dream thoughts clear, and my chatterbrain shuts
Its beak for these brief measures. Unable to rest,
It queries in its nerdiest voice, “What kind
Of bird IS that?” Like a museum guest
Fixated on the label, canvas-blind.
They don’t sow, reap or gather, these singers.
Their unworried tunes are sunrise joybringers.
A sonnet is fourteen lines, seven times
Two — and since I squeaked in just
At the end of 19-double-seven, I must
Have developed an affinity for the rhymes
That can only fit in lines assigned to perfection’s
Numeral doubled. I also love rules.
They were the things that proved my ego’s tools
To construct an edifice designed for pain deflection.
See, if I get it right, then I’m in–
In where, I don’t know, but I’m not
Out. That would hurt and cause a lot
Of sensation labeled fear. Rules = win.
That’s why (though I floundered) I liked ballet.
No one telling you to improv–just do what they say.
My bullet journal suffered fatal injuries yesterday when I left it on top of our car after chasing our one-year-old through the parking lot.
I was lucky enough to find its pieces later that day strewn and smashed along the Holden Road/Bryan Boulevard overpass.
As I wait for a new one to arrive from the Amazon fairy, I pulled out a journal I bought for us in 2015 that I labeled our family dream book.
The cover has a great quote that I eagerly claim now that I’m officially in middle years.
I’ll take it, Mr. Lewis.
Only the first three pages of the journal have been utilized.
And to my delight this morning I opened the front cover to see a list of dreams Melissa and I wrote down in October 2018.
We wrote down fourteen things, and without any direct attention or focus on these particular goals, seven of them have happened.
I was like whaaaaa?–those write-it-down-woo-woo people are on to something. I’m totally one of those write it down woo woo people.
The other goals we wrote down are pandemic-limited, so when we are out of the woods on this, we’ll see!
So, write it down. Make it plain. Even if it’s sitting on your night stand for two and a half years, I’m reminded there’s power in it.
And make them crazy! Go big and stay home–for now.