all day - 12/11/01
fairytale of new york.
NY, In 280 Words Or Less->
Ruth
Rebecca
Dean
Aladdin
Eleanor
Chiori
broccoli pizza
Kate Long
What's "Tech"???
Cherry Lane
Shakespeare Abridged
Dojo
Alfonso Ramirez
Ian
Micah
Isaac
LCLftPA
RENT
Leah Ryan
Katie
Dramatists Guild
Brett
YPI Festival 2001
Gorgeous Raptors
Lucy/ Julia
Sheri
Jeremy Dobrish
Shape of Things
Alfred Uhry
A Christmas Carol w/ Tim Curry
Speaking In Tongues
Madeleine George
Paul on the Subway
Burritoville
YPI Intergenerational
From The Mouths Of Babes
Eva
It's Hard Work Being A Playa
Underneath The Lintel
T. Ryder Smith
Good Thing
this green bag weighs more than me
x7 blocks
how much of life can you fit on an index card?
reflection exercise
Cornelius (Edward...)
the paper plate
so wake up, wake up, wake up now...
Jeremy:
blue ladybugs, falling in love with 9 yr olds, fugues
MaryE:
South Pacific, bios, hanging pizza
Ben:
WTC, boys who make you go awwww, Benny, show me the way back to the...
Lauren:
Hedda/Maude/Maureen, falling in love with 913-yr-olds, a redeeming hug
V:
socialism, little sister, Portugese, "stop being so cool!", marijuana as an alternative to 3-D glasses
Molly:
ice cream distribution is a spiritual purpose, ice dancing hot dog vendors, neverending intelligent comic relief
Edward. Edward Albee.
Caroline:
Catholic all-girls school, does Buddhism mean nothingness?, dramatist's bookshop, affirmation
Isaac:
Henry. Starfucker. why can't we draw attention as ourselves?
Lynn Ahrens
Lucille Lortel
easyEverything
Kristin/ Michael/ Gabra/ Rod
I'm all that
Duane Reade
Starbucks
eighth floor lobby of the Mariott
playwrights in their natural habitat
Ruth hug #1
in which Ruth sees me cry
Ruth hug #?
Bangladesh
How I Learned To Drive
Driving Miss Daisy
Craig Lucas
mice who like granola
how could you not love this girl?
brave.
***
NY, (slightly less) abridged
Ruth, Rebecca:
Speaking of my personal psychosis, I think I lied when I said that I no longer crave immeshed relationships. Or maybe I only sort of lied...because I don't retain any desire toward codependency these days (none) but I do *so* want developed relationships with interesting people (and I want them now!) So basically the challenge is not to force intimacy with every interesting person I meet. And yes, skeptical looseleaf, this *is* relevant because I've met so many interesting people today and I"m already obsessed with two. It's kind of scary, though, because once again their both staff, female, in their 20s. What is it with me and that demographic? It isn't a romantic/physical attraction; yet, I'm drawn. I wonder if by the time I am that age I'll be over this predisposition or if I'll forever by in a young'in' chasing wisdom.
Wisdom with the necessary modern edge, that is.
The first one [Rebecca] was obvious. Chin-length brown hair in borderline (im)perfect spiral curls, the classic black jacket, white top, and jeans. Bright sense of humor, (hers and other people's) and a (decisive not blind) optimistic perception of reality. All-in-all her very syntax *screamed* Chas, and after five minutes of knowing her I had to curb my jealousy whenever she spoke to someone else.
The second one, at a very early moment, brought Stacy to mind, not by any stretch of her personality (I gather little comparison beyond the basic characteristics of a decent human being) but because like with Stacy I was so caught up in wanting someone else, I barely saw (perhaps even was put off by) this other person. But her name is Ruth and the more she talked tonight (my Rebecca-itis was temporarily diminished by a shift change) the more I realized her initial seriousness was not a sign of a guarded personality but a dedicated one, the more intrigued I became. I adore dedication, especially when it's toward something as brilliant as fostering playwriting skills in young talent. I guess what clinched it was this basically fabulous conversation we had on the way back to our *gorgeous* ghetto hotel. It's mind-blwoing but when people meet you here, they instantly start discussing your play (by name!) ...as in, "Oh! Something Blue!" as if I were Ibsen and we were about to debut "A Doll's House." So Ruth is the first person I've ever spoken wiht who seems to know the play almost on the same level I do, and we started talking about its representation on an "art" piece I did tonight. Before I knew it, we'd moved onto how a piece like that comes up in an area so negligent of arts and culture and she actually gave *me* a patented stop-in-your-tracks-and-light-your-face-UP, you-made-my-night look.
Dean--> very fun enthusiastic theater man who joked with us like old friends
Aladdin--> very scary hotel/hostile previously referred to as the "gorgeous ghetto hotel"
Eleanor--> amusing Upper West Side director whose enthusiasm for and understanding of SB overruled the scariness of her affluency
Chiori--> "my" dramaturg- who was very kind although although her determination to confine my piece to one on sexual abuse makes me think she hasn't gotten her share of therapy yet
broccoli pizza--> dinner my first night there
Kate Long--> the woman who ran our first playwriting workshop, she has a gorgeous southern drawl despite the fact she's from Illinois; she was extremely encouraging, and she was beautifully impressed by my piece -> she even said something wonderful about how my being willing to go into those dark places was like cracking open a dark egg in order to heal the world...(she also said, "I'm worried about you...are you ok?" after seeing it) :-)
What's "Tech"??? --> the very amusing, unnecessary piece of programming that everyone gave Ruth shit about; the first time I was at a rehearsal for *anything* since February, *sigh*
Cherry Lane --> the very cool theater where I rehearsed SB for the first time, and where I saw the YPI festival which housed my new favorite play
Shakespeare Abridged--> the first piece of theater we saw, which was amusing despite the fact that everyone was offended by at least one part of it...I struggled with a "look I'm a supermodel; watch me stick my finger down my throat" joke...
Dojo--> a cool restaurant that reminded me how great cities are in terms of veg food
Alfonso Ramirez--> the second workshop runner, who did a hot seat with us and was very much cool
Ian--> the scary intern who lacks *any* emotion (other than the occasional bout of fury) and will likely snap faster than an elderly hip
Micah--> the non-scary intern who took us to the Lincoln Center Library for the Performing Arts and who Issac had a very silly crush on
LCLftPA--> the very cool library where I read "Driving Miss Daisy" and "How I Learned To Drive" without realizing I had a theme
RENT--> the only thing showing in NYC on a Monday night...which I respect despite the fact it is cheesy and outdated; I think it's cool that Johnathon Larson was so honest - integrity rocks...
Leah Ryan--> the third workshop host, who scared me a little being so very Boston-ish, but who did a lot with us on improv and ended up being very encouraging
Katie--> the red-head who took us to see A Christmas Carol and was generally a happy!girl
Dramatists Guild--> the scary corporate side of theater which I refused to join (even though we got a year of free membership) mostly because the accountant recruiting us said it was everyone's dream to be on Broadway and that scared me
Brett--> the director-man who was very kind even though he scared me thoroughly by knowing way too much about me for some random person I met in the hallway while waiting for my mother and sister one night
YPI Festival 2001--> the performance that kept me from fully buying into their "you have all won- the pieces that get produced will be chosen based on logistics from your winning pieces; you shouldn't focus on that right now"
Gorgeous Raptors--> my new favorite play, #2 of four pieces in the festival "My review of Gorgeous Raptors: it was *beautiful!* My God, I have a new favorite play! I felt like someone wrote my life story in 20 minutes." -journal [December 5th]
Lucy/ Julia--> the winners we met from the Spring conference; the author of GR and the beautiful/sad artist, respectively
Sheri--> the nice woman who frightened me only because she was the clone of my sophomore Eng teacher, despite the very important distinction that *she* was *not* inherently evil
Jeremy Dobrish--> the director of Shakespeare Abridged who was also a playwright and who came to talk with us
Shape of Things--> a very, *very* cool play that was a lot more like mine than How I Learned to Drive despite what my dramaturg said...
Alfred Uhry--> the president of YPI who bought us Chinese food (we ate it in his apartment!)...he told me I'm short. :-)
A Christmas Carol w/ Tim Curry--> the most god-awful, amusing thing I've seen in many a year
Speaking In Tongues--> poetry and playwriting make mary drool
Madeleine George--> the very cool woman who spawned "Gerald Gets a Job" in which Gerald becomes a cross-dresser to win over a director casting an all female show
Paul on the Subway--> my scary encounter with a character from my play incarnated on the subway - which I told Ruth about
Burritoville--> the restuarant that terrified me most when I first saw the agenda, but which turned out not to be too terrible
YPI Intergenerational--> the other festival YPI is putting on right now which had the very cool piece about nursery schoolers who decide to kill their daycare giver based on a deficiency of juice, lies about princesshood, and time spent in the corner
From The Mouths Of Babes--> said piece
Eva--> author of said piece who was very cool and who got her nipple pierced during some down time at the spring conference, much to the surprise of the staff
It's Hard Work Being A Playa--> the other piece at the Intergenerational festival, whose author was very cool despite the fact that Rebecca teased him relentlessly about girls who'd begged for his autograph
Underneath The Lintel--> the amazing one person show about a librarian who finds a library book 132 yrs overdue returned in the overnight slot and ends up on a search for the wandering Jew (which topped us off at 7 plays in one day)
T. Ryder Smith--> the very amazing one-person in that one-person show, who I think would make a very good Paul - and who was a sweetie during his talkback
Good Thing--> the last piece we saw, which was in a church of all places, and had Becky from Roseanne and the young Anne Bancroft from "Deep In My Heart" in it
this green bag weighs more than me--> what I thought to myself as I carried my belongings back from the Aladdin
x7 blocks--> the distance I carried them
how much of life can you fit on an index card? --> a line from Isaac's piece, which Ruth quoted when we did our closing ritual, making everyone an index card about their piece
reflection exercise--> the index card thing just mentioned
Cornelius (Edward...)--> two darling characters we created with Kate Long the first day...I knew I finally had the proper distance from the Midwest when we ended up with a charming yet decrepit owner of a Vaudevillian theater in love with an up-and-coming motion picture star who was currently the chorus boy...
the paper plate--> my replacement for looseleaf when I got bored with straight lines, which is still in my conference binder
so wake up, wake up, wake up now...--> part of the song V sang us the last day she woke us up, when she did so with a beautiful blues-folk piece that would make Ani salivate
Jeremy--> one of the playwrights, from NJ who was talking a year off before going to Columbia
blue ladybugs--> a very cool reference in his play
falling in love with 9 yr olds--> something I found possible when he did the hot seat as a character named Billy who was nine years old (afterward, I told him he'd redeemed the name for me)
fugues--> a very cool way to write a play (his was written as a fugue)
MaryE--> (another cool playwright from NJ who goes to Rockhurst, and who knew Jeremy before the conference)
South Pacific <--her character "Grandmother" was played by Bloody Mary from the TV version of South Pacific with Glenn Close and Harry Connick, Jr
bios <--she didn't write her bio either
hanging pizza <--she hung pizza from the ceiling to represent her play
Ben:
WTC <--they had trouble finding him because his apartment was destroyed by the attacks
boys who make you go awwww <--never failed to have a character fitting that description
Benny <--the nickname V created for him, which stuck, somewhat surprisingly
show me the way back to the... <--he was my escort since I was a thoroughly incompetant country girl
Lauren:
Hedda/Maude/Maureen <--various names of an elderly Jewish women she adopted for an ongoing improv between she and Isaac
falling in love with 913-yr-olds <--very much obsessed with Daniel Radcliffe, a.k.a. Harry Potter
a redeeming hug <--her last hug was very nice/affirming/strong etc.
V <--Victoria, the first one I saw when I got there, who was "semi-conscious" on the couch, is a political studies/ music major at Hampshire college in Mass.
socialism <--her very cool political view
little sister <--said she felt I was hers :-)
Portugese <--she speaks this
"stop being so damn cool!" <--Molly's response to finding out V spoke Portugese
marajuana as an alternative to 3-D glasses <--V asked Rebecca if it would be alright for audience members to smoke marijuana during her piece as a way of achieving a new level - when Rebecca's blood pressure had achieved a new level, she continued, "Naw, I'm just kidding - can we go out to dinner?"
Molly: <--cool girl from L.A. who goes to Brown
ice cream distribution is a spiritual purpose <--theory of character in her play "An Ice Cream Man For All Seasons"
ice dancing hot dog vendors <--amusing component of said play
neverending intelligent comic relief <-- her purpose
Edward. Edward Albee. <--a playwright whom one of Isaac's professors is constantly referring to as such...for example: "I went to one of those god awful dinner parties at Edward's last night...you know Edward. Edward ALBEE" - we enjoyed being pretentious and name-dropping this way
Caroline: <--very good playwright who reminded me of Maggie and who goes to some school in NYC
Catholic all-girls school <--evident part of her upbringing
does Buddhism mean nothingness? <--question I wanted *her* answer to after seeing her play "Trade"
dramatist's bookshop <--we went here and I was very much in awe; I bought myself a Beckett book because I was sad and in my critique Ruth compared me to Beckett, so it seemed like a fitting time to get the book
affirmation <--she gave me this
Isaac:
Henry. <--Maude/Maureen/Hedda's crazy husband who said "Hello, Eighth Ave" a lot...
Starfucker. <--his appropriate last name
Why can't we draw attention as ourselves? <--very cool question raised by his play
Lynn Ahrens <--Ragtime/ Once On This Island/ Seussical/ Christmas Carol lyricist who reminded me of Judie were Judie an artist
Lucille Lortel <-- theater the readings were held at
easyEverything <--provided me computer access
Kristin/ Michael/ Gabra/ Rod <--my cast and stage manager, did a very good job, did a very good job and made sure I was heard, did a very good job and told me I was a "brilliant woman", did a very good job and offered to get me a puppy, respectively
I'm all that <--what I learned from a drunken man on a street corner my first time walking alone in the city
Duane Reade <--the shop on pretty much every corner which failed to have shower shoes (a necessity at the Aladdin)
Starbucks <--what is on the other corner
eighth floor lobby of the Mariott <--apparently a very good place to write
playwrights in their natural habitat <--what we decided is the claim to fame of the Playwright restuarant, seeing as no playwright could *afford* to eat there, it must be about viewing them at the cheap restuarant next door
Ruth hug #1 <-- DECEMBER 4, 2001
Just a few notes before I begin writing creatively. Ruth hugged me today. I know that's not the type of thing you're *supposed* to write in a journal, but that *is* the type of thing I care about...so yes, Ruth hugged me today, I found a new favorite play, I turned a cold shoulder to the corporate cult, and was very proud of myself because when I met a very smart, sadly beautiful, 20-something female, I did not fall in love with her...which suggests that I might have gotten over my dark artist stage -(somewhat)- and admitted I like to laugh.
in which Ruth sees me cry <--scene: the last meeting of everyone after the readings...when I realized I'd be going home, she hugged me and told me it'd be ok...I believed her because she survived high school in Kenya, Bangladesh, et cetera...
Ruth hug #? <--the one she jumped into before I even got "goodbye" past my lips...the one that felt very, very good
Bangladesh <--where she lived growing up as a UN brat
How I Learned To Drive <--the play Chiori recommended I read, which felt like a punch in the stomach
Driving Miss Daisy <--the play I read before meeting Alfred Uhry so that I'd know something about him ("after all, he's read all of your plays; it'd be nice if you knew some of his")
Craig Lucas <-- the very cool author of "Blue Window" who apparently wrote a long e-mail praising my piece when he was unable to attend the committee meeting to choose the winners and who was *disappointed* he was busy and unable to direct it! ahhhhhhhhhhh!
mice who like granola <--the other residents at the Aladdin Hotel
how could you not love this girl? <--the question Ruth asked my mother after hugging me
brave. <--what Kate Long told me I am and what I decided I am going to say to all young girls in place of "look how beautiful you are"
***
NY, Elaborated:
The Writers Conference is nine days of intensive playwright development which culminates with three days of readings. A unique professional playwriting program for the nation's top young writers, the Conference provides a remarkable introduction to the professional theater. YPI strives to take full advantage of New York City's resources and ensures the highest level of practical training in playwriitng while creating an atmosphere of professional cooperation and community. Participants are chosen from the over 1,000 entrants to the Young Playwrights Festival National Playwriting Competition. -from the spiffy yellow program
I vaguely remembered reading the call for work in my sisters Dramatics magazines as I poured over the winning scripts (a daily breakfast ritual since the time I was, say, 10.) Ever since that point, I'd entered annually, grateful for the detailed feedback and the evident growth in my work. The idea of the conference had all but disappeared from my mind. In fact, as I opened the envelope that would ultimately reveal I was a semi-finalist, I shrugged away any lingering optimism with an indifferent "Here's hoping for next year." I was shocked to discover I still had a chance. -from my journal, the first day, when I still cared about the shitty topics we were given (including "Secrets," "Taking Control" and "A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes...)
I was most excited to be working with YPI because other than theater I read, saw, or performed in, the only direction I received in that genre was from their annual critiques. So basically the people who are offering me this conference as a reward for being an outstanding playwright (I didn't realize I was one of 10 finalists from a pool of *800* entries) are the people who taught me to be one. Isn't that FABULOUS? -journal, first night
Minutes upon arriving I was told that my director was on the phone, eager to discuss casting. The sense of "overwhelmed" grew. Basic shyness and the mandatory shock of listening to someone else explain their vision of *my play* restricted my end of the conversation (almost completely) to surprised gutteral sounds. In my head all I could think was, "Do these people know who I am?"
Being told you are talented and worthy of good things for three months is one thing. Being flown on an all-expenses paid trip to NYC to see your play read professionally (and then possibly produced off-Broadway) is quite another.) -journal
At this point, my highest expectation for this writers' conference is to be continually blown away by basically everything. I guess all of these playwrights had their first conferences, readings, productions, as well, but I definitely feel like I'm running along behind them, tripping to catch up. Amazing how you can be 16 and in NY about to see the first professional reading of your play and still feel behind the times. It's not a bad "young" feeling, though - because in terms of actual age, I feel like I'm on the same level as they are. I'm just a tad bit inexperienced for this stage of the game.
My personal goal is to not let that relative "youth" be the excuse for any shyness, illness, or negative attention to kick in. I just have to remember that I've already had the opportunity to talk one-on-one with Ruth and Rebecca without baiting the line with my mystery disease and in all likelihood, I'll be given that chance again. Why settle for explaining I'm scared to shaking over "Burritoville" when I could just as easily be laughing with someone?
The other goal is to maintain a voice in my piece, which can only happen if I keep the former issue in line. I can't wait to be discussing SB with director and dramaturg, seeing actors play off my script. Hoperfully, I can remain general discussing the symbolism in the play as I interpret it and still communicate clearly. I guess if necessary I will explain what "inspired" it - but only if I'm positive it's not just because my dramtrug turns out to be a female in her late 20s with a familiar syntax. My goal is to give myself more credit than that.
I think the exciting thing about my peers here is that they're so fun-loving and humorous in everyday life but develop a seriousness when discussing their work. It's obviously such an intimate part of them; yet, no one here is dressed in black, playing the starving artist. It's unnecessary - perhaps even counter-productive, as I doubt they'd be taken seriously. I admire their ability to be playwrights and people, to not just use their bodies as another stage their pieces play upon. This is interesting for me because, so long convinced I lacked an (acceptable) identity, I've let myself, in the past, play up the drama of both artist and art. It's like Stephanie's advice on maturity, it's okay that we can express ourselves this way, but if it ever looks fun to be a slightly overwhelmed, wide-eyed kid in the city - why NOT? -journal, 2nd day
*
So basically, yeah, I'm being inspired in god knows how many ways. Actually lifting characters from unwritten pieces in my mind and rediscovering them in other works. It's exhilerating beyond words.
And I'm excited because when I first artived at their office and realized that the people resemble red-people and certain alumni attach themselvese to the program the way I have to red, it occurred to me that maybe I'd work there. But honestly, I don't really *want* to - I want the psychology "heal your life" aspect I'd always planned...which means that maybe I'm not "settling" for red the way Stacy suggested. Maybe I'm just "precocious" and I once again know very clearly what I want too early for anyone to trust me.
-journal, first night
Excerpts From Workshop Exercises all (c) me:
two girls kissing each other softly
eyes set contentedly somewhere in the distance
as if dreamed. there is the sound of the rain.
Cornelius, to Edward, already gone for Hollywood: "So that's it then, Edward...that beautiful voice and two deaf ears? How easily you manipulated the music for one who never heard the words, building dramatic phrases you're too closed to realize. Continue. The last line, that brief pause of the audience, promising us rave reviews again. Yes, they will be in the Times tomorrow; your name first- a gritty photograph of "Edward and the microphone" gripped within your shaking palms. The theater lights exposing sidewalks of audience members. But no tomorrow is too late. You must run again toward glory, to a world as deaf to the music as you are to those incidental silences? An audience waiting to applaud...a -friend- waiting to...no, you have to go. Have to see your name written in bright lights...bold print headlines for Edward, the boy wonder. Again and again people in your ears screaming at your talent but never again that silence...Edward. Never, except for you. And out on the streets littered with ticket stubs, when the last patron has returned home, you will be the one staring up at the lights over the theater door...and who says you'll even recognize your name anymore, Edward? What Hollywood sorceress can promise you your name?"
(Red. As the lights start to rise on the living room of a somewhat upper class family, we are surrounded by a series of quick clicks, like doors are being locked, unlocked, and bolted. After a short time they develop a rhythm that bursts open into a crazed melody as the lights come up fully. A teenage girl, 17 with a disguised liberal look about her, is dancing wildly on a couch at center. Around her, several shelves are neatly stacked with very expensive, very ugly, breakables.)
dance dance dance dance dance
I am all about high energy music today, as I put together this spastic entry...Smashing Pumpkins, Nickelback, Live, Alien Ant Farm, and Julie's Exposure Mix...god bless musical caffeine. Break those damn knick knacks - break them!
crazychord,
queen of ny
"I can't believe I finally found the key, the door, the trick/ it was all in my mind/ now I'm one with the fools of love/ I can't believe I finally the prisoner, the free man were all in my mind/ now I'm one with the fools of love..."
-live "call me a fool"
~red song~
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