On Television: Part Two

ZOELAB DAY 50

It’s a new day. And now, as I write, Emilio, Georgie (4) and Vinnie (6) (another Friday night sleepover) are getting a special Saturday morning treat: they are watching The Muppets. The new one that came out in 2011. I love this film—as a Muppet fan, I find, in its sincere and hearty goofiness, that it stays true to the original Muppet credo. The music, in particular, is great, because it includes both the original classics from the show: Rainbow Connection, The Muppet Show theme song, and then some new tracks written by the wonderful Brett Mackenzie, (another one of my major crushes) who is one half of Flight of the Conchords, “the fourth most popular folk rock parody band in New Zealand” and the television show of the same name.  (I will write more on FOTC later.) Vinnie just grabbed Emilio’s stuffed Ernie toy and asked me if he was a muppet. I thought about if for a moment, and then said: “Yes, in fact, he is a muppet!” When the movie was over, all the boys asked me to draw a picture of their favorite muppet for them. Of course, I do believe your favorite muppet is really the muppet that you most identify with. This is a question I have asked people many times in my life: “which muppet are you?”. Georgie chose “animal,” which is spot on. Vinnie chose “Kermit,” also spot on. And Emilio chose “Walter” (the new muppet character from the film). An interesting choice, that I don’t quite understand. Walter is sort of a bland character, who doesn’t really know what he wants, but he is, in fact, the world’s biggest muppet fan.

So, yesterday I was describing my period of syndicated sitcom serial monogamy. There is one other show that should be mentioned: Will and Grace. Although I found the princessy normalcy of the two title characters a little annoying at times, I do believe Debra Messing, who played Grace, is a great comedienne and is a dead ringer for Lucille Ball. In my opinion, a great comedienne, even if she is naturally beautiful, has to be willing to be both ugly and foolish. Both Lucille Ball and Debra Messing are able and willing to do that. However, the funniest stuff of the show comes from the fabulousness of the two supporting characters: Karen (played by Megan Mullally) and Jack (played by Sean Hayes). Their dancing, their singing, their dramatic entrances are absolute genius. They help us remember that a sitcom (a classic multi-camera one) is not just a television show. It is a live performance in front of an audience. They were magically able to take the utmost in obnoxiousness and turn it into unmitigated charm. Like many of the funniest sitcom characters, they represent the people we don’t want to be, but fear we secretly are. And the best part is, in all their glorified pettiness, they make no apologies for it. Of course it must be mentioned that the show was groundbreaking in its normalizing of gay men.

This period of sitcom watching came to an end around the same time that I quit acting, and decided to pursue my dream of starting a rock band.  Instead of falling asleep to sitcoms every night, I would take out my guitar and write songs until bedtime. The experience of choosing a creative act over a passive act was a very healthy shift for me. In fact, the period of being in a band was one of the three (along with performing improv and ZOELAB) most fulfilling creative endeavors I have engaged in.

It was not until graduate school in San Francisco that I became addicted to television again. Graduate school was an incredibly enriching, but emotionally difficult experience, and I really needed to have an escape in the evenings. I had nicknamed grad school emotional boot camp. We had to be in therapy, talk personally about ourselves in class, and write essays and make art about our personal histories, fears, traumas, while at the same integrating a lot of theory. My escape from having to think about myself became a project that I embarked on with Lucas—watching the entire 5 seasons of Six Feet Under. I had already seen some of the show and knew that I loved it, but we wanted to get through the whole thing. We would receive 3 DVD’s at a time from Netflix. We didn’t want to watch them all at the same time, so we would scatter them through out the year with other shows and movies. We would often not put a DVD on until 11 at night. (That same syndicated time slot). I always had reading to do and papers to write first. Each DVD had 2 or 3 episodes, and even though, when we first put the show on, we would say we are only watching one tonight, we knew were fooling ourselves, because we really knew that there was no way we could resist watching every episode on the disc. Six Feet Under is the only series I am writing about that is not a comedy. It is my favorite dramatic television series of all time. First of all, I love that is about death. And not in a glorified or inhumane way as are so many other popular dramatic series. I think our denial of death (and of aging) is one of the most destructive things about American culture. The process of facing my own mortality has been one of the most enlivening things I have ever done (and am still doing). I love Six Feet Under because it feels real and human. All the characters are so deeply flawed, and all, each in their own way, are trying to find happiness. They are stumbling through the mess of their lives, as we all do. The acting, also, is incredible. Every single actor on the show acts his and her heart out—each is peculiar and funny and sad and selfish all at once. I agree with the critics that the show fell apart a little in the later seasons, and became melodramatic. And I was not a fan of the last episode. But, still, the show deserves much credit for its courageous writing, and its incredible characters.

The Six Feet Under project was actually a painful experience for me. I cared so deeply about the characters that I felt like they were part of my family. I even dreamed about them. If something bad happened to one of the Fishers (and something bad was always happening to one of the Fishers) I was devastated. If something good happened to one of them, I was elated. And I would become enraged at the show for its unbelievably dramatic cliffhangers. But the most painful moment was when the last episode of the DVD ended, and the knowing that I would have to wait a few days before I could watch it again. There was a dark pit of emptiness that followed.

Another show that I must also mention here is Freaks and Geeks. Sadly, Freaks and Geeks did not get the many seasons it deserved. The plug was pulled only after two. I suppose Freaks and Geeks would be most aptly called a dramedy. It had the format of a dramatic series--one hour, one camera, with a filmic production value and serious themes, but it was also incredibly funny. As with all my favorite things in life, this show had major heart. It centered on two groups of high schoolers--the freaks (who were in the upper grades) and the geeks (who were in the lower grades)—and their families. Another example of a show with great characters because of their realness, and their flaws. In this case, the flaws centered around the group you belonged to. I also deeply related to this show, and recognized myself, and people I knew growing up. The cast, was also incredible. The geeks really looked like geeks and the freaks really looked like freaks.

On Television: Part One

ZOELAB DAY 49

I have a confession to make:

The main, if not totally conscious, reason I chose to do this project of blogging 365 days for a year, was to knock myself out of the indelible, lifelong habit of whiling away the evening (the most precious free time of the day, especially for a parent) watching television. We don’t actually have a television in this phase of our lives, but we do have computers where we watch shows that were once on television. This is the habit of western culture at large. Watching TV (in whatever form of screen) before you go to bed. How many of us have spent a lifetime doing this? TV watching is the most addicting habit I know—or at least within the context of the time after dinner, before bed. There have been a few periods of life that I  was able to break this habit, which involved either a creative project that I was really excited about, or lack of access. Please understand, I love television. Well, I love some television. It has provided such pleasure to me for much of my life. At its best, it provides a unique balm to the troubled soul living in an uncertain world.  A kind of home that doesn’t quite belong to you, but gives you the illusion that it does. At different times in my life, I have fallen in love with: The Mary Tyler Moore Show, I Love Lucy, Freaks and Geeks, Alfred Hitchcock Presents, Arrested Development, 30 Rock, Flight of the Conchords, The Magic Garden, The Muppet Show, Saturday Night Live, Six Feet Under, Kids in the Hall, Taxi, The Office (yes, the American version), and most recently, Girls.

When I was living in Brooklyn and pursuing my acting/ screenwriting/filmmaking career, I had the habit (as many urbanites do) of going home late after a full and tiring day pursuing my dreams or at least trying to survive in an expensive and energetic city, picking up take out on the way home, and then watching syndicated sitcoms until it was time to go to sleep. This was the period of my life when I was a syndicated sitcom serial monogamist. I went from favorite sitcom to favorite sitcom, based on what was syndicated at the right time: 10:00, 10:30, 11:00, and 11:30 at night. Two hours of time (equivalent to a feature length film.) There were some sitcoms that I thought I’d never watch, because I hated them at first, most especially: Seinfeld and Friends. Friends was extremely popular when I was in college. I didn’t watch any TV while I was in college, except during visits home, and when I lived in China for a semester. I lived in a foreign student dorm (which was really a hotel) and each room had its own television. American syndicated sitcoms were a welcome friend. Anyway, back to Friends. I had a deep disdain for it. Maybe my disdain was on principal because it was so popular. But somehow, when I moved back to New York, and started watching it in its syndicated time slot, its charm warmed its way into my heart.  And then it became one of my ten, and ten thirty favorites. I particularly loved Lisa Kudrow’s portrayal of Phoebe. I suppose I most related to her character. Lisa Kudrow was brilliant and funny in the roll. I loved how her character was almost dumb, but not quite. It was a subtly different take on the ditzy blonde. Phoebe had edge and she was always a little bit surprising. Which reminds me of my personal definition of comedy: the truth delivered in surprising package. Seinfeld I also hated at the beginning. I found Jerry so whiney and his hair so terrible, that I had to turn away. But, the show’s undeniable funniness lured me back in, and I became an ardent fan. I remember watching it on Thursdays during its Prime Time slot and then again, later, and every night, during its syndicated slot. I even tearfully watched the last episode.

There were two other sitcoms I had love affairs with during this phase that were both because the show was great, but also because I had developed an awful crush on the male star of each of them. Those sitcoms were: That 70’s Show, the crush being on: Topher Grace (Eric). Were you thinking it was Ashton Kutcher? I know you weren’t thinking that. Maybe you were thinking it was Danny Masterson? Who definitely was crushable. But no, it was Topher Grace. His boyish charm with just a hint of cockiness, which, somehow, always got teased out of him. It was also his laugh, because when he laughed he seemed like he was breaking character--it felt so real. It is said in the acting world, and I agree with this, that laughing (far more than tears), is the hardest thing to “act”. And the other sitcom? Newsradio. And the crush? Dave Foley. Dave Foley’s character Dave, had a very similar appeal to Topher Grace’s Eric. Actually, now that I think about it, they were very, very similar. In looks, in the boyish charm, with that touch of cockiness that got teased out of him. And in the very sincere laugh where you feel like you are seeing just the person. Hmmm.

This essay will have to be continued over the next day or two. I have a lot more to say on this subject, and I can’t stay up all night writing. After all, I still want to watch a little something before bed.

One more thing. A behind the scene irony:

Just today a video projector and screen came into our possession (how it came into our possession is a story in itself that I will tell at another time). As I write this, Lucas, who has hooked up the projector and screen, is watching Boardwalk Empire. The screen is set up just a few feet away from where I sit, at the painted ivory table (which I use as a background to many ZOELAB images). I can see only the back of the screen. Only just yesterday we received a bunch of shows and movies that we had ordered. Perhaps this is not at all ironic, but rather, writing this is helping me to resist the temptation to melt back into the couch with him to be blissfully entertained by new content in a new form.

Meta Lab

ZOELAB DAY 48

We survived the hurricane. It didn’t really hit us directly, it was a spin off storm that hit us. That’s what Part Two of that poem was about (in case it wasn’t clear). My desk and all my books had to be moved, and are still in disarray so I have became a bit disoriented, ungrounded. We had no internet, no cell service for a few days as well.

So, now what?

Well, I’ve been working on the back end of the creative organization of this site. It takes time, and I hope it will be done by the end of the month. Also, I’ve been working on bring new readers here. I am discovering, when you put yourself out there, in whatever capacity, when you don’t get a positive response or any response at all, it is far more pleasant and encouraging, to think of the lack of response not as rejection, but that you just haven’t found your people yet. Don’t worry, I tell myself. They’re out there. If you build it, they will come. The truth is, with the exception of a few friends and family who have written to me, I have no idea who is reading this. It is a wildly risky feeling.

That being said, I did receive some encouraging and heartwarming comments recently that I would like to share. I am going to start creating comment pages in response to particular posts. Because this blog is independent, I don’t have the automatic comment buttons that blogs created from blog sites have. Everything I build I build from scratch. Well, virtual scratch. Also, I don’t want to send out group emails or lean on advertising, so the only way to spread the word is individual by individual. It is time-consuming, but it is also deeply rewarding, as I am opening connections with people, and hoping to engage in dialogues about the creative process, parenting, inspiration, happiness, or anything else that feels mutually important.

I feel deeply heartened, as well, because a dear friend of mine sent me his novel, which I have started to read with great enthusiasm. I was so honored and felt, maybe, in some tiny way, that what I am doing here had given him the en(courage)ment to send it to me. Another reader had written about risking failure, and his participation in a music contest. Another reader wrote how the post about empowerment affected her posture that day. These comments will be added soon. And I welcome more comments, and more readers. They say it takes a village to raise a child, and I do believe it takes a community to make an artist.

Three Days: A Poem in Three Parts, Part Three

ZOELAB DAY 47

The valley welcomes a new calm.

Outside, the air lets the sun shine through.

The wind is a welcome friend.

But, what happened to all the caterpillars?

The rain has chased them out of their homes.

As it has with the scorpions and snakes and beetles.

I find one, curled up on a leaf.

I find another one, eating our bougainvillea.

Then, I see them:

Tiny, yellow, fluttering.

I try to capture them

with my camera,

The weather thief.

The question remains:

Which butterfly belonged to which caterpillar?

Three Days: A Poem in Three Parts, Part Two

ZOELAB DAY 46

The next day, the rain came, again.
Every few minutes, a new sound,
A new amount:
A sheet, a bucket, a drop, a blanket.

And inside our house,
the rain came too.
Honey brown stripes down
our 6 month old walls.
Pools collecting on the orange plastic
covering my desk.

Watercolors painted,
Paper soaking
muddy stains.

The wind was next.
With its power
mostly suggested.

Loud because of a tarp on our roof
Ineffectively flapping about.

The fear of destruction
Waking us up at dawn.

The light so dim,
Not from earliness
But from clouds.

The day is given up on
For anything related to production
Or radio waves.
It is time for
mopping and sopping.
Watching and snacking.

Telepathically transmitting:
We are okay.
We are a little bit wet.

The house has been overtaken
By chaos.

A storm within created by
Retreat.

Three Days: A Poem in Three Parts, Part One

ZOELAB DAY 45

Three Days

Day One

Sneaking out of the house,
before little eyes see me.
I walk up the mountain,
which I have come to realize
is really a hill,
and along the way I counted
128 caterpillars.
Each one, clinging quietly
to a blade of grass,
appearing very much like a cattail
but green, and speckled, and shiny.

One hundred and twenty eight
for my two miles of walking
a straight-ish line.
My view, a few feet wide.
Imagine,
for a moment,
all the other caterpillars in the valley
unseen by my eyes.
Seen, only barely,
as hot air balloons
by the busy ants.
Or as finger snacks
By the hawks.
I did not stop for one caterpillar,
Only taking notes and numbers
With my eyes.
Trying, not that hard,
not to step on them.

Poems on a Theme

ZOELAB 365:  DAY 44

To continue on yesterday’s themes, I want to share three poems.

The first is very well known, and written by the spiritual activist and writer, Marianne Williamson, but is often wrongly attributed to Nelson Mandela as part of his inauguration speech. I was first introduced to this poem by one of my acting teachers many years ago. It spoke to a part of me that had never been spoken to before and has inspired me countless times since. The second is a poem I wrote in response to that poem. The title comes from a women’s artist collective and website called Spun Sugar that I initiated many years ago in NYC, but never came to fruition. The third poem is a poem I wrote while in graduate school that dares  the other (and myself) to not fall for the illusion (a false self) of disempowerment. The latter two poems became lyrics to songs that are as of yet, unfinished.

I made the drawing above while exploring Jungian theory in graduate school. It depicts the feminine archetype that becomes empowered through her connection with nature. By reclaiming the parts of her that were in shadow: her power/animus (the lion), her groundedness/earthiness (the tree), and her femininity/sexuality (the moon) she becomes an integrated, embodied and empowered woman, and therefore: whole.

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give others permission to do the same. As we're liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

Song for a Spun Sugar Sister

Planes go high in the sky,

red-winged red birds pass me by.

But, me on them,

me seeing them

makes me large & upwards &

cross-moving.

makes me Chinese-happy,
& sunshine eyes.

My tragic stomach

flittering,

ticking the blood up to my heart.

Don’t be afraid,

in the smoke-stacked circumference

of a tiny world

on tiny hinges

to be great,

to let out the largeness of you.

Don’t be afraid

to put forth

kind & bouncy words

for those ears you care for.

Don’t be afraid

to talk of your unique bible:

soulful & aesthetic

human & genetic.

Don’t be afraid

within the shameful state of things

to be embarrassed

to hold yourself,

to wink at unseen things.

Cuz it’s not what we can swallow,

but what we can chew-on

that gives us acceleration

and initiation.

So, be large, as Marianne says.

Be huge in your dollhouse

and soon you will see

that even those who’ve made you shrink

will suddenly swell.

Don’t Believe

Don’t believe

this face

this ease

this voice.

Don’t believe

this overt tenderness

which caresses you

and mends

your discomfort

with your presence.

I need for you

not to believe

that this is all I am.

I need for you

to pry me out.
I need for you

to know how I have left me.

That there’s a fierceness inside

that aches.

There’s rhythm

in this body.

But not the rhythm you think.

Don’t believe

My voice you hear.

It’s on top of another thing:

A rumbling.

A torn creature.
A fire.

Listen harder

And be bold with me.

Blood bold.

Don’t believe

my fragile escape.

Even this,

I can fake.

Inspiration from Fresh Air: Comedy, Rock-n-Roll & Feminism

Last night I wasn’t feeling well, so I retired early with out doing my post. Today I needed to catch up. (I have been allowing myself the option to sometimes skip my post as long as I catch up the next day. This allows a little space when problems with technology or illness get in the way of blogging.) Instead, I lay on the bed for hours drifting in and out of sleep, listening to downloaded pod casts of fresh air on my ipod. I listened to an interview with Jack Black talking about his new movie directed by Richard Linklater (one of my favorite directors), Louis C.K. and how he brings experiences and emotions from his actual life into his sitcom, which I have never seen, but would like to, Chris Rock, and how his comedy has changed since becoming wealthy, and Jimmy Fallon and his hilarious and spot-on impersonations of Neil Young and Bob Dylan singing covers by musicians of other genres. Then I heard an interview with Caitlin Moran, where she talked about her book How to Be a Woman. I had never heard of her or her book before, but apparently she is a very big deal. She’s a high profile journalist and rock critic from the UK, and talks with a speed, intelligence and humor that is very impressive, and juxtaposes hilariously with her British accent. (Her r’s are not pronounced, and she says the word “very” quite often.) How to Be a Woman is a call to feminism. Or a recall to feminism. She speaks boldly about how feminism gets a bad rap, and that all women are feminists, or should be.

From How to Be a Woman:

“We need to reclaim the word feminism. We need to reclaim the word feminism real bad. When statistics come in saying that only 29% of American women would describe themselves as feminist and only 42% of British women, I used to think: what do you think feminism is, ladies? What part of liberation for women is NOT for you? Is it the freedom to vote? The right not to be owned by the man that you marry? The campaign for equal pay? Vogue by Madonna? Jeans? Did all that stuff just get on your nerves or were you just drunk at the time of survey? These days, however, I am much calmer since I realized that it’s actually technically impossible for a woman to argue against feminism. Without feminism you wouldn’t be allowed to have a debate on a woman’s place in society. You’d be too busy giving birth on the kitchen floor, biting down on a wooden spoon so as not to disturb the men’s card game before going back to hoeing the rutabaga field.“

It was inspiring to be reminded of the importance of feminism. I was suddenly made aware of the fact that the term feminist has gone into the shadows. Of course the issue of abortion is on everyone’s minds right now, and Ms. Moran discusses this issue personally and frankly. However, many of us have become afraid of being seen as feminist, as if a feminist is an ugly, terrifying, man-hating monster who no one wants to look at or listen to. As if there are no longer feminist issues to bring light to. As if female empowerment is not something that needs to be encouraged and embraced.

Empowerment, and women’s empowerment in particular, has been a central issue to me, both in my personal development and in the work I do with people. To me, empowerment means being congruent—-who we are is inside is expressed by how we are. It means being full of oneself. Not in the in the egotistical sense, but rather in the sense of being psychologically present in one’s body. Empowerment means feeling you have the right to be heard and seen. Believing you have the same rights as everyone around you. Women spend a lot of energy protecting men’s egos, but we don’t protect our own. Often we pretend we don’t have an ego, we don’t allow ourselves be ambitious and smart, we tell ourselves not to need or want things, to not feel we deserve to have success beyond our traditional roles, as mothers or wives. Sometimes, a woman’s biggest secret is how powerful she is.

The eventual evolutionary goal is to be egoless, or to no longer be identified with the ego. But the first step is acknowledging and seeing how we are identified with the ego. As women we have a tendency to identify with a negative self image (or ego). So we become less conscious of our egos, more likely to live an inauthentic self. This has been true of me, anyway. This is an aspect of disempowerment. It is a way of disconnecting, turning away from our power, not seeing who we really are; living only as a shell of a person, with no sense of reality or aliveness. I’ve often had the experience of living under this kind of spell, and art or connection to other people is what most often brings me out of it. For me it always comes down to art and love. Loving art, and art-ing love. The two forms of expression that are most empowering for me are (improv) comedy and rock-n-roll. Both expressions require a brazen truth telling. This is congruence in a very active sense. From experience, I know that both rock-n-roll and comedy are boy’s clubs. It takes a strong woman to prevail. It takes a stubborn woman. (See post On Inspiration.) And, believe it or not, it takes letting go of our need to be perfect. There are myths that are still told that women aren’t funny, or women can’t rock. It’s just not true. But a funny, expressive, empowered woman can be a very threatening thing. Certain people have investment in keeping women silent, it keeps their egos in tact.

When I was first introduced to the term feminism as an adolescent, I instantly identified with being a feminist. Just the idea of it was empowering to me. Influenced in high school by Virginia Woolf’s A Room of One’s Own, I decided that I was a feminist with an androgynous mind--a mind that possesses both feminine and masculine qualities. This brand of feminism holds great empathy for men and the plight of masculine expectation. This kind of feminism recognizes society’s unconscious rejection, not always of women, but of attributes that are associated with femininity (as well as the right side of the brain): intuitiveness, emotion, nurturing, vulnerability, receptivity. The Taoist yin-yang symbol (as well as other spiritual traditions and Jung’s concept of anima/animus) represents how polar opposites, such as shadow and light, that exist in nature are not in opposition to each other, but are interconnected and interdependent, working in harmony with each other--both parts of a whole. A society, such as ours, that only embraces rationality, action, linear thought is out of balance with nature.

During the Jack Black interview, Terry Gross asked him if it’s hard to be overweight in show business, he replied that in general, if you’re not sexy like Brad Pitt, you have to work much harder in order to be likable. In his stand up act, Chris Rock talks about how it feels to be rich and black. He talks about his wealthy neighborhood, and how there are only four black people living there,  and these four black people happen to be among the most famous and talented artists in the world, but all the white people are just average people with regular jobs. When she speaks to Terry Gross, Moran talks about how, as an adolescent, she was overweight and felt she wasn’t attractive enough to become a proper woman, so she decided to work on her personality instead. I believe that this is true in general for women (as well as for anyone with systems of power working against them). We have come to believe if we want to succeed at something we better be pretty fucking good. Better than a man. I say: let us be who we are. Let us embrace all of our qualities and polarities, masculine and feminine, darkness and light, active and passive, emotional and rational. Let us not be the judge of ourselves and hide in the shadows. Let us tell our truths and be heard. Let us go beyond expectation. Let us rock out and be funny.

GROOVETROTTERS

ZOELAB 365  DAY 42

We had Georgie and Vinnie over for a sleepover last night, who are still here, while the Groovetrotters (their older brothers and dad) performed their regular gig last night at a Pan Asian restaurant. I had done a photoshoot with the Groovetrotters the day before. They will use one of the photos for their new ad for their Friday night gigs at the restaurant, which will be displayed on a huge billboard on the way into Todos Santos.  This will be my largest and most seen display of photography. Here are a few of my favorites from the shoot:

This last one above is my personal favorite. By an act of coincidental artistic grace, a school bus just happened to slowly pass by while we were shooting. I want to re-shoot it so that the bus is going in the same direction as the boys, (if we can find another school bus) which would be towards Todos Santos, where their performance is. If I can set up the shot right, it could be a great first album cover. The ironic is thing is all these boys are being home schooled by their parents, but I love the idea that they are trying  to hitchhike a ride on a school bus to their gig. This is pure coincidence, that I was inadvertently designing record covers, focusing on rock-n-roll in my blog, and then was asked to do this photo shoot. Eventually we will shoot a music video for them in the desert.

For the photo shoot, I accepted a trade of mangos and meat. In addition to being a musician with many other talents, Ben is also a butcher, and had a successful meat business--raising and butchering his own animals (free range, organic.) But for now he is focusing on being a professional musician, and the meat is for his family, and for occasional trades. Yesterday, we made smoothies from the mangoes and Lucas cooked up the pork chops he gave us. I didn’t eat them because I was feeling sick, but I heard they were delicious!

Non-Linear Journal Entry: Dry Erase

ZOELAB DAY 41

Revolutionary Love

ZOELAB 365 DAY 40

Revolutionary Love

(from 2007)

I want to protect our honeymoon of the future. This is because I am a fighter. A revolutionary within. A revolutionary, fighting for love. Fighting for our deepest need for fantasy and drama and love of the highest order. Devotion and longing of the dream unfulfilled. The dream you know in your spine before I say the word: dream. You dreamt in the womb—it was your womb—soft darkness with eternal space for the energetic dreamer. You were dreaming of your honeymoon—a trip in celebration of your departure and your return. A trip that is touched by your love, that is shielded by your love.

It is not the honeymoon of the bride or groom, it is the honeymoon of your constant longing, your devotion to your longing, from the spell that has overtaken your daily speech and figurative lies. It is a honeymoon of what your spine knows to be true. A truth that has never been spoken. It is a honeymoon of the dream unfulfilled, a dream of your most intimate and innate potential. Inside your belly I can see you are collecting songs, because you are a lucky poet. A cat. Even a lioness.

Your claws are fierce because you are a fighter, a dreamer, an artist of the trapeze, of the high wire. You are a boxer, bloody fisted, reeling. Alive with what is staring you in the face. You can’t afford to lie, to turn your head away, to murder your power. You were born into the boxing ring, and with the most tender and most fierce sensibility, you fight.

I'm a rock-n-roll thing

ZOELAB 365 DAY 39

I think some of us are born with a rock ‘n’ roll gene. I discovered it in myself as a child. It first bloomed for me at eight years old, when I discovered the Beatles. I would lie on the floor and listen to all my parents’ Beatles records over and over. I memorized every song, and eventually bought every album I could. At 13 I wrote my term paper about their lyrics. At 15, I started learning electric guitar. It blossomed for me again in a new way when I first heard the Velvet Underground. When I was 16, I flew to Nairobi, Kenya to visit my brother who was there visiting his Kenyan girlfriend. He picked me up from the airport and had The Velvet Underground album playing in the tape deck. I had never heard anything like it. It opened up a whole aesthetic world for me that I could never have imagined. It was my introduction to art rock, and the first seed of being a future songwriter was planted. The Velvet Underground continues to be one of my greatest inspirations in all areas of art. I named my second film after a song of theirs, and the title of my first full length screenplay also came from a VU song.

I am excited that Emilio also has also been given the rock-n-roll gene. It bloomed in him quite early, before he was even two years old. He discovered the drums through a 10 year old boy.

We are very close to a family from Michigan who has six boys. The two youngest ones (Georgie, 4, and Vinnie, 6) are Emilio’s best friends. The older four boys and their father have a band that plays a mix of blues, rock, jazz and funk. The dad, Ben, plays guitar, Benjy(who will be 18 next month) plays bass, Obë (now 16) plays keyboards, Ricky (now 14) plays congas, and Marty (now 12) plays drums. Their debut in Baja as a musical group was when they performed at our wedding a year and a half ago. We hadn’t even heard them play ahead of time, but we had a feeling they were going to be good. They turned out to be a great band, and got the dancing started at our wedding. We invited them to come back the next Sunday, and we had hosted a jam session with leftovers from the wedding. We continued to host a casual afternoon party with food and music every Sunday for the rest of the season. Every week different musical people showed up with instruments to plug in and large bowls of food. There were times the Sunday jam sessions became so big, we had no idea who was going to show up. Lucas told me that our Sunday jam sessions gave him warm memories of his own childhood, as his father is a professional musician, and he spent much of his childhood among large groups of people hanging out and playing music.

Our friends, who are now called The Groovetrotters have since become professional musicians playing all over Baja. They are plotting their way into global success, with plans for a tour in Europe. They are working on a logo, and have asked me to go take a photo of them tomorrow to use for it. We are also in the process of helping them make a music video.

Rock-N-Roll & Emilio

When Emilio was two, we began finding child drums at segundas. Lucas strapped them around a bucket, and Emilio had a drum set. Emilio played them with great skill and energy.

One time we spontaneously made a song together. No drums in this one. But we made this when Emilio was a the height of his interest in drums.

More Stories

Emilio: “I’m a rock-n-roll thing. I’m a rock-n-roll guy.”

When I’m introducing a new song to him, he asks: “Who’s the drummer?”

During one long car trip, I spent the entire time searching for songs on my ipod based on his specific request to hear “rock and roll drums.”

While we were listening to a Ratatat song (electronic music):

Emilio: “I have a question for you. What kinds of drums are those?”

Me: “They’re electronic.”

Emilio: “Oh, are they rock n roll drums?”

Me: “No not really.” “I want to hear Joan Jett. I want to hear rock n roll drums.” So then I played him I love rock-n-roll. And he was happy. It brings back a memory. I was about eight when that song was popular. I remember my best friend Nicole and I jumping up and down on a bed in a bungalow in Woodstock, NY that her family had rented for the summer, singing I LOVE ROCK AND ROLL as loud as we could.

Rock-n-roll is about rebellion, enthusiasm, and not giving a shit what people think. For me it also has to be a little raw. It makes sense that a toddler would love it. Maybe Emilio will join Garafön when he is older and then Lucas won’t have to play both keyboards and drums, each with one hand.

Fall is Around the Corner

ZOELAB DAY 38

I’ve got nothing.

This is the first time since starting this blog that I really don’t have anything.

I don’t want to connect, I don’t want to share, I don’t want to think. I don’t feel inspired. I don’t have anything to say.

What can I do, but admit the truth. {magically, admitting the truth releases it from my grasp.}

This reminds me of the lyrics to a song. I have never titled it, but I think I will now name it “your song.” Several years ago Lucas wrote a very beautiful song on the guitar, and then he taught it to me. It’s very fun to play--all two string chords. Then I wrote lyrics for it. It was very difficult for me. It was the first and only time (so far) I have written lyrics to someone else’s song.

Your Song

I keep playing but the words don’t come.

I sit here and pray for inspiration.

I don’t have anything to say.

Can you still feel the vibrations of my brain?

Then you came along,

with your song,

and it feels so sweet,

yet incomplete.

I’m gonna overheat.

You are California grown,

and like an avocado,

you turn brown when left around.
I once lived in Ohio.

And then, you came along

With your song.

And it feels so sweet,

yet incomplete.

I’m gonna overheat.

++         ++        ++        ++        ++        ++        ++        ++        ++        ++        ++       

I noticed that on the days I spend most of the time being a mommy, I am less able to be linear here.

I also noticed that I seem to be inadvertently designing record covers lately. Doesn’t today’s look like a record cover?

I asked Emilio today, if could he have any pet in the world, what kind of pet would he have. And he said: “a mouse.” I found that funny, because we already have a pair of mice living with us. And they are very tiny and very cute, with very large black eyes. I got a photo of one tonight checking out our tangle of computer cables.

I just can’t stand the thought of killing them, and yet, they bring the potential for disease into our home. And they keep shredding up our toilet paper to use for nests. I bought some glue traps, but I couldn’t bring myself to set them up yet. I witnessed Lucas kill mice before. Once he shot one point blank in the forehead with an air rifle. Another time, he killed one with a fly swatter. Yes, they are that defenseless.

Oh yeah, and fall is just around the corner. The nights have cooled down. I am wearing pants for the first time in months. The air is crisper, the sunlight is even crisper. Emilio started playing outside again. But still, the bugs remain.

Emilio said to us today: “Hello, how are you? How was your summer?”

Dreams Becoming Plans

ZOELAB DAY 37

These are the projects that I want to get going this year. Most of them have lived in my mind as dreams for many years.

Dream #1

La Maestra

To build my organization Art For Life by continuing to provide cultivating creativity workshops, private coaching, and arts education. Upcoming workshop ideas include: introduction to expressive arts, creative journal workshop, writing workshop. Eventual goal is to create a holistic arts center, with a performance/gallery space, café, studio rental, and classrooms. Teachers teach holistic minded arts classes in a variety of media, using a fusion of expressive arts methods and a multicultural, mindful approach to the fine arts. Invite guest lecturers from the arts, create opportunities for people who have little exposure to the arts. Also, to build a retreat center in Elias Calles for creativity workshops as well as month-long artist residencies.

Dream #2

The Comedienne

To make a situation comedy for the web based on improvisation. The central character: a therapist version of “inspector gadget” a narcissistic and emotionally clumsy unlicensed therapist who practices out of her vintage motor home in Mexico who inadvertently helps her patients, while spending the counseling time fantasizing about her dreams of stardom.

Dream #3

The rocker

Garafön recording project. Independently produce a full length albums of songs with quirky art rock band. Lucas on drums & keyboards, Zoë on guitar & vocals. And maybe even play a few songs in public. Have been invited to participate in “all originals” show this December.

Dream #4

The Fashionista

Seis Doce/612. Launch small scale knits only clothing line. Debuting at fashion show this winter, and then continuing to sell knit tops, dresses and skirts, at local farmer’s markets.

Dream #5

The Homebody

Our home and garden. Continue construction on our house.  Plant herb and vegetable garden. Finish bathroom. Set up solar system. Finish bedroom building. Start landscaping--create walled courtyard around two main buildings. Make studio/guest house building.

+     +    +     + +     + +     + +     + +     + +     +

These projects will not be finished in a year. But my hope is by putting them out there, I am making another step towards manifestation. I will work on each dream, step by step. I will continue to set small goals for myself as the months pass.

Plans for this month:

#1    Start planning the workshops that I will offer in the high season.

#2   Last week I had the revelation that this show can be improv based, using local non actors, rather than using a script, like a more traditional sitcom, which takes the pressure off of my writing the pilot, and brings in my love for improv. Improv (when it’s good) is the funniest and deepest stuff I’ve ever seen.

#3   Get back into practicing guitar and singing regularly. Which has already been happening. (We need to find a drum set for Lucas to practice on.)

#4    Start sewing. (I have already set up and organized my sewing space, and have all the tools (except the labels) I need to get started.)

#5    Paint the bathroom with primer. (Which we already have.)

The Slow Making of a Dream Part Two: First Phase of Building

After Campo Elias Calles, and after Emilio was born, we needed a new place to live. It was winter 2010, Emilio was 5 months old. Our friends, who live in La Huerta (a mostly gringo area next to a surfer’s beach, surrounded by farmlands) took us in. They let us live in a small casita on their property, and in exchange for rent, we did chores (childcare, haircuts, house projects, shopping, etc.) By the spring of 2011 we were ready to start the first stage of building. With out shopping around at all, we hired the first worker we met, a guy named Transmission (who had done a little work for our friends’ on their property) to build a fence around our property, which is about 1.5 acres. It doesn’t seem like much now. But then, having that fence meant everything. It meant that even though we didn’t yet have legal ownership, we had possession of the land. Our land had a boundary.

The North East corner of our lot.

Then we had him built a 13,000 liter pila (giant cement water tank). Next, which was really his specialty, he built a beautiful one-sided palapa (made out of pine polls, palo de arco sticks, rope and palm fronds (found in elias calles). No nails or screws are used. The palm fronds are woven in between the long palo de arco sticks.

He also built a small cement bodega (lockable storage space) that would be used to lock up tools during the building process, but would later become our bathroom. One of the walls of the cement bodega would be one of the walls of our eventual house that would be built under the palapa roof. Jutting out from the low side of the palapa, on the North side of the building, is a media sombre pergola (a shade roof made out of palo de arco sticks woven together), and a floor of adoquin (cement pavers) below. That was to be our patio.

This work was done in a few months. We were so happy and so grateful, but the work was far from perfect. The pila leaked (and still does). The bodega door was put on backwards (and it still is). We found out we were overcharged. But still, we were happy, especially with the quality of the palapa which was beautiful (and still is, even though it leaks and has termites eating it.) It wasn't until it was done and Lucas and I came to spend a little time in the space that would become our house that I knew it was real. It had all seemed like a pipe dream until that very moment. I cried and hugged Lucas and everything changed. I knew then, that we really were going to have a house. And I knew, even if I couldn’t see his vision, which was constantly shifting, that I had to believe in Lucas. That he was going to create a beautiful and unique house for us.

Self Portraits (not selfies because I used a tripod)

ZOELAB DAY 35

To continue on the theme of self, I am sharing some self portraits I took yesterday. The goal at first was to create a new profile photo for facebook (while Lucas was away, he has just returned this evening.) But really, to be really honest, the idea started because I was having  a particularly good hair day, and I wanted to capture the way my hair looked. (A good hair day can sometimes be an equivalent for happiness.) But, because I couldn’t create one I liked for the context of facebook, and I just couldn’t capture my hair. I started to become interested in creating an image for the sake of an image, and in capturing a certain kind of light. I began to let go of my vanity of how I looked in the photo, and then alternately, my fear of being (and appearing) narcissistic, and I started to feel like a character in a spontaneous film. The more I saw myself as someone other than me, the more fun I had with it. I began to objectify myself for the purpose of creating an image. This reminds me of Cindy Sherman’s early work from the 1980’s. I was very influenced by her untitled film stills series and wrote a scholarly manifesto about creating identity as a means of empowerment in the postmodern age, which compared Cindy Sherman with Madonna. In college I also made a lot of self portraits, as girls in college are often want to do. In one series, I created a character who was an androgynous movie star. The photos captured myself in moments in between--expressing an ambiguity of gender, as well as story. Creating those self portraits in college was my way of getting back into acting, which I pursued soon after I graduated.

The self portraits that I took yesterday, tell a different story, from a different film. I am not sure what yet, they are experiments. By taking them and sharing them, I am releasing my fear of being exposed in this kind of way.

The Self

ZOELAB DAY 34

One day about six years ago I had a sudden realization about what true self is. I have found the common advice to “just be yourself” was vague and hard to follow. What is “your true self”? How can you know what it is? That has been a difficult one for me because I am a person in constant flux, emotionally, mentally, geographically, even physically. This fluctuating sense of self  partly creates the need to make art. After embarking on a path of spiritual growth during graduate school, I began to discover that my true self is whoever I am in the moment. The truth is temporary. And subjective. And subject to constant change. The true self is a stream that is both within us and that we ride on top of. True self is contacted when we are present, spontaneous, integrated. We become familiar with our true self when we slow down and pay attention. When we are mindful. 

Children are the best teachers on how to be your true self. Children are constantly changing and growing. They are bursting with spontaneous energy. And their spontaneity is infectious. A healthy child is naturally integrated with mind, body, and spirit. They cannot help but be their true self at all moments because they are living in the present moment. As their guides and teachers in how to survive and thrive in this world, we sometimes need to teach them how to control this irrepressible true selfness. Not destroy it, or ignore it, but to recognize their present truth, and then to look outward to see what else is going on. Part of growing up is realizing we share the world with others and learn how to manage our true nature in balance with others.

Carl Jung’s theory of The Self, the ego, and the individuation process has greatly influenced my  personal growth and my work. The true self as seen as the whole self. Jung called it The Self archetype, often symbolized by a mandala (a circle or spiral with a center) to show completeness, as well as no beginning or end. “The Self is the ordering and unifying center of the total psyche (conscious and unconscious) just as the ego is the center of the conscious personality.” (Edinger, Ego and Archetype). Jung believed that we all born with original wholeness (where the ego (which only exists as a potentiality) and The Self are one, and the individuation process is the process of our ego’s separation from The Self. Simultaneously, we become conscious of our ego (our conscious personality) as it comes into being and separates. As our ego develops, we begin to reject certain parts of ourselves that doesn’t feel acceptable, these parts are our subpersonalities, that become our shadow. Our original wholeness becomes fractured, or at least it seems that this is so. As we continue to develop, however, we begin to long for our original wholeness, and these split off parts of ourselves. We reintegrate them by bring them back into the light by accepting them. The process of reintegration is the process of embracing our shadows and integrating our polarities. Archetypes are symbols or subpersonalities that emerge out of the collective unconscious that help this process. Jung is viewed as the grandfather of expressive arts therapy, as he experimented with art making, active imagination, sand play, as tools to aid in the process of individuation. Through out life, we cycle in and out of ego-self separation and reunion. It is a dance that gradually brings us closer to integration. When we are integrated, we live in consciousness of the ego and its needs, but from the perspective of The Self (the totality) and  we feel empowered to choose which parts of we want to embody or connect with. These parts of self, or archetypes, can be seen as signs, or symbols that have mutable meanings depending on the person, and the culture that the person exists in. We all have polarities within us, and in the collective culture, and yet we often see ourselves as only one half of a polarity. This is painful partially because we are ignoring significant parts of our truths and our experience, and partially because it is an isolation from our spirituality, or Self. What appeals to me about Jungian theory is its innate multiplicity, it creates more space for all the varied and in-between experiences of being human, across culture, gender and time. In a certain way, I believe Jung was a postmodernist. I continue to use archetypes in my own process of individuation. These are characters that continue to appear in my life, naming them, drawing them helps give me a more playful, curious approach to the sometimes painful experience of development. This has been a rudimentary explanation of a very complex, and beautiful theory. I will write more about Jung and his theories in the future, especially as I continue to gain more knowledge of his work.

This daily web check in gives me consistency while there is so little consistency in my experience of my self. To have this space to check in every day (in whatever way that feels most relevant and true to the moment) is one constant, while all other aspects of life are so variable. I see the site and the whole year (the 365 days) as the integration of all my selves and polarities. By allowing myself to freely flow, but keeping daily track of this flow, I am allowing an integration process of all aspects of self, while still finding a center point (represented by this site.) I have chose the spider web as the mandala, the symbol for The Self. This will become the organizing web map page. And, of course, the spider is a perfect symbol of creativity, wisdom, and the complexities of life.

the spider web is a spiral: the spider is simultaneously at the center and the circumference

A List of Every Job That I've Held (that I can remember) in Chronological Order

ZOELAB DAY 33

1980's

1990's

2000's

2010's

1. babysitter

2. portrait model for my mom

3. after school teacher

4. assistant teacher of english as a foreign language to chinese 1st graders

5. postcard order filler at postcard factory

6. film projectionist for college film program

7. teacher of english as a second language to immigrants

8. teacher of english composition to teenaged immigrants at a junior college

9. waitress at middle eastern restaurant

10. intern for light projection artist

11. intern/production assistant for soft porn film production

12. intern for a filmmaking magazine and film producer tutor of english as a foreign language to a chinese twelve year old boy

13. art assistant to children’s text book design company

14. freelance haircutter

15. assistant to independent film publicist

16. assistant director’s liaison and assistant press liaison for film festival

17. assistant publicist for film distribution company

18. freelance production assistant for industrial films

19. waitress at mexican restaurant

20. assistant to small family publishing house

21. designer and creator of children’s art and poetry book for community garden

22. production assistant at my uncle’s corporate event production company

23. actress in various plays, student films, television shows, improv troupes, independent films

24. receptionist for a film director’s production office

25. freelance script reader for acquisitions department of film company

26. door to door advertising salesperson for a city map & guide

27. private assistant/caretaker for cancer patient who wanted help with organizing personal letters

28. cocktail waitress at korean restaurant and lounge

29. sales associate for women’s clothing boutique

30. story writer for pornographic magazine

31. director’s liaison for film festival

32. director’s liaison and press liaison for independent film festival

33. publications coordinator and designer for children’s social services agency

34. volunteer tutor to ten year old boy in reading and math

35. art program coordinator and teacher of art, music, drama, and writing for summer youth program

36. freelance nanny

37. freelance fit model

38. teacher of creative writing and filmmaking to children at summer program

39. teacher of acting for the camera and acting improvisation to children at a drama program

40. led music, drama, movement group at a community center for seniors

41. trainee psychotherapist and expressive arts therapist to teens and adults at an LGBT center

42. intern psychotherapist and expressive arts therapist to children, families and individuals at a counseling center

43. teacher of improv to adults

44. filmmaking teacher to ten year old and twelve year old sisters

45. sales assistant to photographer

46. teacher of creativity workshops and creativity coach

47. web designer

48. wedding planner for hotel

key:

bold = job held or repeated for one year or longer

a note to my readers (if you’re out there):

try doing this exercise for yourself, it’s fun and brings up odd memories. also, it is interesting to look back to see a pattern in your life path/career path. if you try it, i’d love to hear about your experience.

Non-Linear Journal Entry: Androgynous Mind

Sometimes you just gotta take the guitar out of the case.

C F

When you go,

C G

I will be sad.

C F
You did go.

C G

But I’m not sad.

(i’m interested in indicating a scene/time change in songs. as songs from musicals sometimes do.)

September was a particularly heady month. Essay style writing. Drawing. Those are both, as we would say in the expressive arts world, dryer types of expression. They are more mental, more linear. more left brain. Than say, working with clay, which is literally, wet. It is a more emotional and physical art form than drawing and essay writing. Not to say essay writing or drawing is not emotional for other people. I love writing essays and drawing, but I feel a little off balance when I am not also doing more physically and emotionally expressive art forms (like acting or music). I think I focused on drawing and writing essays last month because they are safer forms of expression for me. It makes sense that I started with the blog with that. But September represents only one month,  only one season, one aspect of life, only some part of me.

The true self is not one self, but the self that unfolds daily, continuously. Each of our true selves really exists in the moment. That is the truest self there is the one that is now. We are constantly changing creatures, but we don’t always realize it. We limit ourselves when he recognize only certain parts of ourselves.  But who we are changes each moment. In this sense there is never an “always.” And there is also never a “never.” No behavior is consistent. 

I am being heady again, so that I can explain something I really don’t feel like explaining. I want to go back to being in a non-linear place. A place of relief for me sometimes.

We get the cultural message that it’s not okay to just be. We feel that in order to be valuable we need to be doing. doing = value    being = coping out  It’s all about culture vs. nature, culture vs. nature, I am always seeing things from this perspective.

But… it is when we are being, and aware of being we become who we already are.

Wavering between: 

not wanting to decide a focus until it happens naturally. Let the focus emerge organically.

and:

My intention is to focus this month on sewing and working on my label seis doce. 612. So that I can be part of the winter fashion show in todos santos and start selling knit tops and dresses at the farmer’s markets when they open. I am starting by going to my sewing place tomorrow while a family friend/babysitter takes care of Emilio. Let’s see where that takes me.

Being an artist is an exercise in being myself. Which is dropping into the constant stream of selves flowing out of me. And having the courage and stubbornness to have them be heard.

Lists

ZOELAB DAY 31

Sometimes I am too tired to write anything but a list.

Latest Firsts

making granola

pooping in the potty

mopping entire floor

imaginary friend

falling asleep in bed for nap

...

Projects I want to do this year

write, act, direct an improv-based web sitcom pilot 

get back into playing music/recording project with garafone

art for life planning

create fashion line for winter fashion show/launch seis-doce

plant vegetable and herb garden

tile and paint bathroom and kitchen

...

Emilio spoken phrases

paris-y

i feel a little bit sad and a little stressed out because i broke my camera

you look like a bird flying

can you teach me yoga?

...

art forms 

I am thinking of focusing on

for the month of october

sewing

music

video

...

themes to organize posts around

home

inspiration

mexico

happiness

art & creativity

projects

culture vs. nature

...

Emilio’s   Favorite rock songs by  ladyrockers

i love rock n roll by joan jett

(he sings: put another dime in the juice box baby)

the movies ruined my love life 

by social service

(he says: the movies ruined my bug’s life)

cherry bomb by the runaways

(he calls them the runways)

huffer by the breeders

...