Hey, y'all!
In anticipation of a HUGE project I am doing in 2016- currently I am in pre-production mode- it incorporates all my various aspects: writing, singing, composing, acting, video, blogging, screenwriting, novel writing, playwrighting, and comedy- I am also taing the Writer's Digest "platform building challenge." What's a platform, you ask? This is! :) Meaning, for me "as a writer," I use this blog to exercise my particular voice and engage with readers in a personally communicative way differently than, say, in my one woman shows or scripts or novels. SO!
DAY ONE:
WHO AM I
(as a writer)
Name (as used in byline): Erin Muir
*different than my performer/ actress/ singer name, which is Erin Carere. I know, it's like, wait,
so there are two Erins? No. There are a thousand Erins. :) But someone once convinced me that
I should market myself differently for each area of my skills, so I use Erin Muir for all things
writing and Erin Carere for all things performing.
Position(s): Award winning playwright, screenwriter, award winning short film producer, novelist, poet, published short story writer, essayist, blogger. Comedian who has appeared at The Comedy Store, Flappers. Writer and performer of one woman shows, most recently, "StandUpera." Ghostwriter and Editor for books by self-help gurus. Life coach, relationship coach, radio show host.
Skill(s): Screenwriting; stand up and sketch comedy; improv; creative writing (poetry and
fiction); playwrighting; copywriting; video and film production; theater production;
blogging; publicity; problem solving; idea generation; public
speaking; community building; teaching; mentoring.
Social media platforms (active): Facebook; Twitter
URL(s): www.worldoferin.com, www.erinthepisces.blogspot.com
Accomplishments: Winner, "Best Comedy Short" at the Hollywood & Vine Film Festival, for "Cake!". Winner, "Pick of the Fringe," at Minnesota Fringe Festival, for play "My Life as a Phone Psychic." Winner, "Best Female Performer of 2010" by Rockwired magazine for songwriting on "poets lovely daughter." Host, Radio Show, WIDE OPEN, on LA Talk Radio 2008-2010, 12Radio 2014-2015. Performed comedy, music and one woman shows across the US.
Interests: Writing (all genres); acting, singing and performing (comedy, dramedy, drama, crime procedurals, noir, rom com, musicals, adult contemporary music, standards, love ballads); reading (currently reading "Under Tiberius" by Nick Tosches and "You Too Can Have a Body Like Mine" by Alexandra Kleeman; The BBC's Sherlock Holmes; watching movies (all genres); yoga, meditation, spirituality; family (being a good domestic partner wifey and mom to my fur baby Henry); animal rescue; faith; fitness (especially walking, hiking, and barre class). She also collects four leaf (and five leaf) clovers, and has found hundreds across the world.
In one sentence, who am I? Erin Muir is a transmedia storyteller based in Los Angeles who travels the world in search of stories worth sharing, particularly those that tell of the triumph of the human spirit; a modern mystic who brings magical realism and potent storytelling to all her endeavors.
*****
Thursday, October 1, 2015
Tuesday, September 29, 2015
We Love Romantic Comedies- PART ONE
A few weeks ago, I discovered a long lost CD of the soundtrack a 1990's Rom Com, "French Kiss," starring Meg Ryan and Kevin Kline. It was a charming affair about a young woman (Meg Ryan) chasing down a cheating boyfriend to convince him SHE is the love of his life against the backdrop of Paris, the French countryside, and then French Riviera. She begrudgingly enlists the help of French hustler (Kevin Kline) and, as the two learn about each other, they fall in love.
"French Kiss," while perhaps in the second tier of great romantic comedies of the 90s AFTER the greats of, say, "Sleepless in Seattle," "When Harry Met Sally," etc., is, I think, MY favorite alongside "Before Sunrise." There is a certain innocence inherent to this film, one that gives you faith that if you just follow your heart and really be your quirky, irrational, irascible self, everything will work itself out and love will TRIUMPH!
I ask myself, though, WHY this movie? WHY does THIS movie stay with me more than any other Meg Ryan flick? She has so many greats- and ones that I just LOVE. I love Sleepless in Seattle, I love City of Angels, I love You've Got Mail. But for me, French Kiss takes the cake. (Or shall I say, "gateau." I won't lie- the soundtrack is a huge part of why I love this movie. I also have a passion for caper films and this movie has caper elements.
Maybe I love it because Kevin Kline is SUCH a bad boy, and then it turns out, he was never a bad boy at all, just a wronged and misunderstood boy, who, with the proper opportunity and love (and they go hand in hand in this film), doesn't exactly REFORM, but, um, well, learns a balance between the two...
Uh, oh...
Although I like to think of myself as a Meg Ryan, I'm pretty aware that I come off as more of a femme fatale. I have more Sharon Stone in me than Meg Ryan, but if I'm completely honest, romantic comedies are my favorite genre. I suppose we don't have as many Jean Harlows today (I'm raising my hand!) by which I mean, bad girls in romantic comedies. Well, I guess, we just don't have too many romantic comedies lately. Am I wrong?
Vogue recently included a list of its top 15 all-time romantic comedies... I have a feeling the author is obsessed with Audrey Hepburn (what fashionista in her right mind isn't!?) but I felt the list was like an hors d'ouevres... and, like so many "all time best" lists, focusing more on projects of recent times and not truly of all time. So I am adding some of MY top Romantic Comedies from recent times through the beginnings of film. I am not saying I am going to be anymore rounded out in my choices than the Vogue author. I was just inspired to use a list of some GREATS to talk about WHY WE LOVE ROMANTIC COMEDIES, especially in our 2015, rather post-innocence, everything-is-cycnical-if-not-satirical world.
I would add plays... but I intend for this blog to take you a few minutes to enjoy, not a few hours to pore over... I already keep thinking of other films to add to this list... and some of these films are movies special to ME because of the moment in time during which I saw them, instead of because of their "quality" as films... But when we make a "best" or "favorite" list, we are just inspiring others to fall in love- no pun intended! So, if you haven't seen any of the following on MY list, please seek these films out and fall in love. :)
So!
ALSO, some of these might err toward the side of dramedies. I am not including favorite romantic dramas, such as "Out of Africa," although, trust me, I WANT to. But a few of these films do not fit into the category of romantic COMEDY quite so nice and neatly... so.
Only Lovers Left Alive
by Jim Jarmusch, starring Tilda Swinton and Tom Hiddleston
2013
Adam and Eve are vampires whose love has already lasted centuries... although I am not particularly one for the vampire genre of stories, THIS one had me sitting in the theater loving the way an old married couple (but who are eternally young and beautiful) have to keep finding reasons to get up every day... er... night... and love each other. Swinton and Hiddleston have a chemistry that reminds me of Hepburn and... a depressed Tracy, and while most romantic comedies of the last few years seem to want to insult the intelligence of the viewer and pretend that we don't live in a culture of fear but of tremendous denial, THIS film ventures into deeper, and darker mysteries.
WHY I LOVE IT:
One of the reasons these two have TRUE LOVE is because they are two of the only true lovers, true artists, true hearted people left alive... and they understand the world, and love, and art and music and living, in a way no one else does.
Chico Y Rita
animated feature film
2010
Chico is a young piano player with big dreams. Rita is a beautiful singer with an extraordinary voice. Music and romantic desire unites them, but their journey - in the tradition of the Latin ballad, the bolero - brings heartache and torment.
Seriously, this is a film about another lifelong love relationship that withstands not only drama and heartache, music and passion, but also separation and communism. But don't let that be the definition! This movie is one of the sexiest films I ever saw- NOT pornographic style sexy, but smouldering, sultry, seduction sexy. And the music is incredible.
Slumdog Millionaire
Directed by Danny Boyle
2008
A Mumbai teen, who grew up in the slums, becomes a contestant on the Indian version of "Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?" He is arrested under suspicion of cheating, and while being interrogated, events from his life history are shown which explain why he knows the answers.
I have spent time in India, not a ton, and I'm no master Yogi. But I am a human who keeps her eyes wide open and does what's in front of her... the indomitable spirit of Dev Patel's character reminded me of a young boy I met in Varanasi, who took me on a tour of the hidden secrets of this amazing Indian city. He was around 8, and a muslim boy, and he showed me abandoned forts and villas, trees of parakeets, and what it was like to make your way on your own in a world against you. This movie is fiction... maybe. Maybe not.
Above, a few of the kids I met on one of my journeys to India. Photo by my friend Rick Canter.
Once
by John Carney
2006
A modern-day musical about a busker and an immigrant and their eventful week in Dublin, as they write, rehearse and record songs that tell their love story.
Once, Glen Hansard (the star) hit on my 18 year old sister at a Damien Rice concert. That was fun. Anyway, aside from that little brush with fame, or as Glen would later admonish at the Oscars, "art," this film is stunning. A beautiful little gem that connects the pieces of love and hope even in the face of impossibility. Not all love is meant to last forever, but by happening "once," it remains in the stories of eternity, and therefore happens for all time as well as its own. This is one of those stories.
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
by Michel Gondry, written by Charlie Kaufman
2004
"How happy is the blameless vestal's lot! The world forgetting, by the world forgot. Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind! Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd." -- Alexander Pope
I think this is not only a film about love, but a film about waking up, spiritual enlightenment, and the working through the idea that even if we are spiritually awakened beings, we still have the workings and trappings of humanity unless we transcend the body and are absolved into heaven directly. And so, if we are, as I believe, born to be exactly who we are, some people become Ma, or Amma, or Jesus. And some people become mothers and lovers and fathers and sisters and brothers as well as saints. And what is a saint?
"What is a saint? A saint is someone who has achieved a remote human possibility. It is impossible to say what that possibility is. I think it has something to do with the energy of love. Contact with this energy results in the exercise of a kind of balance in the chaos of existence. A saint does not dissolve the chaos; if he did the world would have changed long ago. I do not think that a saint dissolves the chaos even for himself, for there is something arrogant and warlike in the notion of a man setting the universe in order. It is a kind of balance that is his glory. He rides the drifts like an escaped ski. His course is the caress of the hill. His track is a drawing of the snow in a moment of its particular arrangement with wind and rock. Something in him so loves the world that he gives himself to the laws of gravity and chance. Far from flying with the angels, he traces with the fidelity of a seismograph needle the state of the solid bloody landscape. His house is dangerous and finite, but he is at home in the world. He can love the shape of human beings, the fine and twisted shapes of the heart. It is good to have among us such men, such balancing monsters of love."
Leonard Cohen
Beautiful Losers
Well, I took a turn for the esoteric, as I usually do, and so now I am happy to dive into a TRIO that is a wonderful conversation about all these questions of love: pure love, true love, corporeal love, the love of the mind and the love of the heart, anger, resentment, possibility, and a desire to stay suspended forever, stardust as we are:
Of course, I am talking about the "BEFORE" trilogy- those wonderful films with Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke and directed by Richard Linklater.
Before Sunrise (1995)
The film follows Jesse (Ethan Hawke), a young American man, and Céline (Julie Delpy), a young French woman, who meet on a train and disembark in Vienna, where they spend the night walking around the city and getting to know each other.
Before Sunset (2004)
he film picks up the story in Before Sunrise of the young American man (Hawke) and French woman (Delpy) who spent a passionate night together in Vienna. Their paths intersect nine years later in Paris, and the film appears to take place in real time as they spend an afternoon together.
Before Midnight (2013)
Co-written by Linklater, Hawke and Delpy, the film picks up the story nine years after the events of Before Sunset; Jesse (Hawke) and Céline (Delpy) spend a summer vacation together in Greece.
I'd love to talk about each one individually, because they all mean so much to me, but as I am nearing the end of Part One, I will just talk about the trilogy itself. For the record, so far, my favorite among the three is Before Sunset. I think the reason is that I love the idea that love can redeem itself. And so, I will close out this part one by not really talking about the trilogy at all, but including a clip from youtube that captures the beauty of these films. Warning: CONTAINS SPOILERS
Okay, guys. Next installment includes:
Forgetting Sarah Marshall
City Lights
Bringing Up Baby
It Happened One Night
Princess Bride
and more!
until next time...
Here's looking at you, kid!
Wait. That's a drama.
Okay. How about...
"Baby, you are gonna miss that plane."
"I know."
"French Kiss," while perhaps in the second tier of great romantic comedies of the 90s AFTER the greats of, say, "Sleepless in Seattle," "When Harry Met Sally," etc., is, I think, MY favorite alongside "Before Sunrise." There is a certain innocence inherent to this film, one that gives you faith that if you just follow your heart and really be your quirky, irrational, irascible self, everything will work itself out and love will TRIUMPH!
I ask myself, though, WHY this movie? WHY does THIS movie stay with me more than any other Meg Ryan flick? She has so many greats- and ones that I just LOVE. I love Sleepless in Seattle, I love City of Angels, I love You've Got Mail. But for me, French Kiss takes the cake. (Or shall I say, "gateau." I won't lie- the soundtrack is a huge part of why I love this movie. I also have a passion for caper films and this movie has caper elements.
Maybe I love it because Kevin Kline is SUCH a bad boy, and then it turns out, he was never a bad boy at all, just a wronged and misunderstood boy, who, with the proper opportunity and love (and they go hand in hand in this film), doesn't exactly REFORM, but, um, well, learns a balance between the two...
Uh, oh...
Although I like to think of myself as a Meg Ryan, I'm pretty aware that I come off as more of a femme fatale. I have more Sharon Stone in me than Meg Ryan, but if I'm completely honest, romantic comedies are my favorite genre. I suppose we don't have as many Jean Harlows today (I'm raising my hand!) by which I mean, bad girls in romantic comedies. Well, I guess, we just don't have too many romantic comedies lately. Am I wrong?
Vogue recently included a list of its top 15 all-time romantic comedies... I have a feeling the author is obsessed with Audrey Hepburn (what fashionista in her right mind isn't!?) but I felt the list was like an hors d'ouevres... and, like so many "all time best" lists, focusing more on projects of recent times and not truly of all time. So I am adding some of MY top Romantic Comedies from recent times through the beginnings of film. I am not saying I am going to be anymore rounded out in my choices than the Vogue author. I was just inspired to use a list of some GREATS to talk about WHY WE LOVE ROMANTIC COMEDIES, especially in our 2015, rather post-innocence, everything-is-cycnical-if-not-satirical world.
I would add plays... but I intend for this blog to take you a few minutes to enjoy, not a few hours to pore over... I already keep thinking of other films to add to this list... and some of these films are movies special to ME because of the moment in time during which I saw them, instead of because of their "quality" as films... But when we make a "best" or "favorite" list, we are just inspiring others to fall in love- no pun intended! So, if you haven't seen any of the following on MY list, please seek these films out and fall in love. :)
So!
ALSO, some of these might err toward the side of dramedies. I am not including favorite romantic dramas, such as "Out of Africa," although, trust me, I WANT to. But a few of these films do not fit into the category of romantic COMEDY quite so nice and neatly... so.
Only Lovers Left Alive
by Jim Jarmusch, starring Tilda Swinton and Tom Hiddleston
2013
Adam and Eve are vampires whose love has already lasted centuries... although I am not particularly one for the vampire genre of stories, THIS one had me sitting in the theater loving the way an old married couple (but who are eternally young and beautiful) have to keep finding reasons to get up every day... er... night... and love each other. Swinton and Hiddleston have a chemistry that reminds me of Hepburn and... a depressed Tracy, and while most romantic comedies of the last few years seem to want to insult the intelligence of the viewer and pretend that we don't live in a culture of fear but of tremendous denial, THIS film ventures into deeper, and darker mysteries.
WHY I LOVE IT:
One of the reasons these two have TRUE LOVE is because they are two of the only true lovers, true artists, true hearted people left alive... and they understand the world, and love, and art and music and living, in a way no one else does.
Chico Y Rita
animated feature film
2010
Chico is a young piano player with big dreams. Rita is a beautiful singer with an extraordinary voice. Music and romantic desire unites them, but their journey - in the tradition of the Latin ballad, the bolero - brings heartache and torment.
Seriously, this is a film about another lifelong love relationship that withstands not only drama and heartache, music and passion, but also separation and communism. But don't let that be the definition! This movie is one of the sexiest films I ever saw- NOT pornographic style sexy, but smouldering, sultry, seduction sexy. And the music is incredible.
Slumdog Millionaire
Directed by Danny Boyle
2008
A Mumbai teen, who grew up in the slums, becomes a contestant on the Indian version of "Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?" He is arrested under suspicion of cheating, and while being interrogated, events from his life history are shown which explain why he knows the answers.
I have spent time in India, not a ton, and I'm no master Yogi. But I am a human who keeps her eyes wide open and does what's in front of her... the indomitable spirit of Dev Patel's character reminded me of a young boy I met in Varanasi, who took me on a tour of the hidden secrets of this amazing Indian city. He was around 8, and a muslim boy, and he showed me abandoned forts and villas, trees of parakeets, and what it was like to make your way on your own in a world against you. This movie is fiction... maybe. Maybe not.
Above, a few of the kids I met on one of my journeys to India. Photo by my friend Rick Canter.
Once
by John Carney
2006
A modern-day musical about a busker and an immigrant and their eventful week in Dublin, as they write, rehearse and record songs that tell their love story.
Once, Glen Hansard (the star) hit on my 18 year old sister at a Damien Rice concert. That was fun. Anyway, aside from that little brush with fame, or as Glen would later admonish at the Oscars, "art," this film is stunning. A beautiful little gem that connects the pieces of love and hope even in the face of impossibility. Not all love is meant to last forever, but by happening "once," it remains in the stories of eternity, and therefore happens for all time as well as its own. This is one of those stories.
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
by Michel Gondry, written by Charlie Kaufman
2004
"How happy is the blameless vestal's lot! The world forgetting, by the world forgot. Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind! Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd." -- Alexander Pope
I think this is not only a film about love, but a film about waking up, spiritual enlightenment, and the working through the idea that even if we are spiritually awakened beings, we still have the workings and trappings of humanity unless we transcend the body and are absolved into heaven directly. And so, if we are, as I believe, born to be exactly who we are, some people become Ma, or Amma, or Jesus. And some people become mothers and lovers and fathers and sisters and brothers as well as saints. And what is a saint?
"What is a saint? A saint is someone who has achieved a remote human possibility. It is impossible to say what that possibility is. I think it has something to do with the energy of love. Contact with this energy results in the exercise of a kind of balance in the chaos of existence. A saint does not dissolve the chaos; if he did the world would have changed long ago. I do not think that a saint dissolves the chaos even for himself, for there is something arrogant and warlike in the notion of a man setting the universe in order. It is a kind of balance that is his glory. He rides the drifts like an escaped ski. His course is the caress of the hill. His track is a drawing of the snow in a moment of its particular arrangement with wind and rock. Something in him so loves the world that he gives himself to the laws of gravity and chance. Far from flying with the angels, he traces with the fidelity of a seismograph needle the state of the solid bloody landscape. His house is dangerous and finite, but he is at home in the world. He can love the shape of human beings, the fine and twisted shapes of the heart. It is good to have among us such men, such balancing monsters of love."
Leonard Cohen
Beautiful Losers
Well, I took a turn for the esoteric, as I usually do, and so now I am happy to dive into a TRIO that is a wonderful conversation about all these questions of love: pure love, true love, corporeal love, the love of the mind and the love of the heart, anger, resentment, possibility, and a desire to stay suspended forever, stardust as we are:
Of course, I am talking about the "BEFORE" trilogy- those wonderful films with Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke and directed by Richard Linklater.
Before Sunrise (1995)
The film follows Jesse (Ethan Hawke), a young American man, and Céline (Julie Delpy), a young French woman, who meet on a train and disembark in Vienna, where they spend the night walking around the city and getting to know each other.
Before Sunset (2004)
he film picks up the story in Before Sunrise of the young American man (Hawke) and French woman (Delpy) who spent a passionate night together in Vienna. Their paths intersect nine years later in Paris, and the film appears to take place in real time as they spend an afternoon together.
Before Midnight (2013)
Co-written by Linklater, Hawke and Delpy, the film picks up the story nine years after the events of Before Sunset; Jesse (Hawke) and Céline (Delpy) spend a summer vacation together in Greece.
I'd love to talk about each one individually, because they all mean so much to me, but as I am nearing the end of Part One, I will just talk about the trilogy itself. For the record, so far, my favorite among the three is Before Sunset. I think the reason is that I love the idea that love can redeem itself. And so, I will close out this part one by not really talking about the trilogy at all, but including a clip from youtube that captures the beauty of these films. Warning: CONTAINS SPOILERS
Okay, guys. Next installment includes:
Forgetting Sarah Marshall
City Lights
Bringing Up Baby
It Happened One Night
Princess Bride
and more!
until next time...
Here's looking at you, kid!
Wait. That's a drama.
Okay. How about...
"Baby, you are gonna miss that plane."
"I know."
Saturday, September 26, 2015
Rodents of Unusual Size? I don't believe they exist.
Here's one from the ROUS Files.
Ugh.
Anyone who knows me well knows I HATE rats. In fact, one of the reasons I have a hard time living in my beloved NYC is because of all the rats. Man, oh man, I must have been a victim of the bubonic plague in a past life or something, because I hate rats. I mean, I "love" all of God's creatures, but that doesn't mean I want rats anywhere near my personage.
I'm not the biggest fan of cockroaches, either, but I don't necessarily jump on the couch when a cockroach runs by. I gird my loins, go to Target, and buy roach traps.
I don't have a problem with spiders. Not at all. Weird, huh? Or snakes. No fear. Not saying I want to walk in on a Python, but not scared, either.
Anyway, so, I believe (and whether I believe it erroneously or not, I continue to believe) that if you keep a very clean house, you will not have pests. So I clean often and thoroughly. Of course, I *have* lived in Florida and Mexico, and so know that to a certain extent, we are really pitching tents in bug territory and not vice versa, but still. I like to joke, whenever I see a bug I'm not fond of in my home, that they don't pay rent, so they're not allowed to stay.
Now, Carlo and I share a back parking lot with a famous, fancy, spendy sushi restaurant here in Los Angeles. I won't name it because in no way do I want to give a bad name to them. I've never eaten there but I've seen the celebrities ducking in and out through the back door, and all the valet guys and chefs, with whom I interact pretty regularly (we share dumpsters) are incredibly nice, except for one dishwasher who is always winking at me and giving me a hand gesture which I think means something along the lines of "voulez-vous coucher avec moi," I'm not frightened, by the way, those of you who may advise me to stay safe... he's about 4'10" and 90 pounds and 70 years old and I'm pretty sure I could pop him pretty good if not outrun him. He's just trying his luck.
Okay, back to the famous sushi restaurant. It's still a restaurant, and while they do have an "A" rating from the City of Los Angeles, they still have back dumpsters full of leftover food stuffs AND we are still in a pretty cockroach ridden city, here, this city of Angels, and so...
there are cockroaches in my back parking lot.
Uuuuuguggghghghghhghggh.
Now, out apartment is tidy. It isn't perfect, but it is cleaned regularly and ruthlessly by yours truly. But when I moved in, I saw those suckers by the back dumpsters and thought, oh, hell, no. Oh, no. Those MF's are not coming anywhere near me. And I bought roach traps and put them outside by the back door as a sort of insurance policy.
The roach traps keep disappearing.
I don't know if someone is stealing them (possible. I have awakened twice now around 5 in the morning to see people dumpster diving.) I am hoping it's not some local cat taking it. One of my friends suggested it might be the roaches themselves, carrying it off to their McMansion behind Target.
Carlo thought it might be a neighbor who doesn't want to buy their own, or, a neighbor who tosses them out because they are an eyesore. (Our building is like the last broke-a$$ artist living quarters in an otherwise gentrified neighborhood.)
At any rate, I was cleaning in our apartment and remarking about this one time, when I moved in, I was cleaning and found some things that Carlo swears he had never seen nor would any of his roommates have ever been caught dead with. I can't tell you what it is because I promised him I would never tell anyone, specifically my parents, that I had found any kind of drug paraphernalia whatsoever in the house. (See what I did there?) He's a former law enforcement guy. There's no way it was him. What was more frightening to me was that no one had ever cleaned out the back of this particular closet since Carlo moved into this place five years ago. Which means probably the landlord never actually cleaned it. Ever. More stories about that some other time, but this morning, I was just doing a quick sweep and mop and relating the story about that time and talking about the missing traps when Carlo pipes up,
"You know, Neil DeGrasse Tyson says that all the scientists say that when, not if, but when, because it is inevitable, when humans go extinct, the species that will run the planet will be rats. And cockroaches. And not only will they thrive, but the will grow to be huge, like human sized."
"Rodents of unusual size? I don't believe they exist," I quoted.
Carlo, and Italian, has not yet seen that movie, and so he believed I was being sincere.
"Oh, yes. Giant rats, and giant cockroaches, too."
Then I did it. I let myself imagine that as a reality.
"This is the worst day of my life," I said. "Worse than the day I was in Cuernavaca (Mexico) and saw the flying three inch cockroach hover over my burrito."
My mind instantly flew to a 1950s style horror movie: "Giant Rats Vs. Giant Cockroaches."
Ugh. Happy Saturday morning! Now THAT oughtta inspire some house cleaning, eh?!?!?
Ugh.
Anyone who knows me well knows I HATE rats. In fact, one of the reasons I have a hard time living in my beloved NYC is because of all the rats. Man, oh man, I must have been a victim of the bubonic plague in a past life or something, because I hate rats. I mean, I "love" all of God's creatures, but that doesn't mean I want rats anywhere near my personage.
I'm not the biggest fan of cockroaches, either, but I don't necessarily jump on the couch when a cockroach runs by. I gird my loins, go to Target, and buy roach traps.
I don't have a problem with spiders. Not at all. Weird, huh? Or snakes. No fear. Not saying I want to walk in on a Python, but not scared, either.
Anyway, so, I believe (and whether I believe it erroneously or not, I continue to believe) that if you keep a very clean house, you will not have pests. So I clean often and thoroughly. Of course, I *have* lived in Florida and Mexico, and so know that to a certain extent, we are really pitching tents in bug territory and not vice versa, but still. I like to joke, whenever I see a bug I'm not fond of in my home, that they don't pay rent, so they're not allowed to stay.
Now, Carlo and I share a back parking lot with a famous, fancy, spendy sushi restaurant here in Los Angeles. I won't name it because in no way do I want to give a bad name to them. I've never eaten there but I've seen the celebrities ducking in and out through the back door, and all the valet guys and chefs, with whom I interact pretty regularly (we share dumpsters) are incredibly nice, except for one dishwasher who is always winking at me and giving me a hand gesture which I think means something along the lines of "voulez-vous coucher avec moi," I'm not frightened, by the way, those of you who may advise me to stay safe... he's about 4'10" and 90 pounds and 70 years old and I'm pretty sure I could pop him pretty good if not outrun him. He's just trying his luck.
Okay, back to the famous sushi restaurant. It's still a restaurant, and while they do have an "A" rating from the City of Los Angeles, they still have back dumpsters full of leftover food stuffs AND we are still in a pretty cockroach ridden city, here, this city of Angels, and so...
there are cockroaches in my back parking lot.
Uuuuuguggghghghghhghggh.
Now, out apartment is tidy. It isn't perfect, but it is cleaned regularly and ruthlessly by yours truly. But when I moved in, I saw those suckers by the back dumpsters and thought, oh, hell, no. Oh, no. Those MF's are not coming anywhere near me. And I bought roach traps and put them outside by the back door as a sort of insurance policy.
The roach traps keep disappearing.
I don't know if someone is stealing them (possible. I have awakened twice now around 5 in the morning to see people dumpster diving.) I am hoping it's not some local cat taking it. One of my friends suggested it might be the roaches themselves, carrying it off to their McMansion behind Target.
Carlo thought it might be a neighbor who doesn't want to buy their own, or, a neighbor who tosses them out because they are an eyesore. (Our building is like the last broke-a$$ artist living quarters in an otherwise gentrified neighborhood.)
At any rate, I was cleaning in our apartment and remarking about this one time, when I moved in, I was cleaning and found some things that Carlo swears he had never seen nor would any of his roommates have ever been caught dead with. I can't tell you what it is because I promised him I would never tell anyone, specifically my parents, that I had found any kind of drug paraphernalia whatsoever in the house. (See what I did there?) He's a former law enforcement guy. There's no way it was him. What was more frightening to me was that no one had ever cleaned out the back of this particular closet since Carlo moved into this place five years ago. Which means probably the landlord never actually cleaned it. Ever. More stories about that some other time, but this morning, I was just doing a quick sweep and mop and relating the story about that time and talking about the missing traps when Carlo pipes up,
"You know, Neil DeGrasse Tyson says that all the scientists say that when, not if, but when, because it is inevitable, when humans go extinct, the species that will run the planet will be rats. And cockroaches. And not only will they thrive, but the will grow to be huge, like human sized."
"Rodents of unusual size? I don't believe they exist," I quoted.
Carlo, and Italian, has not yet seen that movie, and so he believed I was being sincere.
"Oh, yes. Giant rats, and giant cockroaches, too."
Then I did it. I let myself imagine that as a reality.
"This is the worst day of my life," I said. "Worse than the day I was in Cuernavaca (Mexico) and saw the flying three inch cockroach hover over my burrito."
My mind instantly flew to a 1950s style horror movie: "Giant Rats Vs. Giant Cockroaches."
Ugh. Happy Saturday morning! Now THAT oughtta inspire some house cleaning, eh?!?!?
Sunday, September 20, 2015
The monks are dreaming of you- a poem, 9/20/15
The monks are dreaming of you
Ensconced in light, bathed in sound,
The monks are dreaming.
Ensconced in light, bathed in sound,
The monks are dreaming.
Orange robes, snow capped scene,
A monk throws his head back, laughing,
Dreaming in daylight
A monk throws his head back, laughing,
Dreaming in daylight
Smoke from across a watery globe
His laughter, uncontrollable,
Waves of monotonous droning on
His laughter, uncontrollable,
Waves of monotonous droning on
As you, of the people,
Of computers and cities
Of plastic rules
Live by the card, die by the card,
A forest of souls lost for trees
Statues of birds and no song on the airs
Struggle to breathe
Thinking everyone else's horrible thoughts
Thinking you imagined your life yourself
And what you imagined was never this
Never this life you actually lead
Of computers and cities
Of plastic rules
Live by the card, die by the card,
A forest of souls lost for trees
Statues of birds and no song on the airs
Struggle to breathe
Thinking everyone else's horrible thoughts
Thinking you imagined your life yourself
And what you imagined was never this
Never this life you actually lead
And somewhere your ancient soul remembers
That moment the star that was you, and me, and you again for you are me,
The moment it burst out of the furious silence of space
Into endless particles of dust and storm
And this dust became ladies and men
And boys and birds and gold and cards and rules and laws and
That moment the star that was you, and me, and you again for you are me,
The moment it burst out of the furious silence of space
Into endless particles of dust and storm
And this dust became ladies and men
And boys and birds and gold and cards and rules and laws and
Somewhere
The monk is laughing,
The sun leaving his body,
And in his breath he yet dies
And in his death still he dreams
The sun leaving his body,
And in his breath he yet dies
And in his death still he dreams
And in his dreams,
He looks into a mirror upon your own eyes
And begs you to love him in return.
He looks into a mirror upon your own eyes
And begs you to love him in return.
by Erin
September 20th, 2015
Monday, August 31, 2015
old poems
A poem from an old journal. I was 19 or 20 years old an never capitalized "I." Oh, just read a little more along in the journal and based on the boyfriend (haha. ugh.) I was 20. It didn't work out with that guy... but to be honest, I don't think I was writing about him. Like all poets, I was writing to the future.
"i desire to know French as a native language
if that is the Tongue that could keep you close,
i desire to sing you Lullabies
if those were the Melodies with which i could set you free.
if i could just Hold your hand and trust what was between us,
i feel that the vacancy of my life could end
flashing, sparkling, bright.
In my nighttime, i Hear the quiet voice hearkening
and my soul yearns to reach your country
for i am borne of many as are you
and in our breath that lands of our birth
intermingle and in these dreams and kisses
we answer and i fly
stringing smiles along
the pine bristles against a window
smoke in my horizon
and the incense of the sea
whether it be sunny or dark or dry or floods
the memories of
oh
how i love you so
and oh god
even in my drowsy state
my muscles tense and relax to moments of you
and years of my life
are miles away, dear, and All i
truthfully, honestly desire is to be always falling into you."
"i desire to know French as a native language
if that is the Tongue that could keep you close,
i desire to sing you Lullabies
if those were the Melodies with which i could set you free.
if i could just Hold your hand and trust what was between us,
i feel that the vacancy of my life could end
flashing, sparkling, bright.
In my nighttime, i Hear the quiet voice hearkening
and my soul yearns to reach your country
for i am borne of many as are you
and in our breath that lands of our birth
intermingle and in these dreams and kisses
we answer and i fly
stringing smiles along
the pine bristles against a window
smoke in my horizon
and the incense of the sea
whether it be sunny or dark or dry or floods
the memories of
oh
how i love you so
and oh god
even in my drowsy state
my muscles tense and relax to moments of you
and years of my life
are miles away, dear, and All i
truthfully, honestly desire is to be always falling into you."
Saturday, August 29, 2015
AUGUST, LA COUNTY: Part Three
Hey everyone!
I don't know if you've been following the interweaving threads, but if you haven't read August, LA County Parts 1 and 2, you might want to only because you might be lost if you don't.
I don't want to get too terribly into details about why, from my late teens through early twenties, I missed out on the things that normal young women do: normal college life, normal relationships, normal career pursuing. Mine wouldn't have been normal actually, because I was going to either NYU or Manhattan School of Music or USC. But instead, I developed bad eating disorders, bad depression, bad relationships. Blah, blah, blah. You can read or see either of my one woman shows, The One or StandUpera (which I MAY be performing again in early 2016! Stay tuned!) to hear all about the tragedy and hilarity of my story. But I do want to say that during this time, instead of going to school to become a movie and Broadway star, I did different things: I performed in a burlesque cabaret called Le Cirque Rouge in Minneapolis as a regular, sometimes four times a week. I toured the country and Europe as a songwriter, and with my band. I wrote plays, one of which, called "My Life as a Phone Psychic, which I wrote before I eeeeever worked as a phone psychic but just did tarot readings for people, won some awards and which I then turned into a novel and it was by pursuing publication of that novel that I met Mark Husson and started working at 12listen.com- as a phone psychic. :) How's that for psychic?! I self-released albums and directed short films and eventually moved to Los Angeles to pursue the big dream. Oh! And before that I was with this crazy German, going to weddings in castles and being full of drama- more about that soon enough.
So, while here in Los Angeles, I've had the usual run around stories of people trying to "help" me with my career. I will soon be blogging other parts of that one woman show again, The One, and will include some vignettes that share those stories.
When I very first moved here, I met a guy named... uh... let's just call him Tiger. That wasn't his real name, of course. But in reality, he is a nice enough guy. As Tom Waits once said to him, "A lotta guys are nice guys. I wanna know what I'm dealing with here." Well, he was nice. He is nice. I mean, as nice as any human who works in the entertainment industry for 40 years can be. Which is that weird combination of jaded and ever-hopeful. (Have you ever seen the Robert Altman movie "The Player," starring Tim Robbins? Like that guy only older.) I met this fellow at a networking party happy hour in Beverly Hills. If you're already rolling your eyes, go for it. The thing is, business has to happen. And if you're new to town, you gotta meet people. And I always like to be open minded about people and opportunities as much as possible.
So this guy, Tiger, he and his friend were chatting with me and my friend and he found out I was a singer. He agreed to listen to my demo and potentially offer career counseling- he had been a manager for some VERY famous acts- and of course, I hoped, more. And by more, I mean, representing me as a manager and getting me signed to a record deal as the next Annie Lennox.
To be fair:
At this time, I had starting wrecking my voice, vocally. It was after I had been bulimic a long time and was in rock bands screaming in clubs with bad sound. I was singing way too low and relying on very bad vocal habits to get me through a performance.
That is to say,
later, when I started rebuilding my voice by using opera technique and remembered how BEAUTIFUL my Broadway/ opera/ big ballad a la Celine Dion voice is, well, it would have been a WAY better time to meet Tiger as a PROFESSIONAL SINGER. And I met him when I was still in my 20s. I hate to say it, because I don't want it to be real for me, but each passing year after the age of, oh, say, 21, people are suspect as to why they haven't heard of you yet.
Unless you look like Susan Boyle and are a virgin (and she IS a wonderful singer!). Unless you have a story. I mean, hell, I gotta story now, but the story then was tragic but without the turnaround.
Anyway, so there I was, spending time with Tiger. He introduced me to a backup singer to the stars. He brought me to fancy Hollywood places like the Polo Lounge (okay, that's Beverly Hills) where we mingled with stars (like Keanu Reeves. I don't know how it is possible, but he is actually even MORE beautiful in person.) Eventually, he told me he wanted to discuss my career and I said "GREAT!" He said he would "send a car Friday night at 8."
The minute he said THAT, I started to worry. Why didn't he say, come into my office and bring your guitar? Let's meet Friday at 3 at a recording studio and play with some musicians? I mean, I was still hopeful enough to look for the best but I had now been in a band for a while and knew a LOT about how men operate. (Me and six boys in a tour van on and off for a few years. Yeah. I learned some stuff.)
Not only that, but I didn't want to mislead the guy. I didn't want him to think I was "like that." I didn't want to insinuate more than I was comfortable with.
BUT I also didn't want to be projecting on to him. And I thought I might be! I thought I might be projecting all my big bad wolf man fears onto him, fears I had well learned through a few other sticky situations (pun intended. Ew!) and through the years I did massage and had some weird clients AND through a few very controlling and manipulative and emotionally (and sometimes more) abusive boyfriends. (Learnin' a lot about me now, aren't ya?)
So, I decided to go ahead and just see.
The car picked me up and he was smoking away. I hate cigarette smoke. Like with a passion. Like I am kind of hardcore about not being around cigarettes unless you're my neighbor lady who reminds me of my grandma and smokes while she is watering the plants. But otherwise? ew. No.
Anyway. We arrived at what was at that time THE restaurant on the Sunset Strip, and they showed us to a table in the middle of the restaurant where everyone could see us.
I guess one upshot of this was that I was pretty enough to be considered a trophy wife.
Oh that is such an anti-feminist thought! Eeek! Don't tell Jane Mag, but also, please don't think of me like Ann Coulter. It's just a weird thought I have left over from the years I was an ugly duckling. If only that little girl could see she really was a swan after all
blah blah blah
back to the story.
So we sat down to dinner and the conversation was not at all about my music, my singing, or my career. It was about wine, and LA, and stories from his life. A very handsome man passed by, smiled at me, and then stopped.
"Tiger!" [sic]
He invited us to join him and some of his clients in the lounge for drinks after dinner. After he left, Tiger looked at me apologetically. He was sorry, but this particular man was an attorney- actually, according to Tiger, he was one of the biggest in town (who knows, maybe that was true.) and we should really stop by and have drinks, just one, just to be social.
I was relieved, and intrigued. See, the attorney was closer to my age and very handsome. Me likey-d what me saw-y-ed. I realized there was no possibility there, of course, because the Minnesota Mind of Erin would never go on a date with the friend of another guy who was trying to date me, and now it was VERY clear that that's exactly what Tiger was trying to do. He wasn't trying to help me with my career, but he also wasn't trying to only get laid, either. He was asking me about children, and driving up to Napa, and etc. All that LA stuff. Did I like wines? How about spas in Palm Springs?
Sigh. The answer would have been, yes, but with a man who I was attracted to- perhaps one a little more age appropriate (sorry, I know that's a touchy subject for people, but I have ALWAYS imagined myself with someone fairly close to my age. Ask me when I'm 50, if I'm not married to my man, then I may be a cougar. But until then, I like relative closeness in age. And this is partially because at this point I had already dated primarily older men, guys around ten years older than me, anyway. And I didn't want that. And Tiger was my Dad's age, or maybe a year older.)
We finished dinner and went to the lounge where the attorney introduced us to everyone at the table. They were there for someone's birthday and my friend Tiger told everyone not only that I was a singer, but that I had been trained as an opera singer and I would LOVE to sing happy birthday. So, I did. I sang it a l'opera. :)
And the lounge went quiet while I sang.
I silenced one of the hottest bars in Hollywood.
And then it erupted in applause.
No one is used to having someone sing "Happy Birthday" in Italian loud enough to cut through the house music on the Sunset Strip, I guess.
A woman- no- nay- not a woman- an ethereal fairy tale looking queen- rose from the end of the table.
"My dear," she said, "That was marvelous. Come sit next to me."
I did. She was gorgeous. Blonde, buxom, plastic surgeried, but beautiful. I guessed her age around 38 although later her friend told me she was 52. She introduced herself as the widow of so and so, (a famous comedian.) She asked when Tiger and I would be getting married.
"Oh, no, no," I said, "I don't really want to get married."
She smiled.
"My dear," she said, "That is because you don't know what marriage can do for you. But with cheekbones like that? And I'd guess you're closer to 30 than 20? You should start thinking about it, fast. Tell you what. Why don't you come over to my house for a nightcap and I will show you what marriage has done for me."
She rose, then, almost hovering above her chair.
She clapped her hands.
"Everyone, we're all going to my house for a drink!"
The table erupted in cheers
We crammed into a few town cars that wound their way up the Hollywood Hills. Her house was incredible- the pool was built to look like a naturally occurring laguna. She showed me her Picassos, her Modiglianis. I have to admit, I was incredibly impressed.
"You see, dear, you see marriage as something permanent," she said. "But it isn't. It's a business."
I wasn't against what she was saying, nor did I disagree. I had studied love and romance and marriage and Eleanor of Aquitane. I knew that marrying for love was a very new phenomenon. I knew that more marriages ended up as business deals far more than was even intended.
But I wasn't interested in marriage as a business. I wasn't interested in using my looks, fading or not, (by the way: they were not fading, not by half! If I take after the women on my mother's side of the family, and I believe I do, I haven't even started! They were ALL downright GORGEOUS in their 40s and 50s!) as currency, as bait.
I had already learned from my previous relationship- and not by intention but by accident- marry for money, you earn every penny. I had learned that in EVERY marriage- you earn every penny. So in my mind, I already knew I was going to take care of myself, with or without a partner. I was already done with the illusion that a MAN was going to come save me from my life. That just wasn't what I wanted. Ironically, what I wanted was a CAREER to come save me from my life, and at this moment, I have a man AND a career that are intertwined, but no one needs saving and no one is a victim and no one is a savior.
You know, whoever you are, however your life works out, that's your life. I think it's great as long as it works for you, or even if it doesn't. It's not for me to say what should be the case for everyone. I'm not steeped in dogma (I think.) I'm just reflecting on what has happened in my life and what I would like and what works for me.
So, meanwhile, the cute attorney? He was really interested. Me, too. We spent the night talking about art, about music, about literature. He was so my kinda guy. Neither of us drank much, but then we DID go skinny dipping in the laguna pool. This was making poor Tiger fume. And I don't blame him. He was watching me go for a younger man, potentially a more successful man. Tiger should have been going for my goddess hostess trying to teach me how to marry. That was only a 5-10 year age difference. But her boyfriend came over after work- her 24 year old bartending boyfriend. Ah.
Finally, Tiger had had enough. As I was putting my clothes back on (it was a whole gang of skinny dippers, not just me and the lawyer boy! It was me, lawyer boy, a hair stylist, his boyfriend, and another girl.) he informed me that "we needed to talk" and he used that TONE very LOUDLY in front of EVERYONE to let them all know that ERIN WOULD BE UNAVAILABLE FOR LATE NIGHT TACOS or CHICKEN AND WAFFLES or WHATEVER THEY WERE PLANNING ON DOING.
We walked into the kitchen. I followed him like a high school kid in trouble with her Dad. Yeah. It was weird.
Then he turned around and stuck his tongue in my mouth. Just like that. It was like a middle school dance kiss. Only with the taste of cigarettes. Which made everything even weirder.
Then he asked when I would make time for "us." I apologized. He said he had called the car and it was waiting and he would take me home. We were silent on the ride home, but as he dropped me off he said, "I'll call you tomorrow, okay kiddo?"
He did call the next day and asked about us. Would I like to take his Porsche up to wine country?
I did potentially a really dumb thing. I told him that I wasn't romantically interested or attracted to him. I told him I had honestly thought he was interested in my career as a singer and was trying to help me, and that I liked him "as a friend" (again, how high school) but that was it.
He was very honest with me. He told me I needed the right song, the right music, the right hair, the right look, the right fans, the right team. And he wished me luck.
A couple years later I consulted with him about my album, poet's lovely daughter. He told me the album was indie and cool, but had nothing to do with me as a singer. He told me I should focus on being more like Celine Dion. He was right. I didn't listen, but he was right.
A couple years after that, I heard from the friend he had been with the night we all met. That friend told me that Tiger had gotten married and was very happy.
I was very happy for him.
I never saw the attorney again. Or if I have, I never recognized him...
Strangely, my partner has a law degree... Could it be? No.... Really?
Haha just kidding. My guy is Italian. This guy was definitely not that. But I hope he's happy!
I don't know if you've been following the interweaving threads, but if you haven't read August, LA County Parts 1 and 2, you might want to only because you might be lost if you don't.
I don't want to get too terribly into details about why, from my late teens through early twenties, I missed out on the things that normal young women do: normal college life, normal relationships, normal career pursuing. Mine wouldn't have been normal actually, because I was going to either NYU or Manhattan School of Music or USC. But instead, I developed bad eating disorders, bad depression, bad relationships. Blah, blah, blah. You can read or see either of my one woman shows, The One or StandUpera (which I MAY be performing again in early 2016! Stay tuned!) to hear all about the tragedy and hilarity of my story. But I do want to say that during this time, instead of going to school to become a movie and Broadway star, I did different things: I performed in a burlesque cabaret called Le Cirque Rouge in Minneapolis as a regular, sometimes four times a week. I toured the country and Europe as a songwriter, and with my band. I wrote plays, one of which, called "My Life as a Phone Psychic, which I wrote before I eeeeever worked as a phone psychic but just did tarot readings for people, won some awards and which I then turned into a novel and it was by pursuing publication of that novel that I met Mark Husson and started working at 12listen.com- as a phone psychic. :) How's that for psychic?! I self-released albums and directed short films and eventually moved to Los Angeles to pursue the big dream. Oh! And before that I was with this crazy German, going to weddings in castles and being full of drama- more about that soon enough.
So, while here in Los Angeles, I've had the usual run around stories of people trying to "help" me with my career. I will soon be blogging other parts of that one woman show again, The One, and will include some vignettes that share those stories.
When I very first moved here, I met a guy named... uh... let's just call him Tiger. That wasn't his real name, of course. But in reality, he is a nice enough guy. As Tom Waits once said to him, "A lotta guys are nice guys. I wanna know what I'm dealing with here." Well, he was nice. He is nice. I mean, as nice as any human who works in the entertainment industry for 40 years can be. Which is that weird combination of jaded and ever-hopeful. (Have you ever seen the Robert Altman movie "The Player," starring Tim Robbins? Like that guy only older.) I met this fellow at a networking party happy hour in Beverly Hills. If you're already rolling your eyes, go for it. The thing is, business has to happen. And if you're new to town, you gotta meet people. And I always like to be open minded about people and opportunities as much as possible.
So this guy, Tiger, he and his friend were chatting with me and my friend and he found out I was a singer. He agreed to listen to my demo and potentially offer career counseling- he had been a manager for some VERY famous acts- and of course, I hoped, more. And by more, I mean, representing me as a manager and getting me signed to a record deal as the next Annie Lennox.
To be fair:
At this time, I had starting wrecking my voice, vocally. It was after I had been bulimic a long time and was in rock bands screaming in clubs with bad sound. I was singing way too low and relying on very bad vocal habits to get me through a performance.
That is to say,
later, when I started rebuilding my voice by using opera technique and remembered how BEAUTIFUL my Broadway/ opera/ big ballad a la Celine Dion voice is, well, it would have been a WAY better time to meet Tiger as a PROFESSIONAL SINGER. And I met him when I was still in my 20s. I hate to say it, because I don't want it to be real for me, but each passing year after the age of, oh, say, 21, people are suspect as to why they haven't heard of you yet.
Unless you look like Susan Boyle and are a virgin (and she IS a wonderful singer!). Unless you have a story. I mean, hell, I gotta story now, but the story then was tragic but without the turnaround.
Anyway, so there I was, spending time with Tiger. He introduced me to a backup singer to the stars. He brought me to fancy Hollywood places like the Polo Lounge (okay, that's Beverly Hills) where we mingled with stars (like Keanu Reeves. I don't know how it is possible, but he is actually even MORE beautiful in person.) Eventually, he told me he wanted to discuss my career and I said "GREAT!" He said he would "send a car Friday night at 8."
The minute he said THAT, I started to worry. Why didn't he say, come into my office and bring your guitar? Let's meet Friday at 3 at a recording studio and play with some musicians? I mean, I was still hopeful enough to look for the best but I had now been in a band for a while and knew a LOT about how men operate. (Me and six boys in a tour van on and off for a few years. Yeah. I learned some stuff.)
Not only that, but I didn't want to mislead the guy. I didn't want him to think I was "like that." I didn't want to insinuate more than I was comfortable with.
BUT I also didn't want to be projecting on to him. And I thought I might be! I thought I might be projecting all my big bad wolf man fears onto him, fears I had well learned through a few other sticky situations (pun intended. Ew!) and through the years I did massage and had some weird clients AND through a few very controlling and manipulative and emotionally (and sometimes more) abusive boyfriends. (Learnin' a lot about me now, aren't ya?)
So, I decided to go ahead and just see.
The car picked me up and he was smoking away. I hate cigarette smoke. Like with a passion. Like I am kind of hardcore about not being around cigarettes unless you're my neighbor lady who reminds me of my grandma and smokes while she is watering the plants. But otherwise? ew. No.
Anyway. We arrived at what was at that time THE restaurant on the Sunset Strip, and they showed us to a table in the middle of the restaurant where everyone could see us.
I guess one upshot of this was that I was pretty enough to be considered a trophy wife.
Oh that is such an anti-feminist thought! Eeek! Don't tell Jane Mag, but also, please don't think of me like Ann Coulter. It's just a weird thought I have left over from the years I was an ugly duckling. If only that little girl could see she really was a swan after all
blah blah blah
back to the story.
So we sat down to dinner and the conversation was not at all about my music, my singing, or my career. It was about wine, and LA, and stories from his life. A very handsome man passed by, smiled at me, and then stopped.
"Tiger!" [sic]
He invited us to join him and some of his clients in the lounge for drinks after dinner. After he left, Tiger looked at me apologetically. He was sorry, but this particular man was an attorney- actually, according to Tiger, he was one of the biggest in town (who knows, maybe that was true.) and we should really stop by and have drinks, just one, just to be social.
I was relieved, and intrigued. See, the attorney was closer to my age and very handsome. Me likey-d what me saw-y-ed. I realized there was no possibility there, of course, because the Minnesota Mind of Erin would never go on a date with the friend of another guy who was trying to date me, and now it was VERY clear that that's exactly what Tiger was trying to do. He wasn't trying to help me with my career, but he also wasn't trying to only get laid, either. He was asking me about children, and driving up to Napa, and etc. All that LA stuff. Did I like wines? How about spas in Palm Springs?
Sigh. The answer would have been, yes, but with a man who I was attracted to- perhaps one a little more age appropriate (sorry, I know that's a touchy subject for people, but I have ALWAYS imagined myself with someone fairly close to my age. Ask me when I'm 50, if I'm not married to my man, then I may be a cougar. But until then, I like relative closeness in age. And this is partially because at this point I had already dated primarily older men, guys around ten years older than me, anyway. And I didn't want that. And Tiger was my Dad's age, or maybe a year older.)
We finished dinner and went to the lounge where the attorney introduced us to everyone at the table. They were there for someone's birthday and my friend Tiger told everyone not only that I was a singer, but that I had been trained as an opera singer and I would LOVE to sing happy birthday. So, I did. I sang it a l'opera. :)
And the lounge went quiet while I sang.
I silenced one of the hottest bars in Hollywood.
And then it erupted in applause.
No one is used to having someone sing "Happy Birthday" in Italian loud enough to cut through the house music on the Sunset Strip, I guess.
A woman- no- nay- not a woman- an ethereal fairy tale looking queen- rose from the end of the table.
"My dear," she said, "That was marvelous. Come sit next to me."
I did. She was gorgeous. Blonde, buxom, plastic surgeried, but beautiful. I guessed her age around 38 although later her friend told me she was 52. She introduced herself as the widow of so and so, (a famous comedian.) She asked when Tiger and I would be getting married.
"Oh, no, no," I said, "I don't really want to get married."
She smiled.
"My dear," she said, "That is because you don't know what marriage can do for you. But with cheekbones like that? And I'd guess you're closer to 30 than 20? You should start thinking about it, fast. Tell you what. Why don't you come over to my house for a nightcap and I will show you what marriage has done for me."
She rose, then, almost hovering above her chair.
She clapped her hands.
"Everyone, we're all going to my house for a drink!"
The table erupted in cheers
We crammed into a few town cars that wound their way up the Hollywood Hills. Her house was incredible- the pool was built to look like a naturally occurring laguna. She showed me her Picassos, her Modiglianis. I have to admit, I was incredibly impressed.
"You see, dear, you see marriage as something permanent," she said. "But it isn't. It's a business."
I wasn't against what she was saying, nor did I disagree. I had studied love and romance and marriage and Eleanor of Aquitane. I knew that marrying for love was a very new phenomenon. I knew that more marriages ended up as business deals far more than was even intended.
But I wasn't interested in marriage as a business. I wasn't interested in using my looks, fading or not, (by the way: they were not fading, not by half! If I take after the women on my mother's side of the family, and I believe I do, I haven't even started! They were ALL downright GORGEOUS in their 40s and 50s!) as currency, as bait.
I had already learned from my previous relationship- and not by intention but by accident- marry for money, you earn every penny. I had learned that in EVERY marriage- you earn every penny. So in my mind, I already knew I was going to take care of myself, with or without a partner. I was already done with the illusion that a MAN was going to come save me from my life. That just wasn't what I wanted. Ironically, what I wanted was a CAREER to come save me from my life, and at this moment, I have a man AND a career that are intertwined, but no one needs saving and no one is a victim and no one is a savior.
You know, whoever you are, however your life works out, that's your life. I think it's great as long as it works for you, or even if it doesn't. It's not for me to say what should be the case for everyone. I'm not steeped in dogma (I think.) I'm just reflecting on what has happened in my life and what I would like and what works for me.
So, meanwhile, the cute attorney? He was really interested. Me, too. We spent the night talking about art, about music, about literature. He was so my kinda guy. Neither of us drank much, but then we DID go skinny dipping in the laguna pool. This was making poor Tiger fume. And I don't blame him. He was watching me go for a younger man, potentially a more successful man. Tiger should have been going for my goddess hostess trying to teach me how to marry. That was only a 5-10 year age difference. But her boyfriend came over after work- her 24 year old bartending boyfriend. Ah.
Finally, Tiger had had enough. As I was putting my clothes back on (it was a whole gang of skinny dippers, not just me and the lawyer boy! It was me, lawyer boy, a hair stylist, his boyfriend, and another girl.) he informed me that "we needed to talk" and he used that TONE very LOUDLY in front of EVERYONE to let them all know that ERIN WOULD BE UNAVAILABLE FOR LATE NIGHT TACOS or CHICKEN AND WAFFLES or WHATEVER THEY WERE PLANNING ON DOING.
We walked into the kitchen. I followed him like a high school kid in trouble with her Dad. Yeah. It was weird.
Then he turned around and stuck his tongue in my mouth. Just like that. It was like a middle school dance kiss. Only with the taste of cigarettes. Which made everything even weirder.
Then he asked when I would make time for "us." I apologized. He said he had called the car and it was waiting and he would take me home. We were silent on the ride home, but as he dropped me off he said, "I'll call you tomorrow, okay kiddo?"
He did call the next day and asked about us. Would I like to take his Porsche up to wine country?
I did potentially a really dumb thing. I told him that I wasn't romantically interested or attracted to him. I told him I had honestly thought he was interested in my career as a singer and was trying to help me, and that I liked him "as a friend" (again, how high school) but that was it.
He was very honest with me. He told me I needed the right song, the right music, the right hair, the right look, the right fans, the right team. And he wished me luck.
A couple years later I consulted with him about my album, poet's lovely daughter. He told me the album was indie and cool, but had nothing to do with me as a singer. He told me I should focus on being more like Celine Dion. He was right. I didn't listen, but he was right.
A couple years after that, I heard from the friend he had been with the night we all met. That friend told me that Tiger had gotten married and was very happy.
I was very happy for him.
I never saw the attorney again. Or if I have, I never recognized him...
Strangely, my partner has a law degree... Could it be? No.... Really?
Haha just kidding. My guy is Italian. This guy was definitely not that. But I hope he's happy!
Thursday, August 27, 2015
AUGUST, LA COUNTY: The Struggles of an Artist, Part Two
I remember the first time I consciously encountered someone with an ulterior motive as an artist. I mean, of course, my first voice and piano teachers were partially motivated by money. But that's not a negative ulterior motive, that's a fair exchange of energy. No, the incident I want to write about was the first time that I experienced someone abusing the situation we were in- at least that's what I think it was- for their own anger/ revenge/ ulterior motive. It wasn't the first time a *guy* took advantage of the situation, or tried. That would happen not much later, and then repeatedly. It was the first time I had an experience so outlandish and- out and out just not right- that taught me a bit about entertainment, art, and competition.
So, I'm not one to say competition is bad. I think it's very positive. It makes us become SO much better. I had a constant unspoken competition in high school with a few friends and I personally feel that although we parted as frenemies, we all were better for it- better students, better musicians, etc.
But in this instance, I learned a lot about how people don't always behave according to standards of integrity.
So, I was in high school, and I was, maybe not THE star singer of the school, because there were a lot of incredible singers in my school, but definitely one of the better singers and DEFINITELY one of the most driven to succeed.
In addition to studying voice with the choir director and singing in every musical and choral opportunity possible and even creating my own independent study in which I was directing a girls' choir, I also studied private piano lessons and voice lessons with professors from a nearby university. I was singing in contests unrelated to school and winning awards at them. I remember winning a Schubert competition, and I recall how surprised people were to hear a BIG voice come out of what was then a LITTLE body. I won, and/or placed, in several competitions connected to school, and was being offered a few scholarships already to a few different colleges (including NYU.)
I am not telling you all of this so much to prove anything other than the fact that there was proof I was a good singer. I mean, yes, I was young, 17, and had this huge, unwieldy voice that needed training. I was kind, but also full of false humility, because I didn't know how to be great and not egotistical at the same time but I knew that it was very unattractive to have a big ego, so I was learning to tame myself and still pursue my dreams.
I later learned to squash myself and not pursue my dreams, and then learned humility and THEN learned to pursue mastery and dreams and art without any of these sorts of qualifications of ego, envy, good or bad. But this is part of the path of an artist as well as part of the path of becoming an adult.
So, there was an upcoming competition, and each school could submit only a certain number of singers. I was one of the singers to be sent. There were other singers with beautiful voices that were not selected. Was I better than those singers? Maybe. It's so long ago I can't say. Was I a favorite? Definitely. The choir director and I had a special relationship. He believed in my talent, and basically, I was never an asshole to him (unlike most high school kids.) Did I deserve to be at the competition? I believe so, and at any rate, whether or not I deserved it, or no matter what was fair or unfair, I was going.
I have always been one of a big range, of vocal power, of rich tone. So, while my range was that of a soprano, (and my personality! ha! Total diva, admittedly!) I was often singing a lot of mezzo pieces because, well, I could! These days I think of myself really as a spinto, almost a dramatic soprano, because as my voice has matured it really sits in that sort of dramatic Puccini placement for sopranos, and casting wise, if casting matters too terribly much in opera, those are my roles. As a Broadway gal I'm a legit to mix-belt girl, think Kristen Chenowith, but I have a low range as well. I get compared a lot to Linda Ronstadt when I sing pop, country or big ol' ballads. So that gives you an idea of the sound of my voice if you've never heard me, not to mention my facial structure and appearance and general casting. ;)
I went to this competition and I believe I sang one of two songs:
"Le Violette," with which I won a lot of competitions- straight outta ye olde Book of Italian art Songs, a favorite among new students,
or
"Voi Che Sapete," the Mozart aria for a mezzo, a pants role- one in which "she" plays a he.
I just started singing the latter, and I still love the way it bursts from the blossom of my lips, the way the tone rounds in the top of my mouth. I still study and work with a teacher endlessly on tone, production, and Italian; it has been a long time since I've had the wonderings of the character ("excuse me ladies, how do I get laid, and would you be someone who would be able to physically assist me with that right NOW?") but I will always love that song and enter into the fizzy, light headed joy of the aria every time I sing it.
The judge for my particular portion of the contest was a professor at one of the local universities. In fact, she was a good friend of *my* voice teacher, although she did not know that and I did not tell her so. The first round of the competition involved singing alone just for the individual judge, although my accompanist was with me, one of my best friends.
After I sang for this lady, she said,
"I can't believe you are here in this competition."
Ego: Smacked.
"Oh?" I asked.
"You just don't have a voice," she said.
"What?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Note: since then, I have actually had about half a dozen people tell me I have a terrible voice or I can't sing. I don't listen and I don't care. People don't need to love me or my voice! I don't need the whole world to love me and its an impossibility anyway. I sing for the love of it, and for the people who want to hear it. But...
I was a high school kid.
An imperfect one? yes.
But talented? yes!
"You don't have a good voice, you will never make it into any college as a singer, you will never do anything with this voice, and I don't know why you are here."
"Oh, okay," I said. I gathered up my things. "Thank you," I said as I was leaving. I'm from Minnesota, after all. We have good manners.
My friend and I were in silence as we walked back to the cafeteria to meet up with all the other musicians. We were both stunned. She went on to accompany someone else, but I don't remember what I did.
Later, when I didn't place, my choir director sought me out.
"What happened?" he asked.
I told him what the woman had told to me and he was very upset. He confided in me that one of her personal, private voice students was one of the girls from my school who hadn't made the cut and she was probably doing this to take revenge on him. He even filed a complaint.
I told my private voice teacher this, and Teri couldn't believe her ears. She just could not believe it. She couldn't believe that (this woman) had said such things, but
I had proof. I had had a friend in the room.
A few years later, fresh out of rehab, I started getting back into voice lessons while living with my parents. Guess who was my voice teacher?
The judge who told me I would go nowhere.
In a strange twist of fate, I was placed with her as my teacher, and she actually freed my voice a lot during a time when I was filled with shame.
Did she remember what had happened between us?
I have no idea. We never talked about it.
Did I just sing really badly that day? I don't think so. When she was my teacher, she was encouraging me to call up all the music schools I had turned down because of my eating disorder and rehabs. She was trying to get me to move to New York and make a real go of it.
So what did I learn?
Even the best of us are not always to be trusted.
People don't always operate from the best of intentions, let alone YOUR best interests.
People are worth forgiving.
And I am really good at making friends with the enemy.
So, I'm not one to say competition is bad. I think it's very positive. It makes us become SO much better. I had a constant unspoken competition in high school with a few friends and I personally feel that although we parted as frenemies, we all were better for it- better students, better musicians, etc.
But in this instance, I learned a lot about how people don't always behave according to standards of integrity.
So, I was in high school, and I was, maybe not THE star singer of the school, because there were a lot of incredible singers in my school, but definitely one of the better singers and DEFINITELY one of the most driven to succeed.
In addition to studying voice with the choir director and singing in every musical and choral opportunity possible and even creating my own independent study in which I was directing a girls' choir, I also studied private piano lessons and voice lessons with professors from a nearby university. I was singing in contests unrelated to school and winning awards at them. I remember winning a Schubert competition, and I recall how surprised people were to hear a BIG voice come out of what was then a LITTLE body. I won, and/or placed, in several competitions connected to school, and was being offered a few scholarships already to a few different colleges (including NYU.)
I am not telling you all of this so much to prove anything other than the fact that there was proof I was a good singer. I mean, yes, I was young, 17, and had this huge, unwieldy voice that needed training. I was kind, but also full of false humility, because I didn't know how to be great and not egotistical at the same time but I knew that it was very unattractive to have a big ego, so I was learning to tame myself and still pursue my dreams.
I later learned to squash myself and not pursue my dreams, and then learned humility and THEN learned to pursue mastery and dreams and art without any of these sorts of qualifications of ego, envy, good or bad. But this is part of the path of an artist as well as part of the path of becoming an adult.
So, there was an upcoming competition, and each school could submit only a certain number of singers. I was one of the singers to be sent. There were other singers with beautiful voices that were not selected. Was I better than those singers? Maybe. It's so long ago I can't say. Was I a favorite? Definitely. The choir director and I had a special relationship. He believed in my talent, and basically, I was never an asshole to him (unlike most high school kids.) Did I deserve to be at the competition? I believe so, and at any rate, whether or not I deserved it, or no matter what was fair or unfair, I was going.
I have always been one of a big range, of vocal power, of rich tone. So, while my range was that of a soprano, (and my personality! ha! Total diva, admittedly!) I was often singing a lot of mezzo pieces because, well, I could! These days I think of myself really as a spinto, almost a dramatic soprano, because as my voice has matured it really sits in that sort of dramatic Puccini placement for sopranos, and casting wise, if casting matters too terribly much in opera, those are my roles. As a Broadway gal I'm a legit to mix-belt girl, think Kristen Chenowith, but I have a low range as well. I get compared a lot to Linda Ronstadt when I sing pop, country or big ol' ballads. So that gives you an idea of the sound of my voice if you've never heard me, not to mention my facial structure and appearance and general casting. ;)
I went to this competition and I believe I sang one of two songs:
"Le Violette," with which I won a lot of competitions- straight outta ye olde Book of Italian art Songs, a favorite among new students,
or
"Voi Che Sapete," the Mozart aria for a mezzo, a pants role- one in which "she" plays a he.
I just started singing the latter, and I still love the way it bursts from the blossom of my lips, the way the tone rounds in the top of my mouth. I still study and work with a teacher endlessly on tone, production, and Italian; it has been a long time since I've had the wonderings of the character ("excuse me ladies, how do I get laid, and would you be someone who would be able to physically assist me with that right NOW?") but I will always love that song and enter into the fizzy, light headed joy of the aria every time I sing it.
The judge for my particular portion of the contest was a professor at one of the local universities. In fact, she was a good friend of *my* voice teacher, although she did not know that and I did not tell her so. The first round of the competition involved singing alone just for the individual judge, although my accompanist was with me, one of my best friends.
After I sang for this lady, she said,
"I can't believe you are here in this competition."
Ego: Smacked.
"Oh?" I asked.
"You just don't have a voice," she said.
"What?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Note: since then, I have actually had about half a dozen people tell me I have a terrible voice or I can't sing. I don't listen and I don't care. People don't need to love me or my voice! I don't need the whole world to love me and its an impossibility anyway. I sing for the love of it, and for the people who want to hear it. But...
I was a high school kid.
An imperfect one? yes.
But talented? yes!
"You don't have a good voice, you will never make it into any college as a singer, you will never do anything with this voice, and I don't know why you are here."
"Oh, okay," I said. I gathered up my things. "Thank you," I said as I was leaving. I'm from Minnesota, after all. We have good manners.
My friend and I were in silence as we walked back to the cafeteria to meet up with all the other musicians. We were both stunned. She went on to accompany someone else, but I don't remember what I did.
Later, when I didn't place, my choir director sought me out.
"What happened?" he asked.
I told him what the woman had told to me and he was very upset. He confided in me that one of her personal, private voice students was one of the girls from my school who hadn't made the cut and she was probably doing this to take revenge on him. He even filed a complaint.
I told my private voice teacher this, and Teri couldn't believe her ears. She just could not believe it. She couldn't believe that (this woman) had said such things, but
I had proof. I had had a friend in the room.
A few years later, fresh out of rehab, I started getting back into voice lessons while living with my parents. Guess who was my voice teacher?
The judge who told me I would go nowhere.
In a strange twist of fate, I was placed with her as my teacher, and she actually freed my voice a lot during a time when I was filled with shame.
Did she remember what had happened between us?
I have no idea. We never talked about it.
Did I just sing really badly that day? I don't think so. When she was my teacher, she was encouraging me to call up all the music schools I had turned down because of my eating disorder and rehabs. She was trying to get me to move to New York and make a real go of it.
So what did I learn?
Even the best of us are not always to be trusted.
People don't always operate from the best of intentions, let alone YOUR best interests.
People are worth forgiving.
And I am really good at making friends with the enemy.
Wednesday, August 26, 2015
AUGUST, LA COUNTY: The Struggles of an Artist, Part One
Good day, everyone!
It's August 26th, 2015. I've got August on my mind because, of course, it's the end of August, but also because just today I was talking about the August Strindberg play "Miss Julie," a role I would love to play and am very right for, and lately have been thinking about great characters and theater, and also, because I am writing this blog and was just going to title it with today's date but then thought of another great play, "August: Osage County," and thought since I want to write a bit today about my life specifically in Hollywood and some of the trials and pitfalls of late, it would be a clever title.
But the I thought I would explain if because sometimes I know I can be a bit obtuse and it's all relative, isn't it. One person's eye roll is another person's eye opener and it's all beautiful and all just right.
Anyway, long ago, by which I mean about a year ago, a financial life coach was advising that in my blog I should share some of my struggles as a singer/ actress/ writer. She thought that it would help potential fans and coworkers to see the real day to day struggle of life as an artist.
At the time, I rebuffed the suggestion, because I wanted to remain positive. I wanted to present and project a successful artist who wrote sensitive blogs and essays about peace and compassion. I also didn't want to rock any boats or out any people in my life because you know, it's a small town, and word gets around, and I don't want to burn bridges and stuff.
But lately, I've been thinking about what she said, and thought, well, geez. I'm blogging my one woman shows, I'm gonna be blogging chapters of my novels. I am going to also blog about my struggles and what I am going through as an aspiring and working singer/ songwriter/ screenwriter/ novelist/ actress.
I mean, that right there, that I do so many things and it really puts people (some people) off, is enough. But I aim toward honesty and mastery in all my arts- I already have love and passion for them!
I mean, I don't want to get into some of the mundane things- like- I recently did new headshots and saw that my body is carrying weight differently now in my 30s. Oh my god! Truly, I cannot believe how womanly I am. And it's not a BAD thing per se, because I think I get better looking with each passing year- my mother was the same- she blossomed in her 40s and was at the PEAK of her beauty circa age 50, garnering comparisons to Sela Ward. I feel I will be the same. But it still is a shock to look at your body, your stomach, and say, that is not the body of a 21 year old. That is a va va voom, Marilyn Monroe, womanly body. Of COURSE Marilyn, who died at age 36, had a womanly body from the time she was like, 16, but I feel I am living in a day and age where *I* personally feel pressure to be extra youthful. I mean, this may sound weird, but thank God for Kim Kardashian and her Venus of Willendorf curves, and let's embrace ALL bodies and all that. But really, I think the shock is that, well, I am on year older than my last headshots and while I mostly love myself and how I look and who I am and what I'm doing, well, I DO wish I were a little more successful and I am feeling a bit of pressure about age.
Blech.
But that's not what I really wanted to write about. That's me chickening out on some things that have been happening that I want to write about with kindness, but awareness, about life in Hollywood on a personal level.
So, in June, I did a one woman show (Not "The One," which I recently blogged here, but a NEW one called "StandUpera," about my life as a singer and the trials and tribulations. I WILL be blogging that one here later, as well after I add some scenes from later performances of "The One," and, my novel based on my play, "My Life as a Phone Psychic.")
Here's the amazing poster from the show, designed by Portland, Oregon based graphic designer, David Sparks, with a photo by Gracie Rae, inspired by my friend Cathy Carlson:
I did the show, as you can see, as part of the 2015 Hollywood Fringe Theater Festival. It was a multimedia show directed by my friend Nell Teare, featuring standup, story and song. I sang a few songs as part of the show, although we added and subtracted a few as the show really got its legs. Anyway, as I will be putting up video later of the show and its grand finale, I don't want to ruin too much of the surprise by writing HERE all the songs I sang... so, just know that, in general, I feel the show was a success in terms of the reviews I got (all positive except for a few people who were offended by my voice or by my thrashing of the conventions of opera, so I count those as positive, actually, because if you're not pissing SOMEONE off as a comic, well... maybe you're not doing it right? I dunno. Depends on the kind of comedy) and the audience reaction and even moreso, requests to do it again as a proper theatrical run or as a TED Talk.
One of the things that happened during the show was that I met a potential manager.
Now, let me preface things a little bit by saying that, as a singer, and an actress, and a writer, I feel that every year I keep improving and getting better. I am dedicated to being a master, whatever that means. I am better now than I ever have been in all my time as a professional (or amateur) singer, songwriter, performer, actress, writer. I continue studying with master teachers because I believe there is always room to grow. As the years go by, I become more and more commercial in my approach (believe it or not) because I realize I LOVE that stuff and, well, sound the BEST singing/ performing/ writing it. Like, I am MADE for musicals, and country music, and big ballad love songs a la Celine Dion. I am MADE for that emotionally, vocally, and in regards to my physical appearance.
Intellectually, I mean, of course I still love some of the more obscure and artsy fartsy and weird stuff, but even then, having inundated my artistic experience with that stuff in my teens and 20s, I actually am having a Renaissance as a fan/ listener with things I personally have never had time for before- please don't laugh- okay laugh- things like: Disney movies. Stephen King. Soccer.
So.
ALL of that is to say... What I think I need, really, is a break. Like, the big one. Like, my big break. Like, my shot at American Idol (which I am now too old for.) Like, meeting David Foster. Like, doing vocals for a Disney Princess movie.
(I will now insert the spoof of "A Whole New World" from Aladdin that I did for some of my dear Burning Man/ Fire Dancing friends: "A Whole New Burn."
Listen here- turn the volume up, probably, on your computer:
https://www.reverbnation.com/erincarere/song/24197349-a-whole-new-burn
The male voice is Franck Bensoussan, and the whole production was recorded by Andres Uribe Lopez of the Analog Vibe Studio.)
And at one of the performances of "StandUpera," in the audience, there was someone who, later, I would come to hope might be a link to that big break.
I feel worried to write about it here, because in no way do I want to be too exposing of this person, or encourage this person to be angrier or weirder than they are.
I am writing about it here because this has happened to me SO MANY TIMES in my life as a performer that I want to deconstruct WHY.
Why do I attract the people who project on to me their own delusions? As I write the blog, I will talk about other times it has happened. I mean, it is part of the territory of art and Hollywood in particular, to attract people who tell you one thing but really have entirely different stories running through their heads. And I want to share how I overcame my own delusions. SO many times I have had entire relationships and stories in my HEAD that had nothing to do with reality, and thanks to a life coach, an acting coach, and a few trips to India, I have grown in an awareness of those things.
So, I am giving away the ending a little bit here. At least I HOPE it's the ending! But let's go back to the beginning...
Picture it... there I was... the opening night of "StandUpera..."
to be continued....
It's August 26th, 2015. I've got August on my mind because, of course, it's the end of August, but also because just today I was talking about the August Strindberg play "Miss Julie," a role I would love to play and am very right for, and lately have been thinking about great characters and theater, and also, because I am writing this blog and was just going to title it with today's date but then thought of another great play, "August: Osage County," and thought since I want to write a bit today about my life specifically in Hollywood and some of the trials and pitfalls of late, it would be a clever title.
But the I thought I would explain if because sometimes I know I can be a bit obtuse and it's all relative, isn't it. One person's eye roll is another person's eye opener and it's all beautiful and all just right.
Anyway, long ago, by which I mean about a year ago, a financial life coach was advising that in my blog I should share some of my struggles as a singer/ actress/ writer. She thought that it would help potential fans and coworkers to see the real day to day struggle of life as an artist.
At the time, I rebuffed the suggestion, because I wanted to remain positive. I wanted to present and project a successful artist who wrote sensitive blogs and essays about peace and compassion. I also didn't want to rock any boats or out any people in my life because you know, it's a small town, and word gets around, and I don't want to burn bridges and stuff.
But lately, I've been thinking about what she said, and thought, well, geez. I'm blogging my one woman shows, I'm gonna be blogging chapters of my novels. I am going to also blog about my struggles and what I am going through as an aspiring and working singer/ songwriter/ screenwriter/ novelist/ actress.
I mean, that right there, that I do so many things and it really puts people (some people) off, is enough. But I aim toward honesty and mastery in all my arts- I already have love and passion for them!
I mean, I don't want to get into some of the mundane things- like- I recently did new headshots and saw that my body is carrying weight differently now in my 30s. Oh my god! Truly, I cannot believe how womanly I am. And it's not a BAD thing per se, because I think I get better looking with each passing year- my mother was the same- she blossomed in her 40s and was at the PEAK of her beauty circa age 50, garnering comparisons to Sela Ward. I feel I will be the same. But it still is a shock to look at your body, your stomach, and say, that is not the body of a 21 year old. That is a va va voom, Marilyn Monroe, womanly body. Of COURSE Marilyn, who died at age 36, had a womanly body from the time she was like, 16, but I feel I am living in a day and age where *I* personally feel pressure to be extra youthful. I mean, this may sound weird, but thank God for Kim Kardashian and her Venus of Willendorf curves, and let's embrace ALL bodies and all that. But really, I think the shock is that, well, I am on year older than my last headshots and while I mostly love myself and how I look and who I am and what I'm doing, well, I DO wish I were a little more successful and I am feeling a bit of pressure about age.
Blech.
But that's not what I really wanted to write about. That's me chickening out on some things that have been happening that I want to write about with kindness, but awareness, about life in Hollywood on a personal level.
So, in June, I did a one woman show (Not "The One," which I recently blogged here, but a NEW one called "StandUpera," about my life as a singer and the trials and tribulations. I WILL be blogging that one here later, as well after I add some scenes from later performances of "The One," and, my novel based on my play, "My Life as a Phone Psychic.")
Here's the amazing poster from the show, designed by Portland, Oregon based graphic designer, David Sparks, with a photo by Gracie Rae, inspired by my friend Cathy Carlson:
I did the show, as you can see, as part of the 2015 Hollywood Fringe Theater Festival. It was a multimedia show directed by my friend Nell Teare, featuring standup, story and song. I sang a few songs as part of the show, although we added and subtracted a few as the show really got its legs. Anyway, as I will be putting up video later of the show and its grand finale, I don't want to ruin too much of the surprise by writing HERE all the songs I sang... so, just know that, in general, I feel the show was a success in terms of the reviews I got (all positive except for a few people who were offended by my voice or by my thrashing of the conventions of opera, so I count those as positive, actually, because if you're not pissing SOMEONE off as a comic, well... maybe you're not doing it right? I dunno. Depends on the kind of comedy) and the audience reaction and even moreso, requests to do it again as a proper theatrical run or as a TED Talk.
One of the things that happened during the show was that I met a potential manager.
Now, let me preface things a little bit by saying that, as a singer, and an actress, and a writer, I feel that every year I keep improving and getting better. I am dedicated to being a master, whatever that means. I am better now than I ever have been in all my time as a professional (or amateur) singer, songwriter, performer, actress, writer. I continue studying with master teachers because I believe there is always room to grow. As the years go by, I become more and more commercial in my approach (believe it or not) because I realize I LOVE that stuff and, well, sound the BEST singing/ performing/ writing it. Like, I am MADE for musicals, and country music, and big ballad love songs a la Celine Dion. I am MADE for that emotionally, vocally, and in regards to my physical appearance.
Intellectually, I mean, of course I still love some of the more obscure and artsy fartsy and weird stuff, but even then, having inundated my artistic experience with that stuff in my teens and 20s, I actually am having a Renaissance as a fan/ listener with things I personally have never had time for before- please don't laugh- okay laugh- things like: Disney movies. Stephen King. Soccer.
So.
ALL of that is to say... What I think I need, really, is a break. Like, the big one. Like, my big break. Like, my shot at American Idol (which I am now too old for.) Like, meeting David Foster. Like, doing vocals for a Disney Princess movie.
(I will now insert the spoof of "A Whole New World" from Aladdin that I did for some of my dear Burning Man/ Fire Dancing friends: "A Whole New Burn."
Listen here- turn the volume up, probably, on your computer:
https://www.reverbnation.com/erincarere/song/24197349-a-whole-new-burn
The male voice is Franck Bensoussan, and the whole production was recorded by Andres Uribe Lopez of the Analog Vibe Studio.)
And at one of the performances of "StandUpera," in the audience, there was someone who, later, I would come to hope might be a link to that big break.
I feel worried to write about it here, because in no way do I want to be too exposing of this person, or encourage this person to be angrier or weirder than they are.
I am writing about it here because this has happened to me SO MANY TIMES in my life as a performer that I want to deconstruct WHY.
Why do I attract the people who project on to me their own delusions? As I write the blog, I will talk about other times it has happened. I mean, it is part of the territory of art and Hollywood in particular, to attract people who tell you one thing but really have entirely different stories running through their heads. And I want to share how I overcame my own delusions. SO many times I have had entire relationships and stories in my HEAD that had nothing to do with reality, and thanks to a life coach, an acting coach, and a few trips to India, I have grown in an awareness of those things.
So, I am giving away the ending a little bit here. At least I HOPE it's the ending! But let's go back to the beginning...
Picture it... there I was... the opening night of "StandUpera..."
to be continued....
Thursday, August 20, 2015
INTERLUDE: The Beekeeper, Tori Amos, ten years later
Today is August 20th, 2015.
I am in the middle of writing a novel, a screenplay, planning a three song EP, and auditioning for a ton of stuff. I live in Los Angeles with my man from Italy and my dog from the streets of LA (born after his mother was rescued from a dumpster.) I'm at the height of my life so far, and here's to hoping it gets better. My friends are psychics, artists, musicians, warriors, healers, writers, poets, photographers, directors, wonderfully complicated and crazy. I am- I can't say happy because it isn't like that. I am everything. I feel everything. I think everything and nothing, usually at the same time. I experience as much as I am aware. I am just beginning to be my true self... I think. Will the real Erin please stand up?
I recently had a session with a incredible psychic, Jungian analyst, astrologer, divine feminine mystic and shoe maker! I wasn't surprised when, after our brilliant session, I read that she was also a guide to Tori Amos, a woman I have always loved and listened to. I love music that has melody and beautiful voicing and pain as well as joy and so her music really resonates with me. Of course, so does Celine Dion! Hipster friends, please don't judge... and... also... conservative friends? Try not to as well. ha!
Anyway. So, right now, one of my practices is trying to remember how to have fun. DON'T LAUGH! You know, serious musicians and comedians and workaholics and poets and mystics and healers- and I am all of those things- we have a hard time relaxing. We have a hard time having fun. So I am asking the best person I can think of to guide me toward what I ACTUALLY like and enjoy and think is fun: me, little Erin, from ages, oh, say, 4 or 5 to 6, 7, 8. And the answers are surprising!
She loves yogurt parfaits and doesn't really like chocolate. ! She loves Anne of Green Gables (duh!) and doesn't love The Knick! (Although the adult me is intellectually intrigued although not emotionally drawn in.) She loves dresses and hates shorts (same as the adult me) and wants to listen to the soundtrack to French Kiss and anything by Tori Amos in the 2000s but not the 90s. She wants to return to being a vegetarian. She doesn't actually like meat, nor do I, really, just as an adult I'm rebelling against my old eating disorder and thought that would be part of it. Okay! I'm just going with it.
So, here I am, on my walk this morning, of course in the middle of a million things because I'm about to go rehearse with a potential pianist for my recording, and then have a fun audition. And I'm listening to tracks from "The Beekeeper:" "Goodbye to Pisces," "The Power of Orange Knickers," "Sleeps with Butterflies."
And I am suddenly in 2005, when the album came out with a book that accompanied it, and I was in Germany with the infamous FtG, and things were not going well and I was being gaslighted and manipulated and left in a forest in the middle of nowhere and then physically threatened in a castle just outside Dresden with physical violence if I didn't shape up. And it was dramatic and awful and he wasn't who I thought I was- and NEITHER WAS I. And I'm journaling a lot at this time, listening to Tori, and reading the book, and thinking about my unrecorded albums, my unsung songs, my novels yet to be written. And I'm riding on a train to Berlin, and the country side is going by and I'm connected not to Berlin or the man or the endless bottles of wine or miserable dinners. And I'm being promised things I don't care about- a penthouse in Dusseldorf. A Porsche. The time to write (which by the way, was not really on the table.) If only I would quit singing and quit, well, everything and just get pregnant and- you know- with that guy- it was never good enough. You know that old saying, he asks me to jump and I say how high? It wasn't enough to say how high, I was supposed to just KNOW how high to jump and IF I jumped EXACTLY to that height, he would change his desire so I would be wrong again.
Of course it never starts out that way. It starts out with jazz and poetry and art, with quotations and slow dancing.
SO today, 2015, I'm listening to this Tori Amos album I haven't visited in a long time, and I'm thinking,
Oh My God. I made it. I fucking made it. No. I really, really did. I mean, of course I'm not famous or successful as a working actor or a known author of beloved magical realism novels- yet. ;-p I may be that still or I may never be. But you know what I do have? My SELF.
My self.
My life. My love of life.
I can listen to Tori Amos and Celine Dion and Sarah Brightman and Uptown Funk and Strauss lieder all in one walk and it's all gorgeous. I can ask my 5 year old self what we really want for breakfast and have it. I can laugh off all the stupid shit I do and have done and know that a Princess Bride quote can be as profound as Goethe: "Life IS pain, Highness. Anyone that says differently is selling something."
And life IS pain and yet-
it is still a beautiful world, right?
I mean, that's where I get caught up. Because I want to love this world and then I think of war and violence and meanness and unfairness and how dirty and concrete Los Angeles is and how selfish humans seem to be,
and I'm reading Under Tiberius (by Nick Tosches, what an incredible writer)and the whole idea that Jesus was actually a manufactured entertainment a la a modern day boy band is incredibly comforting,
and then I think of my audition today, and my favorite fairy tale, and how beautiful music is and how sweet my man today is (as well as incredible handsome and badass) and how tenderly my dog loves me, and I think,
yeah, it is a beautiful world. It certainly can be.
As you wish.
And now it's time to say Goodbye to Pisces. I gotta a rehearsal to make.
I am in the middle of writing a novel, a screenplay, planning a three song EP, and auditioning for a ton of stuff. I live in Los Angeles with my man from Italy and my dog from the streets of LA (born after his mother was rescued from a dumpster.) I'm at the height of my life so far, and here's to hoping it gets better. My friends are psychics, artists, musicians, warriors, healers, writers, poets, photographers, directors, wonderfully complicated and crazy. I am- I can't say happy because it isn't like that. I am everything. I feel everything. I think everything and nothing, usually at the same time. I experience as much as I am aware. I am just beginning to be my true self... I think. Will the real Erin please stand up?
I recently had a session with a incredible psychic, Jungian analyst, astrologer, divine feminine mystic and shoe maker! I wasn't surprised when, after our brilliant session, I read that she was also a guide to Tori Amos, a woman I have always loved and listened to. I love music that has melody and beautiful voicing and pain as well as joy and so her music really resonates with me. Of course, so does Celine Dion! Hipster friends, please don't judge... and... also... conservative friends? Try not to as well. ha!
Anyway. So, right now, one of my practices is trying to remember how to have fun. DON'T LAUGH! You know, serious musicians and comedians and workaholics and poets and mystics and healers- and I am all of those things- we have a hard time relaxing. We have a hard time having fun. So I am asking the best person I can think of to guide me toward what I ACTUALLY like and enjoy and think is fun: me, little Erin, from ages, oh, say, 4 or 5 to 6, 7, 8. And the answers are surprising!
She loves yogurt parfaits and doesn't really like chocolate. ! She loves Anne of Green Gables (duh!) and doesn't love The Knick! (Although the adult me is intellectually intrigued although not emotionally drawn in.) She loves dresses and hates shorts (same as the adult me) and wants to listen to the soundtrack to French Kiss and anything by Tori Amos in the 2000s but not the 90s. She wants to return to being a vegetarian. She doesn't actually like meat, nor do I, really, just as an adult I'm rebelling against my old eating disorder and thought that would be part of it. Okay! I'm just going with it.
So, here I am, on my walk this morning, of course in the middle of a million things because I'm about to go rehearse with a potential pianist for my recording, and then have a fun audition. And I'm listening to tracks from "The Beekeeper:" "Goodbye to Pisces," "The Power of Orange Knickers," "Sleeps with Butterflies."
And I am suddenly in 2005, when the album came out with a book that accompanied it, and I was in Germany with the infamous FtG, and things were not going well and I was being gaslighted and manipulated and left in a forest in the middle of nowhere and then physically threatened in a castle just outside Dresden with physical violence if I didn't shape up. And it was dramatic and awful and he wasn't who I thought I was- and NEITHER WAS I. And I'm journaling a lot at this time, listening to Tori, and reading the book, and thinking about my unrecorded albums, my unsung songs, my novels yet to be written. And I'm riding on a train to Berlin, and the country side is going by and I'm connected not to Berlin or the man or the endless bottles of wine or miserable dinners. And I'm being promised things I don't care about- a penthouse in Dusseldorf. A Porsche. The time to write (which by the way, was not really on the table.) If only I would quit singing and quit, well, everything and just get pregnant and- you know- with that guy- it was never good enough. You know that old saying, he asks me to jump and I say how high? It wasn't enough to say how high, I was supposed to just KNOW how high to jump and IF I jumped EXACTLY to that height, he would change his desire so I would be wrong again.
Of course it never starts out that way. It starts out with jazz and poetry and art, with quotations and slow dancing.
SO today, 2015, I'm listening to this Tori Amos album I haven't visited in a long time, and I'm thinking,
Oh My God. I made it. I fucking made it. No. I really, really did. I mean, of course I'm not famous or successful as a working actor or a known author of beloved magical realism novels- yet. ;-p I may be that still or I may never be. But you know what I do have? My SELF.
My self.
My life. My love of life.
I can listen to Tori Amos and Celine Dion and Sarah Brightman and Uptown Funk and Strauss lieder all in one walk and it's all gorgeous. I can ask my 5 year old self what we really want for breakfast and have it. I can laugh off all the stupid shit I do and have done and know that a Princess Bride quote can be as profound as Goethe: "Life IS pain, Highness. Anyone that says differently is selling something."
And life IS pain and yet-
it is still a beautiful world, right?
I mean, that's where I get caught up. Because I want to love this world and then I think of war and violence and meanness and unfairness and how dirty and concrete Los Angeles is and how selfish humans seem to be,
and I'm reading Under Tiberius (by Nick Tosches, what an incredible writer)and the whole idea that Jesus was actually a manufactured entertainment a la a modern day boy band is incredibly comforting,
and then I think of my audition today, and my favorite fairy tale, and how beautiful music is and how sweet my man today is (as well as incredible handsome and badass) and how tenderly my dog loves me, and I think,
yeah, it is a beautiful world. It certainly can be.
As you wish.
And now it's time to say Goodbye to Pisces. I gotta a rehearsal to make.
Wednesday, August 5, 2015
Girl sees glimpse of eternity, writes poem
A white moon in the blue sky,
awakened by coyotes,
and a sudden rustle of the aspens.
Sleep severs our love affair
without warning and, worse, indefinitely.
Cool air. The sort my people label "brisk."
Down by the barn where an archaic
thresher lies useless, relegated to antique
decoration, Two crows chastise me:
"City girl, caw, caw. This is the country."
I tune them out and play a podcast about
spiritual enlightenment,
A talk by Ram Dass,
reminding us that security and god may
not go hand in hand.
My mind opens,
but only for a moment,
and then I must stop everything
to write a poem.
8.5.2015
Erin
awakened by coyotes,
and a sudden rustle of the aspens.
Sleep severs our love affair
without warning and, worse, indefinitely.
Cool air. The sort my people label "brisk."
Down by the barn where an archaic
thresher lies useless, relegated to antique
decoration, Two crows chastise me:
"City girl, caw, caw. This is the country."
I tune them out and play a podcast about
spiritual enlightenment,
A talk by Ram Dass,
reminding us that security and god may
not go hand in hand.
My mind opens,
but only for a moment,
and then I must stop everything
to write a poem.
8.5.2015
Erin
Monday, August 3, 2015
Visit my Music Pages, Text of my One Woman Shows and Books coming soon
Hey guys! I wanted to just link you over to my music pages :
reverbnation.com/erincarere
facebook.com/erincarereperformer
There ya go!
I'm going to be blogging sections and chapters of all my one woman shows and books over the next few weeks. My goal is to give you TONS of great reading material and links to the videos and songs that might go along side the reading material.
I'll be sharing:
THE ONE (The Original One Woman Show)
ADDITIONAL STORIES OF THE ONE (pieces I added or changed for subsequent performances)
THE ONE Self Help (A self help book for romance and unrequited love addicts I wrote based on deconstructing my own love life after doing the aforementioned one woman show)
MY LIFE AS A PHONE PSYCHIC (A novel I wrote in 2010 based on a play I wrote in 2004, long before I ever was one.)
STANDUPERA! (My Life as a Singer, with songs and comedy)
AND THAT will take us up to my next novel in progress.
I know a lot of you are curious about my performing life as opposed to my writing life.
That's why I wanted to share the links above, because that's where most of my performing info is located and posted.
Tata for now
So Much Love!
Erin
reverbnation.com/erincarere
facebook.com/erincarereperformer
There ya go!
I'm going to be blogging sections and chapters of all my one woman shows and books over the next few weeks. My goal is to give you TONS of great reading material and links to the videos and songs that might go along side the reading material.
I'll be sharing:
THE ONE (The Original One Woman Show)
ADDITIONAL STORIES OF THE ONE (pieces I added or changed for subsequent performances)
THE ONE Self Help (A self help book for romance and unrequited love addicts I wrote based on deconstructing my own love life after doing the aforementioned one woman show)
MY LIFE AS A PHONE PSYCHIC (A novel I wrote in 2010 based on a play I wrote in 2004, long before I ever was one.)
STANDUPERA! (My Life as a Singer, with songs and comedy)
AND THAT will take us up to my next novel in progress.
I know a lot of you are curious about my performing life as opposed to my writing life.
That's why I wanted to share the links above, because that's where most of my performing info is located and posted.
Tata for now
So Much Love!
Erin
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