Thursday, January 19, 2012


There’s a lot of talk these days about transformation. Transformation indicates that something that exists is replaced by something else. I prefer to consider expansion. Expansion indicates that there is already something in existence that emerges and becomes larger.
What if we are already in possession of the power, ability, beauty, health and peace of mind that we desire? What if we have smothered these things with erroneous thinking and behavioral habits? What if we simply (simple isn’t necessarily easy) take the steps to remove the blockages so that our true nature can emerge, so that the seeds of who we want to be can flourish with the light of love and acceptance?

Friday, September 30, 2011



Is it because I’m extraordinarily beautiful, a great singer, dancer, sports star, a published poet, a politician who promises to save the world, a brilliant scientist, a famous actor? I can’t bill myself as any of the above.

The reason anyone would want to come to see me is that they would experience someone with whom they could empathize with, identify with, be moved by, and perhaps be amused by. What I hope to offer is authenticity. I am authentically a person who has had many experiences, who is highly emotional, sensitive, passionate and expressive.  AND I’m learning that what I am at center is Source Energy.

 I want to create a space where others can also express themselves – interactive theater. I’m willing to take a risk in doing this piece. For sure, I’d prefer to have it be successful, but I’m willing to have it bomb. It’s part of my practice, my evolution.

Thursday, September 29, 2011

It crept up on me
I was young
Somewhat of a brat
Cokes after school
At Dake’s drugstore
Flirting with boys

Before I could catch my breath
I was married
On a hot day
Wearing a borrowed wedding dress
That I hated

Fast forward to a different husband
A daughter
Dream come true
A daughter I could name after my dead mother

A son

Along the way
Lots of lovers
None of them quite the One
Although each time I hoped

Son and daughter grown and gone

Where did they go?

He’s the One

We moved west together

Who am I?
Where do I belong?

Who is this woman with wrinkled arms and legs and face?

Who is this woman with more gray than black in her hair?

Body hasn’t been slim for years

So many things I can no longer do
Cartwheels, handstands, backbends
Full lotus

I am bound by regrets
For the foolish things like cartwheels
That I don’t do

Then I berate myself for
Regretting the smooth skin

I tell myself to be grateful
For my good health
For the many things my body can do

I tell myself to be grateful
For so many many joys
Son and daughter
Great  grand children

They’re far away
These great-grandchildren
They don’t know me
I don’t know them

My fourth husband is aging
His body is compromised
Heart, kidneys, prostrate

They don’t work all that well

He’s had to have several teeth removed

I don’t hear so well
I’m considering a hearing aid

If I start to wear a hearing aid
I’ll know I’m no longer young.

I’m sorry God
I’m sorry that I’m not more grateful
For what I do have

The brain still works fairly well
Although I forget more and more words
They sit on the tip of my tongue

The weird thing is
I’m happier now than when I was
Supple, smooth and slim

I no longer have days and days
Of deep depression

I no longer have nights and nights
Of desperation

I’m trying God
I’m trying to accept
The aging process

I’m trying to
Grow old with grace
Humor, and gratitude

Tuesday, September 27, 2011


My body prepares for mothering
I cannot sleep

I watch breasts fill with unwanted milk
Belly rounds, softens

All night I hear the child whisper within me
Will I ever sleep again?

My church demands
Life is life, thou shalt not kill
But surely God would not demand I birth this child.
Surely God would understand

In the clinic
The clean white clinic
They dress me in a clean white gown and
The clean white doctor with no face leans over me, and
The clean white nurse with her voice of comfort and no face
Holds my hand
When the quick deep pain comes, I squeeze her hand
So hard I think it might break

She doesn’t cry out
I don’t cry out
I think I hear the baby cry one long howl of protest

But how can it?
It has no mouth yet
The clean white social worker at the clinic
Tells me it has no mouth yet.

They wheel my empty body away
I lie in a row with the others
Neatly in a clean white row
We of the gutted bodies

Where do they throw away the dead babies?
I forgot to ask.
I’ll never know where my baby is.
I light a candle for it in church every week.

A Bumblebee
This is about a bumblebee.

She is a multidimensional bumblebee, and
Like all bumblebees, she doesn’t know she is aerodynamically unable to fly
So she flies

She flies to find honey
She seeks honey, not only from myriads of flowers, but from stones and stars, snails and whales, clouds and crayfish
And everywhere she goes, she finds honey.

If you look closely, you may notice the body of this multidimensional bumblebee is a bit tattered
Her wings are a bit frayed
Her eyesight has dimmed with age
And yet she believes she is young and beautiful
And so she is

She buzzes indignantly when some flashy butterfly derides her, or when a human swats at her with one of those vicious swatters they’ve invented to put bumblebees in their proper place, which is, of course, OUT, because they are such a nuisance with their buzzing and sipping

This particular bumble will probably dodge all her would-be assailants, because just as she doesn’t know she is unable to fly, she doesn’t know she is destined to die.

So on she goes, season after season, buzzing and sipping, soaring and spiraling, singing her own version of whatever national anthem suits the moment.

The Vision

Last night I subbed for a yoga class at South West Community Center.

After the class, one of the students engaged me in conversation. This was the second time she’d had a class with me teaching. I discovered that she is friends with Jeff and Debbie! Among other things, we talked about the one-woman show I am writing, and she gave me a great idea! I’m truly excited. Now I know exactly what I am going to do.

This will be interactive, improvisational theater.
I will start with a script, maybe "perform" a couple of poems that say it all - like A BUMBLEBEE.
I will tell the audience who we are – that we are all connected. Like organs in a body, each one functions independently and inter-dependently. I will invite the audience to write a question or a statement on a piece of paper that will be provided. Then I will respond with action, story, sounding and/or dancing - whatever is inspired by the question or statement. I will ask Timothy and/or another musician to improvise with music. There will be opportunity for those who wish to improvise along with me.

I see myself in costume – a long flowing gown, one side is black; the other is white – yin/yang.

I would have this produced in Nia's Studio B and be paid for by donation.  After deducting  a percentage to the musician(s) and any outgoing expenses, all profit will go to Nia. 

It would be good to do this at least twice.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

What do I really want to say to the world?

I want to say that we humans have the potential to live a beautiful life as co-creators. I consciously believe we are truly connected. Since I don’t always act that way, I suspect that subconsciously, I believe differently. I suspect that subconsciously I don’t trust others and even myself.

AND, I am doing my best to bring the conscious belief in love and connection to my subconscious so that I can act on this belief and share it.

I believe that our hope as humanity lies in the concept that we are all One, that we are connected.

Okay, so I could just sit on stage and say what I’ve just said, share the many poems and pieces saying the same thing in different ways. BUT I also want to entertain you and stimulate you as I entertain and stimulate myself. I want to share the flow of thoughts and experiences that travel through me at breakneck speed. I am constantly entertaining and stimulating myself. I’m thoroughly enjoying the process of writing, writing, writing.

So, now that I’ve answered the question:

Today I was listening to the radio as I was driving. It was an interview with a poet who has dyslexia. He told how difficult it was for him as a child. He finally learned to read, and it is still a slow process for him. There is something missing in his brain. It’s a neurological situation. He has compensated for this birth situation (I hate the word “defect”) and does read. He also writes poetry.

I thought about my friend and teacher who tells us that she had to compensate for dyslexia as well as some other difficulties. As I’ve heard tell in many such cases, she not only compensated, she has become outstanding in many ways. She functions brilliantly.

I thought about my own abilities. Almost everything on a physical and mental level has actually come fairly easily to me. I am flexible, well-coordinated and well-balanced. I am attractive and healthy. I never had to work hard to excel in sports or dance. Mentally I was equally agile. I was an outstanding student with little effort. I had talent as a graphic artist. I write easily and quickly learned how to spell and punctuate. I did have to put in some effort to learn lines as an actor, and I couldn’t bill myself as a singer. Neither of those small difficulties kept me off a stage or film.

SO, I didn’t work at much of anything. Although it’s been pleasant to have things come easily to me, I suspect that if I had to work harder to achieve what I wanted, perhaps I would have become more skillful than I am. Maybe I would have become outstanding instead of just a bit beyond mediocre.

HOWEVER, there’s no point in the game of “If only…”  I’d rather play the game of “I’m not separate.”

If I’m not separate, I can truly enjoy how others live their lives. I can benefit internally, empathize and identify with them with passion and compassion.