Oh Freedom...my little truck

This is my truck. So much for spiritual asceticism: I am ecstatic about this new toy. Freedom and mobility on my own terms and timetable. Yes, this aspect of Self is a Material Girl. Thrilled by this gift.

The Fund Raising Letter, which asked $700, has netted over $900! Again, Material Girl is...what's the saying? "over the moon"?

I'm attending the Theater of the Oppressed training in Port Townsend WA in June probably/possibly driving my own truck to get there.

And even though these are worldly goods, my Spirit is revelling.

We Cry When Moved

Fat day for the psyche.... Tears.

...for the loneliness of the road as I drove to ballet class this morning. The usual bumper-to-bumper queue didn't happen. Where was everyone? Their absence somehow inspired my thoughts toward a prayer for each of us in our essential alone-ness.

...for the pain... This morning's class was special, marked by first-time interactions among the students and between them and myself as we waited for Barbara, the instructor, to arrive, finally speaking our names to each other after two months of dancing alone together. Everyone's game was elevated today: the instructor taught better, the students danced better and I played better than ever before.

Something marvelous was afoot. Some students quietly departed at 9:30, the official ending time; but Barbara was on a roll. I don't think she even realized it was time to stop. Most of the students kept working with her.

Then, at 9:50, the next instructor entered the studio. Her face told the story. Talking over Barbara, she said, "Barbara, my class begins in 10 minutes." Barbara nodded and kept teaching. Then, in a move that took my breath for its violence, she began pulling the huge drapes, covering the mirrored walls, abruptly obscuring the dancers' and Barbara's view of themselves.

They finished the sequence...a few dancers turned to thank me -- with eyes, clasped hands, bowed heads, silent mouthed "thank yous"...

...for a wallop of insight while listening to the radio in the car after class. A talk show. A caller opined that "things" were better in the old days when the government maintained schools and parks and roads and libraries. A well-paid (in this time of economic stress for so many) "expert" chuckled and proceeded to enumerate the flaws in that bygone "utopian" system, explaining that progress has meant the ascendancy of private over public...

...stopping at the Post Office to drop a birthday card for my father. After decades of estrangement, we are reunited, talking by phone at least once a week. The sweet, simple, profound, soul "yummy" of sending a birthday card to "Daddy."

...finding a Wendell Berry poem in my email-box. Berry at his wildest and most righteous. Reprinted below. Thank you, Y.

Are there more tears to be shed today?

---

Manifesto: Mad Farmer Liberation Front

Wendell Berry

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,

vacation with pay. Want more

of everything ready-made. Be afraid

to know your neighbors and to die.

And you will have a window in your head.

Not even your future will be a mystery

any more. Your mind will be punched in a card

and shut away in a little drawer.

When they want you to buy something

they will call you. When they want you

to die for profit they will let you know.

So, friends, every day do something

that won't compute. Love the Lord.

Love the world. Work for nothing.

Take all that you have and be poor.

Love someone who does not deserve it.

Denounce the government and embrace

the flag. Hope to live in that free

republic for which it stands.

Give your approval to all you cannot

understand. Praise ignorance, for what man

has not encountered he has not destroyed.

Ask the questions that have no answers.

Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias.

Say that your main crop is the forest

that you did not plant,

that you will not live to harvest.

Say that the leaves are harvested

when they have rotted into the mold.

Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.

Put your faith in the two inches of humus

that will build under the trees

every thousand years.

Listen to carrion -- put your ear

close, and hear the faint chattering

of the songs that are to come.

Expect the end of the world. Laugh.

Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful

though you have considered all the facts.

So long as women do not go cheap

for power, please women more than men.

Ask yourself: Will this satisfy

a woman satisfied to bear a child?

Will this disturb the sleep

of a woman near to giving birth?

Go with your love to the fields.

Lie down in the shade. Rest your head

in her lap. Swear allegiance

to what is nighest your thoughts.

As soon as the generals and the politicos

can predict the motions of your mind,

lose it. Leave it as a sign

to mark the false trail, the way

you didn't go.

Be like the fox

who makes more tracks than necessary,

some in the wrong direction.

Practice resurrection.

The Fund-Raising Letter

The Mandala Center for change (Port Townsend, WA) is offering a week-long training in Theater of the Oppressed techniques in June. From the moment I read the announcement, there wasn't a doubt in my mind -- I need to be there. I will be there.

To raise funds for registration and transportation costs, I sent a group letter to people who either know me or know my work enough to agree with me as to the perfection and value of this opportunity presenting at this point in my career.


Voices yammered in my head as I composed the letter -- "You don't know how to write a fund-raising letter.....people will hate you....this isn't how real artists make money...this is going to hurt when nobody contributes....." I kept writing and the yammering kept me humble.

Here's some of what I wrote:

Dear Friends

In two weeks, I will have been away from New Orleans for one year... I left New Orleans with tears in my eyes; I hated leaving but had reached the end of the line after struggling mightily for almost a year to support myself. My plan was to live rent-free in CA, take any job I could find, save up my money and return to New Orleans to give it another try.

The Big Hand had a different itinerary in mind. The unexpected theme this year became Artistic Growth. In the last 12 months I have received introductory training in Non-Violent Communication, completed three Landmark Education courses, written and performed a debut draft of a one-woman show, composed six new songs, studied Interplay techniques, and designed and directed a Theater-of-the-Oppressed experience,

As for finding work: I facilitated five improv/body-based workshops and presented as "artist in the pulpit" at three Unitarian Universalist churches. Besides those one-shot gigs, I play piano two mornings a week for ballet classes at Cabrillo College. If not for food stamps, occasional monetary donations from dear friends, the use of my host's beater car and a rent-free living space, I might have gone under this year.

I'm writing now because I am raising funds to attend this year's Theater of the Oppressed/Playback Theater training in Port Townsend, WA. From the moment I learned of this training, I knew I had to attend. I just got off the phone with Marc Weinblatt, the Director of the Mandala Center for Change. Our conversation ...strengthened my resolve to do whatever it takes to be there.

Some of you may know that I am dreaming and scheming to bring Non Violent Communication to New Orleans when I return. The training in Port Townsend feels to me like the perfect kick-start for making this dream real.

... the fee for this training is $475 ($425 if paid by 30 April). The Center handles registration on an honor system: pay what you can. It's operated under this policy for 20 years.

On my current $200/month salary, I cannot easily pay anything at all toward this fee. In addition, there are transportation costs associated. Airfare (based on a search one hour ago) is about $250+ taxes. I have no idea whether it's less expensive to drive (890 miles) but I am willing to drive if it is. My estimate of how much I need is $700 -- $300 for transportation and $400 for the Mandala Center for Change.

You can help in one of two ways:

1. Host/produce a performance opportunity for me, i.e., a living-room concert, a special event at your church or club, a "special guest" for something already scheduled. My preference would be that you do not charge admission but let people know we will pass the hat at the end of the show. ...
   
2. Make a donation of any amount. If you choose this option, please know that the amount of your contribution (but not your name) will be reported to all the other recipients of this message (if you have another idea on how to make this process as transparent and honorable as possible, I'm open to suggestions). ...
   

Thank you very much for reading this long-ish letter. Thank you for making a donation, hosting an event or holding me in light in your heart.

Response

It's been four days since I sent the letter. Of the 66 recipients, an astounding 28 (42%) have already responded. Nine people (13%) have pledged a specific monetary contribution and five others (8%) say they will send "something". I have nothing to compare these statistics to but they far outstrip my expectations.

The average contribution is $99.

The most surprising aspects of this project:

1. Six of the people making contributions didn't even know me a year ago.
2. I did not include a mailing address or instructions on how to contribute in the letter.
3. A handful of people (including two family members) expressed barely-masked disdain in their reply emails, hoping that this will be the last time I have to "ask for help".
4. Seven people have commended my innovative approach to fund-raising, saying they wish they had the courage or had thought of it themselves.
   

Just Don't Look Up

I found my tarot cards. Besides the sweet surprise of rediscovering something I'd forgotten I had, there's the enjoyable bonus of playing with the cards. My deck is Kris Waldherr's Goddess Tarot. Contemplating the deck perhaps a decade after acquiring it, some of the images are more evocative than I remember; still, the choice of deck is mostly reflective of how drenched in CA culture I was at the time.

I pulled two cards a moment ago: the Two of Cups and the Seven of Pentacles (images in this blog post are not from the Waldherr deck). One interpretation of the Two of the Cups has a noteworthy relevance to my post earlier this week: "Willing to Reconsider"

The Two of Cups shows that a deep understanding is set to develop. Be prepared to see the other point of view....

Yes....that's what I want "other people" to do and this card encourages me to be about nurturing the same capacity within myself.

Drawing the Seven of Pentacles today is also timely: I woke up intending to blog about an interview with filmmaker Steven Soderbergh that I heard recently on New York public radio. Specifically, I was struck by his comment

"I'm a big believer in just not looking up from your work. Just stay focused on what you're doing and don't get distracted by the other stuff."

I heard a similar rigorous injunction in Steven Pressfield's book "the War of Art." Pressfield's discussion focuses on "resistance" but in many instances "distraction" can be substituted without perverting the message.

"Resistance seems to come from outside ourselves. We locate it in spouses, jobs, kids... Resistance arises from within. It is self-generated and self-perpetuated. ... Resistance will tell you anything to keep you from doing your work..."

I know what he's talking about. When I'm not doing my work, the distraction is rarely shopping or watching TV or gambling or drinking or talking on the phone or hanging out in the FaceBook Lounge. For me, it is the folly, analysis, conjecture, reminiscence, etc. fabricated in my own mind that lures me away.

I never feel I work hard enough. I never feel I'm focused or devoted enough.

The message of the Seven of Pentacles is "Harvest the rewards but don't rest on your laurels." An online tarot site interprets:

This card is a clear sign that you should ...continue on your path, any frustrations should be laughed off, ... This card arrives just prior to very well laid plans coming to fruition and a celebration is indicated.

If I set aside all the stuff in my head that has nothing to do with being a transformative artist, it's clear that the work I'm doing now is continuation, culmination and celebration of the plantings and harvests of my whole life. I like being reminded.

A Prayer

Doing some filing and just found this prayer from a service I did with Rev. Kay Jorgensen and Sister Carmen Barsody, OSF back in 2004 at the San Francisco Unitarian Universalist Society. Right on time...

Now we leave this place to rejoin the world.
Let us walk faithfully
attentively
humbly abandoning our illusions of certainty...again and again
Embracing the vital Mystery...again and again
May we listen closely to the song and the silence at the Heart of the World and thus renew our faith
And may the peace that passes understanding
fill our hearts and guide our thoughts until we meet again.
Amen.

Willing to Reconsider

My heart hurts when I think about us.

Certainly we don't really want to hurt others. We don't really want to live surrounded by people while isolated from them.

And yet...

We see what we see. We believe what we believe. We think we're right. Of course we do.

And maybe we are right. But maybe we aren't.

There's so much more room, so much more possible between us if we can only allow that maybe we aren't right.....

Maybe the third man from the left in the ninth row isn't bored by my performance (as I assumed); maybe his only brother died last week and he's numb.

Maybe there was no hidden agenda or innuendo (as you assumed) when I asked if you lived alone.

Maybe she's not ungrateful; maybe she declined your invitation because she just doesn't like dinner parties.

My heart hurts. It's time to close FaceBook again.

Make It Happen

I've been on the road a bit for a few weeks and, outside of playing around with a couple of song lyric ideas, I haven't been writing.

Until today. What I worked on today appears below. When I finished it, I realized there's actually some stuff up with me worth blogging....so here's this for now and I'll share the rest tonight or tomorrow.

---------

Dear Friends

In two weeks, I will have been away from New Orleans for one year. It has been an amazing year. I left New Orleans with tears in my eyes; I hated leaving but had reached the end of the line after struggling mightily for almost a year to support myself. My plan was to live rent-free in CA, take any job I could find, save up my money and return to New Orleans to give it another try.

The Big Hand had a different itinerary in mind. The unexpected theme this year became Artistic Growth. In the last 12 months I have received introductory training in Non-Violent Communication, completed three Landmark Education courses, written and performed a debut draft of a one-woman show, composed six new songs, studied Interplay techniques, and designed and directed a Theater-of-the-Oppressed experience,

As for finding work: I facilitated five improv/body-based workshops and presented as "artist in the pulpit" at three Unitarian Universalist churches. Besides those one-shot gigs, I play piano two mornings a week for ballet classes at Cabrillo College. If not for food stamps, occasional monetary donations from dear friends, the use of my host's beater car and a rent-free living space, I might have gone under this year.

I'm writing now because I am raising funds to attend this year's Theater of the Oppressed/Playback Theater training in Port Townsend, WA. From the moment I learned of this training, I knew I had to attend. I just got off the phone with Marc Weinblatt, the Director of the Mandala Center for Change. Our conversation -- about the trainers and participants from all over the world who will be there, the Center's philosophy as re Theater of the Oppressed, as well his affirmations of my conviction that art, performance, Theater of the Oppressed and Non-Violent Communication are strong, essential tools for all social activism -- have strengthened my resolve to do whatever it takes to be there.

Some of you may know that I am dreaming and scheming to bring Non Violent Communication to New Orleans when I return. The training in Port Townsend feels to me like the perfect kick-start for making this dream real.

If you followed the link above, you know that the fee for this training is $475 ($425 if paid by 30 April). The Center handles registration on an honor system: pay what you can. It's operated under this policy for 20 years.

On my current $200/month salary, I cannot easily pay anything at all toward this fee. In addition, there are transportation costs associated. Airfare (based on a search one hour ago) is about $250+ taxes. I have no idea whether it's less expensive to drive (890 miles) but I am willing to drive if it is. My estimate of how much I need is $700 -- $300 for transportation and $400 for the Mandala Center for Change.

You can help in one of two ways:

1. Host/produce a performance opportunity for me, i.e., a living-room concert, a special event at your church or club, a "special guest" for something already scheduled. My preference would be that you do not charge admission but let people know we will pass the hat at the end of the show. If you're interested in this option, we can talk about what kind of show would work best. Total proceeds will be reported to all the other recipients of this message. In this way, we'll all know when the goal is met.
   
2. Make a donation of any amount. If you choose this option, please know that the amount of your contribution (but not your name) will be reported to all the other recipients of this message (if you have another idea on how to make this process as transparent and honorable as possible, I'm open to suggestions). In this way, we'll all know when the goal is met.
   

Thank you very much for reading this long-ish letter. Thank you for making a donation, hosting an event or holding me in light in your heart.

Sincerely







I also wrote to the Director:

Marc

Thank you for calling today. Since first reading the announcement about the upcoming training, I've felt it was important to my growth as an artist that I attend. Now I know what I need to do to make that happen.

My fundraising efforts started five minutes after our conversation ended. I've raised $100 so far. My goal is to raise the full registration fee plus travel expense. As a proud member of the CouchSurfing.org community I will try to arrange housing through that resource.

If I raise less than $475 for registration, I can either a) do work exchange (see skill set below) for the balance, and/or b) pay off the balance by Thanksgiving in monthly installments. If I'm unable to find a CS member in the area with an opening, I will request homestay through Mandala Center.

My skills include:

• musician: singer, songwriter, pianist, guitarist
  
• administrative/clerical: type 90 wpm, high computer literacy (spreadsheets, presentations, Internet, sound recording, database, etc) and math skills (QuickBooks, basic accounting)
  
• Good people skills: workshop facilitator, greeter, information desk, tour guide, "sounding board," mediation
• highly organized, mature, imaginative
  

I am also happy to walk dogs, wash dishes, set up chairs, etc.

Please let me know if I left anything out.

Alex

Trying to be Grateful

The question facing me lately is this: with things going so well in CA and a seemingly unending series of new opportunities presenting to me here

how do I justify my continued longing for New Orleans?

At the risk of being perceived as ungrateful, here's my latest peeve about CA (compared to New Orleans):

People and their pets. I am house-and-animal-sitting for some new friends. The detailed information sheet on how to care for the pets is a little bit funny to me--one cat is to be fed "a little less than a third cup" canned food and is not allowed outdoors while care is taken to prop the garage door open just wide enough to allow the other two cats 24/7 access to outdoors while preventing the dogs entrance to the garage (also known as Kitty Kingdom)--

but I was actually annoyed with the dogs this morning. These two large mixed breed animals are apparently most comfortable when hanging around indoors all day following a human around. They seemed utterly confused yesterday to find themselves outdoors alone after I fed them. It was a warm, beautiful day and, yet, they stood at the patio door morosely staring inside for hours.

I compare this with my experience in New Orleans and along the Gulf Coast where lots of dogs never see the inside of a house. Some live their whole lives as "yard dogs," chained to a tree or doghouse. "For God sake! Go act like dogs...."

This morning it's about 57 degrees outside with a light mist hanging and one of these animals actually pawed the glass door and barked a "Let me in!" plea after gobbling down his morning rations.

I'm not taking a stand on anything here or launching a full tilt bitch session. Just identifying one more "sissy" characteristic of CA and missing my piano (still in the crowded living room of a former piano student who lives in New Orleans) this morning....