Unscripted

From A Mother On Mother's Day

For any mothers out there...or any fathers...or any people who have a mother or had a mother or a parent who fulfilled that mother-role. Happy Day To You. A friend of mine forwarded me this little Audrey Hepburn quote I find appropriate for today.

For attractive lips,
speak words of kindness...
For lovely eyes,
seek out the good in people.
For a slim figure,
share your food
with the hungry.
For beautiful hair,
let a child run his/her fingers through it once a day.
For poise,
walk with the knowledge that you never walk alone...
People, even more than things, have to be restored,
renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed;
never throw out anyone.

And from me to you...walk lightly on the earth today and kiss or hug someone you are grateful for.
I have had a beautiful Mother's Day ...and will continue to. 
--Eve White

You Read Everyone?

Is there anyone out there who reads every writer of this blog...? Maybe not all the time... But that has at one time or another...

That isn't a writer of this blog themselves.

If so... I'd love to hear from you, as I have a question I'd love answered...

Let me know if you qualify and are willing to possibly answer something.

-- Tom

Happy Joy

Music to read by: Happy happy. Joy joy.

"Are you happy?"

"Hope you're happy."

Recently a good friend wrote something to that effect in an email... And it's not like she's the only one that's ever written that to me, but it was on one of those days when I had to respond... Exactly what I wrote back, I've no real recollection, but it was something like...

"What does that mean am I happy?"

Sure, I know people who are "happy" a lot... Or put on a "happy face" every single time they're in public. But who can say they're "happy" as a sweeping statement?

Are there moments in my life when I smile...?
Sure, daily.

When I laugh?
Oh my, yes... I think I laugh extremely often.

Are there points where I laugh so hard I can hardly breathe...
When it feels like I'm so full of life I'm close to death... With an attack of some kind....?
When tears fill my eyes?
When I turn red...
When it feels like I'm going to explode...
Yup, probably monthly.

Am I "happy" in those moments, minutes and hours...
Yessir.
Yessir, I am.

However, if we aren't supposed to feel the other emotions, why would we have 'em? And quite honestly, if I were this "happy" thing all the time, I'm not sure I would get any writing done.

I'm sure there are "happy pills" out there... Medications that we could take to walk around without cares, with big dumb ass smiles across our faces...

Drugs that would make us oblivious to all other things around us.

She, my friend, shot me back an email, apologizing for being lazy using a super general word such as "happy" and said something to the effect of hoping I have joy, or hoping I'm living with joy.

Course my next question is...
Who is this Joy, and is she cute?

It wasn't my intent to chastise her for asking something that was completely good natured... It really was just me responding at a time when I was questioning... I do that... Question. And if you've been reading me for a while you know what hangs around my neck... An interrobang.

I didn't think much more on that email exchange till one night at my vocal coaching... We had warmed up. Stretched out. Ran through two songs... And still had 20 minutes left... So, I broke out a new song to me... Old to the world... "Make Someone Happy."

I'll record it some time soon... but I suppose the message that's relevant to this particular blog is that... " Make someone happy, Make just one someone happy, And you will be happy, too."

This week I finally got around to watching "The Bucket List..." I was happy to see two friends in it with speaking roles, I enjoyed several of the performances, teared up like a baby towards the end... But what has stuck with me was the theme of the film...

I suppose some people walked away thinking the theme was something like... "Life is short, accomplish what you want to accomplish..."

But to me, the theme was even more spelled out by Morgan Freeman's character talking about the beliefs of Ancient  Egyptians, and the two questions their souls were asked at heaven's gates... "Have you found joy in your life? " And second, "Has your life brought joy others?"

Now, while Jack Nickolson's character was  confused and had trouble answering the question... The moment I asked myself those two questions my answers were..."Yes." And "Without question, yes."

Being agnostic, I'm not one that's sure there's a heaven or gates to get through, but if there is... I'm now really hoping that those are the two questions asked, and only two questions asked...

So to my friend...
Yes, I'm continuing to find the joy in my own life.
And yes, I'm often doing my best to bring joy to others (and even animals)...

What are your answers?

-- Quiche Asking Questions ~ Tom Kiesche

Missing My First Love.

Great actors inspire. Right now I am watching "Shakespeare in Love" (one of my top 10 all-time faves). The movie itself is brilliant, and Dame Judi Dench ALWAYS gives me chills.

Lots of movies are clever - there are a number of cute camera tricks that can be done, and various takes edited together to create an interesting, sometimes compelling, glossy, commercial product. Every once in a while a memorable movie comes along that actually moves me in such a way that it stays with me for a while. It usually isn't one of the blockbusters.

But the actors? I find that the actors that are most compelling usually have a theatrical background. Theatre is tightrope-walking where your partner (in the scene) and your circumstance are your only safety net. It is only by trusting your partner and believing your given circumstance (i.e. the setting of the play) that you will make it to the other side of the rope alive. When strong theatrically-trained actors and actresses work onscreen, that commitment is evident. Yes, in film, they may have done 27 takes, but I truly believe that the discipline of working under constraints that allow only ONE TAKE pushes them further.

I miss theatre. For me, that is the where the essence of the craft (of acting) shows itself ...or doesn't. It can be the great equalizer between celebrities and actors. Those who are willing to bare their respective souls to show an audience how a person in the 'given circumstance' feels under those conditions. It has been said that "adversity introduces a man to himself" and once an actor has been introduced to him- or herself onstage and displays the process and aftermath publicly, what is there left to fear? All that's left is life.

15 years ago you never would have been able to convince me that one day I'd even enjoy classical theatre. All of those "thees" and "thous" worked my nerves. Then I saw a production of "Othello" performed by The Acting Company, and I understood that it wasn't really about the words, but about human behavior, which explains why people are able to watch, understand, and be emotionally affected by operas sung in languages different than their own. You may not get the nuances of the language, but all humans have access to the same emotional rainbow, and when someone feels something real, we know it. The story told via emotion made me want to know more about the words.

I've been away from the theatre for a few years now, and I miss it tremendously. Perhaps it's time for me to wend my way back.

--Nicole J. Butler

Sane Person Seeks Apartment

I've succeeded in sleeping until 2:15pm (a near-record for go-go-go manic me), and am now presently perched on my large red leather couch contemplating my breakfast-drink choices of a large coffee or a Heineken.  I'm a little stressed out at the moment, as any New Yorker might would be if they were facing roughly fourteen days to find a new apartment.

I've lived on the Upper West Side for two years now, and even though it's Breeder Central up here with all the baby strollers (which have unnervingly nearly doubled in numbers since April), and early-thirty-something couples brunching at all hours -- the location couldn't be more astoundingly beautiful.  After a year of living in creativity-sucking hell (i.e. functioning as a full-time Manhattan real estate agent), I was able to succeed in securing a fabulous two bedroom apartment in a brownstone in the West 80s not more than twenty steps from Central Park.  Bird-chirping-out-the-window tree-lined-street utopia.  While the location isn't really that central in regard to getting to auditions and such, I've grown to adore it.

Naturally, the "MOVE THE #*@& OUT" notice comes shortly thereafter.

I finally received a statement in my mailbox that the landlords (who live directly below me) are "renovating" my apartment, and thus while they've "enjoyed my stay", I have to get the heck out of here by June 1st.  Frankly, I'd bet money that these people aren't doing anything short of painting the walls before they hike the rent by  50% and some square iBanker couple moves in. 

Unfortunately, I fear I've steadily established myself as an insane person for the past two years.

Again, with these people living directly below me in a sound-seeping hundred-year-old brownstone, the singing of Weird Al Yankovic and likely every major song that ever hit Broadway at odd hours in my shower (I'm a belter), including usually switching dialects even sixteen bars or so (imagine Amish Paradise sung with a country accent, an Arabian accent, a Cockney British accent...), is something I can't imagine has gone over well.  We also have three pianos in this apartment, all of which are played on a regular basis.  Then there's the soirees I tend to throw (perhaps it was the firetruck/ambulance combo that came to the last one that caused this "renovation" decision), the loud talking to myself with the windows open (monologue practice), and the nineteen different psychotic roommates I've had move in and out in the past twenty four months. 

It could also be the fact that I trot up to top of the brownstone every month or so and "roof-hop".  Enough said.

Well, after laying all that out, I kinda can't blame them for kicking me out.  While I (usually) pay rent on time and have had ConEd shut off the power on only a few instances, I've been a pretty good tenant.  I haven't set anything on fire (that they know of), or pulled any practical jokes on them (that they can trace me to).  But the deal is over.  Lovely 1000 square foot two-bedder, you are no longer mine.

It'll be interesting where I end up next.  In the interim, since I absolutely refuse to deal with brokers -- I've concocted this new campaign that I'm posting all over the entirety of downtown.  It's the "Sane Person Seeks Apartment" campaign.  With the exception of this little old guy who chased me off his brownstone stoop on 22nd Street, it seems to be going over well.  Optimism and industrial strength duct tape shall prevail!

-- Ashley Avis

Birthday Girls

So, it's my sister's birthday today and my daughter's birthday tomorrow...
There's a whole princess themed party happening in my yard tomorrow.
(For the daughter, not the sister) Sister is getting champagne and a shopping trip with her big ol sis. I CANNOT believe my sister is 25 and my daughter is 3. Yowsa. Life is spinning way too fast.

SO MUCH TO DO.
Yesterday cleaned house. Check.
Today errands...balloons, pedicures, shopping and such. Leaving for that presently.
Tomorrow...work, then party.
Sunday special event at church...
This weekend is packed.
Catch y'all next week after I surface from party weekend....

--Eve White, party mama extraordinare!

More Encouragement, More Control

Over the weekend, I shot a USC graduate short as a favor to a friend who is in the directing program.  Actually, in some ways he did me a favor, because I like to work and I love being on set.  He'd never seen me act before and I didn't audition, so he took a leap of faith in asking me when he couldn't find the right fit.  Given my state of mind (one foot out the door) and shaken confidence,  I was not feeling at all good about my grasp on the role and since there was no rehearsal process, I was anxious that I wouldn't be able to pull it off.  When I arrived at the shoot, I realized I vaguely knew one of the other actors, and I don't know why but it made me even more nervous--I even started forgetting my lines.  And then I went into that awful head space where things like, "I'll feel embarrassed every time I see my friend now" to "my friend is going to think I'm an awful actor" began to override my concentration.  All this for a low-stress graduate film.  No wonder my panties are in a bunch.

You know who snapped me back and put me into the game?  My director.  He literally had a little "actors closet" (is this sounding familiar Quiche?!?) where he would meet with each of us after a take and give us notes, add a layer of emotion, encourage discussion and answer questions.  The takes got better and better as I got more comfortable and realized that everyone was working for the same goal and that I wasn't the only person getting notes.  By the time we wrapped, I felt pretty darn good, in fact, and I remembered that one of my strong suits is taking direction on a dime.  Point numero uno being that I remembered I had a strong suit.   

Anyway, more encouragement came from the director today via email.  Apparently his classmates and professor liked the film so much at the screening that they dubbed it the best acted film of the semester.  There were some other nice compliments relayed about my particular scenes, but that's not why I'm sharing this.  This is not some attempt to market myself or to secure bragging rights.  It's a student film for heaven's sake.  I'm hoping to take you on the journey of my attempt to lasso my confidence again while the horse I'm riding is trying to buck me off for good.  Yee haw and all that.

Anyway, as I make more and more decisions about what (and who) is being cut out of my life, I feel a strong sense of control replacing the frenzied feelings of the last few months.  I'm feeling calmer.  I'm breathing.  And that is the best state of mind to be in when making important decisions.

--Stacey Jackson

Dying Is Easy - Comedy Is Hard

Last night's CSI was a cornucopia of blog fodder – and I'm not talking about Gary Dourdan’s felony drug charges (which is sad, because I like the show and him in it).

Diedrich Bader (a former star-crush of mine) was in the episode.  He's funny in a sort of unfunny, possibly too-obvious way…  So, I got to thinking about the many sizes and shapes of comedy.  Then I saw Katey Sagal, who reminded me of a great story I’d heard a while back (I’ll get to that shortly) that is also about acting and humor and the unexpected.  And, as all this was starting to percolate in my head, someone said the famous line: “Dying is easy – comedy is hard”.

And everything sort of bizarrely fell into place. 

Years ago on some show, a producer or director for Married With Children shared a great anecdote about Ms. Sagal’s audition for them.  The script painted Peg Bundy as a trashy, lazy, unsatisfied housewife, and all the actresses auditioning for the role had played the character in that most obvious way.  But Katey Sagal (I hope I'm remembering this accurately enough) walked into the room dressed  sort of like a bargain-basement June Cleaver knock-off.  Which seemed completely incongruous with the dialog, and yet… it popped.  Not only did she stand out as an actress, but now there were suddenly also layers to this character as well – facets that the writers had not yet plumbed in the early stages of the project.  And this marriage of actor, director and writers created a whole new being.

A couple years ago I took two classes back-to-back and worried about getting mixed messages and becoming confused.  Instead, a theme emerged in both:  Don't beat the audience over the head with the obvious.  Always yelling angry lines is over-kill, making a sad character mopey is boring, etc.  Doing less – or possibly just doing things differently – is more.

So, yes, comedy (perhaps all acting and characterization [but probably comedy mostly]) is hard. Now, maybe Katey Sagal knew a woman just like this as a kid so the script resonated with her and it was an totally instinctual choice – but how many other talented actresses got skipped over because they lacked the indescribable? 

To them/us it ain't always so easy. 

--Susan Atwood

PS - Also in last night's episode was a former cast-mate of mine from a show I did years ago in Brooklyn.  Congratulations!
 

Postcards

Self-promotion never ends... I've been sending out postcards for well over a decade. Designing. Labeling. Stamping. Spending... The inevitable question: Does it work? Does spending the time, efforts and money in sending out postcards work? 

Does it change a Casting Professional's perception of you? Does it remind an Assistant that you saw at a Casting Workshop of who you are? Will it cross the "right" desk at the "right" time... The answer...

I don't really know.

What I do know...

* I've been able to carve a living as an actor for a while now.
* I need to feel like I'm doing something in order to stave off "unproductive" feelings.
* I can't imagine a reminder that I exist, that I'm still kicking, that I'm still being productive, that I'm still being hired, that I'm being hired for bigger and bigger roles, that I'm starting to do more film work... That any of that could possibly be a bad thing.

It's not as tax deductible as it used to be, both legally and personally. And if you don't know what the ALT MIN tax is yet, someday you will. And just because something is "tax deductible," doesn't mean it's the same thing as having that money in your pocket. Making 60K a year with no expenses is a heck of a lot better than making 80K with 20K in expenses, or 90K with 30K.... Or whatever numbers you put in there... 

I barely remember the days I sold pharmaceuticals. Those days when I got a salary and had an expense account... But I do remember how sweet it was to get those expense checks, and steady direct deposit checks every other week... That my friends was SWEET.

Anyway, postcards to 70 Casting Directors will go out later today...

Yesterday I was back in the closet, recording a new song. This time with another friend. A professional singer who gigs out all the time, and who is currently working on her third solo album... The experience was humbling. Currently she's recording in professional studios, with a sound engineer, producer and live musicians... Even though she knew what she was getting into, literally a closet, it took her a few takes to realize we were actually singing in a closet. That I was the untrained amateur technician. That the "muzak" "karaoke" that cost me $70 to have my coach record playing through our headphones was what we were indeed singing to. She was a super sport and we laughed a lot... Hopefully we'll be shooting the video (another no budget no crew exploit) soon!

I had a thought of making "Closet Singer" postcards as another something to send out in the future... And I'm pretty sure that if I could actually get a few CDs to watch a few of those posted on YouTube, some perceptions of "Tom Kiesche" may indeed change... Though I'm not sure if that'd be good or bad.

Alien Hunter, Mover, Cop, Closet Singer...

-- Quiche Me A Postcard ~ Tom Kiesche

Feelin' Grrrrreat!

I woke up feeling Grrrrreat this morning. Refreshed, renewed...like *myself* again. The sickness is gone except for the cough.

My car is still in the shop, but I spoke to the mechanic and it turns out the my extended warranty (my car is 6 yrs. old) will cover $964 worth of repairs!! All I have to pay is the $100 deductible, and the cost of putting in a new battery (old one was on its last legs). How blessed am I? Sometimes it all works out, doesn't it? I guess it always works out, one way or another...

I haven't had an audition in 2 weeks, and honestly, I'm glad, because had I booked something during week one I would have had to shoot it while sick, and if I had had an audition during week two, I would have sucked. Again, sometimes it all works out because--I HAVE AN AUDITION FOR "E.R." on Monday, and I am so excited! This week of rest has done me good, because I am rarin' to go. I'm going to work on these two little lines like nobody's business. My goal is ALWAYS to book at least one job a month. This is month 5 and I have 2 bookings for this year, so I'm waaay behind. Actually, I've never hit that goal (12 bookings in a year) yet, but I keep striving for it. It's time.

I always get copies of the commercials I shoot, but I've had trouble chasing the latest two down. Today I finally got in contact with the woman who can get me a copy of the Gain commercial, but she said she can't release it until it airs (because they might make changes) and it won't air for a while, so I should call her in two months. TWO MONTHS? Dang. I'm still trying to track down the other spot - it's regional and will only air in Utah, Washington State, Oregon, and... somewhere else - I forget. So if any of you readers live in one of those states and see the spot, please let a sista know it's running, okay? I would really appreciate it.

Alright, I need to get to bed. Don't want to overdo it, plus I have to meet with my trainer tomorrow. I'm so proud of myself for getting into shape the right way. I eat right (mostly), and though I've only lost 5 lbs. in 6 weeks, I don't care because my clothes are starting to fit differently, my waistline has reappeared, and I can see the difference in overall muscle tone. Plus, I'd rather do it slowly and make changes that will stick than just starve to fit in size 7 jeans, be miserable, then get out of shape again. Day by day.

Okay, nighty-night y'all.

--Nicole J. Butler