The pop in before the poop out.

Hey gang.
Here but fading.
Just wanted to give you a quick update.
This is a snippet I sent to a friend of mine becasue she has been bitching at me to send her some news (so actually more than one person may have gotten the same email.... SORRY!! :-(

Well, I stumbled late to the rehersal today where I was ordered into place as a 'background performer" (I told you show biz was glamorous!) during the final scene, but was proud as all hell because an improv line on my part actually became the scene stealer (when we all say at the same time about Miranda: OH MY GOD! SHE REALLY IS A LESBIAN!) which had Charlotte in stitches along with two other cast members who were in the audience. I felt kind of strange, being up on stage, a bit part, and having Charlotte say to everybody: " Guys guys! You had to see the expression on Hellophotokitty's face? OMG! It was so fucken priceless. I Do that move again!" I stood there - frozen, unable to speak. My moment of stage fright, looking not out to the empty room of battered and bent metal chairs, but having 10 professional actors looking at me me for this supposed comedic example. I took a deep breath and pulled my Jim Carrey elastic face and said my line and had the whole place in stitches. Just moments earlier, I was talking to one of the other actors and leaned over to him and said: "You don't know what a FUCKEN incredible rush this is, listening to people reciting and watching them act to the words you wrote! I can give you a history and timeline behind every line! And that was said at 5am, on a Friday morning, I remember it was a Friday because I saw the recycling outside..."

It was so strange, strange and intoxicating. The same feeling of intoxication when I saw my first film for the first time during the first public showing, at the university, on a screen that equals the one at the Paramount theater downtown. 500 people - sold out crowd. Saturday afternoon. And there it was - my baby, on the screen, my actress and I holding hands, remembering every moment of every frame of that film and all the love and pain that went into making that movie. We both wept at the end (the final denouement is quite powerful) and sat in the dark, hugging each other - exhausted, elated and euphoric over this film. From my hands, my vision, her interpretation of my life to my final stamp of approval. I was there, naked for all to see. A part of me shared with the world, and it was the most incredible thing I have ever felt. I have spoken with friends who have given birth and they have told me that I too, took this film to term and gave birth - the initial anxiety of the symbolic cutting of the cord - the separation of the creator from the creation, but the joy, oh the joy of watching take on a life of it's own and be showered with love.

Nothing has ever come close to that.
but today was pretty close.
And it was awesome.

We then rehearsed the scene where I play the Italian mother (to which I feared that I did not have enough of a 'Pasta fazoul' accent, but it just seemed to flow from me like Buttah) opposite Samantha and her Italian Lovah. We rehearsed out in the hallway and each time, I had both actors in stitches, and each time I would look at them with this honest to God look of bewilderment: What's so funny? I would ask, honestly not thinking it was that funny. P (the italian son) came up with the most brilliant line for this scene: When you are freaking out on me, why don't you say something like: Uncle Luigi is turning over in his grave he is so ashamed! And I would say - 'ma - he's still alive!" I can't tell you how hard we laughed over that one - it was a moment of brilliance that I would see happen throughout the rehersal. It was comedy in action. We loved it and we stuck with it. I was open to ideas right from the begining, and this was such a wonderful example of a collaborative efforet! Charlotte then asked us if we could do our little stchick. And so there I was, backstage, waiting for my Q, and off I went. A banshee possessed by the ghost of Medeterian Joan Crawford on acid, I ranted and wailed like a good old italian mother, with all the bizarre mannerisms and voice inflections of a bona fide Mamma Brava from Palermo. After it was over (and I had slapped my son across the head several times for being a brute), the laughter began. And it filled the room. Everybody was in stitches. I stood there, once again, with a nervous yet stunned 'deer in headlights' smile (not that deers smile when they are about to be blindsided by a 4x4) and just scanned the crowd. It was eerie. Everything happened so fast. There I was, writer, and actor, reading and acting my own line.
Trippy.

I then relaxed and took some pix. Once again, I got wrapped up in the moment. I'm attaching some of those pix for you to see, just because you have volunteered your ears and eyes to my incessant ramblings (I bet you are regretting having said: Yea, sure! You can vent/share/lean on me.......LOL) and well, you already know about me, hell, why stop there when you can have the whole freak show for the same price right?...

As I was saying...

So these pix were so intuitive, they caught me by surprise.
My art caught me by surprise.

So I am posting these pix.

I hope you enjoyed my re-cyled rant and I am off to beat the easter bunny for making those creepy runny looking Hershey cream eggs.

Ugh.