Konichiwa Detroit

The first night was so strange in fact, that Thelma and Louise went back to their hotel and made some photographic history themselves.

Little did they know that night two would be even more interesting than the first...

a night in detroit - part one of a number that I have'nt decided upon yet...

I'm going to tell you about my Detroit trip in bits and pieces. My stuffy head and post-nasal drip keep me from typing at an even keel, so this writer will do what she can with the amount of energy she has at the present moment to begin the story...

It was a total fluke that I got my pieces into Dirty Detroit.
Not just one photo, but two!

The news came a day after Bruce from SEAF called me. He loved my merchandise so much last year, that he "absolutely without a doubt wanted more items" for his store this year.

pleased as punch was I

Although I didn't get into SEAF 07, I wasn't too surprised or disappointed.
One less trip to Seattle

How odd that a year later, this stuff is just starting to sink in. The realization that my art is out there for people to see - and in the U.S of all places!

shunned by her fellow Canadians, erotic photographer turns her sights south of the border for exposure...

Almost a year to this day, my photo was being hung at the largest Erotic art festival in North America, and was also chosen to be showcased during auction night (and due to a administrative glitch, was supposed to receive the Jury Pick of the Auction , but didn't) - but just the mere fact that my shit was there still blows my mind.




In keeping with my title of Ms. Procrastination, I missed the Dirty Detroit deadline by a few days, but decided that I had nothing to lose with an apologetic email as to why I was late, with my bio, artistic blurb, and two pictures. Closed my eyes, clicked send and hoped for the best.

An email from the festival arrived the next day.

Oh, another 'thanks for sending your stuff but you're too late Chuck!" went through my mind, but it was in fact, an personal note from the organizer saying how much they loved my stuff and congrats! I was in the show!



Had you asked me a year ago if I ever thought I'd be hauling my ass out to Seattle last minute for a show, my response would have fallen along the lines of: "You gotta be kidding me? What's there to see in Seattle besides the Space Needle?" but there I was , 365 days later, on a plane to Washington state.


Experience has taught me to roll with the punches and hop on the planes of fate whenever they fly by, whichever direction they fly me to.


This year was motor city - Detroit


A little background to this story:

Stephanie and I had been flickr buddies for almost two years, admiring each other's work and building our own little network of "women who use photography/self-portraiture as healing". Trish was woman #3.

As with all my latest developments, I posted the news that my images (on flickr) were off to Detroit. The next day, another surprise email:

"if you could make it half-way, would a lift there and back sound like a plan to you?"

Detroit?
(and in my best Linda Richmond voice)
Bubbalah? Who knew?!

Steph was offering a ride down and split the cost of gas and Hotel. From where she lived, the trip was a mere 4 hours, and would give her the opportunity to take a much needed break from her work, the chance to see the show and the opportunity to meet Trish who's work we had come to admire.

"all passengers now boarding for Detroit - a trip/experience of a lifetime in the making..."

The next morning, I traded in my casual 9 t0 5 for panic/express mode:
#1 rush print images to lab
#2 find frames and mats
#3 cut mats and then assemble frames
#4 rush to UPS store 4 packing and shipping (I didn't have much time to prepare beforehand because I had to send it ''non rush' - 3-5 days. The $170+ for overnight service was the cost of my buss ticket!)
#5 and then make plans for trip.


My 35th birthday was a turning point for me in many ways, and one of the most important life lessons I learned was without a doubt - trusting my instincts.

You have to take a leap and know that a net will always appear

That now famous line which Samantha Jones shared with Carrie Bradshaw


Well, the results speak for themselves: Cuba, New York City expositions # 1 through 3, my runaway hit play -Sex and La Cité, Seattle, Madame X - my first solo exhibition in April in NYC.

...
...

Holy Crap! That's next month!!!!!

None of these things would have been possible had I not trusted life, and Detroit was no exception. Embracing all the possibilities of this trip, and that fate would take me on some interesting adventures, I surrendered to the universe, because most of the fun happens when you're least expecting it.

Well, this was the creme de la creme of adventures...

in a nutshell:

1) got to steph's after a grueling 8 hour buss ride (can somebody please toss me a grenade to swallow?)
2) slept well and got ready to roll early the following am
3) barreled through Windsor Ontario ( I'll take a side of broken glass with that grenade please...) and had an awkward time explaining to the border guard what we were there for
4) set up shop in some oddly angular hotel with a slanted elevator and hallucinogenic rainbow puke carpets.


Now comes the fun part...

The same day I got the news that my photos had been accepted into the show, curiosity led me to check out the list of visiting artists (the outa my league competition). Some names which looked familiar were photographers from last year's SEAF, and then completely at random, I clicked on the name James Graham , went to his site, was floored by his shit, and decided to email him on the odd chance that he'd be in Detroit for the show.

Well, he would be

Flash forward to Friday night. Arriving fashionably late to the fest, Steph and I began to scout the territory when I was stopped by a handsome gentlemen with great hair and piercing blue eyes waving an inquisitive index finger in my direction.

"I know you! Kathy, right?

(In a thick southern twang: "dear sir, you must be mistaken" , replied Scarlet O'hara ..)

But I wasn't as eloquent...

"Excuse me?"

Turns out it was James Graham - the man himself. Still frazzled from the flight, he was meeting up with some friends, and on his way to check out his latest works being featured on the noteworthy Tashchen wall of fame.

These two ladies from Canada were impressed.

Then we met Chip Willis

and were impressed again.

I can honestly speak on behalf of Steph when I say that we never thought our excursion to this art show would amount to anything more than looking at pretty pictures of naked people doing nasty things, and watching people looking at my work. But there we were - hanging out with two great guys/amazing photographers, in a warehouse full of erotica somewhere in Downtown Detroit.

Truth is indeed stranger than fiction.

the pole jiggleos.

shit...

It was one of those rare instances (rare as of lately - too many things to start/finish/sort/find) when I was able to sit down and just write. Write like I used to. Back in the "sex and la cité" days. Way back when I began this silly blog.

I was on a roll

and then i had to venture out of my creative bubble to find it

and now that I can't find it, it's driving me nuts!

***

I was listening to some really old 80's new wave (that sounds so funny to actually say) when one song in particular yanked my old bones back 23 years.

Fire Woman by the Cult

and there I was with V, swinging like amazon babes from the pole - a good two feet above the heads of the other dancers, shaking our thangs, letting the hair down, showing lotsa leg...

The hottest club at the time had a pole in the center of the dance floor. But not an ordinary pole - one of those trapeze perch - type poles.

and we danced on it
Often.
And created many a sexy spectacle
and loved every minute of it

Fire woman was one of those most memorable songs.
The perfect "pole" song

All of our friends would refer to the strange apparatus as: 'the pole'

are you going to dance on 'the pole'?
did you see who was on the pole?
That dirty bitched knocked me off the pole and is gonna get her head kicked in by my Texas boot...

a thing of great mystery and wondrous power that pole was

So great in fact, that I composed an ode to the pole called, you guessed it - the pole jiggleos.

and now I can't find that paper anywhere in the house!

So here I am, stuck between a half churned story and a cold pot of almond tea. Will my evening will be spent on the hunt for this elusive piece of poetry - just because the story just wont be the same without it!?

wish me luck


and Sanj - there is a place in Marché Centrale that serves breakfast/brunch (right near the cineplex/roasters) and on the menu is "Creme Bruleé a la Grand Marnier" !!!!!
I've been too stuffed with cretons and les feves to try it, but when I do (or you beat me to the punch) you'll hear about it via email...

;-)

A reply to how artistis feel about posting images of themselves...

A reply from an artist as to how artists feel about posting images of themselves

It *does* make sense. It's one thing to show work that, though it may *feel* personal, can't feel that way to the audience (I did that last year). It's entirely another to show work that, whether it *feels* personal at not, can't help but feel that way to the audience -- and for that to be an audience who also see *you*.

We're the lucky ones, though: we already know that people like and respond to and respect our work, and that they respect us as a consequence. I think it's a pretty safe assumption that the same will be true of the people in our "real" lives, the ones who know us before/elsewhere -- even if they'll do a real double take at first.

What my question was to her...

Speaking of which - I'm taking a bold step by putting up three of my blue series images here at the university. There was this call for art entries - "social diversity and equity department" - the diversity of the university. Well, they liked what they saw and told me that my stuff was interesting enough to put in.

this is my blurb to attach to the images:

What you see here is real...

These are self-portraits taken in my bathroom - exploring the depths and darkness of despair, anxiety, fear and mania.

As an artist, it's become my mission to share my experiences as someone who lives with manic depression. For many years, it has been my demon, my poison, my worst nightmare come true, but over time, I have managed to find an outlet, a translation from that foreign language into visual poetry which is meant to both heal and inspire...

this art fest is about diversity : "By seeking ways to uncover the complexity of our unique community, we can gain a deeper appreciation of our many personal differences..."

I'm feeling a little vulnerable about posting these - in the hallway between two libraries. Lots of traffic - profs and students by the hundreds on a daily basis. Perhaps it's because it's on my home turf. Perhaps it's because I know that it will be seen as something 'out of the ordinary' - depression in all its faces.

I don't know.

When it was on flickr - I was a name to many, but to a select few, an actual person behind the name. There is a safety zone between the viewer and myself - but here, there isn't really.

I guess it's about putting it all out there. We have all felt that and I guess, will continue to do so as long as we decide to show our art, show who we are through our art.

does that make sense?

Late Saturday night at the Leeland...

Late Saturday night at the Leeland...
Originally uploaded by hellophotokitty.

(Too lazy to write a new blurb, so this was taken from Flickr...)

Through a series of really strange series coincidences, I randomly followed a link from the Dirty Detroit Arts festival, picked a photographer who’s name sounded catchy - James Graham (an invited artist), met him Friday, and was then introduced to Chip Willis (another photog – both he and James have their pieces in the new upcoming Taschen Erotic art book) and the rest is history! I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun running around a hotel with three other photographers and a nude model at 4 in the morning!

This is just a teaser for the series which I think is some of my best “photojournalistic work” in a long time…

AND ONE MORE THING!!!

delightful!!!

my photos are getting a lot of milage latley!

Just got the confirmation that this dueling duo is going over to another Dertoit show called Cpop and their Artists Showcase!

Alrighta

And I thought I was going to be able to take these babies to New York for Madame X!

Crazy ass shit.

Did I not say that I knew this was going to be a rock and roll year?
Must read back posts to see if I won my own bet...

Dirty Detroit - the story begins...

I'm experiencing the ripple effect from this Dirty Detroit show - I linked on one person, met him and met another person, and so on, and so on...

And I'm loving this strange thing called kismet, synchronicity, life in motion.

Time to begin to document these strange goings on again...

And I'll do so, piece by piece. My inspiration stems from a few other photographers who manage to keep a successful day job and write on the side for pleasure (or is it just the allure of the purgative qualities of rambling to oneself?).

I used to be vigilant about my daily entries - time to start again.

It's been hell writing everything in those teeny-tiny Moleskine books.

Hip, bohemian - yes. Practical for the motor mouth/run on sentence kinda gal like me? Not really.

But watching me try to scribble my whole crazy Detroit Erotic Rock City escapades into one volume?

priceless.

So I'll post the images and top up with the comments later.

#1. "this is neither 'not an exit" or "not an exit" - discuss.

pretty funny me

Sometimes I find myself chuckling at my own sense of humour.
I think I'm pretty funny.

Well, I did write that Sex and La Cité play - it was quite brilliant.
Carrie's Manolo Blahnik - she calls them Manolo Blankies :

I can't go anywhere without my security blankies...

And oh how I laughed when I wrote that - and oh how I wished my eyes weren't so heavy and eyes burning so red from lack of sleep.

but it turned out well. Except for the sequel - the cheap "knockoff"
At least I'm a legend in my own living room

My yahoo emails end with this quote:

"To attract men I wear a perfume called 'new car interior.'"
--comedian Rita Rudner

And oh how I laughed when I read that - it was one of those funnies that stick in your head for hours, every once and a while, returning for a chuckle jolt. I'm convinced that homeless people who roam the streets laughing to themselves are the ones on the inside track of an obscure joke.

Pause...

I wonder if there is a perfume called 'New car interior", and if "mamma bravo's meatball spaghetti sauce" is available in eau du toilette (see Sex and la cité - act 6: Gino's basement apartment of his parents duplex in Chomedy, Laval)

other memorable little one liners I've culled from the email archives:


" Did I freak you out? I have a tendency to do that. Perhaps it's my way of testing people's 'durability' or "kathy-bility" "

"I really enjoy the good moods and feeling of creativity, but hate the feeling that I'm a car wreck waiting to happen. I'm trying to find the balance in between a balance that is precariously perched on the top of a capsule marked "eli lilly"..."

"It seems that when I open my mouth during these trying times, not only do i put my whole foot in it, I put the whole shoe store and all their franchises!"

"Please know I'm not trying to be a crotchety old horny coot - but those shots are truly inspirational..."

(said with a Bronx Italian accent)
Me, I, think I'm pretty funny me...

Dirty, run down, crazy ass Detroit...

I am still trying to recoup the energy that was expended from the weekend.
And let me tell you - it ranks up there in intensity and freakyness with that first week in NYC.

what a memorable time it was...

I have so much to post - tried keeping a little journal filled with notes and antidotes which were scrawled down at 4am, after a night of photography and shuttling back and forth on the people mover.

Ahh - the people mover - that's a whole other story - along with more surreal and amusing stories I have to share.

Lu and I knew it was going to be an interesting ride when we saw the reaction of the custom's agent who became intrigued and puzzled as we tried to explain how my photos were in an art show called "Dirty Detroit".

It's an erotic art festival.
Neurotic arts festival?*
No - erotic.
So what kind of erotic photos do you take?



How do you explain this to a very large black man wearing an official blue uniform, who's holding your passport while sitting in a huge (and I mean gargantuan) indigo/black station wagon with tinted windows, next to the dead ringer for Patty Smith (except lu didn't smell...)

* neurotic? I guess in a way it was...

moving people.

.moving people.
Originally uploaded by ŧĒđĠūŸ®.

This is such a beautiful view from the People Mover.
Stephanie and I spent about 1/2 hour riding around on it through Detroit - that equals about 4 times around the city in total...

charlies angels

gang
Originally uploaded by hellophotokitty.

Three women, two wigs in one hotel room.
The result was magic.

I made two very special friends that weekend, and my life was changed forever - and became blessed.

(more to come when I get back home)

getting ready

I really should be getting ready to head out on my road trip. But needless to say, and so true to my nature, I'm leaving everything till almost last minute. I've been feeling reeeallly crappy and trying to keep my head from exploding as he passing rumble of anxiety shake my brain soup.

I had to laugh - A told me that her pharmacist was giving her 'tude cause she needed a refill her meds.
"I thought I had an extra refill, and told her that I would get in touch with my doctor tomorrow, but she was being a real twat about it and said that she couldn't give it to me and had to wait for the doctor to call the pharmacy to renew the prescription. Now I'm bouncing off the walls and sliding down again cause I need those pills. Not a pretty sight."

this dude is so disorganized, he didn't even realize that he started me on 15mg, and then switched me to 10mg. No fucken wonder I was wired so tightly last week.

Ping! Poing!

Too much camera equipment and too many fancy shoes.
It all looks good and seem like things I'm gonna need.
I told Lu my sizes, just in case we are both a size 8 and need to swap clothes/shoes when we're down there. Not so lucky camera wise.
Nikon and Canon don't mix well...

oh, and as the medication turns...

Latest issue...

My withdrawl from Welbutrin is another test of my endurance for pain. I halved the dosage as suggested by my phd, to which the side effects (according to him) would be minimal, and have been in such incredible pain, I am actually thinking of going into the hospital to ask for some monster pain killers.

I mean pain - take a step, and feel every join in your body explode with pain, every muscle tearing with tension. Raw deep ugly pain. The whole weekend was spent lying in bed, crying. When I wasn't crying, I was sleeping off what seemed to be the worst flu I've had in decades.

then i went on the net

God bless the internet.

(and what troubled me, is the absence of his blue book - the bible of medications which all doctors have in their office - a piece of furniture, except his. That should have sent the warning sirens off.)

and there it was - in bold: severe flu like symptoms, body and muscle aches, fatigue, restlessness, nausea, diarrhea.

And there were all the symptoms that plagued me - phantom no more.

So I called him yesterday, explaining what was going on, almost pleading with him to go back to the dose I was before.

well, I don't think it's wise to put you back on a medication that made you manic
yes, I agree, but if you remember correctly, I told you that I was also pmsing - which makes any moment in my life a manic moment. That week is hell for me regardless!
regardless, that's not something I want to do.
well, I am leaving Montreal for a week, will be in Detroit and meeting people on buisness, I can't afford to be in pain 24 hours a day, and feel wiped out or like the walking dead. I knew that these withdrawl symptoms would be bad.
How about you wait a few days and call me back
I don't have a few days to play around with my system
I don't want to put you on something that made you manic
I KNOW MY BODY. I CAN BREATHE THROUGH A MANIC MOMENT. YOU WERE MY CBT DOCTOR - YOU GAVE ME THE TOOLS TO BE ABLE TO WORK OUT THOSE THINGS. I WOULD RATHER BE MANIC FOR A MOMENT THAN BE IN SO MUCH PAIN THAT EVERY STEP I TAKE MAKES ME WINCE AND TEAR UP.
...

well, why don't you call me on Wednesday and we'll see...

I almost broke the phone in half, but promptly called my previous doctor who actually had 20 years experience over this newly graduated doc ( I had my sources check this out) and beleived in listening to me and finding alternatives that were in my best interest.

So as I sit here typing this, my fingers are cramping and back is aching so much that I will have to lie down once again until the sharp stabbing pain that pulses through my muscles and joints pass.

fucken dolt.

playwrights, dreamers, poets, and spiritual pioneers...

Not that I take this stuff seriously, not that I think that these things will come true; but I do get a kick out of the timing of these things - especially since I will be leaving for T.O on Thursday, then Detroit on Friday till Sunday, meeting with a whole new batch of flickr people at a huge art event which will bring together all kinds of crazy, off the wall, deviants and mystics under one roof...

Power of the Unseen Mars in your career zone is trying to create tangible and measurable results, but you may also find yourself pitted against forces that seem to be beyond your present control. Mercury, Venus, and Uranus all are in your twelfth and spiritual zone, which is going to bring events out of the blue.

You may find your dreams to be very vivid and that inspiration and revelation become your constant companions. It is also possible that you could be working out some karma in one way or another, and you will sense when this is happening. There is a lot of mystical energy that is working through you and encouraging you to think about who you are and where you are going.

Jupiter in Sagittarius is encouraging you to venture forth and learn more about yourself by traveling in consciousness as well as going on long journeys.

Expect to meet people who may have a very non-materialistic agenda, especially on Thursday when the Sun conjuncts Neptune in your social zone. You could hook up with artists, playwrights, dreamers, poets, and spiritual pioneers. Although you may not succeed in getting a lot of practical work done you will harvest some fabulous ideas.

uncontrollably hallelujah

Now some of this spam shit is just getting stupid, and why all of those references to the bible? Hello?!

I've been keeping the good ones and delting the bad - but some of these just stuck.

I don't know why Jane Powell's Daily meditations always go to spam - some of them are a bit bla bla bla, but I kept this one because it just fit.

And after I read it, I had an "uncontrollably hallelujah" moment.



I don't approve of any of my actions or any of the words that came out of my mouth

indoor minivan

Jane Powell
Your Daily Meditation - Why You're So Unique

uncontrollably hallelujah

LU

LU
Originally uploaded by pooyan.

I'm gonna meet her when I go to Toronto and we're gonna take a road trip to Detroit together.

This is gonna rock and roll...

Rest Not

Rest Not (square this time)
Originally uploaded by ♥Rebecca♥.

I met ♥Rebecca♥ years ago - we were fellow bloggers back in the day, and apparenlty it was I who turned her onto flickr.com.

This was the first image to be displayed when I opened my flickr page.

And oh what a fitting image and quote.

Thank you so very much ♥Rebecca♥.

I hope that one day you will have an idea as to just how important seeing this image right now has done for me...

thank you

Get well and don't go on any manic spending sprees...

This is just too much.

Speaking of bi-polar...

How would you preface sending this card?

Hope they take those restraints off you in time for Valentines's Day!

or

Get well and don't go on any manic spending sprees!!

I'm just calling it moi

I think I'm just gonna call this blog

moi

short
sweet
can be said in one word
in one grunt or moan

and hell, it's all about me anyway.

and as if Nora Ephron will ever read this...

more meds please!

We can increase your lamictal and keep you on the welbutrin and prozac

he says as he begins to fill out another prescription with a swanky cushy ergonomic pen with the name WELBUTRIN plastered across it...

I don't want to increase anything, I just want to decrease - no more adding meds. I think my body is fucked up enough, don't need to add to the mix.

Scrap me off the ceiling with a spatula and scramble me up for dinner - i'm all over the map, but I must say, some of my most interesting work has come from this time.


It's not hard to see why great artists lose their minds.

I look into that abyss with my camera each time I take it out for a spin...

on the cusp of a manic monday

Hmm
Why do I write?

Why do I write in this blog?
continue to do so even though not many (if any) read it?

I don't know.
And now that I'm beginning to peak again on these stupid meds, I find that this is the only therapy I have to let my fingers do the walking, and keep me out of trouble.

Was all over the map today.
Serious shit.

I knew that the PMS monster was around the corner, but now she has teeth.

I had to take a trazadone to calm me down. It worked alright. Almost put me to sleep. And not the good kind either - a 'feel hazy sick with a flu' sleepiness that weighs heavy on a body and mind that is ready to rumba.

Then I began to cry.

I have no clue - it just came pouring out while I was sending a 'thanks for contacting me" email to a friend of mine.

Then I had dinner.

Then I got even more anxious

then I watched America's funnies videos - had a laugh which I really needed, then went back to this stinking piece of machinery which lures me in until all hours of the night.

Addiction addiction
attention deficit disorder
shapes, colors, sounds

one big gigantic cerebral mishmash - very fattening indeed.

I am most upset by those two wenches who are relentless in their steadfastness that they are the sole creators of "sex and la cité". ShowBusiness breeds contempt and, in their case, stupidity and egomania.

It's sad because I really thought that we had a comedic chemistry which would bring us to great theatrical and sit-com heights.

Now I have to start all over again.
...

But at least I know that I'm the one with the writing prowess.
You can't base a successful movie or theater piece on one liners alone.

well, yes you can, but I refuse to pander or entertain people who have an I.Q less than a paper bag.


shitty shit shit.

And I don't care if you read this.
Good on you.
Maybe you will pick up some tips on how actually write something!

and another thing...

She

She
Originally uploaded by tabu.

I can relate so well to this image, especially now.
During this time in my life...

I think back to when I was in Cuba, and in the January warm tropical mist from the ocean, I danced under the light of the full moon, reaching into my tribal self, expressing my longings to be one with the chaos of nature.

She stands strong, wind blowing her clothes away from her body, her hair disobeying their natural direction, but she stands stoic, amidst the chaos of nature.

It is a part of her, it surrounds her, but she does not move.


thank you Tabu.

Not only are you a gifted photographer, you are a soul who's visions can move me to tears.

Free fall into falling

Free fall into falling
Originally uploaded by hellophotokitty.

My horoscope for today...

"You may be afraid of the uncertainty you are feeling, yet this is a chance for you to push past your comfortable emotional limits. You might be able to get the support of your friends and associates, but you should be advised that everything is not as it seems. Trust your own judgment over the words of others, unless, that is, they are singing you love songs."

Interesting thing about the taking chances to push past uncomfortable feelings.

I think these photos in this series is a good thing...

Animal Farm - the movie

This is how I imagined the "Animal Farm" by George Orwell would look like if it were a movie.

Freaked the living daylights out of me.

Then again, I should have not been reading that stuff at ten years old...

PRIZED
Originally uploaded by juliann L.

Her light - revisited

Her light - revisited
Originally uploaded by hellophotokitty.

If you asked me last year where I thought I would be next year, I would have shaken my head and said : "I hope someplace better than now..."

And here we are - 2007 and I'm leaving to Detroit to visit some flickr friends, and be a part of an art festival that has accepted two of my pieces.

Fingers and toes crossed that this is the starting of something big and wonderful!

Renaming her...

I want to rename my blog

I've been reading Nora Ephron's latest book: I Feel Bad About My Neck and other thoughts on being a woman..." and it's changing the way I feel about writing this - my autobiographical life in cyberspace...

So I will be calling it "a blog for Nora".
Besides, I think that she might be flattered if this blog ever does become 'famous' and hopefully not sue me, as the institution of Seinfeld might, if in fact, what was my old blog became famous...

I have been blessed in this life because all the memories of women - past and present

I have been lucky because the women in my life were strong intelligent and wonderful. Perhaps it's the Slovak gene which prepared my ancestors for hard work in the fields, many children and the pioneering spirit which led a generation to North America, or a mixture of their steadfast ability to endure the elements, cultural and language barriers they encountered when they settled here

While reading Nora's book, I realized that her words could as easily become mine in 15 years. The quest for youth, and then the comfortable acceptance that age is a good thing:makes you wiser, bolder, and in a different way, more attractive. A self acceptance which, at the age of 20, seems oddly bewildering and elusive.

I hope to meet Nora one day - perhaps over a latte at Starbucks, exchanging stories about the 'tumultuous twenties', the 'dirty thirties" and what lies ahead for us as women who look toward the future with grace and self-assurance, and the satisfaction that - baby - we've come a long way and we've done it with an iron fist in a velvet glove...

This book is quickly becoming an inspiration, a tool of stimulation for my writer's block. The poet in me is optimistic that I will be able to find the right words, the right beat to string together sentences that flow as effortlessly as hers do. The realist in me says: if she can do it, hell - so can you.

She too was once a woman in her thirties, on the cusp of her forties...

So here I sit, on my day off, fending off a nasty cold, post nasal drip, Cubano tropicalissimo musico filling my empty front room (soon to be photo studio) and look to the future with hope and a big dollop of confidence.

The corners of my mouth lift up ever so slightly as I think about my upcoming exposition in April...

In New York City -
In Chelsea -
In a bar/lounge called Madame X

and then hear Frank Sinatra croon:

"if you can make it there, you can make it anywhere..."

Thanks Nora

and did I mention?

did I mention that the silly sequel to my play that I penned is going on at the centaur this week?

I sent a cease and desist order to the women, and the theater company, but they went on with it regardless.

Feeling quite stupid and powerless to do anything about it except scream and weep.

I've used this anaology before, but my baby has been stolen by a band of raving peri-menopausal women who've turned her into a crack whore....

Is there such a thing as Karma?

Who said that there was...

urgh

a letter to a friend unedited and unplugged

A letter to a friend - unedited and unplugged...

Gawd.
I'm sorry to have sent you such a desperate email lastnight.

Actually - I was ready to call you - I was up, restless and could not sleep. Those fucken highs... And to top it all off, the meds that bring me downfrom the highs -trazadone, gives me these disturbing dreams. I can't complain - my dream was with that "dr.goodlooking' or whatshisname on Grey's anatomy? Well, he was thinking of marrying me - we spent a wonderful whirwind day together after trying to take shelter in a weird warehouse/office/photostudio from some approaching tornadoes. The sky was beautiful - indigo and mauve clouds across a blue blue mountianous horizon - there were tiny funnels everwhere, and every time I thought one was coming, it turned out to miss us by a hair, a few feet, tops.

There was a pregnant woman there too - and we hid behind furniuture - weird,..

So this doctor dude and I...

I was taking a shower, and he tried to get sexy with me, but told him"I have to wait till we are more serious" and he was all sweet saying that was not was he was after, and that he just really liked me..

I remember looking out his bathroom window and seeing a beautiful sea of crystal clear turquise waters - calm and warm, and thought to myself - "this is perfection..."

What do you make of this dream my dear?

Sometimes I think I'm on the way to getting my life in order and making all my dreams come true, and sometimes, it feels as if the nighmare is just begining...

When I was 35 I hoped that 36 would be better... Now, I'm on the cusp of 39, and I'm running out of numbers to hang hopes on.

I hate being a slave to my biology - and that's what happens fron time to time.
My bipolar is my mental cancer - you can treat it, stop it frrom spreading, even remove it - but the traces of toxic resude are always there - waiting, sleeping - and you're never sure when they are going to come back to haunt again.

sorry for the rant my dear. I know you understand me on so many levels, but don'tworry, I'm not looking for fixing, just listening.

brain shivers

brain shivers
Originally uploaded by inez fili.

I don't think anybody has come closer than this in their description of one side effect Effexor is known for - brain shivers.

Imagine your brain is two sizes smaller than your skull.
Imagine your skull is filled with water.

Now jump around for 5 minutes, then stop. Then spin yourself around until you get very dizzy.

then stop.

These are brain shivers

Thank you so very much inez fili

both this image and you are brilliant

she couldn't lift her head from all the holiday excitement.

she couldn't lift her head from all the holiday excitement.
Originally uploaded by lynnie the pooh!.

Yea, that was totall me when I got back from New York city Sunday night!!!

giant shrimp of my dream

giant shrimp
Originally uploaded by erin_designr.

Go figure, the first dream I have in 2007 has to be about something I'm allergic to.

I was at the doc to this fishmarket (I guess it was some residue from my seattle visit) and there were these giant shrimps being pulled out of the water, onto the doc by these fishermen. A woman I was with told me: "Oh, these are the giant shrimp. They're actually quite delicious", and then proceeded to watch some husky romanian boxer type stick his hand in the middle of this 'thing' and gut it out.

I was horrified, but then again, the idea of eating something that was once my size freaked me out even more.


Could it have been the cheap booze?

Well, happy new year!

Out with the Old

Out with the Old
Originally uploaded by Unbridled Expression (tm).

Yippie!!

Oh such words to live by!

2006 was such a crappy year for so many of us - going down as "one of the worst years on record", but the good news is that I'm up and slowly begining to run again, and for the first days of 2007, I intend to have my football helmet on - ready to take the next 365 days head on!!

All the best!
ox

stroll down memory lane via bell telephone

That was fun - lots of fun.
Just spent the last 4 hours on the phone with a dear old friend of mine from high school.

And we laughed and laughed

and talked about all kinds of crazy things, tried to assemble the pieces of adolescent pubescent angst from the wisdom that we had gathered through age and wisdom

it was like a summer had gone by - each went to our own summer vacation, and were back again catching up.

I think that is the mark of a true friendship - you never miss a beat and start up again where you left off.

thnx T

You made me happy to remember those times - and we had many many good ones.

I could have made a lot of money on this bet...

I'm killing myself over this thing.

If I had bet my best girlfriend money over the fact that I knew her man would propose to her this time last year, I would have been a very rich woman right now.


Remember that dream I had - about the hijab?

Well, he proposed to her tonight.

i guess I will have to wear a hijab when we marry

the notorious batchelor dropped to his knees tonight and I freaked out


those were her words


I flipped!!

And I called it - this month last year! I have to find it cause I think I actually documented it in my blog.

It always happens this way - i can run around predicting other people's lives and how shit is going to pan out, but when it comes to me and my life? I'm as lost as a toddler in Disney World.


has anybody seen my future???!!!


Lucky bitch
but I love her still

when taken for a long time or in large doses, but it may cause politics

good advice from spammers:
when taken for a long time or in large doses, but it may cause politics


be hungry.
NO SNOW ACCUMULATION EXPECTED.
Is eight
Is redundant
A murder
The my harbour
Turn again from before the cities great company And he they
algum trees more abundantly bless saying gather every right; hand).
exorcism
made them and they were an house in any further though he
when taken for a long time or in large doses, but it may cause politics
you I have fetched a matter a son of the
heart, because they deny that is the fishes.
For so maw
in portend as extol
CONDITIONS WILL REMAIN POOR THROUGH THE EVENING.
Are to cardiology
long-lived
And their mother's judgments: are like grass as
plural profoundly
It's a Wiggly Party," several children make emu skirts while one of the Wiggles ...
Look nice

your man as a muslim cleric...

this was one for the record dream books.

a letter to a friend before i run off for some xmas tryptophan and eggnog...

A,
I just had the most fucken bizarre dream.
This is one of those I had to write down...

We were out somewhere - summer night, you, me Hali and some other girl, walking up some streets near your place. There was this girl on the side of the street, lying in those little patches of grass in front of a house. She was moaning and was pregnant. There was a car nearby (our car?) and we rushed over. Turns out she was in labour and was having the baby.

You called to me and Hali to get the 'supplies" out of the car. We dashed over with gigantic pads the size of a body builder's arms and some blankets. You stood there , hunched over her with a baby hanging upside down by it's legs - "already done! That was easy!" took it, wrapped it in a depends and off we went to the hospital. I gave the woman a depends, she gushed blood, felt faint but we managed to put her in the car..

flash forward to some sort of funky loft/lounge where everything looked like a dark and brooding ikea. Kelly green walls and white mouldings with minimal recessed ceiling lights. Everybody was young - 18-22. We walked in like we owned the place and spoke of things 80's. I gave some advice - "if you like coldplay, you gotta listen to Heaven 17. Japan with David sylvian was also cool". These people (and some really hot young boys) hung on our every word. They vigilantly took notes and hummed and hawed in deep interest. Some music was put on and we showed them how to dance. We were the belles of the ball.

We left in some sort of convertible (in and through the house) and everybody waved and talked among themselves about how cool we were.

Flash forward to your place - 2nd floor.

The stairs were straight and came directly down from the top to the bottom floor. It was dark and lots of deep blue in the rooms. One room was the baby's room - filled to the rafters with pampers, baby wipes, and other baby toiletries. You were somewhere talking to p as I examined the 75 different types of diaper absorbency (low flow, wings, no wings, nighttime, afternoon...) You came back upstairs - really upset - said p didn't understand your 'mission' (apparently birthing babies from women who didn't get to make it to the hospital) and wanted you to be more 'traditional' - not show your legs and wear the hijab. !! You shared your displeasure with me as you packed your 'nanny to go' ditty bag. You went downstairs again and heard the two of you talking in farsi - you saying little - "ehkhla", "fkhalla" angrily and forcefully as he lahlahlahed on and on. You stormed out of the house with your bag and left me alone. The house fell silent.

I ended up on the outside - and despite the fact that there was ice on the lines and telephone poles, it was really warm. I had to come back in - but this time, had to swing from the telephone pole, and slide 007 style across the clothesline, break the ice and climb up a gym rope to get back into your upstairs. I was upset that you had left without me - and I sat in a sea of uber thick baby wipes and sulked - feeling left out and unimportant.

how fucked is that!?
And from what I could see of p, he was wearing those silly Aldan shoes, a long flowing robe and looked like someone from the Hobbit, but had an overgrown goatee and mammoth sideburns..

weird.

Are you planning to get a hijab girlfriend?
off to my mom's - call you later bella - oxoxox

word count...

I'm doing a quick scan over the amount I've put down here on blogger over the past two years.

Fuck.

That is a lot of writing!!!

I'm afraid to even begin to count!!


Any bets as to how many pages this would come out to ?

xmas schmexmas

I'm still up after going against my better judgment and having that extra cup of java at 9pm.

and now I'm up and wide awake

I'm feeling a little bleh, perhaps it's lack of sleep, lack of mental stimulation today (had to go to church and was subjected to a priest who just loves to hear himself talk - this time about bread... don't ask) and too much incense. There was so much of that shit in the air, I was surprised that no smoke alarm went off.

There was a serious amount of smoke.
and it stank like you would not believe!

I am running out of coherent adjectives to describe the stench, but it was enough to make me dry heave at the back of the church. I had to go outside to clear my lungs. It was seriously gross.

so now I clackety clack by myself in my front room, making not very much sense, wishing I could call up somebody and just start to spew random rantings.

Feeling pretty crappy.
Not too sure about my photography shit either.
is it good? Is it publishing worthy?

I mean, obviously it is because it has been - right?

ahh.
Late night rantings.


*******
For my new year's resolutions, I promised myself that I would
a) join a gym
b) join a dance class (there is a cool tango place - and upstairs is a hip-hop school)
c) have my writings published in least two magazines
d) have at least 1 solo show in Montreal
e) work on my documentary - start the damm thing by myself and not wait for anybody to help me (or give me the startup funds I need to get it off the ground - can you say - max out all your credit cards ?)
f) some other things I wrote on my palmpilot but have now forgotten
(oh yea, get all my shit together and start that book I have been talking about)

and maybe g) - start another play to leave SALC behind, and make this one my own baby - no co-writers involved (and if I do decide to have one come on board - sign a contract to make things clear)


I have a lot on my plate, but I'm hoping that I'll find the strength somewhere to muster it up when I need it.

A vacation to cuba would be nice...

the accident of my being a photographer...

And if a day goes by without my doing something related to photography, it's as though I've neglected something essential to my existence, as though I had forgotten to wake up. I know that the accident of my being a photographer has made my life possible.


Richard Avedon, 1970



yes.
Accident indeed.


Thank you Mr. Avedon.
you've manged to lift the veil of confusion from the purpose of my life.

blast from the past and other reasons for holiday cheer...

I'm off today

And I'll be off until the 3rd of January!!
YEA!

no more work - thank GOD!
I was reaching my saturation point - the moment I'd step foot into the elevator and begin my ascent into office chaos, stomach acid would begin to bubble up my throat.

It's all quiet on the gastrointestinal front this morning.

I've been given some herbal remedy from my accupuncture dude - it's odd - looks and smells like Shake n' Bake. I'm going to give it a shot - and must give it a chance. Despite my inital doubt as to the validity of chinese medicine, I must say that it's worked wonders so far. Without it, I can honestly say that I don't beleive I would be here typing now, but rather somewhere in a hospital wearing my holiday themed straight jacket.

He also told me that it's going to taste bitter.

if it works...


Good news - mom's scan came back negative for any new cancers.

We are all releived!
And grandma is coming home for xmas!

this all sounds like it has the makings of a Hallmark Xmas tv special

and it's all good.



we're getting her a digital camera (mom) - she must have more than 50 rolls of undeveloped film lying around the house - this way it's just a 'point and click' to instant photos. I think she'll get a kick out of it.


I had the best pre-xmas surprise the other day!
One of my long lost high school partners in crime found me and sent me a wonderful email - bringing back wonderful memories of the good times we shared in those 'wonder years' of our teenage youth. He is doing very well in the mid-put not so mid west and is quite the socialite; but he has not changed. Still the crazy brilliant dude that was such a big part of my life back then. It's been a joy emailing him and can't wait to yak on the phone the way we used to.

Some friendships really stand the test of time - the best ones are those who have no age. You can pick up where you left off without missing a beat. I know that is what I've been needing for a while. Good old friendship soup for the soul.

I'm hoping that 2007 will be the start of something big and better than the shit that has been shoveled in my direction this year.

so far (knock on wood) so good.

I'm going to commemorate the ending of one play and begining of another by starting a new work on the same day I began Sex and La Cité. It's going to be my closure and opening of a new chapter/act/scene/ in my so called life as a seinfeld episode called life...


All the best during this holiday season!!

xo

countdown

So mom is having her scan as I type this.
We are both nervous as hell


Aside from the last time (the firs time when she had the scan to see if the cancer had spread to her lymph nodes) we waited on pins and needles for days. What a releif it was to know that it had'nt spread.

This time, the doctor has specifically sent her to see what's going on with her liver.

what if the cancer has spread to the liver?

I don't even want to think about that.

God.
I am praying so hard right now for a happy and cancer free xmas...

Waiting

Monday, mom is going for her PET scan.
She's had a fever for more than two weeks. Last week it began to show up during the day.

The doctor told her to come in Wedensday
that's when they will get the results of the scan

My mom is worried that the cancer has spread to her liver.

I am freaking out.

I know that there is nothing we can do about it at this point, except worry, and to worry doesn't accomplish anything, but I still do.


Because she is my mom, because she means the world to me, because she has always been there, because it kills me to see her so sick and weak,

because this can kill her


The old folks home where my grandmother is staying has an outbreak of c-difficile

We were hoping to have her come home for xmas - that one day so we can all spend it together like the wonderful little family we are.

But it looks like she might be quarantined for God knows how long...

And my play - in a week, it will be two years ago that I began SALC. If I knew what I know know about what was going to happen, and how I would be stabbed in the back like this, yes - I would have thought twice about taking on this play...

do do sphere

More ramblin...


Anything that John offers will benefit you.
ignite forbore
day, pursueth evil in; his father; of the captains of you
this seems to be a huge resource covering lots of different areas.
were gathered them What I have I destroy not thyself in
Plus he'll have to deal with ball-hawking corner Charles Tillman.
studio fifty-fifty
housetop and I saw him, and, When they may kill the country of
This applies to their privatelives where they must account to themselves, and to
tinder
quash
Your Daily Meditation - Women with High Self Esteem Do This
A the adapter
no proof
do do sphere
syndication
a dates
prejudge
and no wonder that even the great Bill Gates lost his self confidence.
Your Daily Meditation - Arguments with Friends
Since I never use this utility, I can't be of much help
Have emission
Be is string

c is for crazy, c is for chernobyl

I had a full blown - albeit short and swift meltdown last night - and it brought back too many memories of when my core reactor would slowly heat up, alarms sound, people around would panic, terrified and then, once past the point of no-recovery cooling, I'd morph into raidoactive toxic rage.

Imagine taking a spoonfull of scalding hot soup.
Close your mouth around the spoon and wait.
Wait until the pain begins to travel through the first layer of skin.
Wait for the electric shock of copper wire to scrape the roof of your mouth -

but don't open your mouth...

now, open your mouth.

Everything that you've kept in, plus the extra saliva that was created by desperate glands to quell the flames, peices of vegatables, noodles - all come rushing out - projectile style.

that was me last night.

too much in my little old lady change purse - the geanology of paranoia expanded too fast for me, and was not able to accuratley map it through logic or reason.

All of it - my mom's fever (chemo+fever < healthy immune system + c-dificile = dire complications)
My play and the little bit of glory I had being credited as "the writer" before that &%*# stole it, blindsided by rage arid and icy desperation seeping up through my toes to my spine -
it all hit the sparkplug waiting to be charged

and it did.


I felt the energy come - the superhuman strength, vibratations crawling from underneath my eyelids. Without any awareness other than my ability to just watch and fear, the house became spiderwebs through which I had to claw at to exit.

thank god I was too tired and in too much pain to even try...

a sequel to a saga spoofing the re-runs of a series...

This farce is never-ending.

(and in my defense, for anybody reading this blog who happens to just stumble upont his post without reading the back story, you might have to do some research. These women were KNOWN in the acting circles as cut throat witches, and somebody had told me after the fact: You were warned)

My life has gone from crazy bizarre seinfeld-esque coincidences, absurd happenings, was transformed into a "sex and la Cite" success, but has taken a turn "As the World Turns"...

I'm just so outraged by all of this stupidity - that my one glory moment is being hogged by two women who are so notoriety hungry - that they are willing to stab me in the back to get it.

I know - wake up - this is reality

No wonder the ice-caps are melting in the North Pole - nobody gives a flying fuck about what they do or who they do it to!!!

But I environmentally digress.

So the shit - all of it from the top guys... a sequel to a saga spoofing the re-runs of a series... a play by - you know who...


It all starts here...

ACT 1

The glorious gleanings of this story began when I sent out my cattle call group email to everybody because my photo was on the cover of a new magazine. I was elated, and wanted to share my joy with everybody (because so many of my friends except a few) have been my tireless cheerleaders and are rooting for me, every wonderful baby step I make in realizing my dreams.

Imagine if you could, the following: -

a brief email stating that my photo was on a magazine cover
- the attached scanned cover of the magazine
- thanks for support and positive vibes from all who cared.

Then imagine this:
Upon receiving many congratulatory emails on my oeuvre, I get this..

Wow, good for you girl. Awesome.
Not to rain, but I don't know if you heard that SALC will be playing at the Centaur in January. It would be nice to get together some time. Not that I have much, but maybe or an hour or two after a band practice which is near your place. I leave it up to you.

ciao bella, p

To translate:
Not to rain,(1) but I don't know if you heard(2) that SALC will be playing at the Centaur in January.(3)

1.Don't mean to take the wind out of your sails, don't mean to rain on your parade, hate to burst your bubble What do all of these phrases mean? YES, you do mean to burst my only bubble, take the wind out of my skimpy sails, and turn into a hurricane at my shiner’s parade!! DUH! Because if you didn't, you would not say anything!

2. I don't know if you heard...
I guess you might not have heard, but if you did, don't be mad at me because I didn't tell you first - or - just in case you hear it through the grapevine, I don't want you to be pissed off at me cause I waited till last minute to tell you, and am telling you now to save my ass...

3. If you look back two years ago, we were supposed to play at the Centaur. How a show that won two awards, cleaned up the city playing 5 different venues and selling out all 13 shows didn't make it to that year's wild side festival is still an X-file to me. And how it got in this year - the sequel (no comment) is as unexplained as how breathing into a paper bag can cure hiccups. (Looking for an obscure phenomena, but am at a loss for words...)

SO TO RECAP:
1) I didn't mean = I meant to be a bitch and rain on your parade
2)My sequel to the play you wrote is
3) getting the glory that the first one SHOULD have received BUT ISN'T.
4) ciao bella = see ya sucker!

ACT 2

My Reply:

December 1, 2006 11:16 AM
Yes P, we definitely need to talk. And in terms of the play at the centaur in January, you are not talking about the original SALC I gather, because I would assume you would have contacted me already for rehearsals. There are some details we must iron out.


Her reply:
No it is Salc part two (1) and yes we would have contacted you for rehearsals (2), we could have used for this one as well (3), but you weren't available because of your mother (4). How is she by the way?(5)

Translation:

1) its the sequel to the play - the one that we re-used most of your jokes from...
2) we could have, but consciously made a decision not to
3) ahh - the sick mother - a good excuse not to contact somebody
4) and oops, sorry for not contacting you sooner - before I rained on your parade, and by the way, to save face, I'll ask how your mother is so I won't seem like a real bitch...

Offstage
- the sound of screams and items of value and glass being smashed to smithereens.
My irate, yet perfectly honest and rightfully upset and insulted retort is as follows:

So P, what's up with this "co-writer" thing you've put on the centaur site about the original SALC? That’s news to me - since when did my 'written by" change to co-writer, and why was I not informed? I guess you're just adding more rain on my parade by posting another link via your PDF on the Wildside Festival site which says the same thing... Funny, cause the last time I checked here and here it still said "written by "...
Can you please explain that to me?

And as ready as I tried to be in braving the harlot gauntlet, I was not ready for this:

Her response.
K, as you may recall when we were doing the show, A and I approached you regarding the credits for writing(1). We believed then (2) and still do now, that it was a collaborative effort (3) Even if you did most of the main writing(4**) if you did most of the main writing. We gave you ideas, plots, scenes, helped you put the scenes in order, even wrote specific dialogue in scenes (5), and then I was the main editor (5), working with you and/or A to get the script from 70 pages down to 30,(6) which also involved some rewrites for dialogue and voiceovers.

However, at the time, because of your reactions when we approached you (7), we felt that for the good of the show(8), we would give you the full credit.(9)

Unfortunately, I don't think we will be able to see eye to eye on this (10) and I am sorry that this is upsetting you (11). But we feel we are giving credit where credit is due. (12)

P & A

translation:
1) even though you wrote it, you didn't really write it...

2) we knew from the beginning, and not telling you from the beginning

3) see later definition/duties of Director, and producer

4) A blatant admission to the fact that I did do most of the writing

5) it's your story - you give a writer ideas to write ! That's how working with a screenwriter/playwright works!!!

6) Slice and dice cold detached chop and toss - you didn't write it, so why should you care!?

7) reference to their asking for "co-editing credit" and my reaction - then see definitions of director and producer...

8) didn't want everybody to hate us because they knew that you were in the right and we were in the wrong (and oh, of course, our self-interest above all)

9) And we did it through clenched teeth - you whiny miserable playwright bitch.

10) face it woman, it's us against you

11) we don't really give a flying fuck if this is upsetting you, but we will do it anyway...

12) We want to have it all - be the director, producer and main actors
AND, oh yea, WRITERS AS WELL!!

INTERMISSION

ACT 3

I figured it's about time that these girls get a lesson in the real world of show business

P,
Have you ever read the real definitions of what a real director's duties are? The way you and your partner are acting, I would guess not... For your information, these are taken from the Internet Movie Databasehttp://imdb.com/Glossary/ and more information can be found here...
http://www.artsalive.ca/en/eth/playwright
http://www.artsalive.ca/en/eth/director/

Before pulling rank on me, I think you should inform yourself as to who does what. I guess in your world, protocol does not apply. And by the way - we had agreed that the final script we entered into the fringe was "written by " and then included "edited by me, you and her" on your request. Sorry my dear, I don't remember seeing you writing 18 hours a day, all day, every day for a month. And besides, if it weren't for my script, and my idea that the girls come to Montréal, you would not be where you are right now - there would have not been a smash success, or a sequel for that matter. And fact remains fact - you can't do much without a great script or the foundation of it. You should familiarize yourself with these definitions before you go around saying you wrote or 'co-wrote' the play. Don't you think there is a reason why "director" and "producer' are always the first in the credits? And why don't I see you taking your name into "costume design co designed by", ""co- choreographed by". Try running that one by la danseuse. I'm sure she'd be thrilled....

I don't see why not - If you did it for the writer, well hell, you should do it for everything else you had your hands in. According to your kind of logic, this should make sense...

Director: The principal creative artist on a movie set.
A director is usually (but not always) the driving artistic source behind the filming process, and communicates to actors the way that he/she would like a particular scene played. A director's duties might also include casting, script editing, shot selection, shot composition, and editing. Typically, a director has complete artistic control over all aspects of the movie, but it is not uncommon for the director to be bound by agreements with either a producer or a studio. In some large productions, a director will delegate less important scenes to a second unit.

Producer: The chief of staff of a movie production in all matters save the creative efforts of the director, who is head of the line. A producer is responsible for raising funding, hiring key personnel, and arranging for distributors. See also associate producer, co-producer, executive producer, line producer, Producer's Guild of America. Writer:A general term for someone who creates a written work, be it a novel, script, screenplay, or teleplay. See also Writers Guild of America.

Playwrights create scripts. Like other literary artists, playwrights tell stories through the words and actions of characters. While the work of the playwright can stand on its own as literature, its potential is fully realized only when the skills of all the other theatre artists combine to transform the script into a production of a play. While most playwrights, like most writers, work alone, sometimes they share the task of script creation with actors and directors in a process known as collective creation. Here everyone takes a hand in researching the story idea and developing the script. But because the skillful ordering and re-creation of events is central to the playwright’s art, the final task of shaping the raw material into a coherent and effective play/script will normally fall to the playwright.

So those are industry standards.

I'm sure I can find other real professionals in the business that would be more than happy to back up these facts, and my rightful credit on the script.

I figured that this pretty much states shit in black and white - but I forgot - reason and logic go out the window in their "me" centered universe...

K, thank you for the information, and this is taken from it" But because the skillful ordering (I was up with you till 5 in the morning doing this) and re-creation of events is central to the playwright’s art, the final task of shaping the raw material into a coherent and effective play/script will normally fall to the playwright."

I played a huge hand in the skillful ordering , and the final task of shaping the raw material was done by all 3 of us. Also, before we met you A and I discussed several different scenarios about doing a play on SALC and one of HER ideas was to have the girls come to Montreal, I felt differently, we therefore decided to find someone to come in and write for us. You had the same idea as A, which suited her just fine. I conceded. K, good luck in your future endeavors.

This is all that I will communicate on this matter. P


What does all of this mean - in not so veiled terms?
A big FUCK YOU is what she means.

ASIDE

Sure, I was a little bit emotional in my response, (I’m not blaming PMS) and I was perhaps too emotionally attached to the play, but at the same time, SALC was my final hope and prayer to a springboard to my career. I wasn't asking for much. Just a fucken writing credit - is that so much to ask? Must you NEED that much attention and soak up all that fame like pork fat on a slice of rye bread!?

I guess so.

And it's a sad day in TV sequel land because with my writing smarts, their acting experience, and our fantastic comedic timing and chemistry, we could have created our own next "Sex and the City".

The end (or is it?)

More verbal diarrhea

this spam crap is getting kind of funny.

I will stitch together some of this stuff over the holidays

of them depart out of them.
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And lamescream media around the world are lapping it up.
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a 75 mg slide

I'm going onto 75 mg today - from yesterday's 112mg of Effexxor, and I'm starting to feel the effects.

There is the agitation, increased appetite, sleeplessness - night sweats, vivid dreams, shakes and depression.

I can feel the apathy set in again, often finding my brows furrowed as I sit typing at my desk, trying to remember to do the yoga lion face pose.

Mouth open wide, tongue out, eyelids UP!

lids are lips are curling down, perhaps to keep me grounded somehow.
I don’t know anymore.



I'm feeling horribly betrayed and wish I could just pound the hell out of those women, but I'm exhausted all the time now. My Popsicle stick legs could barely carry me up the hill this morning as my icicle tip fingers tried to rub away the cold on my knees.


We are supposed to go to a party tonight - work party - always fun...

Must go back home and change.
Must go back home and leave ms. effexxor-less behind.


I hate the holidays...

The biggest kick in the face...

Well, so much for things coming full circle...

Last year, at this time, I was approached to write a sequel of sex and the city.

I did - put it under my hat and almost overnight - and last summer I came up with a premise so funny, we sold out 13 out of 13 shows everywhere we played.

And now I'm getting kicked in the face.

Not only are the girls* going to be putting the sad sequel to the spoof on again, they have re-used 95% of my jokes, took the same premise of the girls in Montreal, they are going to be playing at the Centaur (montreal's theater venue) in January.

So the fame and buzz will be about them, for something I started.


AND THAT"S NOT IT!


I am marked as "co-writer"

co-written by....

I almost ripped my eyes out.

And they are not saying anything, except one of them said in response to my good news about my cover shot:

congratulations!
Great Job

I don't mean to rain on your parade, but we are going to be playing at the centaur in January...


You fucken bitch.

Of course you meant to rain on my parade! Why else would you say that for?!?

I am fuming.
I can think of only one other time I have felt this betrayed.

But that's another story.

If they want to be douchebags about this - then get ready girls.

the claws are coming out....




*i use that term loosley - because what I have to really say would be too profane to write on this blog...

Re: Question

more delightful spam -a -lam!



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One has to wonder if Limbaugh continues to self-inflate that ego in order to gai...

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That go procedure

Nor does visiting the country transform someone into an expert.

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The space you are trying to view might not exist or access to it may be restrict...

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You okay