The Tatted Chick

Currently, I'm 33 and I'm about to approach my 34th birthday. If you've been following my blog you'll know that birthdays are always a resurrection for me. I usually take the weeks prior to it to reflect and recharge. I can't help but think of my cousin who died when I was twelve years old. He died at 33 of a heart aneurysm. He had just turned 33, with two kids in tow.

Not only have I thought of him throughout the year, but the tragedy of his passing has been with me for most of my life. So much so that I tatted his initials on my arms six years ago.  Weirdly, the tattoos provided a lot of healing. Wearing the painful memory on my body for all of these years took away the anguish associated his death from my mind.

But, 33 can't be an age that represents death. As I reflect on the past year, I embrace the dynamic, exciting, and healing events that took place.

So I decided to cover up one of the wings. The pain of his passing no longer defines me. I instead got an adaptation of the artwork that I helped design for my play, There's the Moon and Then There's You. I love what Tex from Authentic Tattoo did with the cover up. I feel like I'm truly wearing art. She's done four of my five tattoos and she's created beautiful work every time.

As I look upon my tattoos, I'm truly amazed at the story that it tells about my life. On my shoulder are the Bindlestiff rings I got at 20. The rings represent the motto of my resident theater which is to, "Never Give Up." The one of my left arm is what remain's of the memorial tattoo of my cousin. It's his last initial with an angel wing attached to it. The flower piece on my wrist and forearm are the birth flowers that connect me, my brother, and parents.

Who I was in my past, who I am as an artist, who I am as a writer, and who I am in my family is all there.

The story is written.

Fashion Memories : 90's Tommy Hilfiger Jackets

I came across this photo on Tumblr and I had a weird moment of being transported to 1995. It was my freshman year of high school. I started a new school, with new people, that were different from the classmates I had before.  I had never been in a prep school environment prior to this. The vibe was fake as fuck. In hindsight, going to that high school prepared me for the rest of my life. It's funny how things work out like that, but I spent the next four years feeling like I didn't belong there at all.

Fashion wise, the kids at my new school wore designer stuff. In junior high, I would have to borrow basketball jerseys from guys for step team performances, which had to match with my baggy jeans stolen from the local mall. I was trying to fit in the grimy and hustling ways of some of my junior high friends. I think the lowest point of my moral compass was stuffing stolen makeup into an umbrella and trading baby tees that we'd stolen from the mall in the girls bathroom. I digress.

Anyways, back to this jacket. I had an almost exact replica of this jacket to the left. Actually, lies, it was my mom's jacket. That's right. You read that correctly. My mom bought an orange Tommy Hilfiger jacket, and me being so thirsty to fit into my new school, I would take it from time to time to feel fly. I have a very clear memory of a classmate telling me that I looked like an orange safety cone.  He even made a driving and crash gesture towards me and everyone started laughing. I mean, I was kind of butthurt about it, but I was laughing at myself too. I suppose at fourteen I took a lot of things seriously, but I wasn't mad that  I legit looked like a safety buoy.  I never wore the jacket again, and I was drawn to safer colors such as dark blue and red. I actually was able to get a dope red, yellow, and blue panel version of that jacket later in the year. I was also fresh to death with blue Nautica challenge jacket later for Christmas that year.

So back to this picture. When I saw this fly ass Asian chick rocking the safety buoy jacket of my nightmares, I couldn't help but laugh my ass off. I mean, look at her. She looks so dope, right? It's a larger lesson about fashion that I didn't realize in 1995. You don't have that confident smolder at fourteen. You have a decade ahead of awkward and character building moments.

Fourth Time's a Charm : Tokyo

First night in Tokyo: Drunk bat cadging

Before I was in Australia I had traveled to Tokyo to visit my brother. It was a last minute invite from my family that I couldn't refuse. Although, I was a bit hesitant since I'd been there three times before. I felt like the money would be better spent going somewhere I hadn't been. I'm actually glad that I went though.

It took the fourth visit for me to actually appreciate Tokyo for the dope city that it is, rather than standing afar admiring its novelty. When I first visited Tokyo in 2009 I just lost my mind. I was still living in San Francisco at the time and the fashion was still going through it's post neo soul phase. I was tired of wearing leaf colors and hats, and I had this misguided idea that Japanese people know how to do this fashion shit, so I should buy up all of that fashion shit.  I ended up going home from that trip with a bunch of clothes that I would end up selling in the years to come. I don't regret it. I tell people everyone loses their shit in Tokyo at least once.

My brother has been living in Tokyo for a few years now. It was a trip to see him guide us around the city. Although this time around, I felt assured that I could get around the city by myself just fine. Much of that trip was me going off on my own and meeting everyone else later.

Where are we going? I don't know. 

The biggest highlight of that trip was spending quality time with my brother, which is just co signing with the usual shit that he likes to do. "So do you want to go to the batting cages?" um okay. "So do you want to go rock climbing?" Uh. Sure.

Although I could've done both of those activities back home, going to the batting cages drunk at 2am is just a blast. There are outdoor batting cages in the middle of the city, and with a green tea and whiskey in tow I allowed myself to just swing away.

Did I go shopping? Yeah not crazy kind. Shopping in Tokyo is kind of just madness, but like a quiet madness. It's not like Black Friday here in the states where you're afraid for your life, but every time I come here I find that people have an excitement about shopping that's contagious. I went home with three items. If you'd known the old me. That's a vast, vast, vast improvement.

Here are other highlights:

Abura Soba. 

Didn't really eat anything new except for some Abura Soba, which was the fucking tits. You're probably like ... where's the soup, Christina? You don't need soup, bruh. There's magical chili oil, spices, and garlic below all of that sexy noodle.

Best day ever. 

Yes this is an owl. I hope there are no animal rights violations associated with this owl cafe. From what I observed the owls were very pampered and loved. This guy that I'm holding got a complimentary hose shower because it was over a 100 degrees outside. The glee and happiness getting to pet a motherfucking owl was worth the damn trip.









It's been real Japan. Arigatou gozaimasu *peace sign*

Travel 2015 : Australia

Meet me at the Harbour

I'm currently in Australia. This is my fourth time here. The first time was when I was eleven years old. I have a large extended family that resides here, which consists of four cousins are my instant best friends every time we see each other. It feels weird to say the words best friends in my thirties, but there's no other way to explain this relationship.

Four months ago my relationship ended. I could have went anywhere in the world to sort out my feelings about it, but I decided to book a ticket to Australia. My mom joked that I wanted to run to the farthest place on the planet. Maybe she was right. I worked really hard to hold it together. So when it fell apart I couldn't look back at it anymore. I wanted to laugh and smile with reckless abandon again, so I booked a ticket to be with the people who bring this out in me.

I don't know what it is, I just have a strong bond with my family here, and I see them maybe every five to ten years. I've been trying to figure out if it's the easy going nature of Australian culture or just the nature of having relatives that are far away. You want the best moments for the short time you see each other, so you keep the laughs going, find the best stories to tell them, and take the time to appreciate every second of it. I find myself at my happiest when I'm here. I'm currently experiencing overwhelming joy and separation anxiety at the same time. I'm know I'm going to be crying my eyes out when I leave this place.  Life is cruel in that way sometimes, but you have to love hard and be present for the short moments you have.

A Year of Big Decisions

I'm not a fan of the show, Girls, but I was cracking up at the season trailer when her boyfriend says, "To Hannah, to taking the next step. In a series of random steps." I haven't been caught up with the show for a minute, but I think this line has to do with her decision to attend an MFA program in Iowa. Sound familiar? I suppose I should be invested in this plot line but I think I'm over the era of arbitrary decisions and random steps. I don't like to waste time and money. I'm going to predict that by the end of this season this little bitch named Hannah is going to drop out in one of the most prestigious writing programs in the nation. I can't ... with her.

As usual, my blog posts have been few and far in between. Although, it's bad for this blog it means that things are busy for me. While I was in the Bay Area I had gotten a job that would allow me to work remote from Los Angeles. Training for the job prolonged my moving date, but I'm grateful that I took the time to set some roots that would take care me financially. The next step is make roots in the other area of my life, which is my writing life. I have a goal of getting into the the industry in 2015. In the bay area this goal is lofty. People look at me with both concern, retrained laughter, and doubt when I tell them this. I don't know if I'm too old or too invested to entertain it, but all I know is that there is a prophecy to fulfill and I have not choice to pursue it. In screenwriting, if this story is going to take form in the "Hero's Journey" we will call this current phase, "The Call to Adventure."

Good news ... the adventure has sort of started. My play and graduate thesis will be making it's world premiere in San Francisco in May 2015. Out of everything that I wrote in graduate school. I'm the most proud of that play. It's something that best reflects of who I am as a writer at this moment. I'll talk about the play more in the upcoming year, but since it's in the early stages of production I sort of want to keep the suspense.

Here's another big decision that I'm dealing with. While I am now on my grind and shit. How much fun do I want to have? Talk to me five years ago ... I'd would've been like .... YOLO MOTHERFUCKER! I'm a thousand percent serious on this issue. When I last moved here I don't know if you remember the entries, but I was a hedonist mess ass. There are a few key differences in current version of my LA self. I hardly drink, go out, and do all things. It's very YO.NO.

One of the biggest reasons for this is I took charge of my health. A few months ago I had a very sobering doctor's visit. We need not get into the details, but I cleaned up my eating and started working out like I was training for the hunger games. I am the mocking jay. Bitch. The problem with this is I can't go back to the way I was, because my health will take a toll. But the way that I was, was so fucking fun. I was the party girl and now she's dead.

I'm going to end the post with this. I'm adjusting to a new self in a not so new city. The dream is still big. The work ethic is still the same. All I can do is take it one day at a time.

Long Beach Indie Digital Edutainment Conference 2014 #Fashion Politics

I was a panel speaker for the Long Beach Digital Edutainment conference. The conference simultaneously focuses on social justice, media, technology, and entertainment. It was one of the most engaging events that I've ever participated in and I felt at home with like minded peers.

I was invited to discuss fashion politics based on my screen play "Harajuku Faux Pas," which is about an African American teenager that dresses in Japanese Goth Lolita attire.

I weighed in on topics that deal with fashion/cultural misappropriation, ethical garment production, and the purpose of fashion as a POC. All of the workshop attendees were encouraged to take their thoughts digitally using the hashtag #LBIDEC.

Dr. Chetachi A. Egwu, Gail Taylor, and my serious panel face.

The root of the picture on the right is actually a funny story. My boyfriend had texted me this right after the panel discussion had ended, and it sort of freaked me out because he wasn't even there, but found it through the hashtag.

I was definitely engaged in the conversation and was thrilled with the attendee participation.  My graduate program was not exactly an environment for meaningful conversation regarding people of color,  and the energy made me included in something that mattered.

My favorite discussion was led by founder of The Unslut Project, Emily Linden. She gave a riveting personal talk about her experience with slut shaming as a preteen. It was a story that deeply resonated with me. With the increasing number of young women committing suicide due to sexual bullying, I found her talk to relevant and inspiring.

According to the website "The UnSlut Project promotes gender equality, sex positivity, and comprehensive, age-appropriate sex education for all ages. This is a collaborative space for sharing stories and creating awareness about sexual bullying, slut shaming, and related issues. "If you get a chance you should check out their website and the trailer for their fully funded documentary is on their site. This is a great conference for educated free thinkers to engage in many socio political conversations that are relevant in our digital age.  It was a honor to be chosen! I had a great time connecting with some awesome women.  Below was the full schedule of the topics covered as well as the esteemed panelists. 

Here are also some videos that I recommended to some of the panelists that were relevant to our panel discussions.

Sewanee Writers Conference 2014 Review

The local reservoir.  Awesome swimming experience! 

If you've never been to a writing conference before this post might bore the hell out you. This is mostly for someone who might find this and want to know more about the Sewanee Writers Conference, because there isn't much from the perspective of the playwriting attendees.

I attended was the Sewanee Writers Conference at the University of the South in Sewanee, Tennessee.  The conference is supported by the Tennessee Williams estate, and the town and university prides itself in being somewhat of a writer's colony. I was excited to visit the south, since I'd never been. My only reference to the south is only what I've seen in movies. As usual, I was in love with the accents and the southern hospitality. I've never been to any place so green. There were lush trees and plants everywhere. I also was geeked to see my first firefly! They are everywhere along with the sounds of cicadas in the background.

The conference was twelve days long. Yes you heard that correctly 12 days! The University of the South is located in a remote part of Tennessee where there is nothing but a few businesses around. Nashville is about an hour and half away so I was pretty much on campus for the whole twelve days.

Most of the writers and teachers were esteemed poets and published authors, many of which were SWC alumni. The day itself was about eight hours. There are readings, craft talks, editors panels, and more readings through out the day. In the evening time there would be poetry readings at the pub, trivia, and more drinking at a beautifully restored property called the "French House. " They had a great band playing while writers got to drink and mingle.

The accommodations are mixed. I got to stay in the new dorms that's a bit of treck from a lot of the activities. The mattresses were like sleeping on bricks and coffins. The food however, was really amazing. I never felt hungry or even sober for most of the time I was there. There was plenty of free alcohol for the most part and there's nothing that goes hand and hand like drinking and writing!

Although this is my first conference my experience gave me a lot of good information into what to research for future conferences. This is one of the most esteemed literary events to be accepted to, but I felt that their coordination of the playwriting aspect of the conference fell short. Out of the 20 readings that were TWO stageworks. There was ONE craft talk on playwriting and although she was a playwright and a teacher, she talked about her personal experience about writing an adaptive screenplay in hollywood.  As a playwright attendee, I was so disappointed.

My workshop experience ... was just that- an experience. It wasn't amazing. I met a pool of playwrights who were wonderful and amazing. However, it wasn't the right workshop environment for me. I only got to workshop once out of the twelve days and it wasn't fulfilling. I really enjoyed the one hour talk I had with my teacher and advisor. He gave me a wealth of information and encouragement, as well as solid craft feedback. I know now that there are better conferences for playwrights. I will probably pursue those in the future  but it was a honor to be chosen for Sewanee.

The End. Post Graduate Updates.

Undergraduate/Graduate: Still stressed

So the end happened.  About three months I was honored my degree for an MFA in Writing for the Screen and Stage.

My man, my family came to support me in the mean streets of Evanston.  Everyone was happy for me, but I was on the brink of meltdown. Stress has a very debilitating effect on me. If you were to look into my brain under stress you would see countless checklists. In my mind I would be focused one checklist and then three little checklists will pop up.

Then I'll get a phone call, an email, a text. The checklists will all disappear. I lose my place. I take of whatever immediate distraction and then start sorting through the lists in my mind all over again.

I almost didn't make it in the ceremony because I filled out the wrong form. Yes, let me repeat that. I almost didn't walk in my own Masters Graduation ceremony, because I filled out the wrong form. I went to go pick up my graduation tickets. The woman politely informed me that I had not even registered for the ceremony. I was about to collapse on the ground and kick my feet in the air. But I couldn't, this was Northwestern University.  I had to put on my WASP gangster face on and not be affected. I negotiated my ass off and I barely got into the ceremony.

Every day leading up to that day was meltdown central, but I finally I walked across the stage, and looked into the crowd. I was amongst the most elite intellectuals in the nation, and I almost fucked up the most important moment of my graduate school career. However,  I was the happiest that I had ever been when I got my Masters hood put on me. I was meant to be there even if I almost sabotaged it.

I look at my two graduation pictures side by side. They look almost identical despite the fact that there is almost a decade between the two. I went to two colleges that had purple school colors! My parents also have a penchant for fuchsia colored leis. I have the same look of uncertainty and fear. Don't be mistaken though- a lot of interesting and character building crap happened in between. The root of my fear is this- graduate school was the end game for my anxiety and fears in my twenties. Now that it's done and I'm in my thirties- what's next?

I have a large career to look forward to and the steps that I took to get to the first end game now have to be applied to this new one. The end has happened and now I have to move on.

Birthday 2014: Bad Bitch Contest I'm in First Place

Yep I can read the words upside down

Keep in mind a lot of these posts are on the #latergram status because I couldn't get my life together as these moments were happening.

Lets talk about my birthday ... well. I turned 32.

These are the years that the years keep on passing by. I think I have the Wendy Williams approach on aging.  There's nothing wrong with a tight dress at 50 why not add some heels and a microphone at 32? I introduced my cohorts to Korean karaoke in Chicago. If you've ever been to a Korean karaoke club, getting a sweet room with alcohol and and food served to you is pretty sweet. You get to sing sweet tunes on a fancy programmed microphone all night long.

However, this club will remain nameless but it was not as swank as the Korean karaoke clubs in LA or Asia. It looked like a cheaply made house that was converted into a cheaply made brothel that was eventually cheaply made into a Karaoke bar.  Basically so much cheaply made was happening and I could not handle. But everyone had a great time and I was grateful that I had gotten to spend my birthday with such wonderful friends. I was drunk as a skunk. I was rockstar and hot mess all at once. Here's a song to commemorate the experience.

I'm pretty amazed at how much I didn't blog during the two years that I was here.  I thought I knew who I was before I got here.  Perhaps I just sketched the blueprint. One thing I know for sure is that I love writing. I truly love it.  I loved it before I came here and I love it more now. I had so much to learn and I'm grateful that I wasn't so self righteous in the process. But if I must be transparent- I will say that emotionally I have aged tremendously. To the naysayers and haters in the world, a MFA program is not a cute little two year writing workshop. I had the loveliest cohort, but to surrender your pride and soul to workshop and take criticism everyday is a beautifully painful thing.

I'm in the last quarter of my graduate program. My field of study is in one of most competitive and stressful industries known to most and conquered by few. I'm in the field of screenwriting, television writing, and playwriting. A part of me is eager to get out there and work, but I'm also anxious and depressed as I prepare for the level of ego degrading experiences ahead of me. There has never been an easy route to any success of my life. This next phase will not be any different. Even at looking at this blog, I realize that I have gotten rid of many of the superficial things that I used to love so much.

At this moment, as I approach the last month before graduation. I am so tired, exhausted, drained .... done. I am done with this journey. I don't even have an escape plan in mind. I'm just done.  I don't want my work to be under the watchful eyes of teachers anymore or the snap judgements of what it is I'm trying to write. Yes, I know it comes with the trade, but for at least two months after graduation I just want to write prose and build again.

Some great things I'd like to share. I wrote a full length play that became my thesis.  It had so many struggles that even my grade my deducted for it. After a million meltdowns which included no eating or sleeping for a time, I finally created an opus- an ode to the pain that I experienced before this journey began. It's etched in the dialogue. It's layered in the characters. I'm showing it to you but you can't see it. Booyakasha is all I can say. I wrote a play bitch.

I'm attending two amazing conferences this summer. One of them being the Sewanee Writers Conference and the other being the Long Beach Digital Edutainment Conference. Again, Booyakasha.

I'm happy.

What To Value When You Have To Do It Alone?

She asked me, "How was your undergrad experience?" The mental health expert looks across to me and awaits my answer. Up until this question I was fidgeting, guarded, and shut down. But then- I light up and say, "It was great. The best time of my life." I remember the feeling clearly.  It was as if for a moment I was experiencing youth again. Gone were the expectations to be the super writer/gradstudent/girlfriend/friend/daughter/etc. or the anxiety of what if I'm going to be fucking poor and desperate in four months. I genuinely remembered a moment of my life where I was having a great time. Maybe in ten years I will remember these moments of being alone and maybe I will crave them. These two years of writing and crafting will mean something, and this really concise but intense time of my life will be a distant memory.  I'm  trying to appease people whom I may never see again.

Ying Out.

New Year 2014: What it means to a bootch like me.

I'm waiting in yet another line at Chicago Midway airport during one of the coldest days of the year.

I thought I was smart in not traveling with my winter jacket because of the bulk, but I was actually stupid. I'm shivering in baggage claim in my Northwestern hoodie and eggplant pants. They lost my luggage in the Chicago Midway Airport. My good friend lets me borrow her eggplant colored jacket for the way home so I don't get hypothermia. I am the spitting image of Grimace . 

I finally shuffle into my Evanston apartment, and I plop my tired head onto my couch after 12 hours of layovers and lines at three different airports. As my face buries into my pillow the first question I ask is, whew, where has my life gone? Hella dramatic, I know. But foreal- Am I doing life? Living life? Being life? What the fuck is life about !?! 

Some time ago I read an interview that Lena Dunham did with Mindy Kaling , and it had me on the floor laughing. When asked about what she would like her legacy to be,  Mindy Kaling said, 

"She threw the most amazing parties and she had the most gorgeous and cheerful husband. Gay teenagers would dress up as her for Halloween. She seemed to have read every book, yet no one ever saw her reading. She had the appetite of an Olympic swimmer and the physique of an Olympic figure skater. She dressed like Chloë Sevigny and could fuck for hours. . ."

When I read those words .... I was like - me too.

Why am I not throwing great parties?! No gay teen is going to want to dress like me if I look like grimace. How are they going to emulate an icon that spends most her days in sweats! Things are happening, they've always been happening, but I'm not content with the present state of things and I am eager to have my vibrancy back.

I really, really, really want to recharge. And not in that superficial neo/pretentious/hippie/new age type of way. It's the start of the new year and of course my eyes are being raped with everyone's fucking resolutions and inspirational quotes.  I would love to start the year with a new version of myself, but as this ole girl has learned, you change with the times as the times will allow.

Here are just a few I'd like to just hold to my heart, so that I can recharge mentally.

1. The age deterrent: I'm not longer going to use my age as a means to justify anything or to even start a conversation. I'm seeing a lot of women my age do this and it's annoying. "Oh I'm almost 30 ... so I should do A, B, and C before babies..." Nope. My age will no longer determine the value of my worth, intelligence, looks, or reproductive organs.

2. Read a form of literature for pleasure: I'm told that six minutes of this will increase happiness substantially. So yes I need to read a fucking book. I used to love them. What happened?

3. Not eat like 13 year old boy: If I could do this for at least winter, I'll aiming for a less than craptastic body before summer.

4. Finish Shit: Like one thing at a time. I am notorious for having at least twenty tabs open, because I'm doing everything and finishing nothing. I've been functioning this way for the past five years and I'm morphing into an ADD kid that can't pay attention to anything.

5. Put it Down: I have an unhealthy relationship with my phone. I think I'm helping with managing time, but I'm not really managing shit. I'm looking at people's fly ass fashion, lives, thoughts, and food while I'm in my sweats procrastinating on work.

6. Envision and Plan: I need to make time out of my day to envision and plan for what it is that I truly want. My needs and aspirations are horribly short term, because of the things that I need to do for school. It will help me gain a healthy perspective of my life and the goals attached to them.

These are just some first week of New Year goals that I'd like to tackle, in addition to my quest to help humanity and all of its flaws.

Happy New Year everyone.

How I managed getting what I wanted.

What was it like to finally get what I wanted? First of all, it was hard. The happiness of achieving a goal was mind blowing, but graduate school doesn't validate anything except that you need to work harder.  I've never been so emotionally drained in trying to keep up with everything. I was managing my life in school after a seven year absence, while embarking in a new long distanced relationship, then appearing for family and friend's life events, and maintaining and creating meaningful relationship with my new cohorts and teachers. I endured the year hoping to fly back to Los Angeles and embark into hedonism that I first experienced when I first moved here .

Wrong.

The act of maintaining continued and it worked me all summer long.  Los Angeles was a launching pad into my dreams, and every day of this summer I was so stressed about everything and anything. Nothing is ever balanced when you are obsessed with succeeding, but god damn it- I really thought I could part the river the summer. I did it without really having a place to live and it fucked me up royally.

Now I am at the end of the summer about to start my second year of grad school, and I've learned that I don't need to catch up with anything- I need to just be. It's easier said than done and being present in the moment is something that I'm not good at doing. I've lived a million different lives in my mind- sometimes through other people. Mostly I've lived a millions lives as a different version of myself. I will never accept the current version of myself. I always have to be better- but why?

I should never stop preparing for the next moment of excellence, but the current version of Christina is operating the campaign, and I should treat it with more respect.  Today I accept that not everything I'm doing will be perfectly managed equally.  I move forward tomorrow still giving myself the opportunity to learn. 

Power.

They say that you can't always have what you want, at the time that you want it.  This is not the same for art. In art, you can have exactly what you want, at exactly the time that you want it. All you need is enough passion, preparation, and vision. Yesterday, was my second film shoot ever. I prepared my ass off to write, produce, and direct this simple six page horror script. I got home at around midnight, slept at 1:00,  and I woke up a few hours later in tears.  I haven't gone back to sleep yet. I don't have my people with me, the ones that have known me for the past decade or beyond, and just know what I need.  I have to convince fairly new friends and colleagues to trust my vision.  I didn't achieve  that today.

By no means am I a Svengali, and I never aim to be, but I had this revelation with my partner the other day, and I haven't been able to shake it.  I told him I feel like I've been chasing power all of my life, and I never really have it.  Except. When I'm making my art.  In these moments,  I forget all of the negative energy that holds me back and I create a "symphony." Whether it's been with writing, dance, or directing I just know in my gut when I have the symphony. I know when I created the piece that defines my creed, desires, and being.  I think with this particular production I just worked on,  I was hoping for that moment, but it fell flat.

Each venture is practice for something greater if you learn from it. Three hours later from since I woke up, I'm still collecting my data.  I have to remember that it was absolutely to my benefit to be this far away from the familiar to work on my craft. Without distraction and interruption,  I often have the best learning stride. Although I miss home terribly. I just need to be patient.  I'll be able to communicate my vision better soon. It'll take more practice. 

Grad School Life: Winter Addition

So gone are the days of being a glamourpuss.

This winter quarter has been super kicking my ass.  It just started off all bad....

I came back to school with a kidney stone. If you've never pass one, just imagine someone stabbing you from the inside. I got it removed, but there were a lot of complications.  The nurses told me the pain of a kidney stone is worse than a childbirth.

Send me a baby. I'm ready mofo.

I'm in the playwriting phase of my program, which has taken me into dark places. My professor is a provocateur and a darling in the playwriting world. His class has definitely has encouraged me to go as dark as I've imagined. The snow and the short winter days have given me horror movie thoughts. Man, just looking at my face in this pic is so telling. I've started to worry about my mental health as well as my physical being. I hope I don't have a Jack Nicholson moment a la The Shining.  I've spent the morning committing to more solution based thoughts.  Finishing this program is a monumental accomplishment, but I need to find happiness while I'm here. I want to enjoy the limited time I have here.