Dream On

I had a very strange dream last night. It might have been a past life recollection.


I was traveling across some land which was hilly and green. I was on the ground but not in a car. I looked up and saw several winged people carrying non-winged people. The winged ones sported beautiful light pink and white feathered wings. They were beautiful. I couldn’t believe that someone had made wings that you could actually use to fly. Then I came into a large building with many rooms. There was a lot of activity. There were elders that had gathered as well. Everyone was preparing me and one other person for a trip. We were the only 2 people allowed into the “enemy’s” camp. We had some sort of guild membership which allowed us to enter their land. Everyone was giving me supplies for the trip. My ex-husband's Mom gave me a gold bowl which had been hammered into it’s shape. She also gave me a green piece of mid-century pottery that her mother had made. It was sort of a long cigar shaped bowl, like an olive dish. I was afraid it would break, so I left it behind. And I thought the gold bowl would be much luckier. I was also given some kind of object to give to the enemy, nothing dangerous or aggressive. I was concerned that I couldn’t carry all these things and steer the animal I was to ride. I don’t remember if it flew or not, only that it had reigns.



Isn’t that weird? The only thing I did even remotely close to any of this was attend Irish class, but we read a contemporary story. I have no idea what this means

Has Been

I got something today I haven't received in years: a request from a casting director. I stopped acting professionally in 1998, just before the big commercial strike. It was a well timed retirement, considering. But all of my calls had become "bite and smiles" which is the sort of commercial where you take a bite of something and become orgasmic about it's taste. I'm not a good bite and smile candidate. That's more of a tooth model job. One of my last auditions consisted of me talking to a camera, alone, while the casting people gnawed newly arrived KFC. No one noticed when I left the room, the chicken was more interesting. Another was for Knorr soups, which had decided to call itself "Ka-Norr." We all joked about "ka-nocking" before we entered. It was a stupid commercial. A business women is waiting for her luggage at LAX and worrying about what to cook for dinner. Suddenly a chef rolls by on the luggage carousel, as they do. He gives her a meal short-cut with Ka-Norr. She is pleased. I would have thought they wanted a commercial, over-the-top sort of read. I mean it's a chef on the luggage thing. But once I got in front of the camera, the casting people told me to read it very straight, very subtle. OK. I read it as deadpan as I could. No reaction. They looked at each other and said, "Well, it's VERY subtle, almost dramatic." "Yes," the other casting person remarked, "but she could give it a bit more reaction. Maybe she's frightened by the chef." What?? We're inventing way too much back story here. And I was intimidated by the 17 six-foot tall models out in the lobby waiting to come in. Clearly a five-foot character actress was not what they wanted. I just reacted. I said, "It's not fucking Shakespeare." They stopped, stared at me...and politely said thank you, that is all. And I never went back to that studio again.

Life, Misery and Other Excuses

I hate it when people say they were going to do something but something else got in the way. "I was going to bake a cake for you, but it got late." "We were going to make it to your party, but he didn't feel well." They are all mild excuses for missing out on an event, an occasion or an obligation. Mostly they are kinder ways of saying “I don’t want to hang out with you – you’re boring.” But they can also be truly tragic. “I missed the party because my husband was in the hospital.”



When did life get so complicated that we have to make excuses? What are we missing when we don’t see through our obligations? Are we just losing sleep or are we missing true opportunities?



Saturday night, Russ and I went to see our friend Eva’s play. She wrote and produced it. Usually, that’s a bad sign. We thought about not going. We were tired. We’re always tired it seems. But we went, convinced we’d make the best of it. What we found was an astounding play, unbelievably good. Written by a 24 year old. I’m 40 and I haven’t’ done anything even close. The play made us feel great for seeing our friend’s remarkable talent. And then we felt bad because we’re underachievers. Then I decided to blog. Maybe it’s a start. On what, I have no idea. But I woke up with this title. Maybe I can think of something to fill up the rest.