I drove by this building… No, that’s not right. I drove to this building when I was first in Maine. Had heard of the Theater at Monmouth, that they did good work.  And I sat in the parking lot. It was off-season, very quiet, and I thought “how lovely would it be to work here.” How does one make that happen.

This summer I get to play Goneril in King Lear and Ruth in Blithe Spirit on this stage. I’m very happy. It will be nice to be in Maine again.  Last summer, here in NYC, I had remembrances of camp life on the lakes in Maine. Probably mostly as I was standing in the 100 degree depths of the subway, sweating and filthy from walking around the city.  What I remember is community and relaxation. And lots of drinking, of course.  But one of my best memories is of my sister’s camp.  I was recovering from a surgery and got to just sit there at the water’s edge. Before the busy season. Sitting on the screened-in porch. There’s something so incredibly comforting about screened-in porches on lakes. There’s usually some musty day bed or the smell of camp wood. It’s a place you take naps after swimming.  And when it rains, it just feels like you’re right in the middle of the nature thing at work. And when the rain is done the water is as smooth as glass. You can see the dragon flies touching down for a second quite a distance away.

I’ve polled my fellow actors and they tell me it’s a good thing, a great thing to get out of the city in the summer. So I’ll be packing up and hitting the road. I managed to get a subletter for my room here, a necessity if this is something I intend to do with my life.  Feels a bit odd – someone sleeping in my room.  In New York, you learn how to protect your private time – there’s not much to be had.

I haven’t written a blog in some time.  I’m not good at finishing things. Or maintaining them, it seems. Things got busy - and I’m hard-pressed to say how.  Or even why this would affect just writing down an observation or posting a photo on occasion.

I was reading about one blogger who is a fantastic success (as a blogger, and in real life, it seems, or what she blogs of her real life, you can make things up, right?). She tells of her life, and people are smitten by her lifestyle and even want to come and visit her. They feel a part of her every day life.

Perhaps I just got tired of my story for a while. It was a bit of a downer at times (if I was looking to celebrate successes, that is, which I didn’t think I was).  The still not having an agent thing sucks.  But I’m being persistent and maintaining a good excel database and following up with postcards – all the things I should be doing.  At this stage.  Was talking to someone about it being a year June 1^st that I’ve been here and that I was going to ‘look at things’, ‘reflect back on what I’ve done’, etc.  And he said “What are you thinking – you thinking of coming back?” And I said “No, not that”. What I thought was ‘Hell, no!’

I’ve just been figuring how to get my toe in the door. I’ve been doing a lot of observing.  How to negotiate being an artist here. And in the meantime, I get the full benefits of this place.  Two days ago I did my walking rounds of grocery-buying and felt immensely proud of the fact that I found the best prices on bulk almonds, cranberries and sesame seeds at the Jewish market, then stopped at the hole-in-the-wall bagel place for two of the most amazing wheat bagels (for 1.50), then at the meat market for a very fresh package of chicken, followed by a stop to stock up on cheapest and best produce, ever, and a jar of honey, etc.  I was probably bearing about 15 pounds in bags on the last ¼ mile or so. But I felt like I accomplished something. And was in love with my neighborhood for being such a place.  

A friend of mine recently visited from L.A. and she said “It’s hard here, Niecey.” And it IS. Hauling your life around with you, the endless stairs – being in the city all day is a very large chore.  But I’m getting stronger, and better at it. Like finding the best book store slash coffee shop next to one of the best thrift shops, etc, around the corner from where I buy cat food and near the place with the best-priced coffee beans.  Places to land in the madness of it. 

I’ve got my grandmothers bearing – I remember her, tall and with a long stride, walking everywhere in Lewiston, us right behind her, trying to keep up.  I think of her as I’m walking around – “I’ll take two bagels, please…  Merci.”

I’ve always been a fan of architecture, too - so I find myself looking up, a lot, still. 

Thanks to the task of compiling taxes/needing a list of entertainment expenses - I’m able to pay tribute to the shows I’ve been given the gift of attending since I arrived in New York.  There have been over fifty.

Readings, performances, etc.  Broadway, Off Broadway & Off-Off - the gamut.

Got to see some heavy-hitters at work; Brian Bedford as Lady Bracknell; Francis McDormand as a guitar-playing teenager and Lili Taylor as a unicorn in a children’s show; Eric Bogosian at a fundraiser doing a couple of new monologues; exciting new work at Ensemble Studio Theatre; the ‘divine’ Charles Busch; Alfred Molina in Red; Lisa Kron’s new play at the Public; gorgeous frightening portrayal of a Nazi soldier in Way to Heaven at Repertorio Espanol; wildly imaginative production of Jose Rivera’s Sueno at NYU; Frantic Assembly & Nat’l Theatre of Scotland’s new show at St. Ann’s Warehouse (a place I want to live in); American Idiot!!; a most charming Hay Fever at the 100 year old Amateur Comedy Club in Murray Hill; readings of new works at LAByrinth & a raucous and giddy dress rehearsal of their new Broadway show; exciting directors like Sam Gold; Michael Shannon tearing up the stage in Mistakes Were Made; the gorgeous and dizzying Free Man of Color with Jeffrey Wright; surprisingly, emotionally beautiful Lombardi; Michael Cerveris doing an acoustic version of David Bowie’s Changes at Chris Wells’ Secret City (worshiping art and artists)i — to name a few. 

I owe a debt of gratitude to my patron for giving me the chance to experience this.  It’s been engaging, educational and inspiring. I can’t wait to join these people in action. 

(in no particular order)

Next Fall

Red

God of Carnage

Fox Tales

EST Marathon A

The Tick Parade

Babette’s Feast

EST Marathon B

A Toast with Champale

The Pearl Project

Shaheed

20th Century Way

The Magician

Ghost of Dracula

The Snake & the Falcon

A Home Across the Ocean

The Secret City

Way to Heaven

Grand-Guignol

Hay Fever

Neil Labute Reads at Drama Book Shop

In the Wake

In the Heights

The Pittman Painters

Secret City

Who am I This Time

Mistakes Were Made

The Coward

LAByrinth Barn / If You Love Me

A Free Man of Color

New Dramatists/Turnabout

Holy Cow

Nobody Suspects a Butterfly

Love, Loss & What I Wore

LAByrinth Barn / A Family for All Occasions

Lombardi

The Importance of Being Earnest

Gruesome Playground Inj

The Whipping Man

American Idiot

Sueno

A Perfect Future

The Pajama Men

The American Clock

Beautiful Burnout

What the Public Wants

The Divine Sister

Monodramas New York City Opera

As I Am Fully Known

August Osage County

A holiday window at Bergdorf Goodman on 5th Avenue.  I was smitten by this window.  It was magical.  I am ashamed to say I was also feeling covetous tonight. Glimpsing into the doors and windows of places like Bulgari and Tiffany.  A very wealthy woman standing inside one of the gilded doors, more than likely waiting for her car.  The pairs of women in full-length furs and obviously expensive purses.  I imagined walking in one of those stores and soon being kicked out. Because, well, you know and I know I couldn’t afford a velvet-lined box in one of those places.  I was confused. How this much wealth happens. And then ended up at St. Patrick’s Cathedral for the end of the evening mass. And I prayed and thanked God.  I’m so lucky to have what I do.  To have this chance to discover the city. To be sitting in St. Patrick’s Cathedral praying. So many incredible friends, and my family, well - I fell into the lucky well with my family. So - thank you and bless us all.

The world is cruel… and “those who can dry our tears, and force reluctant smiles to trembling lips, are more precious to us, if the truth be told, than all the statesmen and the generals and brainy people, even the great artists.” - Paul Johnson on his new book “Humorists”.

I’m finding the power of humor to be quite significant in the city. Humor, lightness. I’ve heard it before.  The way a smile, for instance, can effect your voice when you speak.  “Try doing it with a smile” is a direction that voice actors get.  And it brings brightness to your words. Give it a shot.  See how it feels.

It’s so easy to get into the eyes-down, fast-walking, shortened breath way of moving around. So, when I think of it, I put a small smile on my face as I’m walking. And I breath - take in deep breaths, when the surroundings allow, of course. Opening up my face and voice and heart to what’s around me.  It makes a difference.  Not even subtle - it’s a noticeable shift.  A choice, I suppose.

The other day I was winding through the crowds, from Bryant Park to 9th and 45th, and there was this flow.  The pace was vigorous, yes, and it was rush hour on the pavements of midtown. But I found such amazement at being in it. Being one of the ones moving around together. Sounds corny, I know, but it was quite beautiful. Everyone bundled up, with packages and backpacks, many-colored scarves, gloves, boots, leg-warmers. A pulsing, gorgeous crowd.

I remember thinking how much I missed my car when I first got here.  The privacy and down time allowed while driving from here to there. I don’t anymore.  I’ve discovered how I can be a moving, living being in the masses here. Without feeling overwhelmed or uncomfortable.

My sister and nephews were here from Thanksgiving. And I can legitimately speak about crowds here because we braved Soho on Black Friday and the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade at 70th & Central Park West.  I think we pretty much stood in one place for over 4 hours that morning.  The crowd became a family of sorts. And when that first float appeared, peaked around the corner of the gorgeous building to my left, with Central Park as a backdrop, I felt gleeful.  And so did everyone around me.  Group happiness. 

sidenote: There was an image I didn’t photograph, but was incredibly poignant to me during that time.  On the second floor of this building, a large sprawling apartment overlooking the park, there was young girl sitting in the window, hovering above the cold crowd.  And she wore pearls and a velvet dress and her hair was in tumbling blond curls.  And she had a very serious look on her face as she sat there - looking out over the crowds from her place above.  Just struck me somehow. -end sidenote.

Heading to a free reading of a play tonight that Mr. Philip Seymour Hoffman directed. Me and many, many other people, I’m sure. The description reads - Ten years after they were forced to disband, a group of superheroes gather for cocktails in a finished basement in the suburbs to try to unravel the mysteries of their final mission. I’m sure I will be smiling at some point in the evening. Possibly many times.

I don’t even want to look at the date of my last post. That’s how guilty I feel. I’ve created this; my guilt. It’s my own doing. So I will do my best to try to make it up to myself. 

The photo above is meant to inspire me.  See how nice and inviting and productive my office space looks, with Molly looking on, all supportive and cat-like (it’s actually a corner of my bedroom, but looking at it this way makes me feel like it’s an office sitting out on the top of some old barn overlooking the tree covered fields in back of my house.  a place to write and consider and create.)  A room of ones own comes to mind. Where is that place? And more importantly, that state of mind.

I was thinknig about bringing out all my feng shui accoutrements. I can blame it on this. My desk is not facing the right way. Not in my most productive corner. My back is to the door, for Gods’ sake.  Who can work this way? It’s no wonder.

This I will cast as the blame for my not having an agent yet, too.  The lack of feng shui. Though I do do things like head into the city at 6:30 AM yesterday to get in line on the street, in the cold, with many other actors waiting to sign up for a time to come back to see a couple of agents (at 9:20pm is my alloted time).  The people at the front of the line-they were there at 6am.

So the audition:  I did a monologue from The Little Dog Laughed. It’s a good one, and I believe I do it well. HOWEVER, as I’m getting ready to head back into the city, when most people would be thinking about going to bed after a long day, I’m thinking “These are agents… what if they don’t have a sense of humor?! What if this comes across as an insult to them?  It is, after all, a scathing portrayal of the business, and more specifically, of an agent in the business who’s morally demented.” I did it anyway.  And they sat there. It was like-well, it was as though the air had been sucked out of the room, and they had no life left in them. Well, just enough air to keep them sitting up.  He looked at my resume the entire time; head down (lack of air). She sat there and didn’t move, I think a half-smile pasted on (probably because she didn’t have enough air). It was supposed to be funny-this monologue. 

Then, like a good actor, I leave and play out all possible scenarios, while trying to maintain a “hey y’all, good luck in there - they’re great! I was great!” look on my face as I make my way through the waiting area.  The possible scenarios: “It was the end of the day, after all.” “They liked it inside.” “They were smiling inside.” “He was enthralled with my credits and didn’t have to look at me to know I was good.”  “My hair.” “My dress.” “Why the hell did I wear my boots, I can no longer consider myself a young, hip woman - I’m almost fifty for God’s sake.  Why did I wear the boots?!” “They didn’t have any air.” And so on.

Then you just let it all go. Poof. There it floats. Above the buildings I can’t see the tops of as I find my way back to the train. And I think f*#*k it.  I’m doing it.  I’m getting her done, as my Mom would say.

In spite of.  According to. With bells on. With hope and enthusiasm still engaged. 

Feels like I’m looking for the key, ya know? Like some adventure story.  Where is it in this city? Hmmm… could be anywhere. Every time I accomplish something like this-I’m getting more of an idea.  A clue.  Seeing into the minds of the ones who run the place. They’re not forthcoming, so it’s challenging.

In the meantime you do things like walk into a high-fa-looting concierge meeting at the Mandarin Oriental, where there are people who have jet planes (any size, and anywhere!) and yaghts (I don’t even know how to spell it, that’s how often I’ve been on one, or even written the word) and helicopters to offer their hotel customers. And I’m there to sell my client’s holiday CD. So funny that you want to just crawl under the ballroom table! But you do it. Or you write a letter to Steven Sondheim, the genius of the modern musical theater (I don’t even know how to spell it, that’s how often I’ve written Mr. Sondheim), as though it’s something you do every day.

And you do it. Cause then it becomes easier. And you feel, at least, like you’re entering into the world of this place, and all the gorgeous work done here.

Every week, when I talk to my lovely friend Susan (and life coach since last year) - I have a entire page of a notebook filled with the many things I’ve done toward my goal of being a working actor in the city. So therefore I know. 

So there. I did it. I wrote today! I feel good. Empowered. Going to take out more writing, dammit!! I’m going sell a screenplay. It’s about time.

Drama. 

It’s what I’m here for. Figured I’d post this - from the Fringe Festival, the production of Passchendaele. A mother who’s son is dying. It was intense - the scene.

Working on many things!  Must create a website, find my next job, agent, etc. etc. Attending Actorfest on Saturday.  Auditions tomorrow - of the general kind. A kind of first introduction to a couple of theaters I’d love to work with.

It’s work having people know your work. And I don’t mind that. And it takes so much time!!!  Which I blessedly have right now.

More tornado/high wind warning for today.  The wind is whipping through here now.  Ready to retreat to the dining room with no windows if I need to. 

Granola in Brooklyn kitchen with sun streaming in. Somehow it’s gotten to be that I know I’m home when I make a batch of granola.  So here we are!  Great high ceilings, quiet (enough) street.  Nice neighbors. A little fountain in the front yard next door that trickles away as I fall asleep.  Not that it was easy. Moving is never easy. And having done so five times since December - way-back-when when I sold my house - I can’t tell you how nice to finally be opening boxes and putting things away. Well, not away - the storage is problematic. I’ve started chanting the mantra “what would Ikea do?”  I know - terrible to remake that phrase, but it’s what came to mind. And considering the Ikea worshippers out there, not terribly untrue.

Sidenote: you can get to the Ikea here by an Ikea water taxi from Manhattan. And there’s a 22 acre esplanade on the waterfront (grass, plantings, pier). And from the cafeteria, where you can get their famous meatballs for $3.99, you can sit and look out into NY harbor and the statue of liberty.

Our neighborhood doesn’t have as high a ‘walk score’ as Park Slope. (walk score is big in NY) But there’s a great grocery opens 24 hours that has the most amazing produce - apples for 69c/lb and you can find homemade russian crepes.  and there’s good pizza a block away, some of the best around.  A ten minute walk this last weekend to the south end of Prospect Park; the lake, joggers, bikers. Our landlord is fantastic - lived up in this apartment herself; her parents, now passed, lived downstairs. They had never rented this place before. They installed all new wood floors, painted, spackled, fancied up. Feels new, but old, you know. Lots of majestic trim. 

Now I need to get to work!!! I need to be working on theater. I KNOW I just closed a show and moved, but I don’t have my next one in place, and that makes me feel untethered and somewhat nervous.  Like I’m not doing my job. Main excuse: We haven’t had the internet here - which, in my mind, shouldn’t make or break a career or lifestyle, but nowadays - it does. Other: Driving and moving and unpacking.

Have a few auditions scheduled and followed up with an agent yesterday - and much to my surprise, she actually picked up the phone and said she’d call me back.  My prayer is that I’ll have another acting job by the end of the year - October would be nice.  If it were to close at the end of October, when my fun family visit happens.  In my dreams, it’s all four sibs and our Mom (right Mom?!!). The Bolt Bus now travels to Boston. Not much more than the Fung Wah -and is apparently much more likely to not go off the road.  Okay  - must get to work!!  Really, I must…  A breezy 61 degrees here today.  The cat is curled up on the end of the bed. Molly knows she can settle here for a while and that makes me happy. (and she seems to be gaining weight, Claire!!).  Hercules, the unneautered male cat from my previoius sublet, has gone missing. The owner thinks he may walking to this side of Brooklyn to be with Molly again. I’ll keep my eyes peeled. 

On this glorious August morning, I’m contemplating what $12.62 will buy me. A decent bottle of shampoo. A pedicure (which I’ve never had). A block of really good mozzarella from the specialty Italian food shop. At the discount place up the street (I love this place!!) 10 pair of quality, L’Eggs-brand sweater tights. A glass and half of wine in a restaurant, or 4 bottles of 3 buck chuck.  A movie and small popcorn.  Approx 1/20th of the price of a used bike. Or, in New York, with a very generous amount of tax, the opportunity to take a number of years off my life.  Hmmmm… 

I need support around this, and I’ll be looking for it. Maybe there’s a group of some really cool ex-smokers in New York, taking walks and cooking healthy food and just laughing and loving life every moment, because they’re so healthy and their lungs are relieved and healing.  And they’re not the kind of ex-smokers that hate smokers - they embrace them and feel empathy for them. And hope that they, too one day can experience life without the need to spend their cash on something that is expending their life. 

I’m cooler when I smoke.  And now I will get fat. 

I had to write that down to see how it looks in print.  Like a 12 year old, or something.  The 12 year old who smoked with her friends in the woods behind Walton School, as a matter of fact. (sorry to let you know this way, Mom).    

While hanging out in the village, waiting for my friends this wine shop window made me very happy.

Thanks, Mom, for reminding me to write my blog!  A bit of a whirlwind opening our show and all that. Plus we’re looking for our next New York home, Laura & I! We’ve seen some some pretty lousy places (5 hours traveling to see 2 apartments) and one really, really good one. Keep your fingers and toes crossed for us - we find out today!  Then you can come over for pancakes and mimosas on Sunday morning. I’ll let Laura know I invited you. And then we can walk in the really nice park close by.

The show went really well. Lots of enthusiasm, standing and clapping. Feels great to have set in some tiny roots in the large massive ground of NY theater.  Then we were walking around, heading out to see another show in the Fringe after we opened, and there were many, many others doing the same thing.  All wandering the streets of the Bowery and NoHo, programs in hand.  Lining up for this show or that. A community of theatre-goers. Felt like heaven to me.

Can’t wait to find my next project! It’s around the corner, somewhere. Just haven’t run into it yet.

Once we settle and I can get my few remaining things around me again, I’ll feel like I can really take off running.  Or biking.  I want to get a bike (and a helmet, yes, I will do that to).

I feel constantly grateful for the wonderful people in my life. And for my royal patron, without which, this would not have been possible.  Merci mes amis. I have such enthusiasm for this work, this will never go away.

I find myself drawn to the children on the subway. Sometimes the adults seem to have gone away a bit. Shut down some. But the children: they laugh and are enjoying the thrill of the ride. 

That’s me.  Looking at this window. Walking around the village with friends. A joy-filled ride. 

(okay, with the joy comes tears. I’ve had my share. Last was this morning, while looking at that youtube video of the double rainbow in yosemite. of this man  brought to tears by this sight. unparalelled joy at the wonder of it all.)

Movies with a view. I’ll say. Getting ready to watch the Big Lebowski with a mass of adoring fans spread out over the lawn on the water in Brooklyn. Even with this crush of people, there was a respectful hush throughout the film. Except, of course, when we were laughing like crazy or when John Turturro’s hand appeared, and the crowd cheered like a rock star was going to come on stage. Because soon he was there, Jesus in the purple jumpsuit.

This city reveals itself to me as I walk; ride; sit in public spaces. Come to think of it, once you leave for the day, everything is public, with the exception of (most) bathroom stalls. Used to having that bit of alone time, even if was just a 20 minute car ride. I’ve managed to find serene places to rest in the city, though, in between this and that. I’m finding this to be important. Apartment-wise - looking at a possible year-long sublet tonight in Park Slope - with a rooftop deck!

The Passchendaele project opens in a couple of weeks - come on by, if you’re in the area.

My search for an agent and my next theatre project continue. Ideas welcome any time.

I feel excited about my future in this city. The hard work of this doesn’t daunt me; it fuels me.  The challenge of trying to inform people about what I do, and the dedication I have to this doing. It’s what I am, really, what I’ve been for a long time. And the good things is - to keep it from being the only thing in your life, to keep from getting too self-involved - if you have the wherewithal to step outside the door and into the fray of humanity here – there’s so much life and activity to throw your energy into, that you have no choice but to do so. Then you can come home exhausted, but so, so sated. And happy for those moments when you’re in the kitchen making a pie, for instance. Which ends up feeling like the sanest, most lovely thing in the world.

From inside the Columbus Circle mall; a Manolo Valdes sculpture. I was quite taken with her, this figure. It’s been weeks since I last posted!! Started rehearsals on my show. Exciting, intense. Started a Fitzmaurice voice class. Exciting, intense. Crashed an audition yesterday for a big-deal play (had to overcome many, many voices inside this head of mine to get myself there!!). It’s been terribly hot. Makes everything difficult, because, of course, you have to walk and carry your life around with you. How to be ‘fresh as a daisy’ in the audition room is the key! Been exploring different, possible new neighborhoods. Sunnyside in Queens is nice! Lots of great advice and contacts from everyone. And I continue to pursue yet more.  Today my sister Sue told me to get some pepper spray to put in my purse.  I promise, I will, sis!  She’s currently at her wonderful inn on the coast of Alaska, where you can stay and have her make you breakfast and her husband Dave will take you out on the ocean to catch some fresh salmon (really, I’ll send you all the info!).  I miss my family and friends in Maine and beyond.  But am finding myself quite busy. Mostly with the work of getting work.  But I also get to walk around and feel amazed by what I see.  Amazed that I’m here.  I still feel that, too.

I always hoped I wouldn’t be the person that always talked about the weather. You know “Hot enough for ya…”.  But then I saw the 102 degree scorching sun symbol on my phone weather app. I braved the heat to get ingredients for gazpacho - my life seemed to depend on it. Lime, tomato, cucumber, fresh basil, etc. And homemade corn tortillas.

All were out on their stoops here in Brooklyn last night. My cats were stretched out on the cool tile on the lower level.  The NY Times this morning says ”…record-breaking heat wave”.

Yes!! I’m here in Brooklyn for the next round of subletting - until end of August. Sweet, charming house with a backyard. Laura F. (of L.A.) and Stephanie D. (of Portland) will be my (also) charming roommates.

Start rehearsals for my Fringe project on Monday. Off to check out the gorgeous Brooklyn Library to get some research done.

Saw the 4^th of July fireworks display from a rooftop in Hell’s Kitchen. The skyscrapers lit up behind us, the silhouette of people on the rooftops with the huge display on the Hudson behind them. A glass of wine. And some cupcakes and homemade pizza. Pretty much perfect.

Explored some of the Brooklyn Museum of Art on their free 1st Saturday event.

Getting down to business time!!! Looking for agent, voice agent, headshot photographer - all of it!!  Also starting a Fitzmaurice voice class with this amazing teacher tomorrow.

I keep hearing how daunting it is, how it wears you down, takes it toll; the life of an actor in this city. My prayer: Gird me up. Give me strength. Keep me humble and on my path.

I especially am drawn to the frozen nougat cannoli and the individual ice cream cakes. Woke up to 82 degrees. At 6:30 am. 

Still no apartment - though I remain hopeful.  And will brave a trip to Brooklyn to look at apartments today. 

Saw some amazing theater last week. Abbie’s show was gorgeous and smart and fun.  The Ensemble Studio Theatre Mararthon of new plays was scintillating. I actually felt thrilled sitting five rows up in a small blackbox watching David Rasche (of Mamet fame) doing a new David Auburn piece “Amateurs” (Proof).  Another piece devastated me. “Airorne” - a young woman - parachuting, free-falling to her death, and speaking to a officer about her life and all that’s happening, moment to moment on the way down. Stunning movement and use of a long, white length of fabric. And a performance by a young woman named Julie Fitzpatrick that stunned me with it’s simple, powerful truths.

Then backyard artist gathering in Brooklyn. A tarp, a few lights, burgers and a keg of beer. A play by an old college friend (with 3 others there, too - hadn’t seen them since, oh, about 1988.). There was a classlical ensemble playing new work to a short film that featured jellyfish in motion. And yes, yet another burlesque show. It seems to be the thing - it’s the rage, women undressing on stages here. In a comedic way, or not.   

Up to 91 degrees in the city today. I walked to and from an open call four times, seeing if they’ll accept non-equity actors. They kept saying ‘check back”. Ended up not happening. I’d heard such nightmares about equity monitors - but you know what - he was really nice. Learning the ropes - in oppressive heat!

Still looking for our apartment - didn’t get the one we wanted. a drag, BUT on a positive note… we went to see another place in the same area, and because we were on our own - we walked down the streets our broker just happened to avoid, or have us avoid. The apartment was awful.  And the train was late. And it was so crowded and hot you couldn’t move or breath. And we decided not to live in Washington Heights.

So on to Brooklyn and beyond.  Met more and more people who live in Brooklyn. And there’s this new Ikea with an esplanade (yes, I know) and a Trader Joes. 

You gotta be positive in this town. Through the heat and the ‘no’s and the stairs. I try to look up as much as I can, avoid the beaten ground and to the amazing architecture and the sky. 

Going to see “Babette’s Feast” tonight, with the lovely Abigail (of “Earnest), then another show Friday, and Sat & Sun.

It’s all you need. This stage - so charming. Two chairs, a curtain and few lights. Greenwich Village for a sketch comedy show last night. Outdoor cafes all around. New friends and old friends and great Italian food.

Alas, no photos from the mermaid parade - the place was mobbed, the parade line 5 deep. A few in our group sitting on the curb until we bailed and went to a neighborhood Italian place that was incredible, almost cafeteria-like. They were rude and barely spoke English and the food was, well, to die for. 

It’s sweltering in the city.  My cats sleeping belly-up waiting for a bit of a breeze.

Seeing many shows this week!  All old friends - some performing, some as playwrights, some as both. 

Union News! After a lengthy process of petitioning for re-admition to SAG membership (this going on since Feb) - they informed me that they’re welcoming me back! This means I can re-join SAG (film), then join Equity (stage), then start auditioning for the nice, paying jobs.  It’s a huge piece of news.  Means I don’t have to go before a SAG committee in person to plead my case.  I’m hoping AFTRA (tv & radio) will follow. Then I’ll be legit - a legit actor with no agent.  Ah well, just a little bump in the road. 

On my way home last night it struck me that as a walking person, I feel so much more aware. Aware of where  I stand in the world, or on the street corner, for that matter. I’ve never spent so much time spent crossing streets!  I miss my car when I have to buy large amounts of groceries or cat litter or canned tomatoes.

Met with our future landlord yesterday. One step closer to getting our apartment. She likes us, we like her, we gave her money. I may be moving (again, and finally, for now) in a week or so. Have my things around me again. They’re calling me from their dark little unit - beckoning me to bring them home.