I Have a Dream

"We both had dreams," they answered, "but there is no one to interpret them." Then Joseph said to them, "Do not interpretations belong to God? Tell me your dreams." Genesis 40:8

"We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope." Martin Luther King Jr.

I can not speak on the life of struggling artists in New York City, but I can paint a picture of mine...

She had waited for the call. Something different. Something with substance...

Weeks ago, she raced up Park Avenue as the first flurries of the winter snowfall began, to knock on the guarded door of one of the oldest and most exclusive casting agencies in New York.

He greeted her with a warm English accent. They exchanged pleasantries and head shots.He promised to call, and before week's end he had kept his word.

The show was Damages. Her crucial role, a donor at a billionaire playboy's fundraising soiree. She was elated.

The day had arrived. She was to show up hair and makeup ready in a dirty little bar in NoHo at 3:30 sharp..she descended the stained steps into the dark holding room at 3:05 carrying a choice of upscale attire placed delicately in a wardrobe bag. The production assistant gave her a dismissive glance and scribbled her number on her pay stub. No names were needed.

She tiptoed through the quiet oppressive basement past lurking eyes and chose her spot to squat for the long shoot ahead of her. She knew choosing her seating arrangement was an important decision as it dictated the conversations that would soon invade. She soon met a man in therapy over his mother's withholding ways. He spoke freely.

She endured steaming heat to her scalp by the hair stylist, greasy cheeks blotted by the makeup artist, and was wearily looked up and down by the wardrobe representative. After three nods, she felt a sense of relief to be considered finally the "right sort of person" for the gig.

The call to set came quickly and the chosen ones all lined up against a stark brick wall as the director came to size us up. He approved of her rosy cheeks.

The cobblestoned street was tough to navigate as her three inch heels found every gap until she found herself at the threshold of the penthouse loft overlooking the broad span of Broadway. This was where the magic happened.

She let the overweight 2nd Assistant Director move her until she hit his desired mark. At action, she swayed, nodded, smiled, humored, clapped, flirted, and drank grape juice from a flute everytime Ted Danson raised his glass...

At the Director of Photography's call to wrap, she dutifully left the set, disrobed, stood at the back of the line and took her $140 check with a satisfied smile. Casually she strolled East through Calcutta (aka E.6th Street) under a scenic Cheshire Cat Moon and thought I've finally

made it.

"So I'm happy tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord!" Martin Luther King Jr.

Ask yourself, what would become with eternal optimism?