Just A Nor'Easter

"While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night, shall not cease.” Genesis 8:22

Today.

Something happens more substantial than October rain.

Steam rushes off the white caps of the ever present Hudson as driving wet white snow, blankets the golden gingkos. The river resembles a smoldering nights fire and the down jackets pulled from storage 2 months early are greased with a glistening sheen. Coal covered slush whips from bald tires of hallowed eye cab drivers and welcomes in another day of work.

It's October.

I sit on Captain's leather couch and write this on my mini computer/phone that fits in the palm of my hand as we are, so they say "quiet on set".

The french director can't even make eye contact with those lesser and shudders with the notion for 2nd teamers to read the lines of less than profound formula writers.

I should talk....

I've worked nearly 70 hours at this junction of this sleeting Saturday so I'm more irritable than should be.

My excuse for me in New York has morphed into another space; as it has currently become the most fascinating character in this television show and a fine opponent in the mind game I play with myself. I like to call it important work.

I've fallen into a position of privy which allows me to pitch scripts and audition daily and I find myself to be so disillusioned with the lack of humanity and heart that the most meaningful moment for me is the fact I will be sharing beers with the camera crew tonight at wrap.

Maybe it's the weather. Maybe it's because I miss my husband. Maybe it's because I stand at an Observation Window in a built, make believe set more then I stand at my own kitchen sink.

Could it just be time for Motherhood?

Peaceful Revolution?

“All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be competent, equipped for every good work.” 2 Timothy 3:16-17

Woke up with enough time to do nine push ups and a handful of jumping jacks to Michael Franti before catching the crosstown bus from hell to another simply marvelous joy filled 15 hour work day where I am (without sarcasm) content.

On this early morning commute a rather irate pregnant woman demanded to get on bus while the driver repeatedly closed the door on her and said there's no where to sit but his lap. She screamed and flailed her arms until the driver relented. Once she made her point and squeezed her non showing belly and grossly scowling forehead between the white line and four raised armpits, all of the passengers had turned against her.

But before the nonsense ensued, in my four minute attempt to work off the late night catering in the privacy of my quiet home, I honed in on Franti's lyrics...Oh My God.

And prayed for the peace that would come if we would all cry out to Him.

Oh my, oh my God
here mama they got us livin’ suicide singin’
Oh my, oh my God, oh my God

Listenin' to my stethoscope on a rope
internal lullabies, human cries
thumps and silence, the language of violence
algorithmic, cataclysmic, seismic, biorhythmic
you can make a life longer, but you can’t save it
you can make a clone and then you try to enslave it?
stealin’ DNA samples from the unborn
and then you comin’ after us
‘cause we sampled a James Brown horn?
scientists who’s God is progress
a four-headed sheep is their latest project
the CIA runin’ like they're Jones from Indiana
but they still won’t talk about that Jones in Guyana
this ain’t no cartoon, no one slips on bananas. Singing Oh my God. MF

Who can save us from ourselves?

Stand-In, Job Description: Stand In

Sit down...Why thanks, I'd love to.

Are They Fighting the Same Beast?

Wherever the Wind Takes Me

"He made the moon to mark the seasons; the sun knows its time for setting." Psalm 104:19

Its cold. But not the bitter cold of the hallmark holidays are upon us cold. But the kind of cold that reminds you that they're near. And the cold that says time waits for no one.

But that's a new notion. Not one you are acutely aware of when caught up in back to school shopping trips and bags of stale candy corn. That frightful realization that time paces itself under a different set of rules and doesn't keep track of closet turnovers and the warm return of pumpkin spice lattes. The cold I feel now takes me back to a place of ache, that chilling and obvious feeling of anticipation. To be prepared for something.

But what?

Funny thing about living in a city where millions of round the worlders come to visit is that those of us waking and working don't go to the top of the Statue of liberty, take in the view from Empire State, or skate under 30 Rocks shadow. We are not spending our days accumulating SoHo shopping bags, our sunsets sippping on a Hudson tour or our evenings warming the orchestra seats of the the Lion King.

Giving God the Glory and the thanks to dramatic television, I view New York City with an intimate and unconventional lens.

This morning I lie on my back in the most secluded corner of sensational Central Park hidden from the eyes of 110th street and amongst the radiant warm colors of another year drawing nearer to end. Props has brought in a few fake trees they position around me. Their green waxy surface will be out of place in one week's time. The last time I was in the park, the forsythia lit up the walk.

The yellow crime scene tape flaps against the oaks. And electric scrambles up ladders strategically positioned out of the shot. The producer pulls on his collar as the timecards and budget rack up.

We're chasing the sun again. It passes over the island so much earlier these days. We never catch it.

A stiff breeze sends the clouds across the October sky and rustles the weeping Willow's limbs. And I wonder what else the wind will rush in.

Do you ever feel like time is running out?*

Qaddafi's did.

The Mind is a Terrible Thing to Waste

"Making the best use of the time, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is." Ephesians 5:16-17

A record 15 hours locked on the fourth floor of an abandoned psych ward amongst rubber helmet patients, checking for stains on moldy love seats in isolation rooms is disturbing enough.

But the fact that I am so depleted by nights end, I rob you of the pleasure of reading the full disclosure reminiscent of One Flew Over a Cuckoo's Nest and all its maniacal details is just a shame.

Memo for tomorrow...

I will write on set.

I will write on set.

I will write on set.

I will. I will.

Pass the Peace Pipe

"Great peace have those who love your law; nothing can make them stumble." Psalm 119:65

Maybe the multiple stabbings in my neighborhood won't make me stumble but could encourage me to flee home....>>

Is His strength your solace?

A (Back)ground Actor's Life For Me

A few of our friends telling it just like it is.
Behold, the glamorous life....

Sign of the Times

Sad but true...>>

Sticktoitivness

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us."Hebrews 12:1

Sick and Tired.

I'm not talking about the coughing, hacking, sneezing, hollow eyed mid week MTA commuters.

Sick and tired is how I describe my swollen face, blood shot eyes, stuffy head, and weak and sore limbs. Just hung up with my casting agent. For the next 16 days, NBC Universal will be shooting three episodes in pure chaos tandem. Translating into double overtime. Resulting in mental and physical exhaustion.

I lie on the table this seasonably cold and dismal rainy night, as a former EMT in Harlem during the crack epidemic sticks needles into every one of my closed gates and manipulates them until my muscles spasm and spread shock waves through my tense body.

It's my therapy.

And my therapist says my skin, body, and brain are whacked out for two reasons:

Exposure: (ie New York does not agree with me and I should get the hell out)

or

Expression:(ie New York does not agree with me and I should get the hell out)

He also mentions post traumatic stress syndrome as another theory....My wrists both pop from the pressure and I close my eyes and feel the soft raft underneath my body float gently on top of the salty Caribbean.

Where it all (husband met, best friend murdered, secrets kept, Wachovia sued, money stolen, home lost, security suffered) started.

As he pulled the sharp points from the tips of my ears, I coherently decided that here (where I ultimately fled) is where it will end.

"Tension is who you think you should be. Relaxation is who you are." Chinese Proverb

What's with the holding on?

Today

"Knowing their thoughts, he said to them, "Every kingdom divided against itself is laid waste, and no city or house divided against itself will stand." Matthew 12:25

Jokes On Them

O offspring of Israel his servant, sons of Jacob, his chosen ones! 1 Chronicles 16:13

I Love New York.

Reason 99

The privilege of laughing at Relatively Speaking: Three One-Act Comedies on Broadway written by self deprecating Jews about Jews starring Jews alongside Jews on Yom Kippur Eve.

And getting an upgrade cause a drunk Irishman vomited behind my cheap seat.

The Suckers

Is this okay?

Look Alike

As I walked out my front door so to speak, Nurse Jackie crew was unloading.

Spent day in Harlem, logged 11 hours, came home and Nurse Jackie crew was still shooting.

So glad I'm Kelli's stand-in.

Today in photos of Edie Falco in Tompkins Square Park

I'll Be Dead Soon

"commit to the lord whatever you do and your plans will succeed.." proverbs 16:3

nothing like a long bus ride under flourescent lights, listening to a dominican woman scream how she hates her life, to decompress from my 15 hour day at the office and to reflect on the past and hedge my bets on the yet to come.

steve jobs is dead at 56, and his legacy is in the hands of almost every haggard commuter tonight. union square is full as usual and a lone man holds a sign high above his rainbow afro reading..."the end is near."

a funny thing happened when i transitioned from struggling back ground actor and hopeful but seldom principal auditioner to everyday grunt crew on a drama series, it become evident that i did not need to chase the marquis lights in a couture gown and heels. i could and suprisingly am perfectly content to pull on dungarees and work boots to be a part of the magnificent whole.

to watch dolly grips move chasies, gaffers climb ladders to hang blonde lights, camera ops don black ninja suits to alleviate reflection, director of photography gauge the bulb strengths, focus pullers shift, set dressers paint, props set details, boom mics doge chaos, background strategically placed, actors hitting their marks, and at word cut, producers nodding their heads with approval.

being surrounded by people chasing their passion regardless of naysayers, setbacks, exhaustion, who are going forward into their life and not settling for mediocrity but for meaning has been the greatest gift in living in new york.

"your time is limited. don't waste it living someone else's life."

steve jobs

what will you do with the time you have left?

(widespread outage of internet and cable in lower manhattan. and alas, my blackberry doesn't allow for capital letters. bet the iphone does.)

Rowdy but Right

"A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger." Proverbs 15:1

And the media is having a field day.

Not this country boy's shining moment, but he does endorse my guy.

Bocephus later apologized for the extreme analogy saying he was not comparing either contemporary to Hitler but making the point that the two (Boehner and Obama) are enemies with nothing in common.

We say grace, we say ma'am, if you ain't into that, we don't give a damn.

Land Spreading Out, Far and Wide

"I'd rather sit alone on a pumpkin and have it all to myself than be crowded on a velvet cushion."Henry David Thoreau