I'm blowing off the dust from my keys this morning. I have landed and settled into the rolling rural landscape of Western Massachusetts. Since we don't get any phone reception in our strangely quaint yet utilitarian lodgings, I'v been pretending to be unreachable. So I'll pretend once again that I just discovered that we had free access to internet this entire time.

I spent this past week and a half getting acclimated to my new rural Massachusetts existence. I'm doubly immersing. I'm immersing myself in Berkshire foothill life, all the while riding a train to Kentucky during the rehearsal hours.

Speaking of rehearsal, we are in the heart of rehearsing our first of three plays, and we start a read-through of play number two on Monday. The first play is a two-character play, or a two-hander. So the air in our shared apartment is charged with deep concentration and slight brain fatigue as we struggle to learn our lines. It's safe to say that I am apprehensive and exhilarated by the notion of rehearsing two plays at a time.

But it hasn't been all work and no play. Since my arrival, we've had a nice sit-down dinner with our grill-master of a director. We've spent a lazy evening at he Dream-Away lodge listening to Appalacha-inspired music, picnicked and kayaked at Spectator pond, and karaoke'd at the biker bar next door.

Although I recognize the need to put more effort into maintaining ties with the outside world, it's awfully tempting to put life on hold as I roll through this summer.

Travel Logistics for the Logistically Challenged

I'm in a noisy coffee shop off of noisy street, and I'm attempting to drown out the cacophony in my head that is fretting about every precious detail of my fast-approaching departure to Massachusetts. My concentration is flickering in and out, like my jacked-up wireless signal which I'm stealing from the 'hipper' coffee shop across the street. And on top of the 'detail-freak' voice chattering away between my ears, the tyrannical 'figure-out-whachya-gonna-do-your-life' voice has made its presence known, intent on whispering insidious reminders and warnings.

I have a strange expectation for myself to have a fully-loaded power-point presentation of my life plan completed and ready before I take another step.

I've become a terrible executioner. Let me rephrase. I love forming master life-plans, but my devil is truly in the details. Since I began learning the "live in the moment" lessons, I'm not quite sure I understand just how to balance that idea, and also make some serious progress and changes in the practical world. Although, As I reflect back on my biggest and coolest accomplishments, I've realized that they all have come about when I was just willing to play around. Still it's becoming harder for me to trust that the details will just work themselves out.

One thing consistently remains the same (and redundant): I am genuinely excited for a change of pace and location. There is something freeing and wonderful about a new place. An opportunity for reinvention. When no one is around to remind you of old images you have of yourself, a space opens to become something new...or nothing at all, in the very best sense.

Breaktime is OVER!

It's been a long week since my last post. I'm just now getting my groove back. I returned home to the realization that I've got so much to do before I leave for the summer, and the clock is ticking loudly on my fancy phone...Oh yeah, I lost my fancy phone, the one that keeps my schedule, records my to-dos, brushes my teeth, and makes me feel special.

I've been finding it unbelievably difficult to balance an online life with an actual one. I signed up for all of the cool social networking sites, and barely find time to keep up. I know friends of mine, real movers and shakers, who can sit with a hand on their cell phone, a nose in a laptop, an i-pod speaker in their earlobe, and yet still have a lucid, albeit less engaging conversation with me. Their might be an app for multi-tasking of which I am not aware. I find that after a day of tweeting, commenting, status-updating, etc, my mind is swimming in cyber-soup.

However, I am back on track with my posting, and right now, I am in the middle of sublet search that so far has yielded promising results. Hopefully I can simplify and automate a lot of the logistics of out-of-town work, so I can free up my mind for rehearsals and performance during the ten weeks in Massachusetts.

This is just a quickie to get me back on track. Thanks for your patience, anyone who has been consistently checking this out, and I am wishing you all of the very best.

DC Bound

This will be just a quick note to let y'all know I'll be away for a day or two, and will have more to say on Tuesday when I return. At the moment, I'm on my way to a matinee performance of Othello, and then heading out to DC in the evening:

Occasionally I get to work with a wonderful company called TrialRun. They are a consulting company that specializes in training lawyers in courtroom skills; preparation, litigation, etc. I starred in a few of Trial Run's web-cast training modules that they created for a particular client. And so tomorrow my character(s) will make a guest appearance at a conference in Arlington, VA. This will give training lawyers and lawyers in training the opportunity to practice their litigation skills in live scenarios. It's a really cool gig, I have a lot of fun doing it, and I'm totally looking forward to a solo road trip to clear my head a little.

Last night, we opened Othello so the cast and crew can all breathe a collective sigh of relief. I'm proud of the work we've all done, and it seemed to be very well received.

During this process I had been so goal-driven that I think I had forgotten how to surrender and let everything be just as it is. So I spent the day before the show contemplating that idea. I folded laundry, did some meditation, tidied my living room, and tried to be with each activity. I made conscious effort to remind myself that no matter how much my ego wants to get in the way in my performance, the evening will unfold in whatever way it is meant to. I think that idea gave me some permission to feel those nerve-pangs, without letting them undo me completely. Normally before a show or an opening, I try to align my stars; center my mind, body, and soul (the universe just laughed at me). Instead, I decided to just show up in whatever head-space I was in, and let it rip. I think it helped me get out of my own way a little.

Be well everyone, and enjoy the day.

The 'Voice Lesson' Lesson

Before the Lesson

This is my first blog-on-the-go. I'm typing it on my phone, testing the notion that my thumbs can be as expressive as the starting line-up on my hands.

At the mo, I'm on a subway/trolley car in a cavern under Mt. Washington. I'm on my way to a voice lesson, for which I'm not prepared. I'm tired, feeling flat, and I'm not sure I should be spending the few bucks I have on the lesson. But I told him I'd be there. I've got this A-1 instructor, whom I hate to disappoint. I spent the morning in a heated debate with myself about whether I'd actually show-up or call off. It went a little something like this: "It's a total 3 1/2 hour commute...but I told him I'd be there. I can't even afford the lesson...but I said I would be there. I'm performing in a Shakespearean tragedy twice today...but I shouldn't cancel!"

What's really up is that I haven't been committed to my singing at all lately. I just figured out what I have to do. To be continued...

After the Lesson

Sometimes I don't give others the credit they deserve. I decided I would tell him the whole ugly truth. And that went something like this: "I've lost my fire for this. I am vastly under-prepared, I don't think I can spare the cash, and I'm really sorry that I might be wasting your time, today." Then I winced, ready for the verbal flogging I thought I deserved.

My amazing voice teacher shrugged, muttered something akin to 'no worries' and told me a story about how when he was a young performer, had to sneak out at night and steal vegetables from neighborhood gardens for food. I took mental note of that idea, and then stood there dumbfounded at the grace he was offering me, and the wasted time worrying about yet another calamity that would never come to pass. He then spent the next forty-five minutes being inspiring as usual and coaxing my voice into 'Robert Plant-like' excellence. Almost.

He's really in it for the teaching. Thank you, TR. What I can do for him is give him my glowing recommendation as a master teacher. The universe, and I, will repay him for his kindness.

In the Garden of Good and Better

Lately, I have been inspired by the goodness in others. Some friends of mine have been reading this blog, and have responded with kindness, job opportunities, ear buds, and toilet paper. (fist-pump) For instance:

I'm going to 'hoe it up' for money outside of the city this week. Some wonderful acquaintances (soon to be friends, I'm sure; they're pretty cool) have an amazing two acres of flora outside of their house, and they are looking for a little gardening and maintenance help. I can't think of anything better than a couple of days surrounded by chlorophyll green, playing in the dirt. Not only will it be great work, away from my usual brain-grinding, it's answered prayer and will help me to 'put money in my purse'. (An Othello reference, not an indication of my actual accessory choices). Thanks again, RA and B!

Another friend of mine sent me a sweet note and a new pair of headphones. Thank you, NB! In return, I'll make her a music mix CD, including, of course, some of my morning dance party tunes that shake me like a Polaroid picture.

I'm looking forward to paying it all forward.

For your consideration

I wonder if other actors have had any success working remotely while they are out of town. I will have a very busy summer with three shows and wonder if there is work I can do for a few hours a day that requires nothing but a computer and some fast typing fingers, so that I can make some extra dough before New York in September. Universe, consider this a personal query.

Anyway, I casually brought up my interest in personal coaching as a profession in the dressing room a day or two ago, and was met with some good natured, albeit negative perceptions of the industry. I have some deep convictions about things, but a lot of times, I can be easily influenced and shaken by the opinions of others, especially those I like and respect. These comments could have taken the cliched 'wind right out of my sails' . What struck me this time is that I was totally unfazed by the mildly disparaging remarks. It felt good to know that that this particular conviction was deeper than the good opinions of my well-intending pals. I mean, a profession that inspires people, helps them to become what they want to become and achieve greater and greater dreams...sounds pretty awesome to me.

From a Trench in Venice/Cyprus

I'm hanging backstage during the first half of a twelve hour rehearsal. My notebook computer is humming away in the over-lit guys communal dressing room...It's probably the loveliest day of the season in Pittsburgh, and 15+ dedicated practitioners have forgone a lazy Saturday BBQ to drag around swords and 7 lb. headgear. And the men are armed, too. I've met many an actor who loathes tech rehearsal (marathon rehearsal events when all design elements come slowly together)...

But I dig it. I love the stopping/starting so I can take a breath and reflect on choices I've made. AND after a few hours of tedium, everybody gets a little punch-drunk, and I magically become hilarious. Tech is my comedy roofie.

Roderigo Character Development Status: My body is being remotely controlled by an alien. Moving on.

I've been thinking (for a few years now) about starting a personal coaching business, and and a few nights ago I stumbled on a website featuring a former theater grad who is doing exactly want I want to do, exactly how I'd like to be doing it. I may send her a supportive message and ask her just how she got started. Mostly because she seems to love what she does and that's what it is all about, right. And, hey, if you're considering a career change and/or an injection of creativity, check her out, and let me know what you think. You can find her HERE.

Decision New York: Still on, but I'm with some reservation. Reason tells me, 'hold up, homey, and think this through, mr. precarious-bank-account-balancing man', and inner-child says, 'oooh, pretty lights!' Maybe I need to trust the rotation of the earth and see how it all plays out over the next couple of months. After all, (Iago:) 'There are many events in the womb of time which will be delivered;)'

I'm also adopting that as my new pick-up line.

Back in Black

Payday! If anyone's been following closely, I was hanging by a tiny financial thread for a weak or so. And I made it, with 279 pennies to spare in my checking account (They are holding mine in pennies now). Some close calls, but had more than enough to eat, and even found 5 bones to catch Iron Man 2, which is a tax write-off for actors, right? So tomorrow I get audited. Just kidding. More impressively, I did it without freaking out. I'm a proud pauper. The universe sent me a message in the shape of my last free-range all natural chicken breast. Here it is. Sorry veggie friends.

Hot Rod...Not So Hot.

We started rehearsal at about three o-clock with a review of Act II and then ran the whole show for the first time, so it was a little rocky, as to be expected. Personally I felt like I (Roderigo) was stuck in an uninspired fog, that followed me from the wings on each entrance. I was having a great time off stage, mind you. Chatting up my cast-mates, little cup of coffee...good times.

I know the lines, I generally know my blocking, I think I know my job. And I feel pretty safe. Wait, did you hear that? It's the alarum bell of dreadful acting to come, ringing in my ears. The danger is in thinking I can show up and expect to find more in just playing it, repetition, and generally I do. But what I truly feel I should do is tear open my script, see what else I can find, get really specific about each moment and action I'm playing, and above all, make sure I'm telling the story. And here's another career-risking admission: This is precisely the point where I've gotten lazy in the past. Good for me. I might be growing.

Thank you all for keeping me accountable, even if you didn't know you were.

Oh Brother, How Art Thou?

Today is my big bro's birthday. We don't talk much. We're cool, we're just inherently different people. He's got two precocious redheaded boys, good steady work, a wonderful wife, and lives close to where we grew up. Where I spent most of my childhood making music and learning to juggle, he spent his silently battling it out on the wrestling mat, soccer field, and baseball diamond. And I admire the guy more than I've ever told him.

So we don't connect on a lot of issues. He's not a man of many words. We're not gonna discuss Eastern philosophy, unless I can tie it in with the Yankees line-up. We never talk about what I do, and we certainly never talk about our 'feelings'. It's just how we roll.

So, this past Christmas, I'm visiting the family, making the rounds, and he calls me up to grab lunch. The dynamic is familiar...I puff out my chest a little to prove I've still got some testosterone, and he's half preoccupied with a game on a big screen above the bar. And out of nowhere he asks me, "So...what's it like being an actor, really? Tell me about some of your roles." I laugh, look down at my fries, and give him some stock answer, and then I realize he's asking me for reals. He's curious. So, I go with it and just start talking. Then he wants to know how I do it, what's the process. After awhile, I'm telling him stories of forgotten lines, missed entrances, and he's laughing it up, genuinely engaged. He gets it.

Then I get it. Dude's proud of me.

He may never actually say the words, but that experience continues to inspire me. And maybe next time I see him, I'll deflate my chest, put my voice in my normal higher register, and tell the guy I'm proud of him too. He's the most authentic guy I know. Happy Birthday, man. You're awesome.

The Sound of Broken Earphones-Frugalicious

I broke my ear-buds for my eye-pod. I am no longer 'plugged-in'. My generation and younger won't travel very far without white wire necklaces pumping compressed audio. (Check out this article in the New York Times about diminishing sound quality in music today) Since I've been making it a habit of walking my 'frugalicious' booty to rehearsal and back, I've been experiencing the sounds of just normal life sounds mixed with a little silence. Besides my necessary morning routine of freestyle party dancing with Outkast, Black-Eyed Peas, and a host of others, I might take some time before I plug back in. Oh, Life before the reign of MP3.

Looking for Roderigo

It's only days until rehearsal turns tech turns preview turns opening night, and I haven't quite found that 'thing'. The 'thing' to me is always some image, some flaw, some music, something that makes the character real in my head, and helps me to click in and embody it. A flash of inspiration that takes me out of the lines, and into the moment. Here's a scary admission: sometimes I never find it. And yet other times, it's there at first rehearsal. And it doesn't matter how close 'I' am to the character or not. I don't feel like I'm making terrible choices, or that Rod doesn't have some life. But the 'thing' isn't there. Yet.

I'm gonna try this idea where you write down a question for your subconscious mind to mull over while you sleep. It'll go something like this: Rod, buddy, thou must show thyself to me pal, 'cause opening night is drawing nigh, and no one wants to see me loseth my s@$# all over the Shakespearian stage. It's high time for a quiet reread.

Toilet Paper or A Can-Opener - Life's Ultimate Conundrum

Day #2 of my (latest) financial wake-up call. I was graciously escorted to yesterday's Othello rehearsal by a friend in the cast, the father of my beloved Desdemona. When we got there, I was offered a free ticket to see the opening of Pittsburgh Playwrights production of August Wilson's Jitney (which was wonderful).

Saturday night entertainment? Check. Money spent: $0.00

Late after the show, I took a portion of that two-digit number in my account and bought a few staples. Upon realizing that it was office supplies I needed the least, I returned the staples and bought some bread, milk, and a few canned goods.

Then...a double whammy. Famished after a long day of acting, spectating, shopping, and returning, I grabbed a can of some fresh albacore, only to remember that not but 22 hours earlier, my only can-opener had suddenly trisected, clanging into the sink after a fight with a robust can of Campbell's Selects 'something' Noodle Soup. Flash-forward, now, to a teeth brushing session, when I looked down to see 1/8 of a inch left on...sigh...the final roll of toilet paper.

So began a curious debate in my head on the merits of each household item, and if, heaven forbid, one was forced to choose, which item would be seen as more essential? It's not really cut and dry (pun brilliantly unintended). Let's say you have a healthy stack of canned items, and some rough generic brand paper-towels... Anyway, you better believe I'm changing my 'desert island' answers after this week.

And then, another little blessing: I came across a receipt for a haircut I got during the last show...fully reimbursable by the theater company! Now, fifteen big ones doesn't sound very big at all, but it pulled me right out of the mental ring where Signor Can-Opener, and Herr Toilet Paper were ready to come to blows.

The point? I'm finding that when I am looking for the blessings, the little miracles, they just naturally appear. (I think they're always happening in the first place). And when funny little hiccups occur, it's fun practice for me to say, "I wonder what little reminder of goodness is on its way to put this into perspective." Then I reach for a glass of water.

'Money Matters.' An Experiment

Well, I don't know how this happened, but somehow in my human development, I skipped a few necessary life-skills (probably so I could go have fun creating things). You know Abraham Maslow's pyramid of self-actualization? Neither do I, apparently. Since I've been doing some consistent work on stage these past few months, I thought I could ditch the side job as a barista, and free up my time to focus on my stage endeavors. So why am I so surprised that there is a (low) two-digit number of dollars in my account that has to last me until Thursday of next week? OK, so before I start the self-abuse, and lay to waste any remnants of self-esteem, I am going to attempt to change my mindset. This will be a 'Challenge'...survivor Actor. I have a bag of rice, half a bag of pasta, peanut-butter (very low on jelly), 7-8 eggs, etc. I can walk to rehearsal...I am A-OK. AND my time at home, not being social, can be given to reflection, where maybe I can get to the root of the thoughts that create the scarcity.

Here is a starting point for me. I have a belief that money and art do not mix. They do not play well together. So I relegate money to the role of 'survival...helper.' Not uncommon for artists, or anyone, especially since our current collective economic belief is aligned with a sense of lack. What if I start to see the flow of money as a measure of my ability to make contributions? Hmm. I'm on to something. If I can drill it into my foggy subconscious head that money is just a resource that allows me to feed my passions and redistribute that energy in a productive and expansive way, I bet I would start to see some change in how I spend my time and my money. This will be my homework, and I will report my progress, and you can be my accountability partner. More to come, and I wish you all abundance as I find it in myself!

Summer Acting...Summer Living It.

Did you get that?

So it is official. I will spend my summer in Chester, MA, to do a Trilogy of plays by Arlene Hutton, the first of which is called Last Train to Nibroc. I owe the
gig to two relatively new actor-friends of mine, who threw my name into the mix when the artistic director was trying to fill the role. The lesson? You never really know how you'll land your next job, so remember to be authentically you. It's going to be a wild summer of repertory theater, can't wait to write about it. And I wish my friends long fulfilling careers in the business.

But first things first, and Othello is priority. I have the great pleasure of sharing scenes with an excellent actor a few years my senior, and who just really knows his craft. Disclosure: I sometimes feel the pangs of actor insecurity when I am working with such well-seasoned vets of the stage. Perhaps in my mind, history has given them a special-edge of confidence and knowledge of their capabilities. And I fight thoughts of, "Oh man, they are going to see right through me...catch me not listening, etc." It isn't easy going toe-to-toe with actors you admire, who seem to know how to commit to an action and a moment with clarity, precision, and confidence. And so I am constantly asking myself how I can rise to the occasion. How can I manifest those same abilities and craft that I know I have in myself? After all, I have an equal responsibility to bring my very best to the scene with all I have to offer.

Preparation (with a spin)

Have you ever heard this line from director, "I don't care what you do, just do something!"? I'll be bold and extend that thought to the work outside of rehearsal. It doesn't much matter WHAT I do, it's just how long I do it that helps build my confidence, knowledge, ability to let it all go at rehearsal. Have you ever been so intimidated by a difficult acting situation or scene, that to even look at the script outside of rehearsal causes a subtle or not so subtle anxious tremor in your stomach? I certainly have. It's what I do after that moment of stand-off that really counts. Make good friends with your text, your journal, or whatever else you do outside of the process. I have consistently found that the amount of time I spend 'working' outside of rehearsal, the greater the ability to let it all go when I hit the stage.

Best to all, and see you at the Nibroc Festival.

OHM

I thought I'd take a moment and talk about one of my favorite acting disciplines. It's not directly found in any (American, at least) acting methodologies, and yet it has been a cornerstone in my training and development for the past few years. It's been admittedly my a secret weapon. So what, in my mind, is the main ingredient to good actor training? The practice of meditation.

Meditation is easy to learn, challenging to practice, and near impossible to master. Reminds me a bit of acting, or any other form of artistry to which one dedicates themselves. Now, there is no shortage of books on techniques and traditions, but I'll simply suggest two general practices that I use as consistently as my inconsistent human nature allows.

Any seated position will do, really, and you can explore all sorts of yogic poses, and benefits of each pose on your own if interested. But, for our purposes it is simple enough to sit up straight in a chair.

The first is a meditation that focuses on the breath, bringing awareness to the inhalation and exhalation. And if (or when) your mind becomes distracted by thoughts or sensations, you bring your mind gently back to the breath. This nurtures that one-pointed, laser-like focus that you see or perhaps sense from the really great actors on stage and in film.

Another method, which I find myself doing most often is a broader type of focus, or rather an opening of focus. You just sit and allow everything to 'be as it is', or, in other words, you allow your awareness to rest, or at first, jump to whatever or wherever it feels most engaged. Sometimes you awareness will rest on a bodily sensation...a sore foot or a knot in your back. Other times, the awareness will jump to a thought or pattern playing out in your mind. You simply allow all of it to be A-OK. This type of meditation seems to facilitate an aliveness and spontaneity to whatever happens in life, and on the stage.

At first the tendency is to get lost in the thought or sensation. Each little thought has an inherent stickiness, and once a thought gets sticky, it attracts other thoughts until it becomes of whirling, uncontrollable gob of glue.

The more you just allow yourself to sit and, well, do nothing really, your mind may begin to slow down. Our mind is most like a glass of water with some type of sediment, and it's constantly being shaken, so the water remains murky, cloudy. This type of meditation brings your awareness to the shaking glass and just by watching it, the glass begins to slow down a bit, allowing the sediment to settle on the bottom. Voila! Clear and clean water...and a taste of clarity.

The personal benefits of meditation are countless, but for me, it has also has increased that ability to maintain a fullness of presence on stage. And gets me closer to experiencing that 'actor' behind the costume that is 'me'. The me before any thought has a chance to define it.

Best to all.

Finding the Light

One major sinus-infection, one threat of financial collapse, and one whirlwind family visit later, Beautiful Dreamers is now open, and I couldn't be more proud of the great cast, the exceptionally hard-working crew, and both producing partners, the Irish and Classical Theatre and the Opera Theatre of Pittsburgh. Hats off to Marty Giles, playwright and director. The feedback has been great, the show has major legs, and now we get to play it until the first of May. If you're in the area and interested you must come and check it out.

And the next show of the season, Othello, is quick on my heels. In the spirit of full disclosure I will admit that I have not quite learned the balance of preparing for one show while another is getting on it's feet. Lots of lower body extremity references here. I start rehearsing for Othello in less than 24 hours, so I have been dutifully pouring over the script whenever I have had the chance. I will play Roderigo, an unrequited suitor of Ms. Desdemona.

So that's the what's on my front-line. I wanna talk, now, just a bit about goal-setting. I have gone back and forth on goal-setting for a long time in my life, particulary because I have set goals and have not found the secret formula to keep myself focused on the desired outcomes. Repeat attempts can be discouraging. However, just a few days ago, I hit a stretch a days filled with unfocused, undirected, discouraging, blah what...energy, I suppose.. On top of that, I was feeling particularly vulnerable because of a bank error I made that put me in the red...the crimson red.

So I had a few credits for some audio books on a great site called audible.com, and downloaded a few inspirational business motivational books, which happens to be a particular weakness of mine. I was reaching for some positive and inspiring material, anywhere I could get it. So I somehow forced myself to do a little yoga, made some tea, and followed some specific directions of a Brian Tracy audio book entitled GOALS. So, I took my sore yoga'd butt to the coffee shop and, as advised, listed my top-ten short-term goals, personal, professional, and financial. And following the session, also as advised, I started writing my goals down, first thing each morning and last thing each night, WITHOUT referring to what I had previously written the day before. This allows you to find just the right wording and structure to make it powerful and real for you, and eliminate any goals to which you truly aren't committed.

As I said, I've done many goal exercises with middling success, but the simplicity and structure of these ideas started a super-charger in my mind and body. And in a few short days, I am feeling more powerful and optimistic again.

So this is my gift to you. This little exercise, and subsequent re-stating of goals. I love it. I think I'll keep it. And at some point in the not-so-distant future, when the goals come to fruition, I'll reveal them to you, and just how they came into being.

In the meantime, stay connected and stay inspired.

Heinz 57

I've been terrible lately. Two wonderful friends of mine asked why I don't post very often. I have started rehearsal for a new play, and everything else in my life goes by the way-side. The way way side. So in the spirit of balance, here I go. This will be quick and dirty. A ketch-up.

Beautiful Dreamers!!!

We are now knee deep in the rehearsal process. And I keep forgetting to bring my hip-boots. I may need them soon, because 'tech' (all the technical collaborators come together and incorporate elements into the performances) begins on Friday. 'Dreamers' is a fresh new play that celebrates the music of Pittsburgh's very own Stephen Foster, captures the spirit and growth of pre-Civil War America, and follows three strangers as they journey cross-country in search of..."Freedom. Love. Eternity." And we have our very own Marty Giles to thank for the story and direction. It's a bigger piece, so we're all doing our homework, but I am having a blast, and will enjoy playing it right on through to closing night. Did I mention I sing in this one? It's been about 4-5 years since I've had to deliver the vocal goods on stage, so it's a blessing and a challenge. And Doug Levine has arranged some frightfully difficult, yet amazing arrangements of Stephen Foster's music. It will be satisfying once we all get a handle on it.

So today, not unlike other days, I'll tromp over to the 61C cafe in squirrel hill, order a decaf and a biscotti, and run lines and scenes in my head. It often doesn't confine itself to my head, so if you find yourself there, I'm the crazy mutterer, stammering non-sensical mid-century prose in the corner. Kevin Spacey showed up in my dream the other night. (awesome transition) It reminded me of something he once said in an interview. He used to take monologues from The Iceman Cometh (pages and pages of solo words) into a restaurant or coffee shop and learn his lines there. He figured that if he could concentrate and learn them with all of the distraction of his surroundings, no matter what happened onstage, his words would be there for him.

I like that. I'm on it, Kev.

Most importantly, today celebrates the day of me little sister's birth. She is such a kick-gas young lady, and so if you know her and think of it, send her some birthday wishes!

Blessings to all and be well!

Bobbing for a Big Apple

I get very serious-minded and sometimes turn this blog into a funny little advice column for actors. And then I don't post for days because I think, in order for me to write something inspiring or helpful, I have to be inspired, powerful, 'together'. I'm so full of it sometimes that I have to laugh at myself. So I'll save some of that for my book and my Oprah interview.

Since March has been 'face your fears' month in my brain, I am very excited, and anxious to report, I am moving (back) to New York City at the end of August. I am excited because I know that this time I mean it. I am anxious because over the past few years, I have been the boy who cried "Big Apple!". And there is nothing more embarrassing than having to thumb through my rolodex of excuses when people ask me why I didn't follow through on a grand master plan. I am that guy, with that rolodex. Before I recycle these cards, I'll share a few of the valid excuses on file.

I could use a little more cash right now.
I would like to pay off all of my debt first.
I am having a really fantastic career here and want to work as much as I can, while I can.
I'm not really interested in, whatever, commercial success and recognition.

The last one is a big fat lie. But the other guys all make perfect sense, yeah? I mean, NYC is tough town. (cough) You should really have all your ducks in a row. (cough, 'excuses') It takes years of thoughtful planning to relocate(cough-'liar!')

Truth is, I am in no better position this year than I was last year, or the year before. So I am giving myself a 'no-turning-back' policy. And I refuse to give 'regret' a piggy back ride to my grave. He's kind of a heavy-set dude, anyway.

I have no idea how it's going to happen, or where to begin to plan it all out. And I am not unaware of NYC's tendency to spew the weak-minded into the Hudson. But I'm not renewing my lease. (Deep breath...and release.) Anyway, this blog could be a fun way to chronicle the tribulations and successes that await.

More on this and my progress to come. Just so you know, I have fallen in love with the amazing city that I currently call home. I have been and will be grateful for the work, love, growth, and support of many here. I'm not breaking up with you, P-Burgh. I'll still use Heinz ketchup and wave my terrible yellow washcloth when the guys kick the brown thing through the yellow wishbone. It's just something I have to do. I would love to come back and play on your stages as often as I can, or am invited to.

Wish me luck.

And today I will dance like an idiot. Thank you.

Doing Feared Things First

In a certain 'personal-productivity-obsessed' period of my life, I came across this little gem, and a few days ago I came back to the idea and decided to take it on as another fear-conquering experiment.

I'm a list guy, and within my intricately coded and cross-referenced (HA!) to do lists, I always come across what I will call 'D-listers'; those tasks that I almost vehemently resist, the ones that D-emonize me, stare me down; the ones I'm surprised even made it from my consciousness onto my list in the first place!

And, like most of us, I always act on the easier tasks first before attempting the difficult ones. I rationalize, "Once I get A, B, C done, then I will free up energy to tackle the big D;).

"And Good morning to you, Mr. Procrastinator."

But naturally it's those D-evilish tasks that usually move us forward faster, that have the greatest positive impact:
-Calling a new contact to whom you've never spoken.
-Starting on the big project (taxes) that you know will take some time and mental energy.
-Taking a walk to the yoga studio and getting a class schedule and brochure. These are just a few that, for me, require some confidence and a leap of faith.

So each morning this week, after my coffee, I've been trying to identify the action that my 'higher-self' (perhaps) is nudging me to complete. It's an easy process for me. I just think through all of things I have to do, and whatever task triggers the biggest twisting sensation in my stomach is my 'D' task. If it's a many step process, then I resolve to begin it, and give it a time limit. My default limit for working on D projects is an hour and a half.

Now here is the payoff I've discovered: If I can manage to accomplish the worst and most resistant action/project first thing in my day, then I start the day with a huge win, and it's like I just gave my inner-child permission to wreak havoc until sunset I play the guitar, I mess around with Sonnets (I'm weird), I watch 'Lost' on Netflix, or meet up with a buddy or two. Whatev, it's awesome! And generally, A,B, and C tasks are breezes in comparison.

Brian Tracy, personal development guru and teacher calls this process "Eating the Frog." (I like the image, so I apologize to the activists and to the imaginary frogs who have had suffer for my productivity.) So these past few days, I have been endeavoring to eat a frog each day. If I do nothing else, I feel satisfied that I got the one thing out of the way that that has been holding me back in some way or another. There is something to it... and let's face it...'D' is nuts. So conquer the insanity.

A post from the prodigal

So, yes, I began this blog over a year ago. And my last post was...also over a year ago. Maybe, MAYBE, I'll get into why it's been so long since I've actively contributed to my own online record. But I will say that I am proud of myself today, at this very moment. Believe it or not, I somehow managed to hold a lot of fear behind the completion of this one tiny action, this one tiny posting. So much so that an entire year has gone by, and I hadn't lifted a digit on this site. I have some theories about why this is so, but I'll save it for another time.

But I am back now, and after four interesting and challenging productions, I think I may be ready to share a thought or two again.

I am calling this the "warm-up" post. Don't laugh. I know you all have weirdo fears unfounded in your own nonsensical heads. And for some reason, just writing a few words and mousing over 'submit' seems like a fantastic baby step.

But since the hiatus, I am grateful for every moment that has passed and the friends I have made on and off the stage. And I can't wait to share a word or two about walking along this creative path. Maybe a word or two of mine will lift another as I have been lifted time and time again.

Lots of love to all,

Joel