New Year

I started a post while visiting my family entitled patience, about trying to hold onto my sense of self and soul while with my family under stressful circumstances. I abandoned the post much like I abandoned myself while there. I had a pretty horrid trip to my family compound (yes, my sister's house is like a compound) over the holidays and am still trying to recover, both emotionally and even more importantly, spiritually. I feel a little broken, and incredibly sad, as my own inability to handle things made the trip much worse than it needed to be. This new year is not starting out with the bang that I would have liked. I'm beginning in a place of digging out, of trying to gain some equilibrium. I wanted to send out a newsletter listing a new TV role and maybe a movie. Instead I am reading other actors' newsletters and Facebook updates, feeling jealous and small. Not attractive. I am working on patience, on tolerance and on a various host of other attributes which should help me become a better person and move me beyond the paralyzing inertia that all of this self hatred engenders.

So, in that vein, I've been looking at the various ways that people re-invent in the new year, which to be real, is just another date on the calender. "100 Days of Excellence" is one that I liked, but what happens after the 100 days? Do all of the resolutions and re-arranging of one's life really elicit change? I have such rituals to start each year; a new dream board, a new journal, a quiet evening deciding what I want to accomplish. I should have listed the accomplishments of 2010, as there were many of which I am proud. I should have set the stage for even more this year. However, I skipped all of the familiar routines this year, spending New Year's Eve watching "The Good Wife", then going to sleep early. Maybe I should have stuck to the ritual, but it seems as if there must be some other thing that will set this year apart, make it really fly. Or, maybe there isn't. January 1 is simply a date on the calender. Nothing more and it is all a game, this yearly reinvention that just leads up back to ourselves, flaws and all.....

I don't really have a close for this post...which might be good. Inspiration is in an unfinished sentence, story or song....I'm leaving room open for inspiration.

Fear

I didn't know how to title this post, but the emotion that keeps catching me unawares is fear. Fear of the future, of the unknown, but even more than that, of the known. Fear of returning to the awful time that my dad was dying of pancreatic cancer. The repeating chorus in my head just keeps saying, "I can't."

My mom is currently in the hospital. She broke her leg. I should say, more accurately, that her leg broke. She did nothing traumatic to it, her femur simply snapped in half. The femur. The strongest bone in the body. That is not supposed to happen. So, when something completely inexplicable happens, where does your mind go? Mine, perhaps after lots of doomsday practice, goes to the darkest place possible. The tests, so far, indicate otherwise. A CT scan of suspicious spots came back negative, the surgeon said that the bone looks, aside from the fact of it being in two pieces rather than one, healthy. A biopsy was taken and we don't yet know the results, but all indications are that it will come back clean as well.

That said, my body is tense with dread. I am terrified that we are already at that place where all of these horrid decisions are going to have to be made. And the less mature and less generous parts of me are jealous. Jealous that my sister is there and will get the saint award for helping her through this horrid time. ( I seem to forget that I received no such award when I was there for my parents when my dad was dying. And really, who would want it? That time was awful.) I also feel sad, and left out and frustrated. I don't want my information second hand. I need to be in on the meetings and the decisions and the day to day of it all. My controlling type AAA personality can't handle the distance and the fact that she is in charge of everything. My younger sister is making the decisions that neither of us want, but that I should be making.

There is also the fact that my mom is in a lot of pain. A lot. Breaking your femur, then having it put back together with rods and screws, is incredibly painful. Even under normal circumstances, my mom does not handle pain well. She doesn't know how to communicate with doctors, saying that it is all off the chart rather than setting a base and moving from there. This eventually makes even the most patient of them ignore her. It makes us ignore her. And I think it contributed to the misdiagnosis of this injury. She went the doctor a few days prior to the critical break and he sent her home. There are few things more heartbreaking than seeing someone in unbearable pain. Especially someone that you love. My relationship with my mother is complicated and messed up, but I would never wish upon her or anyone else the type of pain that she has been tortured with over the last several days. The doctors seem to have it under control now, but it has been difficult. And talk about the guilt.

Speaking of guilt, a few days prior to our world rearranging, my sister and niece were out shopping. Mention was make of Chanukah dinner and my niece asked if there would be "a lot of presents and gilt (meaning gelt)." The response was "I don't know about presents, but yes, guilt will be there in abundance." If we only knew.....

Thanksgiving Day (plus an awesome review!!)

I've been looking forward to this day for weeks now, my first day with no commitments in MONTHS! Literally. I lasted until noon being lazy and solo then escaped to the gym. Now I'm back in my fairy cottage, contemplating the rest of the day.

Thanksgiving is a hard day for me--my former crazy and current shy and slightly neurotic selves combine, waking up to a day that sits on me, loaded with possible pitfalls. I've yet to negotiate this day well in public, and usually find I fare best staying home, away from family drama and well meaning but honestly, clueless friends. It's not a perfect solution. I often feel lonely and like a social misfit, but I find that preferable to being triggered by the layers of food and family and all. It's cowardly I admit; self preservation often can be. It usually upsets people when you say you are spending the day alone. It's almost unpatriotic, certainly not "normal." They take it personally, which it isn't. It's just my way of holding on to what keeps me sane. Routine, work and solitude.

I do take the day to recognize what has changed in my life; what keeps the crazy in check. I have a lot to be grateful for this year. I love my work: dancing, teaching, performing, choreographing! All of it is so fantastic. We got our second awesome review for The Limitations of Genetic Technology. Backstage West lists us as a critic's pick! Read it here. How awesome is that?? Two big hits in a row. I also have a few great teaching jobs. I love love love my kids at the Performing Arts Center. I am finding my way with the kids at Gabriella Charter School, finding new ways each day to reach them and inspire them. Some days are better than others, but it's definitely something to be excited about. My beautiful little muses at Centre Stage Dance both inspire me and give me more and more confidence as a choreographer. I have some truly awesome friends. Awesome. And my tiny little family is pretty cool too. There is a long way to go in making this life actually one that works, but I'm so far from where I was just a few years ago that life is mostly good.

And that's where I'm at this Thanksgiving. Grateful for what is there and hopeful that there is more.....

Global Cytodynamics: Make People Younger

Global Cytodynamics: Make People Stronger

Global Cytodynamics: Our Product Is People

More commercials for the play and our creepy corporation; GlobalCytodynamics

So, The Limitations of Genetic Technology is a hit. Audiences love the combination of comedy and tragedy, the actors are rocking it and the producers are thinking of a one week extension. Pretty heady stuff. I'm not going to get into all of the emotional ups and downs of the last week. I'm just going to share a few AWESOME commercials for the show and wish you a very restful weekend. Come see the show!! Click here for tickets!

The Limitations of Genetic Technology ROCKED opening weekend!

We opened The Limitations of Genetic Technology this weekend. The preview on Friday night was rough, but Saturday night was awesome and today, though played to a small house, was also a good show. The process of putting up a new play is always such a roller coaster. You don't know what the end game looks like, so there is this kind of blind faith that you follow as an actor; that the director and producers and creative staff KNOW what it is that they want us as actors to do or create. Many times they don't. They are exploring it right along with you. It can be extremely frustrating at times and I personally sometimes just want to be told what to do. The challenge is in hanging in there, letting yourself make mistakes and take risks and stand there naked and uncomfortable. Our awesome director, David Watkins Jr. is really good at developing new works. He makes you feel, in that crazy, uncomfortable and vulnerable place, comfortable and safe and guided. And it pays off: When you open the show and it flows from one moment to the next and the audience goes right along for the ride, well, that is simply magic.

As a final treat: Here is an industrial that is part of the play. Tempted?



Congratulations to our amazing creative team: Luis Reyes for his wonderful play, David Watkins Jr.'s inspired direction, and OffChance Productions; (Steven Calcote, Luis Reyes, and Victoria Watson, and co-produced by Reena Dutt) for producing.

THE CAST
Ben Fuller
Harmony Goodman*
Sarah Lilly*
Kyle Nudo*
Bruno Oliver*
Nancy Dobbs Owen*
Skip Pipo
Cathy Diane Tomlin*
Jeffrey Wylie
*these Actors are appearing courtesy of Actors' Equity Association

THE PRODUCTION TEAM
Production Design by David Mauer
Sound Design by Cricket Myers
Lighting Design by Matt Richter
Costume Design by Lauren Thomas
Original Music by Russel Wiener
Video Production by Steven Calcote and Butcher Bird Studios
Stage Management by Kristen Hammack
Sign Language Consulting by Jody Stevenson

Reasons to be optimistic about today's youth

So, my last several posts have been heart wrenching and difficult to write. Today's post is more fun and gives me reason to believe that all is not lost in the cultural war for our youth. (Good lord, when did I become so old??? That is, I am afraid, another post.)

The back story: I asked my fifth grade class to bring in recommendations of music that they like, that they would want to dance to. I teach them classical ballet, but am always looking for ways to make it more relevant to their lives. I want them to be engaged and excited about it.

The partial list:
The Beatles
The Doors
ACDC
Guns and Roses
Pat Benetar
Nirvana
Paramour
The Ramones
The Dead Kennedys
Kiss
Led Zeppelin
Bob Marley
Janis Joplin
Green Day
John Lennon
Kool and the Gang
Arrowsmith
Queen
Leonard Skinner (I Know A Little)
Selena
The Stokes

I have to say, I find this list (and there is more, just didn't want to bore you...) kind of refreshing. There were some Disney pop stars on it too; Lady Gaga made an appearance as well, but no Miley or Britney or ...well, you get it. There is hope for the youth of America. At least as far as music goes.

Extremes...

Wow. What a whirlwind of emotion the last week has been. With the loss of my dear friend Weiferd, my mother's 75th birthday celebration, teaching, rehearsals for my new play and the ongoing accolades for Skeleton Stories all accompanied by a nasty cold, I think that I have experienced everything that there is to experience in the last seven days.

Weiferd's funeral was so incredible. The chapel was filled with family and friends from his disparate worlds. The sermon was fiery and heartfelt and inspiring. I spoke, as did his best friend Shannon, several family members and a model and a body builder. Each aspect of his circle of friends brought together for the first time. It was amazing and tender and heartbreaking.

from our 2009 Golden Gate Bridge Shoot

I flew directly from Oakland to Las Vegas for my mom's 75th Birthday celebration and extravaganza...what a change in emotion and tone. Las Vegas is just unreal. The immense Americana of it--the excess, the cheap sexuality, the lights, the overwhelming noise and vulgarity. My niece looked up to me at one point and asked why everyone was wearing such short skirts. She had just witnessed one that barely covered what it should...

We had an incredibly overpriced but tasty meal, and saw Cirque De Soleil's Beatles Themed Show, Love. The whole trip was a surprise for my mom, and she was definitely surprised. I got to spend time with my favorite small person and even saw Mr. Obama's plane take off the next morning. Even though I would have liked to have spent more time in the Bay Area, I have to say that it was nice to move onto a celebration....

The Girls....

Adding to that the intense pressure of being in rehearsal and teaching 20 classes a week and I, for the first time since being a small child, went to bed at 8PM on Saturday night. All worn out....I love the show I'm in. I'm super proud of Skeleton Stories. Life is crazy and busy and full of extremes and I wouldn't want it any other way.

Another good bye...

My all time favorite shot

My dear friend Weiferd died this week. Weiferd has been photographing me since I was 17. He is, or was, an AMAZING dance photographer and one of the nicest people on the planet. A funny looking guy, who hung out at dance studios. It's hard to separate my personal loss from the community loss. We've worked together for my entire adult life, but he ended up shooting EVERYONE in the dance world. I could always count on Weiferd to make me laugh, to make me feel beautiful, strong, fearless. I would climb anything, freeze my butt off, hang off of anything to get a great shot for him. I will miss him so much. We last shot together just two weeks ago and when I was feeling low, I posted a pic just to remind myself that I am a strong woman with options. That is what he gave me and for that, I will be eternally grateful.

Here are a few of my favorite shots;

From our last shoot, on Santa Monica Beach

Dancing in the park....

From the famous shower series....

From the bridge shoot

and again...

There are so so so many more, but for now..

Just Because I Can

I thought I'd post a photo from a recent shoot on Santa Monica Beach. The picture makes me feel powerful and strong, something that I forget, as an actress in LA, that I am. I am a powerful person. I make things happen. I am in control of my life. And if it doesn't go the way that I want it to, I can go off and join the circus.

Tech Rehearsal

I'm sitting in the theater at the tech rehearsal for Skeleton Stories. I love this show. It is touching and lovely and ugly and heartbreaking and gross and beautiful. The cast is amazing and the design team astonishing. I'm terrified that my work in it is not up to snuff, even though everyone has said only nice things about it. Isn't that always the case though, that feeling that we all have of not belonging, of not being good enough. Of course this business in which I am completely immersed emphasizes it over and over. "We've decided to go a different way, you are not what we have in mind, you are nice looking but we want a knockout...." The list of rejection sentences is endless. I was just rejected by a manager with whom I really wanted to work. That was hard. Very. It feels much more personal when they meet you and then reject you, rather than just throwing your picture into the trash. To balance that disappointment, I was cast in a new play, The Limitations of Genetic Technology, which will also take place at Theatre of Note. David Watkins is the amazing director. I just saw his current play, Meditations, Eva Hesse, for which I also auditioned (not getting cast was another of those losses that landed) and it was gorgeous. I am really excited to work with him. The timing of this next play is so much better as well. So, for each loss there is a gain. What I need to learn is how to make the pluses mean more than the losses. It's an ongoing process. For today, I am concentrating on this amazing production and looking forward to opening night, Friday October 1.

Staying strong in the wind....

It's been a month, maybe a little more, since I set myself free from therapy. Freedom is a slightly double edged sword however. I find myself feeling both a little more adrift and simultaneously stronger. I have set a task of actively sending out only positive energy, listing 5 positive things every morning on my Facebook and Twitter updates. I had actually tried this earlier last year, but in my journal. It felt stupid and fake and insincere. I find that sending it out in a public forum is a completely different animal. It is more genuine and the positive energy is starting to return to me. People are commenting that they feel that I've shifted, or that they like reading them, or simply that it's nice to see. It makes me feel a little less alone, but also, if I'm being truly honest, feels a little less than fully honest because although the positive thoughts are real, they are only part of the story. I spend much of my time managing feeling like shit: alone and scared. I feel like calling Dr. L at least once a day, but I haven't. I am able to manage on my own. That, in and of itself, is progress. What is interesting is that as I have actively decided to focus on the positive, there is more of it to focus on: I love my teaching jobs, I've had more auditions, call-backs and jobs, and I'm meeting with a new manager today. It's a complete package deal. Good breeds good. And staying in the day, a quote from my dear friend Liz, helps too.

I was struck today by just how fragile one's sense of self can be. A careless comment from an unaware colleague and suddenly someone is reduced to helpless tears and a resurgence of long ago self hatred. I find that I too am teary and sad tonight, as I was unable to stop this hurt from happening on my watch. I need to learn how, as a teacher and choreographer--a leader really, to be empathetic without being triggered myself. (side note: the therapy speak of my writing is really another worrisome topic to be addressed in a different post!) I find it really hard. I just have to say, ignore the tears and listen to my words. The tears are mine and real, but are from a different time. My words are in the here and now and I am fully present to you. Hard though. It's hard to see the hurt that you know so well and so deeply in someone else's eyes, yet have no way to take it away.

Autonomy

The last few weeks have been life changing, in ways both big and small. Rob's death was immense. Feeling his loss through Gillian was heartbreaking. I in no way want to completely turn this to me, but any experience will have personal ripples and for my personal journey, his death was an eye opener to the imagined results of my own unfulfilled suicidal fantasies. I have spent the last 12 years in therapy, trying to find...wow...so many things: a reason for living, the reason(s) that I felt that I couldn't or shouldn't. I've looked for someone to blame, a catalyst for my pain and anguish and torture. I've cried, floated out of my body, shut down, written endless emails and journal entries dissecting my past, my parents and my mind. Along the way I made numerous discoveries. There are and were valid and heartbreaking reasons for my "craziness". Yet with the increasing knowledge, nothing really changed. I became less self destructive. I usually eat on a regular basis now. I have stopped crashing cars and taking sleeping pills and cutting and burning.....I've learned to handle myself in a way that will keep me on the planet. But internally, nothing was different. I was increasingly able, perhaps simply as a result of growing older, to cope, however nothing cured me of the desire to go until now. I stayed alive because I was supposed to. Looking into Jocelyn and Gillian's shocked and shattered eyes made me realize that with all of the release that I hoped to experience myself, I would have put that look into my sister's eyes. That single act would have been unforgivable. What is interesting is that I've two friends who committed suicide and neither of those tragedies (and they were absolutely tragedies) gave me this autonomy. It was this unexpected, accidental death that, along with many many other changes in my life, made me finally say, you know what? Living just might be ok. I don't need a therapist to remind me of that fact. I can find something every day to live for, to strive for and to be proud of. I have the ability to put those nasty voices in the corner. I've yet to shut them up, but I can let them chatter on while I do what needs to be done. That feels like freedom to me. It is a new and glorious opening. And for the first time in years, I'm going to do it alone.

Balance...

There is this thing...this balance between excitement and control, between hope and lack of attachment. I want these various jobs that I audition for so badly, but everyone knows that showing how much you want and hope and pray for (or even, God forbid, NEED) a job is an instant job killer. I had two call-backs last week, one for a commercial and one for a play. I am still holding out hope, as I really want them both. It can still happen but each moment that passes dims the possibility just a little. I was so excited to be called back. I felt that in each case I showed up and did good work, though I can always think of what I should of or could of or might have done. There is this initial rush and then it's over and the only thing left to do is wait. Each minute that goes by feels like a little ding. My inner voices start to berate me: you didn't study the script enough, you are too scrawny, you're too fat (my inner voices get equal time), you were boring, you were too pushy, you didn't cry enough in the emotional scenes, you were too quick to tear up. This detail goes on for a while, and then it becomes more over-reaching; you will never book another job again, you are in the wrong business, you basically just suck. All of this can get a girl down. Right? But, there is one thing that I am finally starting to learn. Fulfillment can come from many different sources. As I sat staring at the phone today (Ok, I wasn't sitting, I was on the elliptical, but still....) I received an email telling me that I am being honored by the Art of Elysium for my contributions as a volunteer in the theater department. That email made me cry tears of joy. I love the work that I do with AOE, and to get acknowledged for it, wow. What a gift. So, thank you for that. For giving me back some balance and a reminder that I do this work, all of it, for love. (I still want the jobs...just sayin')

Loss

My dearest friend lost her little brother today. I know that in our adulthood, "little" brother or "little" sister is not how we usually refer to our younger siblings, but there is this part inside that always sees them in that light; the little pest following you around. The same little pest that you would risk your own life to defend or save or ... well, when push comes to shove, truly nothing is more precious than your little brother or sister. So, my heart breaks for my friend and her family, who lost their precious child much too soon.

What matters.

It's been a crazy week. I broke my toe, which slowed me down for a day. I then got the stomach flu Friday night and wow, that was a little meaner, but I still rocked two auditions over the weekend, did a photo shoot, styled another one and went on a date....it's amazing what you can do when you put your mind to it. I met someone who started exercising the day after having his prostate removed. Mind over matter. It's all mind over matter. That is what counts.

Mixed Messages...

OMG. I put up a picture, wrote a short bio and description and I'm getting all of these emails and winks and lists and such. I still haven't paid the piper, so I have no way to access this rich assortment of male admiration but...you know. It does sort of feel good in a way. It is nice to realize that people think you are attractive. I mean, especially in the industry in which I reside. I rarely feel that positive energy coming my way. Yet, I am finding it strangely annoying in a way. I remember a conversation I had with a friend a while back. We were talking about putting out the right energy to attract people or men or whatever. I realize that, though I may dress nicely and want people to look at me, when they actually do my reaction is "WTF are you looking at?????" That is the reaction that I am having at this moment to the multitude of winks and emails filling up my inbox. Wow, WTF and go away. Slightly mixed messages, don't you think??

Match dot com

So, in a moment of weakness, I signed up for Match.com. I didn't pay anything. They simply send me a menu of men each night. I'm not sure, since I sent them no money, if I'm actually allowed to partake of this buffet or not. I would guess not. It's kind of hilarious, right? I mean, "here are your fresh picks for this evening mademoiselle. What do you think?" This one is cute but ABSOLUTELY wants children. This one is spiritual but not religious. This one is conservative and Christian (yet somehow being sent to me, an agnostic progressive....hmmmm). I'm sure each is convinced that they are unique and special people yet they all kind of look the same. They all look the same, just like I'm sure the myriad of headshots that we all slave over look the same to casting directors or the thousands of look books that boutique owners get in the mail or their in-boxes look the same. Same for scripts, novels, essays, blog entries or or or or or or....It's all the same. How do we reconcile this state of affairs with the reality that we are individuals and we all want something, which may look alike, but will feel absolutely mind blowing and original.....

First Booking for my new headshots!!

I am ridiculously happy that my new headshots booked their first job. It's a little funny that as an actor all you need for life to be ok is to hear those two little words; you're booked. You are the exact same person that you were before you heard the words, but you hear them and suddenly your life choice, for the moment, is validated. Seriously, we are ALWAYS unemployed. Gigging is not employment. Each time I get a check, it holds the excitement of the first check ever and the fear that it will be the last. For now, I'll just enjoy it and leave the despair for after the job is over.

Political Hypocrisy

I am furious with the current campaigns being waged in California for governor and for the Senate. Meg Whitman, the Republican candidate for governor, is buying the seat, spending 91 million of her own dollars. Yes, 91 million dollars. She is running as a fiscal conservative but what does her bottomless spending show? Someone who has absolutely no ability to budget or conserve and is basically amazingly and completely self serving. I understand that it is her money, she is not receiving public funds, yet the waste is still criminal. I would like to see, in my Utopian universe, a way that candidates can use the millions upon millions of dollars that they spend bashing each other in the media to do good. How about donating 2 million dollars to the LAUSD and making a few speeches at the ceremony. How about donating 10 million to create a health care pool for under served populations and making a few speeches there. The possibilities are endless and the press and media sources could help by making sure that the donations are publicized and by giving the candidates time and coverage to make it worth it. We could make it a public policy; for every dollar spent on a TV ad or newspaper ad, the same dollar would have to be donated to a worthy cause. It might help us out of this catastrophic financial crisis that we are in and give us candidates who want to govern and do good, rather than feed their egos by buying a kingdom.

Working it out....

Sometimes the universe takes whatever it is you think you need, and holds it....just out of reach. I think that it is supposed to teach you patience or give you wisdom, but I often feel that fate or God or karma is just sitting up there laughing hysterically at my human foibles. I mean seriously. This time it's financial, but sometimes it's the role that is given to your best friend or the job that is canceled at the last minute or the vacation that gets canceled because you had to book the year's only job on the one day that you had booked out. I mean, really??? So, I'm just trying to breathe and take it one moment at a time. Without, you know, tying myself in knots....RIGHT!!!

Father's Day

Father's Day. I am taking the day off, ostensibly to take care of myself and to prepare for the crazy week ahead (I think I'm working about 90 hours this coming week. Are there even 90 hours in a week???). What I've realized as I've cried through the day is that I needed to take today to mourn something....I miss my dad. I somehow feel that he holds the answers to my eternal sadness. He knows why I can't find the success that I am constantly working towards but never achieving. He knows what is wrong with me and why. I don't know. It's possible I also just miss him. Unlike my mom (who I love but have a hard time with in the day to day), I actually liked him. He was smart and funny and energetic and fucking nuts. I also hated him in a way that I don't hate my mother. His cruelty, unlike hers, doesn't seem to have an excuse for being. I can see where she was wronged and beaten down and frustrated into bitterness. He had everything handed to him. Everything. To not be gracious and generous with that is inexcusable. That said, today I just miss my dad. The sense of security that having one in the world gives you. I remember the morning of 9/11 and my first thought was that if my dad was still alive this sort of horror wouldn't have happened. Silly, I know, but every so often I feel that stronger than I could have ever imagined....
So, that is today.
n

Sunday morning. I'm up, trying to brush the sleep from my brain. I had a dream in which I ended up as an editorial cartoon and the Governor and two of his side kicks met up with me and my agent. It was odd. She said, yay, you'll get some IMDB credit for this. What a silly business. I'm playing with the idea of political action and what that looks like coming from an actor/dancer/ballet teacher vs what it looks like coming from a lawyer or doctor or academic. Of course in Hollywood you have to rate yourself as an actor. I'm not even D list, so does that make anything that I say speaking from that platform less worthy? I don't know. I feel that there is a lot to say. I'm currently obsessed with hypocrisy in government. Hypocrisy combined with citizen blindness. For example: The Republican party stated straight up that their goal, after losing the 2008 presidential election, was to block President Obama at every turn. To make his a failed presidency. They stated it from the start, yet we as a people seem to be surprised that bi-partisanship doesn't seem to be happening, that he can't seem to get anything done. The Republican National Committee, chaired by Michael Steele, made destroying this president it's number one priority, THE COUNTRY BE DAMNED. The Democrats are just as bad. Clearly they need to wake up and step up. And deal with the actual situation at hand. Do the job for which they were elected.

This particular rant seems to have no place to go. Which seems to be the case for much political discourse. We talk and talk and nothing seems to change.

Journalism or Art. Retouched Photos.....

I am starting a new section of my newsletter. A pseudo “letter to the editor”. A forum for me to pontificate or educate or simply sound off! I will post an intro on my newsletter, and then the entire letter here. This month I would like to address a program that was aired by CNN’S Christiane Amanpour examining the proposed French law which would required any retouched photo to be labeled as such. The conversation that followed was between Ms. Amanpour, fashion designer Diane Von Furstenberg and Joe Zee of Elle Magazine. The premise made is that by not labeling photos as either true to life or retouched, the media is furthering the ideal of an unattainable perfection thereby fostering eating disorders and low self esteem among young people. There were all of the standard arguments: using incredibly thin models makes ‘real’ women feel ugly and makes them strive for an “unattainable” ideal, people don’t understand that photos are retouched therefore we are sending out a bad message that all women should look like these pictures, that images of this kind cause eating disorders. On the face of it, such a law sounds admirable and noble and I should applaud such an effort to control the rampant superficiality of the fashion media.

In contrast, I thought that many important points were left out of the conversation, which made me angry on many levels. First, let me state that I feel I have standing to write on this issue from many sides. I am in front of the camera and on-stage. I come from the world of ballet, which has, if possible, ideals even more “unattainable” than those of fashion, and I have spent many (most of my) years fighting disordered eating and messed up body image, a struggle which actually began long before I understood what the ideals in my chosen industries are. I also teach and know that I have a deep personal responsibility and commitment to keeping things real and honest with and for my students.

I do not support the hiring of underage or ACTUALLY ill models. I do not support the use of drugs, diuretics, insane diets or emotional abuse to bring people into line with the aesthetics of the industry. I DO support the work currently being done to increase the acceptance of all body types in both fashion and Hollywood and wish that such change would come about faster. What I do not accept is the premise that models are not real people. Being tall and thin does not automatically make you anorexic, a term that is thrown around with little knowledge. There are absolutely girls and women in the industry who are suffering terribly. Designers who promote this by hiring sick and malnourished girls should not do so. Sample sizes should not be 00. However, anorexia and other related eating disorders have many causes and placing the blame on the media is easy but does nothing to address the much deeper issues that most of these people (for eating disorders do not only affect the female half of the population) deal with on a daily basis. When discussing fashion, Hollywood, and the media in general, we like to throw around the term “real women” a lot. Models and actors actually are human beings. They are neither robots nor do they arrive from a different planet. Do I think that there should be room for more than one standard of beauty in the industry? Absolutely, but obesity is a much much greater problem in American society than anorexia, yet this entire discussion seems to leave that half of the equation out in the cold completely.

Now, onto my specific problem with the proposed law. There is a huge difference between Fashion photography and news photography. Fashion is, beyond it’s place in the business world, an art form. Fashion photography is about making beautiful, in the eye of the artist, pictures. It has no claim on being “real”. There is a real and powerful business behind the clothes and accessories, the make-up and perfume and creative geniuses who decide what shade of blue is in vogue each season. But, beyond that is ART. Sometimes it’s beautiful, sometimes hideous but always it is someone’s vision of an idealized scene. To propose that that artistic vision be slapped with a warning label about retouching is a knee jerk reaction to an incredibly complex problem. We don’t require painters to include a caveat saying that the image created with their oil is not realistic.

There is a distinction that I would like to make here, one between fashion photography and journalism. There are grey areas. Are actors who are posing for fashion as themselves models or personalities who should be represented realistically? Should journalists be represented flaws and all. For all of Ms. Amanpour’s questions about retouching, her own portrait on her CNN and Facebook pages appears to have had significant retouching.

People need to take personal responsibility. You can slap as many warning labels on things as you want but people are going to believe what they want to. We know that smoking is bad for you, that eating junk food makes you obese, that not everyone can look like a model. Cindy Crawford famously stated once that even she doesn’t look like “Cindy Crawford, supermodel” when she is at home. Fashion photography is an art form, like painting or making movies or recording a song. We manipulate it to tell a story. This discussion should be taking place not in regards to an art form but in regards to news and what should be trusted as fact. Fashion is not that arena. The proposed law is simply a bright band-aid placed on the wrong injury, not an actual part of the cure.