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.

Spring Showcase

So, I teach at several LA area dance schools, and this was recital (although we called it a showcase) weekend at one of the biggest. I did two pieces for my ballet dancers. Little girls, so it was all sugar and spice. They did great and I got through it. I had SO much anxiety throughout the process. Would my dances be good enough? Would my dancers do a good job? Will I ever fit in with all of the other teachers? And the answers are yes, yes and no. I never will. I will always feel on the outside, somehow separate and not good enough. But, I'll keep trying and in the meantime will tell my dancers how beautiful they are and how proud of them I am. And that will have to be enough.

Quiet Sunday

So, I actually had the day off.  I did not have to speak to or yell at any short people under the age of 16. It was as close to Nirvana as I think that I will ever get. Don't get me wrong.  I mean really, I LOVE teaching.  I do.  I feel grounded and present and useful and in my element.  I know that I'm good at it and that the short ones like me.  It's all good.  Yet by the end of the day yesterday I was ready to kill them all.  Even the nice sweet ones.  Off with their (always talking) heads!  What I think is important about this is my ability to recognize that I had arrived at that point.  I NEVER want to be the bitter teacher, the one doing it only for a paycheck or because I can't find any other work, or because I've gotten caught in a rut.  I only want to teach and direct and choreograph for kids if I know that I am giving them what they deserve.  It's simply not ethical or moral otherwise.  It's just not.  So, I'm totally committed, but on the days when I say no kids, I mean it.  I really really mean it.

Living with friends....

So, I have a roommate these days. He's sweet and funny and prone to despair. He's been in LA almost 2 months and is not yet a star. Imagine. BUT, he has managed to destroy a car and go through his savings, so he's right on track. He's also booked a bunch of low paying gigs with impressive credit listings such as "thug" and "geeky guy" and is waiting tables. He somehow fails to see the perfection in his path....

And me, little miss isolated loner, is constantly in contact with another human being. It's crazy and refreshing and kind of lovely.

I've also managed to get the bronchial infection that is going around. Two weeks so far sounding like a cross between Brenda Vaccaro and a dying hyena. Nothing like trying to keep a room full of kids, all under age 12, in order with no voice and a hacking cough. Not fun. And funny. All at once. I'm in rehearsals for a silly little play about a messed up witch and a bunch of wayward princesses. The cast is all under the age of 12 and they are each funny and talented and special and absolutely normal...all at the same time. It keeps me grounded and happy, working with kids. Even though I'm sure one of them gave me the bronchial infection to start with.

The rest of my plan to take over my own world...not going according to the timeline.  But I'm working on it.