EndEnd of the Year Round up.
A bunch is going on with me at the close of the year so I thought I’d wrap it up here.
Everyone has been asking me about the cuts at NPR, and wondering if it affects me. Yes and no. I know a lot of good people who got hurt by the cuts at NPR, my “Obi Wan” Doug Mitchell, the staff of New and Notes and a couple other people who have really helped me in this journey through radio have felt the pinch. They are so brilliant at what they do, it sadness me that NPR couldn’t find a way to keep their shows and programs running. Knowing all of these people, I can comfortably say, this will not stop them. It might actually be a blessing. Freeing them to do bigger and bolder projects.
As for me, I’m not affiliated with NPR. My show is funded by CPB, which is the big boss for all Public Broadcasting. What it might affect is my ability in the future to make shows. My development deal runs through 09’, if I am funded in the future by CPB it will depend on a few things, the national economy being one of them. I’m not worried. I’m going to make the best damn show possible and make what I bring to the table essential to the future of public broadcasting. And if they don’t pick up the show, someone else will. The future is bright because the big guy upstairs told me to do the work and let him handle the rest. I can do that.
I have been missing the stage like crazy. With all of the other stuff that’s going on; projects I can talk about (radio) and projects I can’t (shshshsh), I been working my butt off. But no theatre time. It’s driving me a little nutty. I need to get on stage, I need to write for the stage; the feeling I get from both of them is unparalleled. I don’t feel like my theatre career has stalled, but I also don’t think it’s moving at the pace I’d like. But I guess the more important thing is that I can’t control that, what I can control is the work. That sounds clinical when the truth is for me it’s not about making work to advance a career path. It’s about making work because I have a story to tell, something to say. It’s about being in love with the stage, the hot lights, the conversation between me and the audience. I can’t live without it. And so I’m in the midst of working on a new theatre piece. Crumbs.
I’m sure I’ll be writing more about the play here, but in this post I won’t talk about the story itself. This will be the first piece that I’m working with a composer on. It’s a poetical that will use music in a way I haven’t in the past. I’m excited to have a collaborator and though we have not officially decided to work together we are moving in that direction. Very exciting for me, to have someone that can score behind my words because I hear it in my head musically, but mostly I have had to settle for it without music. Irritating. I can’t wait to see and hear how the piece shakes out.
I'm applying for a bunch of fellowships and residencies across the country. I'm excited about the prospects. These things though come and go. You put together a package and then you forget about it. Pray that someone reads it, and gets the work you are looking to do. So we'll see, deep down, I feel like a few of these fellowships are mine. I don't know why but on some of the stuff i submit for, I know before I send off the package that I'm going to get it. Two of them specifically I can feel it. Let's hope that feeling is true.
2008 has been a very good year for me. So personally I feel like things are moving in the right direction. Still it’s hard to be too happy when the economy is falling apart and people all over the country are struggling to pay bills and feed families. The world on a whole is in a tough-tough spot. In the New Year, I of course would like to professionally move forward, but more importantly with all the stuff going on, I want to be apart of the solution. It may be a corny sentiment, but we’ve tried all the other stuff and nothing seems to be working. Personally, I’m going to try and bring what little light I have, I want to be the open palm instead of the closed fist. I’m so tired of the closed fist. So is the rest of the world. May we all wake in a better world tomorrow.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Back in the Saddle
It’s been a few months since I’ve updated this blog. I promise for the five people who read this it that I will not disappear that long again in the future. So what’s been up with me? A ton. In the last couple months I’ve been to NY, Detroit, Chicago, LA, Ashland, Oregon and Atlanta. Mostly for the radio show but also for some theater stuff.
I’ve been working on the newest episode of State of the Re:UNION: Motor City Rebound. It’s been a while since I put together an episode, actually close to a year ago, so I’d forgotten how intense of a process it can be. Fortunately I have an excellent team. My advisors helped me find the producer of the show Zak Rosen, and I got my old producer Taki Telonidis to be the senior advisor of the show for this episode and hopefully for the entire development process. I think it’s important that Taki stay involved with the program since we made the pilot together. He took all my ideas and gave them shape. I think the concept could stand on it’s own without either Taki or I, I believe together we can put our personal stamp on the program and create something really special. Along with Zak, Willie Evans Jr (the incredible beatmaker)and my business partner, Ian, I think we have a good team.
That however does not mean that everything is easy. Creating an episode is like giving birth. It is giving birth, not the physical pain of course, but the mental strain, the sleepless nights, the joy of seeing the baby for the first time, all of it is the same. Zak and I started working on story ideas in August. Zak had an idea of the story he wanted to tell, I had a different take. We went back and forth for a while, but once I got on the ground in Detroit, I could see the story, and it was much closer to Zak’s vision then mine. Taki listened to our ideas gave us some insight, Ian was excellent logistical support. We did all the field recording in Detroit for about three weeks total. For the two weeks we edited the interviews did a lot of writing, and a lot of polish, and I can finally say it’s done.
Prior to going to Detroit, I was really nervous about what kind of show I’d be creating. I wanted to create something that uplifted people but all I heard about Detroit was negative. I’m writing this two weeks since completing the episode, and still the only things I hear in the news or online are negatives. What’s striking to me is that when I went to Detroit, I found a lot of positives. In the vast space between what you’d normally expect in a city and what they actually have in Detroit, I found that the people are making it happen on their own. They aren’t waiting for the government or outsiders to handle it and save them. Instead they’ve started finding ways to get around the road blocks and create a new model for how a city can work. It’s not perfect. People are hurting, the economy is in shambles, the political structure is struggling and yet when I left the “D” I felt hopeful.
Right before our eyes the world is changing. America as a whole is being challenged in a way it hasn’t in decades. What Detroit taught me, was that beyond all of that are the people. The foundation of this republic and that foundation, while battered and bruised is what will see us through.
If you get a chance check out the episode here:
http://www.stateofthereunion.com/podcasts/motorcityrebound.mp3
I’ve been working on the newest episode of State of the Re:UNION: Motor City Rebound. It’s been a while since I put together an episode, actually close to a year ago, so I’d forgotten how intense of a process it can be. Fortunately I have an excellent team. My advisors helped me find the producer of the show Zak Rosen, and I got my old producer Taki Telonidis to be the senior advisor of the show for this episode and hopefully for the entire development process. I think it’s important that Taki stay involved with the program since we made the pilot together. He took all my ideas and gave them shape. I think the concept could stand on it’s own without either Taki or I, I believe together we can put our personal stamp on the program and create something really special. Along with Zak, Willie Evans Jr (the incredible beatmaker)and my business partner, Ian, I think we have a good team.
That however does not mean that everything is easy. Creating an episode is like giving birth. It is giving birth, not the physical pain of course, but the mental strain, the sleepless nights, the joy of seeing the baby for the first time, all of it is the same. Zak and I started working on story ideas in August. Zak had an idea of the story he wanted to tell, I had a different take. We went back and forth for a while, but once I got on the ground in Detroit, I could see the story, and it was much closer to Zak’s vision then mine. Taki listened to our ideas gave us some insight, Ian was excellent logistical support. We did all the field recording in Detroit for about three weeks total. For the two weeks we edited the interviews did a lot of writing, and a lot of polish, and I can finally say it’s done.
Prior to going to Detroit, I was really nervous about what kind of show I’d be creating. I wanted to create something that uplifted people but all I heard about Detroit was negative. I’m writing this two weeks since completing the episode, and still the only things I hear in the news or online are negatives. What’s striking to me is that when I went to Detroit, I found a lot of positives. In the vast space between what you’d normally expect in a city and what they actually have in Detroit, I found that the people are making it happen on their own. They aren’t waiting for the government or outsiders to handle it and save them. Instead they’ve started finding ways to get around the road blocks and create a new model for how a city can work. It’s not perfect. People are hurting, the economy is in shambles, the political structure is struggling and yet when I left the “D” I felt hopeful.
Right before our eyes the world is changing. America as a whole is being challenged in a way it hasn’t in decades. What Detroit taught me, was that beyond all of that are the people. The foundation of this republic and that foundation, while battered and bruised is what will see us through.
If you get a chance check out the episode here:
http://www.stateofthereunion.com/podcasts/motorcityrebound.mp3
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Pro-Life
Dear Blog readers. First forgive me for taking so long to update this blog. In the near future you will be sick of reading all the post I’ll be putting up. Big things happening, and I’ve got a ton to talk about. But today it doesn’t feel appropriate. I, like most of the nation have spent the last couple weeks engrossed with politics, the conventions, the protest, the speeches, the candidates… After a while it all becomes white noise blaring in the background of life. Today that white noise seemed to roar a little louder in my ear then normal.
I’m working on an hour long radio documentary about violence in my home town Jacksonville Florida. My goal is to work from the bottom up. To talk to the people who experience the violence first hand, and try and understand where it comes from. Most of Jacksonville is a pretty peaceful place. But one area of town the Eastside/Springfield and parts of the Northside are plagued with violence. These parts of town are economically depressed and primarily African-American. As the rest of the city marches to the beat of the Florida sun, young people are dieing and killing each other.
If you read this blog at all, or know my work then you know I’ve got some roots in this community from my work at the Sanctuary on 8th street. I’ve been volunteering/working there for three years now, and I have a real connection with the kids there. As apart of the series I’m working on, I went back to the Sanctuary to interview one of the boys, Biko. Biko is one of the brightest kids I know. He’s got this big open smile, and always willing to help out. At 16, Biko has been shot at more then four times and hit twice. When we sat down to talk, Biko’s leg was bandaged from a gun shot wound to his knee. He was much skinnier then I’d last seen and it was obvious that the whole incident weighed heavy on him. But he still had a big smile and hug for me.
When Biko got shot this time, he was at a store talking to a friend, a car rolled by and shot him in the leg. He didn’t know who the shooter was, and no one knows for sure why he was shot. Most assume it was mistaken identity. Image that, you are minding your business, getting a soda from the store, and someone shoots you in the leg. What’s ironic about Biko’s existence is that he’s an immigrant from Africa. He moved with his family from the Congo to America to escape the wars. With the sound of gun shots breaking the silence of the night, I can’t help but wonder what the differences there are between the war he is currently fighting, and the wars his parents tried to protect him from. This is Biko’s reality. It’s not a movie. It’s not made up, it’s life and death every day in a way most of us can’t image.
Through the interview Biko keeps smiling. When I ask him where he will be in five years he says, without a smile, lowering his voice, “Probably dead… or in jail” There is such certainty in his words, the type of certainty that a grown man has from the hard experiences of life. We talked about life on the street, police harassment, having no opportunities, no hope. When we were done with the interview I struggled to not weep. I know that must sound melodramatic, but the truth is at 16 and two bullet wounds already, what kind of life is waiting for him outside that door? Most of you will never know Biko, so you will have to take it from me. He’s the type of kid that lights up any room he’s in. He could be a computer technician, a programmer, a mathematician, a physicist, but most likely he won’t. And yes there are people who can rise up from their bootstraps, but I’d argue that most people who do have much more support then he does.
I watched Biko limp away on crutches, acting like it’s all going to be okay, like what he just said was about someone else and not him. But it’s not. With five siblings, a dead father, an unemployed mother, and a neighborhood in the on the verge of death, where can he go?
It was on my drive home when that the white noise started roaring in my ears. Someone on the radio was talking about the Christian Right, and their Pro-life stand, and it infuriated me. It infuriates me because these same people who scream pro-life will do nothing about the lives being lost in ghettos of America. They stand in their Ivory Churches and protest the loss of life when it’s in the form of an abortion, but turn a blind eye to children like Biko. Is he not sufficient for God’s grace? Does the fact that he is in the ghetto disqualify him from receiving help with the same vigor with which they protest abortion? Of course not all on the Christian Right fall into this category. There are people who come into the ghetto’s everyday and give their heart, but for change to happen Pastors like Rick Warren, James Dobson, TD Jakes, and John Hagee need to mobilize their congregations for the cause of children like Biko, the same way they mobilize them for other causes.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not in any way taking sides on the issue of Abortion, I’m just asking why the need to defend life doesn’t extend to the life already here. Why it is acceptable to have a rash of violence where young people are the victims? What have they done that makes it okay for them to die? I think people tend to think that people living in poverty are there because they deserve it. I do not agree with that concept but I won’t argue the point, what I will argue is if that is true, do their kids deserve it?
Please don’t point to the government programs. They obviously don’t work, or there would be no need to write this post. I think the Christian Right needs to ask themselves What would Jesus do? I don’t identify myself with that group. I’m only asking them the same questions I’ve asked myself. I am not perfect, I don’t profess to have a direct line with God, or that I am his messenger and know his will. But when I ask myself the question that the Christian Right has begged us to ask, the answer I come up with is this: He’d help the poor. He’d help the children. He’d try to save people without judgment in his heart, because it’s the right thing to do.
I’m working on an hour long radio documentary about violence in my home town Jacksonville Florida. My goal is to work from the bottom up. To talk to the people who experience the violence first hand, and try and understand where it comes from. Most of Jacksonville is a pretty peaceful place. But one area of town the Eastside/Springfield and parts of the Northside are plagued with violence. These parts of town are economically depressed and primarily African-American. As the rest of the city marches to the beat of the Florida sun, young people are dieing and killing each other.
If you read this blog at all, or know my work then you know I’ve got some roots in this community from my work at the Sanctuary on 8th street. I’ve been volunteering/working there for three years now, and I have a real connection with the kids there. As apart of the series I’m working on, I went back to the Sanctuary to interview one of the boys, Biko. Biko is one of the brightest kids I know. He’s got this big open smile, and always willing to help out. At 16, Biko has been shot at more then four times and hit twice. When we sat down to talk, Biko’s leg was bandaged from a gun shot wound to his knee. He was much skinnier then I’d last seen and it was obvious that the whole incident weighed heavy on him. But he still had a big smile and hug for me.
When Biko got shot this time, he was at a store talking to a friend, a car rolled by and shot him in the leg. He didn’t know who the shooter was, and no one knows for sure why he was shot. Most assume it was mistaken identity. Image that, you are minding your business, getting a soda from the store, and someone shoots you in the leg. What’s ironic about Biko’s existence is that he’s an immigrant from Africa. He moved with his family from the Congo to America to escape the wars. With the sound of gun shots breaking the silence of the night, I can’t help but wonder what the differences there are between the war he is currently fighting, and the wars his parents tried to protect him from. This is Biko’s reality. It’s not a movie. It’s not made up, it’s life and death every day in a way most of us can’t image.
Through the interview Biko keeps smiling. When I ask him where he will be in five years he says, without a smile, lowering his voice, “Probably dead… or in jail” There is such certainty in his words, the type of certainty that a grown man has from the hard experiences of life. We talked about life on the street, police harassment, having no opportunities, no hope. When we were done with the interview I struggled to not weep. I know that must sound melodramatic, but the truth is at 16 and two bullet wounds already, what kind of life is waiting for him outside that door? Most of you will never know Biko, so you will have to take it from me. He’s the type of kid that lights up any room he’s in. He could be a computer technician, a programmer, a mathematician, a physicist, but most likely he won’t. And yes there are people who can rise up from their bootstraps, but I’d argue that most people who do have much more support then he does.
I watched Biko limp away on crutches, acting like it’s all going to be okay, like what he just said was about someone else and not him. But it’s not. With five siblings, a dead father, an unemployed mother, and a neighborhood in the on the verge of death, where can he go?
It was on my drive home when that the white noise started roaring in my ears. Someone on the radio was talking about the Christian Right, and their Pro-life stand, and it infuriated me. It infuriates me because these same people who scream pro-life will do nothing about the lives being lost in ghettos of America. They stand in their Ivory Churches and protest the loss of life when it’s in the form of an abortion, but turn a blind eye to children like Biko. Is he not sufficient for God’s grace? Does the fact that he is in the ghetto disqualify him from receiving help with the same vigor with which they protest abortion? Of course not all on the Christian Right fall into this category. There are people who come into the ghetto’s everyday and give their heart, but for change to happen Pastors like Rick Warren, James Dobson, TD Jakes, and John Hagee need to mobilize their congregations for the cause of children like Biko, the same way they mobilize them for other causes.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not in any way taking sides on the issue of Abortion, I’m just asking why the need to defend life doesn’t extend to the life already here. Why it is acceptable to have a rash of violence where young people are the victims? What have they done that makes it okay for them to die? I think people tend to think that people living in poverty are there because they deserve it. I do not agree with that concept but I won’t argue the point, what I will argue is if that is true, do their kids deserve it?
Please don’t point to the government programs. They obviously don’t work, or there would be no need to write this post. I think the Christian Right needs to ask themselves What would Jesus do? I don’t identify myself with that group. I’m only asking them the same questions I’ve asked myself. I am not perfect, I don’t profess to have a direct line with God, or that I am his messenger and know his will. But when I ask myself the question that the Christian Right has begged us to ask, the answer I come up with is this: He’d help the poor. He’d help the children. He’d try to save people without judgment in his heart, because it’s the right thing to do.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Repackaging Racism
Jesse Helms died recently, and the press and politicians have been clamoring to pat him on the back. I’ve heard things like he, “He stood for something” and that he was a hard charging politician that stood for something.
What they don’t say is that he stood for racism. He stood for me not being equal to other folks. He blocked every civil rights bill that came before him, and had nothing but disgust for the people fighting for the right to be equal.
The flags are flying at half mass in his home state. I can’t help but wonder what the reaction would be if say, Louis Farrakhan had died and black politicians made similar comments about him?
Sometimes America makes me sad. I’m sad that politicians praise an outwardly racist man, and can’t deal with the truth. I’m sad for all the black people in his state that was supposedly represented by this man in the Senate. I’m sad for Jesse Helms, sad that his entire life, he had an evil cancer of hate in his heart. I’m sad that another human being, no matter how much he may have disliked me has passed.
I will not dance on his grave, but I will also not pretend he was something other then what he was; a small man of huge limitations, that allowed his hate to run his life. May God have mercy on his soul and may he have mercy on mine as well.
What they don’t say is that he stood for racism. He stood for me not being equal to other folks. He blocked every civil rights bill that came before him, and had nothing but disgust for the people fighting for the right to be equal.
The flags are flying at half mass in his home state. I can’t help but wonder what the reaction would be if say, Louis Farrakhan had died and black politicians made similar comments about him?
Sometimes America makes me sad. I’m sad that politicians praise an outwardly racist man, and can’t deal with the truth. I’m sad for all the black people in his state that was supposedly represented by this man in the Senate. I’m sad for Jesse Helms, sad that his entire life, he had an evil cancer of hate in his heart. I’m sad that another human being, no matter how much he may have disliked me has passed.
I will not dance on his grave, but I will also not pretend he was something other then what he was; a small man of huge limitations, that allowed his hate to run his life. May God have mercy on his soul and may he have mercy on mine as well.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
State of the Re:UNION Coming to a Public Radio Station near you!
So this is it. For those of you who never heard of the Public Radio Talent Quest, State of the Re:UNION, or of Al Letson, here’s a quick primer. My name is Al Letson, I’m a playwright, performance poet, actor, director, and a few other titles, I won’t bore you with. I’ve been working as an artist professionally for about 10 years, doing any gig that can pay the bills. I started as a Slam Poet, and still very much consider myself one, even though I don’t actually slam anymore. A year ago (April 07), I was looking up the results of American Idol, which I don’t even watch, but I was curious for some strange reason. When I googled American Idol something entitled Public Radio’s American Idol popped up. I click on the link and found out that the Corporation for Public Broadcasting (CPB) was looking for new host, and new ideas. I love Public Radio, and figured what the hell.
I entered the contest with 1400 other folks, and with nine other contestants was chosen as a semi finalist. The ten of us, had to go through some pretty strenuous tasks to get to the finish line, along the way, the contestants got pared down to three, and the top three of us, where given funding to make a pilot. Here is where the plot thickens. CPB created two contests to find host: Public Radio Talent Quest run but The Public Radio Xchange (PRX), and Launch productions. I don’t know much about LAUNCH. The way it was described to me is that PRX took the grassroots approach, whereas LAUNCH took the top down model and contacted people who were in Media/celebrities of a sort to have their own shows. Each contest was given funding to create three pilots, and those pilots would vie for their own show. Out of the six, the conventional wisdom was that CPB would pick two.
After a year of competing and a whole lot of waiting, CPB informed me that my show State of the Re:UNION, was chosen as one of the winners. They’d decided to award three shows total. Two from PRX, mine and Glynn Washington’s Snap Judgment, and one from LAUNCH, The Promise Land with host Majora Carter (whom I have not met, but have been a huge fan of for years).
What does all this mean? In the history of Public Broadcasting State of the Re:Union will be one of the first shows ever given this opportunity. For the next year CPB will allow me to develop the program, find out what works, get my footing as a host, and make some killer shows. At the end of that process, you’ll be hearing the show on your public radio station next to Public Radio giants like Ira Glass and Garrison Keillor. I’m honored to have this opportunity. I’d like to give thank you’s in this blog, but there are too many to name. Rest assured if you’ve helped on this journey, you will be personally hearing from me. The staff of SOTRU, and myself will be posting on this blog to from time to time to give you an inside scoop on the progress of the show. It should be a wild and fun ride, so fasten your seatbelt, adjust your seatbacks to full upright position and prepare for take off.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
A match made in Heaven
Usually I don’t post silly things on my blog. My brother Jamel tells me I’m a bore and corny-as-hell cause I’m not that serious in real life. He might be right. I’ll be posting some other news here, FINALLY today or tomorrow or so, BUT today I was trolling around the internet, and I found a video of my girlfriend on line professing her love for me…… Okay maybe she’s not my girlfriend….. And maybe she’s not professing her love for me specifically… BUT it’s a coded message. You just gotta know how to read it!
See! She loves me. Don't hate congratulate.
See! She loves me. Don't hate congratulate.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
A love song for my mother
A love song for my mother.
My mom will tell you I never write about her and I guess I don’t. We’ve had difficulties in our relationship. Mostly because we are too much a like, stubborn, opinionated, fire-in-belly, and not shy to show it. Two people like that always seem to bump heads. I love my mother. Deeply. She loves me deeply. But we always find away to not connect the dots between us. There is no big reveal here. She was, is, and always will be, a great parent. I have friends with mothers who are the exact opposite, and I thank God for my mother.
Lately I’ve found a way to keep us centered. I don’t argue with her about things that she says that I disagree with. I want to, but sometimes the best thing you can do is to shut up. I guess that was the problem when I was younger. I always wanted to be heard, always need to have the last word. The older I get the more interested I become in listening.
I don’t think I ever thought about our relationship much in the last couple years. Just kind of maintained. Not to say we didn’t have our ups and downs in that period, but I haven’t fully examined it. And then a couple months ago I saw Passing Strange on Broadway, and it all came back to me. All the anger, self-righteousness, the resentment. I look back on all those petty feelings and realize that my whole relationship with my mother has been framed by the mind of a teenaged kid. That many of the decisions I made in my life that my mother vocally disagreed with were decisions of child that have impacted me as an adult, and she knew it. Of course she did, cause she’s dealing with her own. I don’t know what hers are, but I know we all face them.
After I saw Passing Strange, I realized that the tough spots in our relationship came because she loves me, cause she wants the best for me. It’s such a Hallmark sentiment, something that I the introspective poet should have picked up on a long time ago. But we all got our own blind spots, and I guess this was one of mine. I think it’s gotta be hard for a parent to have a child like me. Especially from my mother’s generation. In her mind the man went to work got a good job, pension, and raised his family. He didn’t go off and decide to travel the country to recite poems. She grew up with 3 brothers two of which became alcoholics, and never lived up to their potential. I think my chosen lifestyle must have scared the hell out of her, probably still does.
Through my childhood she could be tough on me. When I got older, she was even tougher. No coddling, nothing. I always felt because I couldn’t live up to my father’s example, she just didn’t love me. I was never going to be a Baptist preacher. I was never going to be able to live in the 9 to 5 world. All I could do is me. Because of all that heavy stuff I use to think she didn’t support me. For years I held this idea in my heart that one day, I would show her. Show her that I am somebody. That my art has value. That I have something to say. That in some ways I am like my dad, we just are talking to different congregations. For years I wanted to tell her, I’m not the person she thinks I am. That I’m not some selfish artist that doesn’t care about anyone else. ‘Cause I’m not. For years I wanted her to see the real me. That was one of the motivations that pushed me on to prove to her.
One day I was so mad at her, I needed vent, so I stopped by my friend, Keith house. Keith is close to twenty years older then me and for the last five years has become somewhat of an Uncle to me. We were sitting on his porch and he patiently listened to me. He looked down at the floor and said, “Sounds like your right on this one”. Before I could pat myself on the back he said “But she’s the only mother you got. You know what I’d give to talk to my mother?” It struck me then. You only get one shot with most of the people in your life. When they are gone they are gone.
The lead in Passing Strange takes a similar journey. I’m listening to the soundtrack now and it’s all coming back to me. This week I stand on the verge of some really excellent professional possibilities on several different fronts, somewhat of a milestone year. I can’t wait till the ink is dry on all of these deals to tell the world. I thought at this point I would feel some sort of vindication. Like I could finally tell my mother, see I was right! I thought I would feel validation, that I’d see her and gloat over it. I realize how foolish I was. What I feel now, is this overwhelming desire to ask her forgiveness. For all those stupid things I thought, the dumb things I’ve said, the heartbreak I put her through. I want to thank her, because she was the one that prepared me for all the obstacles I have to face. She never did it in spite she did it because that’s what a parent does for a child. All the times I thought she wasn’t supporting me, she was making me strong so I could support myself.
My mother will tell you I never write about her. But that’s not true, she’s behind every word, she just never took the credit.
I love you mommy
My mom will tell you I never write about her and I guess I don’t. We’ve had difficulties in our relationship. Mostly because we are too much a like, stubborn, opinionated, fire-in-belly, and not shy to show it. Two people like that always seem to bump heads. I love my mother. Deeply. She loves me deeply. But we always find away to not connect the dots between us. There is no big reveal here. She was, is, and always will be, a great parent. I have friends with mothers who are the exact opposite, and I thank God for my mother.
Lately I’ve found a way to keep us centered. I don’t argue with her about things that she says that I disagree with. I want to, but sometimes the best thing you can do is to shut up. I guess that was the problem when I was younger. I always wanted to be heard, always need to have the last word. The older I get the more interested I become in listening.
I don’t think I ever thought about our relationship much in the last couple years. Just kind of maintained. Not to say we didn’t have our ups and downs in that period, but I haven’t fully examined it. And then a couple months ago I saw Passing Strange on Broadway, and it all came back to me. All the anger, self-righteousness, the resentment. I look back on all those petty feelings and realize that my whole relationship with my mother has been framed by the mind of a teenaged kid. That many of the decisions I made in my life that my mother vocally disagreed with were decisions of child that have impacted me as an adult, and she knew it. Of course she did, cause she’s dealing with her own. I don’t know what hers are, but I know we all face them.
After I saw Passing Strange, I realized that the tough spots in our relationship came because she loves me, cause she wants the best for me. It’s such a Hallmark sentiment, something that I the introspective poet should have picked up on a long time ago. But we all got our own blind spots, and I guess this was one of mine. I think it’s gotta be hard for a parent to have a child like me. Especially from my mother’s generation. In her mind the man went to work got a good job, pension, and raised his family. He didn’t go off and decide to travel the country to recite poems. She grew up with 3 brothers two of which became alcoholics, and never lived up to their potential. I think my chosen lifestyle must have scared the hell out of her, probably still does.
Through my childhood she could be tough on me. When I got older, she was even tougher. No coddling, nothing. I always felt because I couldn’t live up to my father’s example, she just didn’t love me. I was never going to be a Baptist preacher. I was never going to be able to live in the 9 to 5 world. All I could do is me. Because of all that heavy stuff I use to think she didn’t support me. For years I held this idea in my heart that one day, I would show her. Show her that I am somebody. That my art has value. That I have something to say. That in some ways I am like my dad, we just are talking to different congregations. For years I wanted to tell her, I’m not the person she thinks I am. That I’m not some selfish artist that doesn’t care about anyone else. ‘Cause I’m not. For years I wanted her to see the real me. That was one of the motivations that pushed me on to prove to her.
One day I was so mad at her, I needed vent, so I stopped by my friend, Keith house. Keith is close to twenty years older then me and for the last five years has become somewhat of an Uncle to me. We were sitting on his porch and he patiently listened to me. He looked down at the floor and said, “Sounds like your right on this one”. Before I could pat myself on the back he said “But she’s the only mother you got. You know what I’d give to talk to my mother?” It struck me then. You only get one shot with most of the people in your life. When they are gone they are gone.
The lead in Passing Strange takes a similar journey. I’m listening to the soundtrack now and it’s all coming back to me. This week I stand on the verge of some really excellent professional possibilities on several different fronts, somewhat of a milestone year. I can’t wait till the ink is dry on all of these deals to tell the world. I thought at this point I would feel some sort of vindication. Like I could finally tell my mother, see I was right! I thought I would feel validation, that I’d see her and gloat over it. I realize how foolish I was. What I feel now, is this overwhelming desire to ask her forgiveness. For all those stupid things I thought, the dumb things I’ve said, the heartbreak I put her through. I want to thank her, because she was the one that prepared me for all the obstacles I have to face. She never did it in spite she did it because that’s what a parent does for a child. All the times I thought she wasn’t supporting me, she was making me strong so I could support myself.
My mother will tell you I never write about her. But that’s not true, she’s behind every word, she just never took the credit.
I love you mommy
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Perspective
The worse thing about performing is when its over. For me, it leaves a big hole. When I’m on stage I feel a certain magic, very specific to that place. I never want to let go of it. And then the show is over and I’m in this funk from missing it. So here I am in Funk City.
We put Summer in Sanctuary up at Theater Jacksonville this weekend. We got decent turn out, and people told me they really enjoyed the show. I’ve said this in previous blogs, but people have responded to this piece more then anything else I’ve done. I’m honored, and now feeling a little empty because I’m missing the stage, and worried about the future of the play.
I love my home city because I get to work on material here, and it’s a great place to raise kids, but for my career, it’s a tough sell. I don’t get to network, and people that could help me don’t get to see my work. So I sit here at the end of a very short run, and I don’t know what to do. I go through this stage after every show. The question of what’s next? The answer is I have no idea. I know the show will be in Detroit in October, I’m excited by that, but October seems so far away. I wanna do it tomorrow. One of my personal goals in life is to win an Obie. The Obie is the equivalent of an off Broadway Oscar. The key for me getting an Obie would be to perform off Broadway, in NYC. With the current status of the play, I don’t see that happening. I’m not saying it won’t just saying that getting an off Broadway run for a relative unknown, is not an easy sell.
Today in the midst of stewing over all of this, and feeling somewhat melancholy, I found out I had to pay a bill that I shouldn’t have had to pay. That sentences is intentionally vague. Anyway, when I went to pay the bill, I ran into a young lady broke down in the parking lot. I helped her jump her vehicle, and no dice the truck wasn’t moving. I was going to leave her there after that, but she started crying and said her 80 year old Grandmother was with her (she was standing outside the building, in the hot Florida sun). I felt bad for her and gave them both a ride across town. As we drove the more the young lady talked the more I could tell the car breaking down was just another mishap pushing her over the edge. She’s had a hard life, some by the choices she’s made some just by circumstance. She was scared I was going to judge her, but I’ve made so many mistakes in my life, I have no right to judge anyone. I told her that and she seemed to become a little more comfortable. Her grandmother sat in the back of the car having an in depth conversation with my youngest Aiden, about dogs and other important things 3 year olds like to talk about.
We got to their house and the Grandmother was so sweet instructing me to come back and not be a stranger, but when the young lady got out the car she was crying, feeling like her life was falling apart. I grabbed her hand and told her, “This to shall pass. You go through rough times, to get to the good” She smiled at me briefly, then walked into her house.
I drove away and thought a lot about her, and her life and the troubles she might not ever escape. I thought about my own problems and while my feelings of emptiness was still there, but it was easier to look at it for what it is. I don’t have half the money I need, it’s hard making a living as an artist, but my struggle is nothing compared to many. Doesn’t change the fact that I want an Obie, doesn’t invalidate that desire, just puts it in perspective.
We put Summer in Sanctuary up at Theater Jacksonville this weekend. We got decent turn out, and people told me they really enjoyed the show. I’ve said this in previous blogs, but people have responded to this piece more then anything else I’ve done. I’m honored, and now feeling a little empty because I’m missing the stage, and worried about the future of the play.
I love my home city because I get to work on material here, and it’s a great place to raise kids, but for my career, it’s a tough sell. I don’t get to network, and people that could help me don’t get to see my work. So I sit here at the end of a very short run, and I don’t know what to do. I go through this stage after every show. The question of what’s next? The answer is I have no idea. I know the show will be in Detroit in October, I’m excited by that, but October seems so far away. I wanna do it tomorrow. One of my personal goals in life is to win an Obie. The Obie is the equivalent of an off Broadway Oscar. The key for me getting an Obie would be to perform off Broadway, in NYC. With the current status of the play, I don’t see that happening. I’m not saying it won’t just saying that getting an off Broadway run for a relative unknown, is not an easy sell.
Today in the midst of stewing over all of this, and feeling somewhat melancholy, I found out I had to pay a bill that I shouldn’t have had to pay. That sentences is intentionally vague. Anyway, when I went to pay the bill, I ran into a young lady broke down in the parking lot. I helped her jump her vehicle, and no dice the truck wasn’t moving. I was going to leave her there after that, but she started crying and said her 80 year old Grandmother was with her (she was standing outside the building, in the hot Florida sun). I felt bad for her and gave them both a ride across town. As we drove the more the young lady talked the more I could tell the car breaking down was just another mishap pushing her over the edge. She’s had a hard life, some by the choices she’s made some just by circumstance. She was scared I was going to judge her, but I’ve made so many mistakes in my life, I have no right to judge anyone. I told her that and she seemed to become a little more comfortable. Her grandmother sat in the back of the car having an in depth conversation with my youngest Aiden, about dogs and other important things 3 year olds like to talk about.
We got to their house and the Grandmother was so sweet instructing me to come back and not be a stranger, but when the young lady got out the car she was crying, feeling like her life was falling apart. I grabbed her hand and told her, “This to shall pass. You go through rough times, to get to the good” She smiled at me briefly, then walked into her house.
I drove away and thought a lot about her, and her life and the troubles she might not ever escape. I thought about my own problems and while my feelings of emptiness was still there, but it was easier to look at it for what it is. I don’t have half the money I need, it’s hard making a living as an artist, but my struggle is nothing compared to many. Doesn’t change the fact that I want an Obie, doesn’t invalidate that desire, just puts it in perspective.
Thursday, May 01, 2008
Monday, April 21, 2008
Overwhelming
Monday. April 21st 2008.
Wow. I woke up this morning completely overwhelmed. The response for Summer in Sanctuary was absolutely incredible and unparalleled in the history of my career. I’ve done a ton of work, and people have been kind, generous, and encouraging. But this is something different.
When we (Willie Evans Jr. and director Gary Anderson) did the show in Baltimore, we had so many technical issues and we were working out all the kinks in the script, we didn’t get a chance to really revel in the experience. Good reviews. People were moved. Vicky and the kids from the Sanctuary came up and that was very special. It was a good thing. But doing the play here in Jacksonville has got to be a highlight in my career.
We booked the show at Players by the Sea, my theatrical home in Jacksonville, and didn’t really give Joe (a patron saint in the career of Al Letson) much time to promote. We got the word out, Bob White (another patron saint) plugged the show at the Jacksonville Arts Awards luncheon, and then Friday came and we had a really good crowd. People were enthusiastic, and giving to the show, and we put on a good performance. If felt very different performing the piece in Jacksonville. Like this is where it needed to be done, finally the piece is home. The second night the theatre was full, and the love the audience gave Willie and I was tremendous. Vicky came the first night, and she returned the second night with a big smile and Biko. Biko left the Sanctuary, and has been on the streets living his life the best way he knows how. He never came to Baltimore to see the show, so this would be his first experience watching himself on stage.
I haven’t seen Biko in awhile, frankly I was surprised he was there. I hope he saw a reflection of who he really is, and not what the street tells him. In doing the play every night I’m moved because I love him, and all the kids at the Sanctuary, but it’s hard to tell them that in a way that they understand. People can tell you they love you, but when you live in their conditions words seem pretty empty. More then anything I’ve ever written, this play is a love song to them, to the kids, to Vicky, to the city. I hope that Biko got that. That someone loves him unconditionally. When he walked down the stair to give me a hug, I wrapped my arms around him and was right back in that Summer in 06’ where I didn’t want to let him go.
After having a successful run, my only worry is that people got the wrong idea. I don’t want people looking at the piece and going “Oh, that’s a nice story and he’s a good performer”, and give me all the props. It’s nice and I appreciate it. But at the end of the day, what I want is change. I want people to get up and do something. I want them to feel like if this nerd can do something small, so can I. Government can’t change the story of Springfield, of poverty, of lost children. Only people can. God may work through governments at times, although evidence of that in recent times is slim to none, but I think it’s in the heart of man, where he whispers his providence. I hope this piece will soften some hearts so they can hear that whisper and do something.
Wow. I woke up this morning completely overwhelmed. The response for Summer in Sanctuary was absolutely incredible and unparalleled in the history of my career. I’ve done a ton of work, and people have been kind, generous, and encouraging. But this is something different.
When we (Willie Evans Jr. and director Gary Anderson) did the show in Baltimore, we had so many technical issues and we were working out all the kinks in the script, we didn’t get a chance to really revel in the experience. Good reviews. People were moved. Vicky and the kids from the Sanctuary came up and that was very special. It was a good thing. But doing the play here in Jacksonville has got to be a highlight in my career.
We booked the show at Players by the Sea, my theatrical home in Jacksonville, and didn’t really give Joe (a patron saint in the career of Al Letson) much time to promote. We got the word out, Bob White (another patron saint) plugged the show at the Jacksonville Arts Awards luncheon, and then Friday came and we had a really good crowd. People were enthusiastic, and giving to the show, and we put on a good performance. If felt very different performing the piece in Jacksonville. Like this is where it needed to be done, finally the piece is home. The second night the theatre was full, and the love the audience gave Willie and I was tremendous. Vicky came the first night, and she returned the second night with a big smile and Biko. Biko left the Sanctuary, and has been on the streets living his life the best way he knows how. He never came to Baltimore to see the show, so this would be his first experience watching himself on stage.
I haven’t seen Biko in awhile, frankly I was surprised he was there. I hope he saw a reflection of who he really is, and not what the street tells him. In doing the play every night I’m moved because I love him, and all the kids at the Sanctuary, but it’s hard to tell them that in a way that they understand. People can tell you they love you, but when you live in their conditions words seem pretty empty. More then anything I’ve ever written, this play is a love song to them, to the kids, to Vicky, to the city. I hope that Biko got that. That someone loves him unconditionally. When he walked down the stair to give me a hug, I wrapped my arms around him and was right back in that Summer in 06’ where I didn’t want to let him go.
After having a successful run, my only worry is that people got the wrong idea. I don’t want people looking at the piece and going “Oh, that’s a nice story and he’s a good performer”, and give me all the props. It’s nice and I appreciate it. But at the end of the day, what I want is change. I want people to get up and do something. I want them to feel like if this nerd can do something small, so can I. Government can’t change the story of Springfield, of poverty, of lost children. Only people can. God may work through governments at times, although evidence of that in recent times is slim to none, but I think it’s in the heart of man, where he whispers his providence. I hope this piece will soften some hearts so they can hear that whisper and do something.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Monday, April 07, 2008
Waiting on Godot : Or, what’s up with the NPR contest?
Waiting on Godot : Or, what’s up with the NPR contest?
Actually the question should be what’s up with the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, and Public Radio Xchange? But most people don’t know that, neither did I till a year ago. Everyone and their momma has been asking me what’s up with my radio show. So I figured I’d write a post to catch everyone up to speed. The stuff you hear on your local public radio station is usually a conglomeration of a few different organizations, the best known of these is NPR, but there is also American Public Media and a few others. All of these organizations get funding from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting.
PRX is an organization that primarily distributes content, a couple years ago they came up with an idea to find new hosts and shows. They got the CPB involved, and two contests were created, LAUNCH, and the Public Radio Talent Quest. Out of these two contests winners would be picked and the funding would be given from CPB to support the chosen shows. CPB could pick as many shows as they wanted, or they could chose to not pick any (unlikely). After talking to the President of CPB a couple months ago, I got the impression that they would do more then one, probably 2-3. But who knows.
LAUNCH’s approach was to take three well known and respected Producers of Public Radio and start a search for celebrities to make their shows. Maybe celebrity is a little too big of a word… people from other mediums that the public might already be familiar with? I don’t know. I’ve heard this described as a top down approach. The three that were chosen are food writer Mark Bittman, activist and speaker Majora Carter, and actress/comedian Julia Sweeney. Very interesting group of people, and I dig all of their work. How will what they do translate into radio? Who knows?
PRX was tasked with the Public Radio Quest which was as grassroots as it can get. They created a website and asked for submissions. 1400 people applied out of that 1400, I was chosen after a long series of tasks to be one of the three winners. It was a grueling process that started in April of 07 and didn’t finish until December 07’. I’ve blogged about the experience before so I won’t bore you with the details of all the work. I’ll just say I was glad when it was over.
The three finalist received funding to create a pilot which in turn would be what CPB used to determine who was going to get the funding. The show I created is entitled State of the Re:UNION. At it’s essence, SOTRU is about bringing people together. The method the show uses to accomplish that goal is by traveling to a different city every week and asking the questions, what makes community? Who are the people that help define it? What brings people together, and what pulls them apart? The hope is by focusing on different cities, this big country of ours doesn’t seem so big anymore, that people in Walla Walla Washington hear the show and recognize that people in Charlotte NC have the same struggles, the same hopes and dreams. All things that separate us are so much smaller than the things that bring us together. There is one America, if we will it to be so. Lofty goals for a radio show, but if you read the blog a lot you know lofty goals are my thing.
So back the original question, what’s going on now? The answer is nothing and everything. We’ve done all the work, turned in the pilot in December, and now must wait on CPB. The LAUNCH crew didn’t have to have their pilot in until February so CPB didn’t start listening to them until March. They formed a committee of industry professionals to judge the programs, make recommendations, and then they would decided on who gets the funding. At this time the panel has convened, and CPB has informed us that they will be looking at those recommendations for the rest of the month. At the end of the month they will decide who gets the funding. I’ve set a date in my mind of May 15th as to when I’ll know. I needed a date. So I figured I’d give them an additional two weeks.
Honestly, they whole process is driving me nuts. I’d be nice to know what the future holds as far as radio is concerned, but like everything it all takes time, and patience, (something that I am not the best at) is a virtue.
Actually the question should be what’s up with the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, and Public Radio Xchange? But most people don’t know that, neither did I till a year ago. Everyone and their momma has been asking me what’s up with my radio show. So I figured I’d write a post to catch everyone up to speed. The stuff you hear on your local public radio station is usually a conglomeration of a few different organizations, the best known of these is NPR, but there is also American Public Media and a few others. All of these organizations get funding from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting.
PRX is an organization that primarily distributes content, a couple years ago they came up with an idea to find new hosts and shows. They got the CPB involved, and two contests were created, LAUNCH, and the Public Radio Talent Quest. Out of these two contests winners would be picked and the funding would be given from CPB to support the chosen shows. CPB could pick as many shows as they wanted, or they could chose to not pick any (unlikely). After talking to the President of CPB a couple months ago, I got the impression that they would do more then one, probably 2-3. But who knows.
LAUNCH’s approach was to take three well known and respected Producers of Public Radio and start a search for celebrities to make their shows. Maybe celebrity is a little too big of a word… people from other mediums that the public might already be familiar with? I don’t know. I’ve heard this described as a top down approach. The three that were chosen are food writer Mark Bittman, activist and speaker Majora Carter, and actress/comedian Julia Sweeney. Very interesting group of people, and I dig all of their work. How will what they do translate into radio? Who knows?
PRX was tasked with the Public Radio Quest which was as grassroots as it can get. They created a website and asked for submissions. 1400 people applied out of that 1400, I was chosen after a long series of tasks to be one of the three winners. It was a grueling process that started in April of 07 and didn’t finish until December 07’. I’ve blogged about the experience before so I won’t bore you with the details of all the work. I’ll just say I was glad when it was over.
The three finalist received funding to create a pilot which in turn would be what CPB used to determine who was going to get the funding. The show I created is entitled State of the Re:UNION. At it’s essence, SOTRU is about bringing people together. The method the show uses to accomplish that goal is by traveling to a different city every week and asking the questions, what makes community? Who are the people that help define it? What brings people together, and what pulls them apart? The hope is by focusing on different cities, this big country of ours doesn’t seem so big anymore, that people in Walla Walla Washington hear the show and recognize that people in Charlotte NC have the same struggles, the same hopes and dreams. All things that separate us are so much smaller than the things that bring us together. There is one America, if we will it to be so. Lofty goals for a radio show, but if you read the blog a lot you know lofty goals are my thing.
So back the original question, what’s going on now? The answer is nothing and everything. We’ve done all the work, turned in the pilot in December, and now must wait on CPB. The LAUNCH crew didn’t have to have their pilot in until February so CPB didn’t start listening to them until March. They formed a committee of industry professionals to judge the programs, make recommendations, and then they would decided on who gets the funding. At this time the panel has convened, and CPB has informed us that they will be looking at those recommendations for the rest of the month. At the end of the month they will decide who gets the funding. I’ve set a date in my mind of May 15th as to when I’ll know. I needed a date. So I figured I’d give them an additional two weeks.
Honestly, they whole process is driving me nuts. I’d be nice to know what the future holds as far as radio is concerned, but like everything it all takes time, and patience, (something that I am not the best at) is a virtue.
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Thank You
Thank You.
Today was it. The last day of A Summer in Sanctuary at the Baltimore Theatre Project. What a journey. All day long I felt like I was living in a movie. Walking down the streets of Mt. Vernon in Baltimore, with my iPod blaring some melancholy music; passing the row houses on my last trip to the Theatre Project somehow it didn’t feel real.
I get this way at the end of a project. Nostalgic. Happy. Sad. Motivated. Tired. Today feels special though because I feel like I can finally look back and take the journey in. I’m not one for looking back too much. I think the important thing is too keep looking to the future and putting one foot in front of the other. But this feels like a good point to take a break and thank God for the blessings.
April of 07’ I entered this contest to be a radio host on NPR, I never thought much about it after I entered, until they called me and told me that I was one of the ten finalist. What a rush the entire contest was. A rush, but hard work. I killed myself, and everyone around me for 9 months until I was selected as one of three winners. One of three out of 1,400.
Thank you.
Radio was a happy happenchance, but also somewhat of a distraction to the work I needed to do on the theatre piece that was opening at the Theatre Project in February. The first solo show, I’d done in years. I was scared to death of the subject because of the first time I am truly reveling myself. Summer in Sanctuary is the story of one of the big challenges in my life. In writing it I knew I was exposing myself for the world to see, but it seemed more important to tell the story, then it did to protect myself. If I’m going to be honest here I have to admit that I was also scared to do a solo show. For the last three years, I’d been working with an incredible group of people, Larry Knight, David Girard and Barbara Colaciello. They are my family and I love every one of them, but the story I needed to tell was about me, and my journey. I had to tell it alone. Working with the four of them is such a welcome fit I was petrified to move away from that comfort zone.
Art though is not meant to be safe so I got a date for a premiere, strapped on my seatbelt and started my engine.
Thank you.
Here’s the hook. When I set the deadline I didn’t have NPR, and CPB telling me I needed to get a pilot for a radio show done. The Radio deadline was first, so I had to do it, with the help of Taki Telodonis, The Poemcees, Willie Evans Jr., Doug Mitchell, and a few other special people I was able to get the pilot done on time. When it was done I was drained. Emotionally spent. Ready to recharge. Oh… wait…. I have a play that’s due in three weeks. I didn’t think I could do it. My emotional instrument was empty. I put so much heart and soul into the radio show, I just didn’t think there was any left for “Sanctuary”.
For a full week I tried to write; pushing myself as much as I could and everything I came out with was hollow. Nothing rang true. I was scared. But too many people were depending on me. Summer in Sanctuary is the story of my time working at the Sanctuary on 8th Street a community center of sorts for underprivileged children. This is the hardest job I’ve ever had, and at the end of it I was a changed man. I had to tell the story for me, but more importantly I had to tell the story for the kids at the Sanctuary. So when I’m working on the show and nothing was coming I got scared cause I wanted to be able to give something back to them. I went to the Sanctuary to pick up a DVD from the executive director and my friend Vickie Watkins. I had an idea to put the movies from the DVD in the play but wasn’t sure how. When I watched that DVD, it just washed over me. The entire summer that at one point I tried hard to forget it was coming back full throttle. The next morning I got up and wrote all day long.
Thank you.
I was fortunate enough to find another team to work with DJ/Emcee/Producer Willie Evans Jr., and director Gary Anderson who’d directed Julius X in Detroit. In all my work, I’ve learned the key to success is a good team. It’s a little embarrassing when you are working on something, and there are so many people who should get credit, but because you are the face, they tend to be in the background and not get their props. Gary and Willie Evans made it happen. We had a great time in Baltimore, and I can’t wait for the three of us to hang again and do some good work.
Thank you.
I plan to write a blog post about Baltimore, much to talk about. But right now, I’m just reveling in the fact that I did it. I’m nostalgic. Happy. Sad. Motivated. Tired. But most of all thankful.
Ashé
Today was it. The last day of A Summer in Sanctuary at the Baltimore Theatre Project. What a journey. All day long I felt like I was living in a movie. Walking down the streets of Mt. Vernon in Baltimore, with my iPod blaring some melancholy music; passing the row houses on my last trip to the Theatre Project somehow it didn’t feel real.
I get this way at the end of a project. Nostalgic. Happy. Sad. Motivated. Tired. Today feels special though because I feel like I can finally look back and take the journey in. I’m not one for looking back too much. I think the important thing is too keep looking to the future and putting one foot in front of the other. But this feels like a good point to take a break and thank God for the blessings.
April of 07’ I entered this contest to be a radio host on NPR, I never thought much about it after I entered, until they called me and told me that I was one of the ten finalist. What a rush the entire contest was. A rush, but hard work. I killed myself, and everyone around me for 9 months until I was selected as one of three winners. One of three out of 1,400.
Thank you.
Radio was a happy happenchance, but also somewhat of a distraction to the work I needed to do on the theatre piece that was opening at the Theatre Project in February. The first solo show, I’d done in years. I was scared to death of the subject because of the first time I am truly reveling myself. Summer in Sanctuary is the story of one of the big challenges in my life. In writing it I knew I was exposing myself for the world to see, but it seemed more important to tell the story, then it did to protect myself. If I’m going to be honest here I have to admit that I was also scared to do a solo show. For the last three years, I’d been working with an incredible group of people, Larry Knight, David Girard and Barbara Colaciello. They are my family and I love every one of them, but the story I needed to tell was about me, and my journey. I had to tell it alone. Working with the four of them is such a welcome fit I was petrified to move away from that comfort zone.
Art though is not meant to be safe so I got a date for a premiere, strapped on my seatbelt and started my engine.
Thank you.
Here’s the hook. When I set the deadline I didn’t have NPR, and CPB telling me I needed to get a pilot for a radio show done. The Radio deadline was first, so I had to do it, with the help of Taki Telodonis, The Poemcees, Willie Evans Jr., Doug Mitchell, and a few other special people I was able to get the pilot done on time. When it was done I was drained. Emotionally spent. Ready to recharge. Oh… wait…. I have a play that’s due in three weeks. I didn’t think I could do it. My emotional instrument was empty. I put so much heart and soul into the radio show, I just didn’t think there was any left for “Sanctuary”.
For a full week I tried to write; pushing myself as much as I could and everything I came out with was hollow. Nothing rang true. I was scared. But too many people were depending on me. Summer in Sanctuary is the story of my time working at the Sanctuary on 8th Street a community center of sorts for underprivileged children. This is the hardest job I’ve ever had, and at the end of it I was a changed man. I had to tell the story for me, but more importantly I had to tell the story for the kids at the Sanctuary. So when I’m working on the show and nothing was coming I got scared cause I wanted to be able to give something back to them. I went to the Sanctuary to pick up a DVD from the executive director and my friend Vickie Watkins. I had an idea to put the movies from the DVD in the play but wasn’t sure how. When I watched that DVD, it just washed over me. The entire summer that at one point I tried hard to forget it was coming back full throttle. The next morning I got up and wrote all day long.
Thank you.
I was fortunate enough to find another team to work with DJ/Emcee/Producer Willie Evans Jr., and director Gary Anderson who’d directed Julius X in Detroit. In all my work, I’ve learned the key to success is a good team. It’s a little embarrassing when you are working on something, and there are so many people who should get credit, but because you are the face, they tend to be in the background and not get their props. Gary and Willie Evans made it happen. We had a great time in Baltimore, and I can’t wait for the three of us to hang again and do some good work.
Thank you.
I plan to write a blog post about Baltimore, much to talk about. But right now, I’m just reveling in the fact that I did it. I’m nostalgic. Happy. Sad. Motivated. Tired. But most of all thankful.
Ashé
Friday, January 18, 2008
The Writer
There are days when I feel like a writer, and days when I totally don’t. This week is a writers week. When I can feel the stories that need to be told ready to burst. The times when I don’t feel like a writer are just as useful, because I know the seed is growing in the soil. But I get impatient. All the doubts that every artist I know has begin the creep up. The thought that all the art you have done in the past is luck. That you don’t really have talent, you just stumbled into something, and maybe it’s true. I don’t know… I feel like the art I do, I don’t really choose. It chooses me, I’m just following something that I never really have control of. For a long time, I wanted to control it. Those are the times, when nothing happens. When I stare at a blank page and nothing comes for days. When I remember that I can’t control it, I just need to trust it, then the work seems to flow.
Deadlines have been kicking my rump for the last three months. The biggest one as the Public Radio Quest. I won a spot in the top three where I was given $10,000 to create a pilot for Public Radio. Sometime in the near future, the Corporation for Public Broadcasting will vote on my program, and decide if it’s something they want to fund. This whole process was huge. A ton of work without my advisor, Taki Telondis and Doug Mitchell of NPR, I would not have gotten through it. In the end Taki and I were working 18 hours a day trying to finish before the deadline. All sorts of calamity befalling us, from death in the family (an uncle and aunt dieing within weeks or each other). My computer crashed, lost everything. Traveling to DC and trying to make the interviews work, and coming home and editing. To just paying the bills while working to put all it together. This was a monumental task, and with a lot of help, we did it.
I never expected to win the Talent Quest contest. I figured I’d do ok, but never dreamed I’d win. When I entered in April, the end of the contest in December seemed so far away. There was no way I could foresee the future. So without thinking about it, I scheduled a gig in Feb. at the Theater Project. A solo show entitled, A Summer in Sanctuary. Here’s the problem. In winning the contest, I really screwed the writing process for the solo show. There was no way I could move the show back, and the contest was in full swing so I did what I could; wrote when I could, planned as much as possible, talked to the director of the piece, all the while knowing that as soon as the contest was over I’d have to kick it into full drive if I was going to be ready for Feb.
So here we are in the middle of full drive. It took me a week or two to get into the groove but finally, I have it. The stories and writing is coming at a good pace. Now it’s all the logistics. Learning a 90 page script in a month, rehearsing with a director 2000 miles away, pulling together the multimedia portion of the show and a bunch of other small details that need to be worked out.
But I’m not worried about any of that today. I’m just glad to be feeling like I’m a writer again.
Deadlines have been kicking my rump for the last three months. The biggest one as the Public Radio Quest. I won a spot in the top three where I was given $10,000 to create a pilot for Public Radio. Sometime in the near future, the Corporation for Public Broadcasting will vote on my program, and decide if it’s something they want to fund. This whole process was huge. A ton of work without my advisor, Taki Telondis and Doug Mitchell of NPR, I would not have gotten through it. In the end Taki and I were working 18 hours a day trying to finish before the deadline. All sorts of calamity befalling us, from death in the family (an uncle and aunt dieing within weeks or each other). My computer crashed, lost everything. Traveling to DC and trying to make the interviews work, and coming home and editing. To just paying the bills while working to put all it together. This was a monumental task, and with a lot of help, we did it.
I never expected to win the Talent Quest contest. I figured I’d do ok, but never dreamed I’d win. When I entered in April, the end of the contest in December seemed so far away. There was no way I could foresee the future. So without thinking about it, I scheduled a gig in Feb. at the Theater Project. A solo show entitled, A Summer in Sanctuary. Here’s the problem. In winning the contest, I really screwed the writing process for the solo show. There was no way I could move the show back, and the contest was in full swing so I did what I could; wrote when I could, planned as much as possible, talked to the director of the piece, all the while knowing that as soon as the contest was over I’d have to kick it into full drive if I was going to be ready for Feb.
So here we are in the middle of full drive. It took me a week or two to get into the groove but finally, I have it. The stories and writing is coming at a good pace. Now it’s all the logistics. Learning a 90 page script in a month, rehearsing with a director 2000 miles away, pulling together the multimedia portion of the show and a bunch of other small details that need to be worked out.
But I’m not worried about any of that today. I’m just glad to be feeling like I’m a writer again.
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