stories: why I became a theater artist

I struggle in my relationship with my father. Ever since my brother was born, it was clear that as the only son, my brother was also the favorite child.

My dad has tried to be supportive from time to time. My dad is NOT a feminist, but he has tried to be enlightened from time to time.

For instance, when I came home with some extraordinarily high score on some standardized test or other, my father urged me to broaden my horizons.

He said, "These are great scores. You could do anything. You don't have to feel limited because you are a girl. You could do anything... you could become a doctor, a lawyer, an engineer... as long as it didn't require talent, you could do it."

So I became an actor.

bomb threat

There was another bomb threat at my university today.

This makes the third or fourth in as many months.

One building was closed and will be all day.

bizarre.

what honor in murder?

Man Accused Of Killing Daughter For Family Honor-

That was the headline at npr.org today. I heard on the radio when I was going home from a morning appointment at the optometrist's.

In July, a young woman was found dead. Her father allegedly confessed to strangling her with a bungee cord because she was bringing dishonor to the family by seeking a divorce.

"She wanted out of an arranged marriage, but her father thought a divorce would bring shame to the family. . . Honor killings are old rites of murder within families, committed because of some perceived dishonor or shame."-- from the NPR story.

The story later states "[A police officer] says Rashid told him that killing his daughter was a right given to him by God — and that God would protect him. To police, in other words, this was an honor killing."

The defense team is trying to keep this incident from being labeled an honor killing.

As I listened to the radio, and more and more as I thought about it, I was uncomfortable with the label myself. The semantics of it: an honor killing. It makes it sound-- well, not like murder, not like a homicide, not like murdering your own flesh and blood. Labeling such a crime an honor killing makes it sound almost noble.

There is nothing admirable about murder, certainly nothing honorable about murdering your own flesh and blood.

And let's be honest: how many "honor killings" target men, huh? Much like "wife-beating" or "domestic violence", this kind of semantic dance turns blame away from the perpetrator, distances the criminal from the crime, the offender from the offense.

"Wife-beating" sounds like there are wives out there getting beaten, sure, by... someone. "Domestic violence" makes brutality in the home-- where we should be safest, where we should have the people who love us and protect us-- seem abstract, the topic for scholarly research.

The language we use is important. It shapes our perceptions. It matters.

Why, oh, why, would such a thing be called an honor killing? Even in the perpetrator's mind, it is not motivated by honor, but by shame-- perceived shame, anyway.

If you must call it anything other than murder, call it a shame murder.

young + thin = beautiful

Have you noticed? On TV, in the movies, everyone is young and thin and beautiful.

Just watch.

Oh, occasionally you will see a man who is older, or quirky looking, or even heavier -- most often on comedies (where you may *occasionally* see a woman who is heavier), or as the victim / butt-0f-joke on a dramedy or drama.

A woman who is not thin or not young is virtually never the center of our attention in drama, never the heroine of the tale.

Just watch.

I am not happy about this equation.

It seems once we have grown older and filled out our figures and borne our children, there is really no need for us. We certainly don't need to be visible in the media through which, like it or not, art mirrors life and life mirrors art.

I don't like this equation and I don't know how to change it.

Real women with real bodies have been admired in days gone by...



And even longer gone than Rubens' day:


What ever happened that made "boyish hips" a good thing on a woman?

but I can't AFFORD to save $1400!!

really!

So I opened up my email to find an offer to

Save $1400 on a NEW home theater system!!!


The idea of saving $1400 is pretty exciting to me. Anything with the word "theater" in it is also exciting.

However, I have learned through sad experience that I simply cannot afford to save $1400.

the view from my window

Outside it is a hushed fairy land. The sparkle of white and the softness of drifts add to the impression of magic and innocence.

I know that the wind bites, that the dark tortured reaching of naked limbs of trees stripped bare is closer to the reality of winter than feathery coverlets hiding fairies yet unseen.

Still...

Inside it is warm and soup is on the stove; the air is fragrant with cooking and care. Dogs are curled at my feet, warming my toes. There is work to do, and some time in which to do it. There are new memories of good times shared with those we love, and plans ahead to meet again.

Outside it is clean and pure and there is magic in the air.

The ugliness of dead leaves and old mud has disappeared.

The snow blankets the muck and debris of a dying year. The wind whispers, sleep, sleep and soon all the pain and struggle of the year that is past will fall away, the pain will be but a memory and only the love will remain.

I can almost believe that this magic is possible. Quiet! Don't wake me from my dream.

Outside it is a hushed fairy land.

falling in love, just a little bit, if...

this is a tale told to me by a young man whose heart has been broken

maybe the heart is mending, just a little bit, if...

So, the young man said, I want to tell you about how I could have fallen in love, just a little bit, IF I were open to that.

He said, I was on the train in Chicago, going from where I had been to where I would be next, when I saw this girl.

She was pretty, a very pretty girl and I thought, wow, what a pretty girl. That is nice.

Then I noticed her dress. It was a white dress with green piping. It was a nice dress, and it looked good on her. I thought, wow, what a nice dress on such a pretty girl.

Then I noticed that she was reading-- which is a great thing to do on the train. Even better, she was reading Catch 22. You either get Catch 22, or you don't. I love Catch 22.

Wow! I thought, Amazing! Here is a pretty girl, a very pretty girl, in a nice dress, who reads, AND who has GREAT taste in literature.

At that moment, he said, I thought I might fall in love with this girl, just a little bit. IF, he said, I had been open to that.

The train traveled, he said, getting closer to my stop, and I wondered if I should say something to the pretty girl in the nice white dress with green piping who was reading one of the great books of all time.

I wondered, and wondered, and got closer and closer to my stop, and finally, I said to her:

"Catch 22! That's a great book!"

She looked up at me, this pretty girl in the nice white dress, and said: "I know! It's just amazing!"

And she smiled.

And her smile was beautiful. And I thought, I might fall in love, just a little bit, with this pretty girl in the nice white dress reading Catch 22, who has a beautiful smile-- IF, he added, I were open to that.

But then, he continued, my stop came up and I grinned at the girl as I left. I'm sure she thought I was some crazy guy on the train. But I could almost have fallen in love, just a little bit, with this girl on the train. IF I were open to that.

And the young man concluded his tale.

And I, dear reader, thought to myself, how appropriate that the book was Catch 22.