Monday, October 19, 2009
Hereticnow.com
I apologize for the relative silence here. I can't speak for others, but I myself have been busy with life, and more importantly... The new website! Now up and running, Hereticnow.com is your new destination for everything heretic, centering around our blog. That being said, I have transferred over all of the entries from blogspot, so they are easily accessible, and new entries and topics will be appearing there rather than here! I look forward to seeing you all at http://hereticnow.com!
animals in need
I think it's funny that I'm the only one that does this anymore. Should I keep doing it? If I write about something and no one reads it, does it matter? I don't know. Anyway
Every time I walk Bread which is twice a day we walk by this house with a smaller dog. It's not a little yappy dog, it might be a puppy. But something happened to it and it's two back legs are paralyzed. I sometimes see the owner trying to make it walk, with it's legs in a wheel brace. The dog doesn't seem into it. In fact the dog seems depressed, or that's how it looks to me. I am most likely putting that emotion on the dog.
Generally the dog is left on a small porch, it's mostly the steps up to the house. It just sort half sits up on a blanket, sometimes he's covered in a blanket, and sometimes he's on the lawn. Recently it's made me angry that he gets left all day on the lawn, because we have a lot of mosquito's right now, and I see them swarming around this dog. But then I think, well, the owners must love this dog, if he was paralyzed and they paid for his recovery. He has water, and they seem like they care. But I want them to keep the dog inside with them, because I feel like the dog is lonely, and I would never leave a dog who can't walk out in the open, because he can't defend himself, or get away.
So today as we were walking, I noticed the dog at the bottom of the three stairs that lead up to the landing that he is usually on. It looked as though he had fallen, because he was on top of a barrier, that they had set up, and all of his blankets were in disarray. He was looking toward his front door. I had Bread, and so I wasn't sure what to do, because I didn't want Bread to jump on him, or scare him. But then two walkers came by and I asked them if they wouldn't ring the doorbell to let them know the dog had fallen. After a few minutes someone came out, and they picked up the dog and put him back on the landing and sort of loosely blocked his way with the barrier.
This sort of made me depressed. And I come up against this again and again. Because I know that that dog is alive because he wants to be. The dog is choosing to hang around with that family. But I cannot reconcile my feelings about the dog, and I feel this need to help, or care for it. I hate thinking of the dog outside all day just sitting there. This is the one thing that I haven't been able to understand yet about the law of attraction. I can almost understand it in my mind, but my emotions feel so contrary. I have a feeling I'm going to keep seeing animals in situations like this, until I can make peace with it, or just not view it in such a way that my heart hurts.
That's all I got today.
Every time I walk Bread which is twice a day we walk by this house with a smaller dog. It's not a little yappy dog, it might be a puppy. But something happened to it and it's two back legs are paralyzed. I sometimes see the owner trying to make it walk, with it's legs in a wheel brace. The dog doesn't seem into it. In fact the dog seems depressed, or that's how it looks to me. I am most likely putting that emotion on the dog.
Generally the dog is left on a small porch, it's mostly the steps up to the house. It just sort half sits up on a blanket, sometimes he's covered in a blanket, and sometimes he's on the lawn. Recently it's made me angry that he gets left all day on the lawn, because we have a lot of mosquito's right now, and I see them swarming around this dog. But then I think, well, the owners must love this dog, if he was paralyzed and they paid for his recovery. He has water, and they seem like they care. But I want them to keep the dog inside with them, because I feel like the dog is lonely, and I would never leave a dog who can't walk out in the open, because he can't defend himself, or get away.
So today as we were walking, I noticed the dog at the bottom of the three stairs that lead up to the landing that he is usually on. It looked as though he had fallen, because he was on top of a barrier, that they had set up, and all of his blankets were in disarray. He was looking toward his front door. I had Bread, and so I wasn't sure what to do, because I didn't want Bread to jump on him, or scare him. But then two walkers came by and I asked them if they wouldn't ring the doorbell to let them know the dog had fallen. After a few minutes someone came out, and they picked up the dog and put him back on the landing and sort of loosely blocked his way with the barrier.
This sort of made me depressed. And I come up against this again and again. Because I know that that dog is alive because he wants to be. The dog is choosing to hang around with that family. But I cannot reconcile my feelings about the dog, and I feel this need to help, or care for it. I hate thinking of the dog outside all day just sitting there. This is the one thing that I haven't been able to understand yet about the law of attraction. I can almost understand it in my mind, but my emotions feel so contrary. I have a feeling I'm going to keep seeing animals in situations like this, until I can make peace with it, or just not view it in such a way that my heart hurts.
That's all I got today.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Laramie
I felt bad yesterday because I didn't have time to write my blog...but now I see it doesn't matter. I think I'm the only one who still writes a blog. Crying.
Last night I got to be in a reading of The Laramie Project and Epilogue, which if you are familiar with the original play, is about the murder of Mathew Shepard. This was a fascinating look at the town ten years later. I remember very vividly the murder and then driving through Laramie two years later on my way to NY. It felt like a sad and repressed place. The play focuses on what has changed since the murder, and it's good and bad, because for some people a lot changed for the better, and for others, they prefer to pretend that the crime was not a hate crime. One of the things that struck me most about the play was that one of the policeman who was responsible for the conviction of the two killers was homophobic before the murder, and he said that by being forced to work with the gay community, he realised that his whole life he had been precluding a group of people from friendship. A group of good people. And that he's made a 180 degree turn in his heart. But what troubles him is that it took the murder of this young man for him to realize that. I just thought how wonderful that he was able to change his mind, and see past his fear, and that now he has wonderful relationships with people who ten years before he would have avoided. And the police department in Laramie defends the gay community that lives there. They were able to build that relationship. So many wonderful things came out of that murder. And there are still people who hate another group of people for no reason, but this example of it changing was very inspiring to me.
Anyway, we did two performances of the play last night, and as I was leaving I saw a young man hugging our director, weeping and thanking her. Theatre is still powerful, I don't care what people say about it!
Last night I got to be in a reading of The Laramie Project and Epilogue, which if you are familiar with the original play, is about the murder of Mathew Shepard. This was a fascinating look at the town ten years later. I remember very vividly the murder and then driving through Laramie two years later on my way to NY. It felt like a sad and repressed place. The play focuses on what has changed since the murder, and it's good and bad, because for some people a lot changed for the better, and for others, they prefer to pretend that the crime was not a hate crime. One of the things that struck me most about the play was that one of the policeman who was responsible for the conviction of the two killers was homophobic before the murder, and he said that by being forced to work with the gay community, he realised that his whole life he had been precluding a group of people from friendship. A group of good people. And that he's made a 180 degree turn in his heart. But what troubles him is that it took the murder of this young man for him to realize that. I just thought how wonderful that he was able to change his mind, and see past his fear, and that now he has wonderful relationships with people who ten years before he would have avoided. And the police department in Laramie defends the gay community that lives there. They were able to build that relationship. So many wonderful things came out of that murder. And there are still people who hate another group of people for no reason, but this example of it changing was very inspiring to me.
Anyway, we did two performances of the play last night, and as I was leaving I saw a young man hugging our director, weeping and thanking her. Theatre is still powerful, I don't care what people say about it!
Monday, October 5, 2009
Thoughts on School
One thing I love about school is that I'm always busy, and I'm always getting stuff done. And even though it school, it's theatre, and that's what I want my life's work to be. And when I imagine my life after school, it seems the same to me. The only different thing is I will be the conductor. No one will tell me to write a play or direct a play or to read this book or that. But I will tell myself those things. It's almost like being in school these last five years has been a way for me to live the kind of life I want to live. And now, I just have to really live it. I have to get paid for it. I've been practicing my life, and now it's time to perform. That is so exciting to me. I'm excited to get paid for these things, and to keep learning, and meeting new people and collaborating with them. It is so intensely satisfying to be in a good collaboration. Abraham would say, it's co-creating at it's best! And that's what theatre is to me. I think that's why I want it to be my life. I'm directing the play Mud, by Maria Irene Fornes. If you haven't read it, I highly recommend it. I wish you all could see it. I hope you're all well.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
helpin'
Ady is a fabulous actress. She has played all kinds of roles, like Barb Tuggle. And she sang "Broadway Baby" in Follies as a child. Well, today, she is moving to the big scary city, and i am along for the ride. go me. upper body strength and strong feet. helpin'.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
35
Today I have been alive for exactly 35 years.
I think back 20 years to my 15th birthday... I remember the day for lots of reasons. It was on this day that I learned I had been cast as the "Teen Angel" in a production of Grease (my first ever solo in a musical). A psychotic high school friend of mine organized a surprise birthday party for me and assembled the most random, awkward group of people possible.... not to mention I was wearing acid washed jeans (clinging to the final days of the 80's)! I ate with my family at the Black Angus restaurant, which at the time was a birthday tradition for me ( the following year I would give up eating meat forever). It was also our neighborhood's annual, "Throw out your huge trash day", where people got to put stuff on the curb that was too big to go in the garbage can (furniture, etc...), and I found a nearly 8 foot tall wrought iron planter in the shape of a spiral staircase about a half block from home while out on a walk with friends. I carried it home and kept it for 15 years.
Why does today make me think about a birthday 20 years ago?... Not sure.... I guess because I like even numbers.
A lot has changed for me in 20 years. The world seems to have changed a lot too! I mean, some things never really change but it's definitely not 1989 anymore.
In another 20 years, I will be 55... which doesn't really seem old at all... Makes me feel like I've got time to breathe and appreciate all the superficial changes in life.
I don't feel like the person that I was at 15. Not really at all. I remember him and I love him and sometimes I wish I could have told him to take it easy and trust the universe, but ultimately he learned to and so... here I still am!
I wonder if me at 55 will think back to this day and feel a connection to the man I am right now. I wonder if me at 55 will view me today in the way that I view the 15 year old.... I hope in many ways that he will, because that will mean that I continued to allow myself to change, grow, explore and get rid of all the bullshit that comes up.
I'm learning that I like life!! I really, really do and I'm so glad that changing is just a matter of going with the flow... not forcing anything. It's all good!
Happy birthday to me!
-Clay
PS. I really like Erin's blog below. Very thought provoking! Read it.
I think back 20 years to my 15th birthday... I remember the day for lots of reasons. It was on this day that I learned I had been cast as the "Teen Angel" in a production of Grease (my first ever solo in a musical). A psychotic high school friend of mine organized a surprise birthday party for me and assembled the most random, awkward group of people possible.... not to mention I was wearing acid washed jeans (clinging to the final days of the 80's)! I ate with my family at the Black Angus restaurant, which at the time was a birthday tradition for me ( the following year I would give up eating meat forever). It was also our neighborhood's annual, "Throw out your huge trash day", where people got to put stuff on the curb that was too big to go in the garbage can (furniture, etc...), and I found a nearly 8 foot tall wrought iron planter in the shape of a spiral staircase about a half block from home while out on a walk with friends. I carried it home and kept it for 15 years.
Why does today make me think about a birthday 20 years ago?... Not sure.... I guess because I like even numbers.
A lot has changed for me in 20 years. The world seems to have changed a lot too! I mean, some things never really change but it's definitely not 1989 anymore.
In another 20 years, I will be 55... which doesn't really seem old at all... Makes me feel like I've got time to breathe and appreciate all the superficial changes in life.
I don't feel like the person that I was at 15. Not really at all. I remember him and I love him and sometimes I wish I could have told him to take it easy and trust the universe, but ultimately he learned to and so... here I still am!
I wonder if me at 55 will think back to this day and feel a connection to the man I am right now. I wonder if me at 55 will view me today in the way that I view the 15 year old.... I hope in many ways that he will, because that will mean that I continued to allow myself to change, grow, explore and get rid of all the bullshit that comes up.
I'm learning that I like life!! I really, really do and I'm so glad that changing is just a matter of going with the flow... not forcing anything. It's all good!
Happy birthday to me!
-Clay
PS. I really like Erin's blog below. Very thought provoking! Read it.
Monday, September 28, 2009
I touched a gun
Last Monday I forgot to do a blog. It's the first time that I've forgotten. I didn't realize I hadn't done one last week until yesterday. I think it is a symptom of the semester dragging me down into it's depths where the days no longer exist and the weeks become months in no time at all.
I've decided in the last few weeks that I really like Austin, and I've come to understand Texas in a way that wasn't possible with the giant Californian chip on my shoulder that I arrived here with. I've come to understand that everything that exists wants to be loved. And when you look at something to find it's faults you dishonor it. It is difficult at first to look at something like a redneck driving a monster truck and love it. But it's about focusing on things and giving them the benefit of the doubt. It feels really good to do it, because when you do you begin to look on yourself with love, and that is the best thing you could ever possibly do.
I was intensely irritated by the amount of seemingly gigantic trucks on the roads in Texas. it offended my west coast sensibilities and smacked of southern ignorance about fuel economy and the environment. But last week I saw one of the most amazing plays. It actually wasn't even a play, it was a workshop presentation of the second half of a musical by a company called the rude mechanicals. I love this company. They're young, and they take risks and they make fun interesting theatre. Anyway, their musical is called I've Never Been So Happy, and it's about the western way of life. It's got cowboys, cowgirls, mountain lions with German accents, and dachshunds. There is a song about what the west meant to people who came here to Texas, that it was a kind of freedom, and a symbol for living their life the way that they wanted to.
After the musical you went outside where they've set up different booths where you could interact with "the west". There was an outhouse that you went in and a man popped out from the toilet to scream foul language at you. There was western Karaoke, you could have your picture taken with cut outs of David Karesh and Bonny and Clyde. But my favorite was the "touch my gun" booth. You got to sit in the cab of a pick up truck and there was a man in the drivers seat that had a colt 45. he showed you that the gun wasn't loaded, and then asked if you wanted to hold it. I had never held a gun before, and so I took it from him. It was heavy. He encouraged me to pull the trigger. I was afraid at first, but I thought, when am I ever going to hold a gun again? So I pulled the trigger. I talked with the man about his truck and he said that he and his father had fixed it up, put in new vinyl, and things like that. It was at that moment that I understood about Texas trucks. They were a birthright. Passed down from generation to generation, and it bonded Texans together. It now made sense to me why there were so many, and why Texans love to drive them.
Now I can look at a truck and love it, because i think back to being in that pickup truck, sharing a moment with that man, who is an actor in the company, and doesn't really own a truck, and didn't fix that one up with his Dad, but all the same, I still love the moment I touched his gun.
I've decided in the last few weeks that I really like Austin, and I've come to understand Texas in a way that wasn't possible with the giant Californian chip on my shoulder that I arrived here with. I've come to understand that everything that exists wants to be loved. And when you look at something to find it's faults you dishonor it. It is difficult at first to look at something like a redneck driving a monster truck and love it. But it's about focusing on things and giving them the benefit of the doubt. It feels really good to do it, because when you do you begin to look on yourself with love, and that is the best thing you could ever possibly do.
I was intensely irritated by the amount of seemingly gigantic trucks on the roads in Texas. it offended my west coast sensibilities and smacked of southern ignorance about fuel economy and the environment. But last week I saw one of the most amazing plays. It actually wasn't even a play, it was a workshop presentation of the second half of a musical by a company called the rude mechanicals. I love this company. They're young, and they take risks and they make fun interesting theatre. Anyway, their musical is called I've Never Been So Happy, and it's about the western way of life. It's got cowboys, cowgirls, mountain lions with German accents, and dachshunds. There is a song about what the west meant to people who came here to Texas, that it was a kind of freedom, and a symbol for living their life the way that they wanted to.
After the musical you went outside where they've set up different booths where you could interact with "the west". There was an outhouse that you went in and a man popped out from the toilet to scream foul language at you. There was western Karaoke, you could have your picture taken with cut outs of David Karesh and Bonny and Clyde. But my favorite was the "touch my gun" booth. You got to sit in the cab of a pick up truck and there was a man in the drivers seat that had a colt 45. he showed you that the gun wasn't loaded, and then asked if you wanted to hold it. I had never held a gun before, and so I took it from him. It was heavy. He encouraged me to pull the trigger. I was afraid at first, but I thought, when am I ever going to hold a gun again? So I pulled the trigger. I talked with the man about his truck and he said that he and his father had fixed it up, put in new vinyl, and things like that. It was at that moment that I understood about Texas trucks. They were a birthright. Passed down from generation to generation, and it bonded Texans together. It now made sense to me why there were so many, and why Texans love to drive them.
Now I can look at a truck and love it, because i think back to being in that pickup truck, sharing a moment with that man, who is an actor in the company, and doesn't really own a truck, and didn't fix that one up with his Dad, but all the same, I still love the moment I touched his gun.
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