"I think many of us have an interrupted scene in our lives that we long to return to and finish. This unfinished scene is the sweet spot in our biographies, the place where we could break through the wall of normal miserable narrative to the heroic story we were too faint-hearted to continue. One must always be ready. The scene flashes by at unexpected moments. Quick, live!" - John Patrick Shanley
I quit my personal assistant job last week. what's the point of having a job that doesn't fit if you took it purely out of financial responsibility and you're not making enough money to be financially responsible? that's right that doesn't make any sense.
I start working at a broadway producer's office as an intern next monday. doing something I love and am actually good at.
hello world, I am back.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Thursday, September 03, 2009
past meet present
last night, I spent the evening immersed in my parent's past life.
I love thinking about people's past lives. on my wbar radio show "stunt casting" last fall, caroline and I would ask ten questions to our guest, and my favorite question was always about his or her "past life," the person that you used to be that may or may not be radically different from the person you are now but who crafted the person you are today. hearing about people's past lives can be hilarious, shocking, impressive, all of the above.
for example, I spent my high school career going to church twice a week for bible study and captaining the girl's water polo team. that person is unrecognizable to the friends and acquaintances who know me as a producer and theater kid.
so when I was invited to dinner with three of my parent's oldest and dearest friends, I couldn't bear to refuse the chance to glimpse into the cool period of their youth where monday nights meant singing drunkenly around a steinway, rehearsing for a cabaret that would never be performed. remembering your parents used to be people who weren't defined by their relationship to you makes them more likable. not that we don't love our parents (maybe not just out of obligation), but I love that they used to be people who lived for nights out and music and new york like I do.
as austin put it, "the apple clearly never even fell off the tree."
I love thinking about people's past lives. on my wbar radio show "stunt casting" last fall, caroline and I would ask ten questions to our guest, and my favorite question was always about his or her "past life," the person that you used to be that may or may not be radically different from the person you are now but who crafted the person you are today. hearing about people's past lives can be hilarious, shocking, impressive, all of the above.
for example, I spent my high school career going to church twice a week for bible study and captaining the girl's water polo team. that person is unrecognizable to the friends and acquaintances who know me as a producer and theater kid.
so when I was invited to dinner with three of my parent's oldest and dearest friends, I couldn't bear to refuse the chance to glimpse into the cool period of their youth where monday nights meant singing drunkenly around a steinway, rehearsing for a cabaret that would never be performed. remembering your parents used to be people who weren't defined by their relationship to you makes them more likable. not that we don't love our parents (maybe not just out of obligation), but I love that they used to be people who lived for nights out and music and new york like I do.
as austin put it, "the apple clearly never even fell off the tree."
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