May 1st!!! Who knew

Well.
I've been a little busy. A couple shows, moved from Barrie to my proper home in Niagara, and returned to the old "unemployment fallback": working on the farm and cutting grass (also getting requests for garden design work. Hmm, let me think about it).
I'm actually thankful for the break, since I'm artistically empty, and gives me a chance to think about what I'm doing in the theatre business, and more personal exploration.
But when I decide to get back to my blog, I'll be posting pictures of Squeep (the baby Canada goose the farm inherited), the two new fillies, the transformation at Pam's farm (so far) and any other little bits which may interest you. Or may not interest you.
And it will be soon, I promise. Just not right now, while I'm naked on the couch. Next to PRB playing video games.
XO

More Paradise

Day Three continued
Spent the rest of the day laying around on the beach? or around one of the pools?, getting the beginning of a burn (primarily on my nose). Had our first dinner (10 p.m. reservation) at one of the specialty restaurants, the Mexican one, where they tried with the food, but were more successful with the decorations and costumes. Spent some time at a bar over a pool, listening to a bingo caller at the little theatre. Watched some T.V. and to bed.

Day Four
Patrick was up early all week - left me to sleep late. Breakfast, then coffee at El Captain bar. Can't get over how genuine these people, the Dominicans, are. Simply open and direct, recognizing my poor attempt to speak Spanish (but at least I'm trying, unlike some of our fellow travellers). We've been tipping, always, since it is such a little thing to us, but means so much to them. And they talk to eachother about the tippers!
After breakfast, since it was rainy, we sat around El Captain reading and watching, enjoying the beauty of the world.
At noon or so we catch the bus to The Marinarium, where we took a boat out onto the water to snorkle on the reef. It hasn't been sunny, which is nice really, since you might as well be in the water if its going to rain. The boat holds around 70 people I guess. The reef is incredible, perhaps not a colourful as it would be on a sunny day, but an amazing number and variety of fish, coral, and numerous urchins (our guide was balancing them on his flippers for a closer look). Then we swim back toward the boat, were we enter a sea-water enclosure, and get to snorkle with SHARKS and STING RAYS! Nurse sharks, mind you, but at least 10 feet long - at one point, I was swimming along and a BIG grey shadow swam the opposite direction under me, the shark tail being last to pass. Cool. The sting rays were beautiful, some speckled, some plainer but quite large.
After swimming around, and ending up getting reasonably cold, we got back on the boat and had some rum, got a spanish lesson on rum (rum in Spanish is actually Vitaminas), and had more rum. We were taken to a natural pool, a very shallow section of the ocean not far from the beach, where we went swimming again. They even had a floating bar (a tray of drinks on a life preserver). It was again beautiful, the little cove surrounded by coconut palms in both directions.
Home to a warm shower, I think I took a nap, and then to the bar to read and have a warm up drink.
Dinner at 10 p.m. again, at the Japanese restaurant on the property this time, where Patrick and I both preferred the decoration over the food, though the food could pass for North American Japanese. Regardless, when you've been on the water all day, food is food. During dinner, a tropical storm brewed up, torrents of water sheeting off the roofs, filling the low spots throughout the property. Our walk to the room included a foot deep wade, the water still not absorbed.
Day Five
Since we have an excursion planned for the whole day, we get our one and only wake up call at 7 a.m. and head to breakfast. We get ourselves together and to the lobby to be pciked up and brought to Altos de Chavon, a recreation of a Tuscan village, about two hours south. As well, we would get a chance to visit caves with 5,000 year old picoglyphs. However, after dutifully waiting for our pickup, we inquire with one of the agents about the trip. Apparently, because of the rain over night and lack of interest in this excursion, it has been cancelled. Well, okay, off to El Captain to read and drink coffee, hoping the morning will clear up for another beach day.
We do end up at the beach, though slightly cloudy, and I end up burning quite nicely across the shoulders while snorkling around in our little piece of the sea (though we're only able to get about 20 meters out, there are some small pockets of coral with anenomes, a variety of fish, and common urchins).
Simple dinner here, more time spent at the bar, some reading and suffering with my sunburn (I was kicking off about 3000 BTU's that night). Bed.
Day Six
Our last full day. This is a Holy Day for the Domincans, so there are no excursions, but everything else seems to be happening. We plan a shade day, to keep from getting burnt any further, but shade is pretty hard to come by down here (the palm trees are so tall that the shade moves about twenty feet every hour). It's very busy, since everyone is here for the day, but we find a tree back from the crowd and get comfortable. Cervezas for me.
Patrick and I walk down the beach to check out how big the neighbouring hotel is, and it's huge! It's the Barcelo Resort, and must have at least 5,000 rooms. And is populated with lots of Americans, unlike ours which has a more International flavour (Italian, French, German, Canadian, and other Spanish countries). I like IFA, since it probably only has around 2,000 rooms.
Day Seven
Last day. Packing up our stuff and organizing for the flight immediately after breakfast. We check our bags, and head for the beach. It's hard to let such a beautiful place go, but we've both felt it has been a very complete holiday, very satisfying. The gorgeous sand and beaches, the hospitality of the people. Next trip will not be an all-inclusive, but will be with the people of the Dominican. Since we don't need to get on the bus until close to 6 p.m., we wander back to one of the pool areas and hang out there. Such a difference of atmosphere, music going, people packed so closely together. We decide we much prefer the beach.
Well, we start heading home, changing into plane clothes and SHOES! Patrick has a quiet melancholy about leaving, about the contrast in living, between the "tourists" and the locals.
We arrive to an airport in chaos, massive line ups for flights returning to various places. Our line is mercifully short, and we decide the luxury of business class was too good, and upgrade at the desk. We run into our flight comrades, The Kumars, who we shared time with on the flight down.
We arrive home in Toronto at 2:15 a.m., drive home, and crash.
Bliss.

Missing in Paradise

Well, a brief history of our trip to the Dominican so far.

Saturday, arrive Toronto airport, gave Scott the key to our house and car. Got our tickets from the Nolitours desk, no problem. Checked our luggage immediately. Went to Swiss Chalet to have a beer and food. Had to wait until 3:30 for boarding.
Upon boarding, posed the question of an upgrade to business class, since we're on our "togetherness break". We took our assigned seats, and were immediately invited to business class. Luxury, especially the leg room. But also the champagne and orange juice, the gin on the rocks, a better than average dinner, red wine, and scotch.
Arrive Dominican Republic, get through immigration, finally get our luggage (first on the plane, last off), and get bused through Punta Cana to our resort. Patrick and I are not generally resort people, but since this was quite last minute, we weren't picky. Met Anibal, a porter and security guard at the resort, who showed us to our room, and chatted up Patrick in Spanish (Anibal has relatives in Ontario). We got settled, and proceeded to the bar and ordered two cerveza. Followed by two rums on the rocks. And then a walk on the beach and a dipping of the toes, just to make sure it was real. Went to bed at a reasonable hour, only to hear the disco on the beach coming directly into our room. We did sleep, sliding doors closed. The end of Day One.

Day One.
We are both awake around 7:00 a.m., which is unusual for both of us. Breakfast buffet, bad coffee and off to the pool. It is Sunday, and we're both surprized construction is continuing on a new spa, even on the Sabbath. Lazy morning around the pool, waiting to book three excursions and dinners. Finally we get to speak to Martin, a French Canadian with delightful accent and Bambi lashes. We book our horseback riding for Monday afternoon through Caramel.
More pool time. Lunch buffet. To the beach (of course I missed a spot on my chest putting on sunblock - a little glowing patch below my neck) for the afternoon. Dinner buffet. More drinking that night. Bed and more disco.

Day Two
Since we are only here for a week, and we're interested in more than just sitting around on the beach, we booked a horseback trip. Knowing the economic situation, I figured the horses wouldn't be overfed bohemoths, but gaunt, slow-moving pack horses. Patrick and I spent the morning at a different pool (there are three on the property, not including the ocean), and then headed to the lobby after lunch to get picked up by the shuttle. We were barely three minutes away, went the driver hit one of the gates with the bus, causing an arguement, we turned around, talked to someone else, turned around again, and continued to pick up other people from different resorts. We only made one stop, and continued on our rather highspeed drive to the four-wheel drive and horse location. Patrick and I were the only people taking the horses, our fellow Canadians were taking the 4W offroad crazy trip. We felt that we saw a great amount of local life here on the island, as well as beautiful countryside and plantations. My little horse was decidedly the leader, despite my attempts to get her beside Patrick. And my butt is still sore from trying to post in a western saddle, which I've learned is just not done, since it hurts so much. We arrived at a beautiful beach, obviously not owned by a hotel, but a local beach. Being surrounded by Dominicans, not English or white people. Slow ride home. Slow bus home. Another cocktail. Long nap for me. Dinner at 10 p.m.

Day Three
Today Patrick and I slept a little later, had a leisurely breakfast, went to get some good coffee at the El Capitan bar, then headed to the beach, where we spent the whole day. Having some rum, doing a little email, and then a short nap. More by the end of the week.

MichaelXO

Day 19

I'll admit I've been rather quiet these past couple of weeks. Getting used to the drug, busy creating the next show, designing the show after that, and organizing a long-awaited togetherness break with Patrick (Dominican Republic - we were dreaming of Venice, but left it too late, and they hit high season when we're interested in going).

The drug: one of the side effects, especially when changing doses, is unusual tireness. I've never felt so low-energy, despite my improved mental state. Yes, this drug has effected my libido - much to my chagrin. However, my digestion has responded fine, I haven't lost my appetite, and I'm not losing weight. And I'm much more capable of dealing with my mental garbage than ever before, leaving me clear-headed to do my work. Now, if only I wasn't sleeping so much . . .

Things are moving along nicely for Moving Day. Though there are changes (to be expected with a new show) none have effected to overall vision of the show - just details and finessing, letting the peotic and magical quality of the writing and music come through.

Emily, the final show this year, is in a good place right now, but has budget restrictions which I have to deal with. A big show on a little budget? Definitely do-able, regardless of the challenge.
Real birch trees onstage, probably will upstage anything else I can do.

And the togetherness trip to Dominican - meaning "honeymoon", a word which is meaningless today (just received an email from "Restore Marriage Canada" yesterday, disturbing me to no end, since Patrick and I were married in September - don't they realize it's hear to stay?). Patrick and I finally have a week off together, something which will prove to be a rarity in the future, and we're taking the opportunity to get away, relax, enjoy ourselves and consummate our marriage (ha, ha). The official certificate just arrived in the mail. Very serious looking document, I'm told.

Mirthful moment today, as I picked up empty pill bottles from Shoppers Drug Mart: I was standing, waiting patiently as the kind woman behind the counter searched for lids to the bottles, when I glanced down at a patient information pad. The first item list read "patient is not on fire", forcing me to read it again. I thought, good god, what are they doing here if they are on fire?

It actually read "patient is not on file."
Laughter is good.

Day Nine

Started out a little edgy today - as though I drank too much coffee, but hadn't. I slept for twelve hours yesterday, starting around 6 p.m. Got up to eat something, went back to bed until getting up at seven this morning. Still sleepy, a side effect of the drug. Should wear off as my body gets used to the drug.

And cold - not only do we have heat issues up here (not only are we in Barrie, but the barn I work in NEVER gets warm, and the propane ran out at the beach-insert ironic comment here-house, leaving the baseboard heating to do all the work), but I can't take my scarf off. Slight whole body chill today. Appetite still good.

Mental situation very good. Managing to get things done (when awake), not being attacked with frustrating, false insecurities. Not as much "amused" with everything as before, but that's okay.

Libido did you say? Let me get back to you.

Did have a moment when I thought I forgot to take my pill - one of those "did I lock the front stove turn off the dog put the door out" thoughts - and let it go. Was pretty sure I had taken it.

Grey and windy.

It's all good.

Emily, a missing cell phone and day five

Had a design meeting for Emily yesterday, the final production here at Talk is Free Theatre. It's a big show, moves reasonably quickly and requires period costumes. Being directed by Richard Ouzounian and musical directed by Marek Norman (book & lyrics, music & orchestration respectively), at first I was a little intimidated, considering the resources available here and the place these two men hold in the Canadian theatre industry. Upon meeting them back in January, and this most recent meeting, I find both Richard and Marek charming, supportive men and quite willing to pare-down the show. I'm very interested to see the results of the production, since it will not likely be what everyone expects.

Left from Niagara this morning, later than I would have liked. Realized after driving for a half hour I had forgotten my cell phone. I usually place it on the passenger seat for quick pickup. I turned around and got back to the house, Patrick had already left for the gym and I searched around for the phone. I even called it, using Patrick's cell phone, to try to hear it ring. Nothing. I re-checked the car, in unusual places, and still came up empty. Decided I must have filed it deeper than ever, and drove away again (I'm sure the cats must think I'm crazy, walk around the house just looking at things). As I was driving through Queenston, I saw Patrick driving toward me. I pulled over and waited for him to pull behind me and got out. He was still in his bathrobe! He saw my phone, and raced off after me, trying to catch up. Said he got as far as Jordan before giving up. What determination and wonderfulness he is. I wish he drove a motorcycle, that would be a vision!

Day five of being on apo-paroxetine. I'm less sure of the real effects of the drug, vs. the imagined effects, the placebo effect (since I know I'm taking drugs, of course I feel better! - I'm not a hypocondriac, so I don't think that could be true, but perhaps just knowing I'm on the road . . .). I admitted to Michelle that everything was mildly amusing, as though I had a joke I wanted to tell. Perhaps just the beginnings of feeling better, re-learning to enjoy things. Don't take it for granted. I didn't even realize it was gone. Which might explain previous emotional experiences that didn't make sense.

Well, on we go. Spring is just around the corner.
XO

And now, the drugs.

Was I interested in getting your attention with the title? Well, perhaps, but I'm also trying to be truthful, open, honest. And unashamed. I'm on Apo-Paroxetine, as of Friday, to try to alleviate this depression/anxiety combo. There have been previous postings, where I discussed some reading I've been doing. And the books will continue. The drug is simply to FUNCTION, to get things done, and start fixing the mental garbage I've been carrying. I don't mind the baggage, I just wish the handles weren't all damaged, and every piece didn't have at least one broken wheel!

Basically, I'm trying to correct a lot of negative thinking patterns, confidence, etc., which have lead to feeling alone, empty, tired. Lack of interest in things which used to interest me, no interest in anything some days. But, on the scale of depression, this is mild, and I know it. I've experienced someone elses depression first hand, and mine is mild.

So, why the drug? After getting my blood work done, and everything came back totally normal and healthy (my first time, I was a blood-taking virgin - at 32! Very cool to see the colour and the amount that comes out of your body, and apparently I've got great veins for it), the doctor and I decided perhaps to try DRUGS. Such an negative connotation, being ON DRUGS. Like I need to BE DRUGGED. I'm only on 20 mg to start. And isn't everybody on something these days?

Like I said, the mental work is still primary. The drug is simply a respite, allowing clarity and energy, maybe to find some passion again (I'll readily admit, I've lost completely), find some interest in my work. Part of analyzing your life, simply listing things, you start seeing the good things, understanding that they are good. But the problem is BELIEVING these things are good, trusting the world, feeling judged . . . Even when you aren't being judged at all (or not nearly as harshly as you judge yourself). And I know my life is good, intellectually, rationally. Leave me a comment if you're interested in telling me about your life. But be genuine. I've been faking it for too long.

DRUGS. DRUGS. DRUGS.

Which will explain many upcoming postings. And the title, but not the address, is definitely going to change. I'm still thinking. Suggestions welcome, but I've already eliminated Designer on Drugs. Too temporary, since I hope to NOT be with the year. And many things may change. Designer on the Run?

Well, sketches to be completed for Monday.
I'll be fine. Just working some stuff out.
(And for those who REALLY know me, the actor and I are fabulous)

Love to all, be good to yourselves.

Moving Day - the next of the season at Talk is Free Theatre - is set on July 20, 1969, the night before the moon landing on July 21. Being a one-woman show, the world around her must lend itself to being both support AND character, supplying the audience with some understanding of place and psychology.

Sharon and her family are moving, again, to follow her husbands career - moving, something which has become an art for Sharon, among other creative pursuits. I've decided to surround her, create her house, with the moving boxes which contain all the family's possessions. Even the two man band will be initially hidden by boxes. And the boxes later become a city, little windows lit up, the Chrysler building, Empire State, apartments. Lots of fun. LOTS of boxes.

Just watched Patrick drive away, heading back to St. Jacobs. Hmm. What a transient life we lead. What a blessing the cats will be, filling the space with their own quiet energy. Something which feels so lovely to me, a warm, purring creature, willing to love and be loved, unintentionally distracting with simple needs.

Blog name-change soon.

Vagina Monologues 2006

Just returned home from The Vagina Monologues at the Fallsview Casino - a great show, despite interruptions from the security system announcing a possible fire. Cindy Williams, of Lavern and Shirley fame, and five other professional actors took the stage, performing to about 1,200 women - and a handful of men, Patrick and I included. Eve Ensler (and all the women who were interviewed) has given women a great, liberating gift. It is about time women's roles were expanded to include everything they are - beyond the traditional. Felt the design from last year was better - as PRB said if it broke . . .

Wonderful to spend some time at home. We've become cat-sitters to Maggie and Louis, a pair of long, smokey darlings, who are already helping to move the chi around.

I think I'm a RENT-head

Back when RENT was onstage in Toronto, a friend and I drove into T.O. to watch the show. We were a little late (parking, QEW) but got seated immediately. Even though I had missed the opening portion of the show, I was drawn in and loved every remaining minute. I didn't become enthralled enough to sit outside for hours on end waiting to see it again, but remember driving home in a euphoric state, knowing I had experienced a defining theatre moment.

I didn't avoid watching the movie last year, but missed it on my schedule and budget. Finally, after Patrick watch the film in St. Jacobs, I decided to rent the DVD, and sit back and enjoy it alone.

It was an amazing experience. I think I needed to see RENT right now, it confirmed so many things about being an artist, helping to understand part of the isolation and confusion, the emotional existence we lead. Not only is the film brightly crafted, and does incredible justice to the original, the medium allowed for a "filling in" of the missing pieces - the world, the history, the sensual existence of these people. Though it is definitely becoming a period piece, it still speaks to everyone equally.

Love today, live today.
Thank you Jonathon Larson

Photo shoot, Jann Arden and the Twilight Zone

Been at home, at Serenity, for almost two weeks, working, convalescing, but had to make an overnight trip to Barrie for two seminars. The first week was not particilarly productive, but I had a chance to entertain my parents, my grandmother and my sister, her husband and their three kids - all on the same night! I did a ham, something I'm quite good at, Mom brought chocolate mousse (awesome! as always), Sammy brought a great salad, and we did mashed potatoes and roasted beets and yams. A very earthy, homestyle dinner, warm and comforting. Lily and Max also had their first birthdays! I'm amazed at how dis-similar the twins have become - their personalities are strong already (no, not in our family?!). Had an opportunity to hang out with Pam as well, which was very healthy and enlightening.

Was at the library to pick up the Emily of New Moon series, and decided to check out the CD collection (NOTL library - not extensive), came across two Jann Arden CD's I've never heard, one with the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra, and a four CD collection of music from the Twilight Zone. Scott, you'll be interested to know I can't get enough of Jann, including her standup between songs. There are even certain songs which pull me away from what I'm doing, and especially now with my emotions all raw.
I had just watched Dial 'M' in St. Jacobs, and watch Vertigo on video. Imagine my surprize when music hinting at both starts piping through the stereo. Bernard Herrmann wrote for Alfred Hitchcock quite often, a genuinely gifted pairing. The music from the Twilight Zone covers four seasons, with a unusual collection of styles. If you get a chance, borrow it or buy it.

Three photos from the photo shoot - I had no idea the first would end up being so graphic, so Oedipus. The second was an accident, and the third is just saucy - being goofy, naked, being proud of my body. It's an interesting experience having the camera staring at you, forgetting the camera is staring at you. The use of the paint needs to be expanded, and needs to be in a large space - somewhere the paint can be thrown, spattered. This shoot was too controlled, too contained. Perhaps more to come. Patrick's photography website.

Must go, finishing a design today, stuff to do for the Vagina Monologues and back to Barrie for the weekend to tear down a set.

Be naked - we're born that way.

Snowflakes and Chaos

What is the real possibility for no two snowflakes being identical? Living in Barrie would suggest that even chaos would give up and repeat itself once in a while. It would be the search for the two identical snowflakes which would prove useless.

Not bothering with photographs today - there is as much snow in the air as on the ground. We have an icerink for a driveway at the Beach House, and the broken door (baby inside, mother outside, kicked in, still not repaired, not my responsibility) was blown open last night, allowing a small snow drift to accumulate in the kitchen. I don't know how long the door was open, but the furnace was certainly running for some time. And we've been told the previous propane fill up cost $1300.00! We're not paying for that, especially considering the amount of insulation in the Beach House.

Opening tonight - home Sunday.
Love to all.

Freezing Rain and First Preview

Woke up to a reasonable snowfall, followed by freezing rain, and now, just rain. Blegh. Had a seriously pissed-off moment in the parking lot at Walmart, of course, when a woman decided it wasenough to scrape her front and rear windows, but didn't bother to scrape the side one. Think maybe you might need to see out those windows, you idiot? Or that the side windows couldn't be nearly as bad as the front? Moron. After having cleaned my windows thoroughly FOUR times today, so that I didn't kill someone. Let it go, let it go, breathe, breathe, in with the good, out with the bad.

We've just hit intermission for "All You Ever Wanted To Know About Bad Theatre" here in Barrie - it is a show, despite the material we were handed at the beginning. Now it remains to be seen if the audience appreciates any of the humour contained within, which there is. Perhaps a bit vague at times, definitely some clown, but comedy none the less.

Been a bit grey and somber today - both climactically and emotionally. Just getting through to opening this show, and working on the next. I'm really excited to be working with Cathy Elliott on her new show Moving Day. 1969, first man on the moon, mother alone in an empty house surrounded by packed belongings, waiting for the moving men.

Still re-examining self, still enjoying the gym (a slightly dirty old man was hitting on me, very obviously, in the sauna tonight), enjoyed a brief listen to the CBC (Ma Brown, I thought of you, as a woman yodelling Mozart came on this afternoon - of course it was on Jurgen Gothe's programme!) and finished a show.

Spending a day in St. Jacobs to watch Dial M this Saturday. A little break before the next show.

And congrats to Jeffrey Buttle, winning the bronze for Canada tonight - he's a member of GoodLife here in Barrie, so we're close, doncha know.

Goodnight