Thursday, June 6, 2013

Trail of Hearts

   Tis an epic fail on my part to not have been posting every few days because at this point how do I possibly begin to describe the last five weeks. How can I even hope to begin? How do I give all the relationships -the beginnings, endings and more beginnings, the inside jokes that beget the whole new language of Zion, the moments of heartache and resurrection their fair due? It will be damn near impossible, but I owe it to myself, my readers and the memories themselves to give it my best effort.

    I always knew this trip was going to be 'big' but never did I anticipate the unfathomable number of gifts that were afforded me. As I mentioned in the previous post, the time and space leading up to it had a thick air of gravity, as in pregnant, which is perfect considering it was nine months from the time we heard about the Brighton Fringe to our arrivial. I kept trying to imagine any and all outcomes. If I'm being totally honest, primarily all having to do with the matter of some unfinished business with "Brighton" or as he would later come to be known, "The Kracken". As most of you know I had been consumed with little else for the last seven months. The energetic tentacles coiled around me were glaringly obvious to those closest to me, no matter what I might have said to deny it. Rochelle kept telling me that 'all will be revealed' so I played out an exhaustive myriad of possibilities to help prepare myself for anything. But when she said it wouldn't look like I expected (because it never does) I took it as a challenge and envisioned a hundred more variables. Even so, she was abso-fuckin-lutely right. It didn't fucking resemble even a fraction of what I'd entertained and rehearsed. As it turns out, despite all the pain I experienced we all owe a big Thank You to The Kracken or rather to the Universe for playing that hand on my behalf. It was he that told us about not only the Brighton Fringe, but also about the venue we ended up going with -The Lectern. I wasn't able to escape his grip because it was always meant to lead me to Brighton... to HoveActually where I found more love and joy than feels right to be given.
So thank you Ser Crisp. I wish you nothing but the best in all things. "Be bold and mighty forces will come to your aid." - Goethe

    Firstly, the Zion family gained a new member in Hugo aka Fragelstein aka Fragel Rock. Aka a brother I didn't know I'd been missing or was ever separated from and yet when he showed up at The Lectern that second day my heart recognized a piece of itself in a stunningly lanky 19yr old sporting glasses, a plaid button down, sweat pants, and Chuck Taylors. Without hesitation, I threw myself at him with a hug. He is a phenom; open hearted, honest, brilliant,  ridiculously talented, nurturing, and the funniest person I know! This poor kid is stuck with me from this point on. Sorry my luv! ...and you'd better not be eating or drinking anything sugary as you read this ;-) X
Even Chelle was Zionized into the fam for the week she was there. We had a blast, which is no surprise, but the gift there was a conversation that further infused our love and friendship... ok, our marriage :-)
    Each member of the Zion family officially fell in love with one another or at least I can safely say that I fell in love with each one of them. I feel closer to Rina, if that's even possible. I reconnected with Kevin, and became smitten with a girl in mismatching socks, Miss Ashley.... those fucking socks! and of course, Huuuuugooooo! We are five very different and distinct personalities, and yet it never ceased to amaze me how cohesive we were and how easily we lived together. During our waking hours of anywhere from 2pm-7am our house was constantly erupting in laughter.
    And lastly, our merry little band married into that of The Lectern and...... we lived happily ever after although it wasn't without a couple days of charming our way past that British reserve with some good ol American bravado or rather "Balls!" I will go so far as to say we will be missed, crazy bastards that we are. As Rob so poignantly stated on the bus one night as we were making a scene and scaring the kid next to us, "It's ok. They're American. You get used to it."Don't be surprised if I walk back through that door sooner rather than later to order an Ass-Balls, followed by a Zion, and a glass of waaa-ter.
The function room upstairs turned out to be the greatest space and set up imaginable for the show. There was a tiny stage that we used for Conversation of Chairs to get that intimate and uneasy feeling with the audience that is integral to the work. We used the main floor for the other 2 sections; Episodes and Another Tarantino Story. We even were able to use the bar in one of the Tarantino scenes. The audience seating was set in a bit of an alcove and made it feel like a real theater and not just the upstairs of a pub. The space was an entity all its own and became the 6th company member. The day we had to strike the set for the last time none of us could leave right away. We just sat there waiting till it had said goodbye to each of us.

    The best gift of family however was getting to celebrate the 70 brilliant years of the best mother ever with rental car and bus adventures, laughter, and matching tattoos. I wouldn't be where I am, living the life I do if it wasn't for her and having her in the audience 2 separate nights beaming love and applauding my achievements is inspiring and humbling. XO

    Now. For the sake of Rover/CC Bella honesty, I must confess that it wasn't ALL puppy dogs and rainbows...(pretty damn close though. ) I must admit to falling on some seriously black days after a heady cocktail of disillusion/resolution/rejection. Mere minutes after stumbling away slightly dazed and confused from the clutches of The Kracken (finally) I found a review in The Argus that panned my pieces, 'Converastion of Chairs'. I laughed at first at the timing thinking, "Really?... I mean, Reeaaally?!" I scolded and thanked Hugo for trying to protect me from finding it and then began to spiral downward slowly at first, then warpspeed down that rabbit hole.
I will be the first one to admit one of my worst flaws is how easily discouraged I can become when it comes to my art. I realize not everyone will like what I put out whether it's a painting, a poem, etc. I'm actually already well acquainted with that. This was something else, something worse. I was left feeling like I couldn't trust myself.... in life and in love and that broke me for about four days. I felt unbelievably foolish, lost and more alone than I ever have in my almost 33 years. Dramatic much? Ha! Mayhaps. But I was feeling, If I can't trust myself, I'm 50 shades of screwed... especially since I don't trust all that easily or all that many.
    The Kracken/Argus debacle happened on a Wednesday and by Saturday I was chin deep in what Rina affectionately refers to as the Abyss...waters still rising. She and Mark wanted to take me out to dinner, Kevin wanted me to come out with them and all I wanted to do was go to bed at all of 7 or 8pm. Rina was about to let me have my way when she asked me, "Ok. Is there anything I can do to help? What do you need?" And I replied with a dry laugh, "A sharp knife."
"Right. Get your fucking coat on. We're going to The Wick."
Barely showered, dressed in an unimpressive but comforting brown sweater and an 'all out of give a shit' attitude we set out for Thai food at The Wick Inn. I was buried in my phone reading a dissertation from Chelle honoring my courage to follow my heart to the bitter end but advising me to stop reading reviews and against men outside L.A. While reading and replying, a group of guys talking to Rina and Mark started pushing our tables together and I see a guy watching me on the my left. His friend comes over to chat me up but this dude came on to the wrong girl with the wrong agro approach, and I let him know it. I was in RARE form that night. Even Rina and Mark's eyes were wide with surprise at my fuck all attitude. This poor twat genuinely apologized and moved back to the other end of the tables. Somehow though this other guy wasn't fazed at all and managed to engage me in a conversation about the Seven Sisters lighthouse that I'd recently tried to find without success. Whilst in the bathroom, I would learn later, Rina would reiterate I was not in a good place and offer him the opportunity/challenge to turn that around. By the end of the night I was talking openly and laughing my way back to the surface. Enter TomGong, nicknamed for the text-tone on my old Crackberry turned UK mobile. Anyone that was charmed by me at my worst that first night earns another chance, i.e my number.
Anyone that can actually then 'show up' and earn a place among the Zions, especially my soul brother can stick around even longer...and he did. He has shown up every day since, and exceeded any and all expectations. I'd be lying (like a hairy egg) if I said there wasn't more to that story, but that's all I have to say about it for now.

    To recap, I spent the last five weeks in LOVE.... with friends old and new....with our show, with art....with life. I may have felt lost for those four days but even in my darkest hours the hearts continued to reveal themselves and led me onward filling me with a stronger sense of security and trust within myself. They are my guiding light and my legacy.

I wrote all this in my journal during my 11 hour flight home as I did not sleep at all, and I listened to this song obsessively on repeat which alternated betweeen making me feel better and worse as I nursed the weighty trifecta of gratitude, sadness and joy.....

"All of your flaws and all of my flaws
They lie there hand in hand.."

Love, Hugs, and other 'Drugs'