Meeting at Gabrielle's apartment

Yesterday Chaela and I went to yoga. The new york yogis do not fuck around and my muscles were shaking in 5 minutes! I met Gabrielle in the afternoon. She lives a few blocks from Union square. She came shuffling down the long hall of her modern loft in her plush gold-flowered maroon slippers and wearing all black. I felt like a fat cow compared to her thin, gaunt frame. Her well styled black hair was pulled back into a bun. She told me that she had been reading my piece and that while it was a beautiful writing it was not theater. She also said that my character has no transformation and that people go to theater to be transformed. She said, “as of right now, this piece leaves me no room to direct.” Then she said, “you know if you don’t mind, let’s get right to work, ok?” She set me up on the couch and her assistant sat with us. She told me to just talk about the rape with no filter, no censor, as if I was telling it to a friend. So I did for 20 minutes, looking mostly at the director's assistant because I was so nervous. Gabrielle stopped me at some point and said, "ok, hon. You need to go and find your voice. I see the framework and you fill the frame with your voice. Not the voice of the dazed, disassociated woman in post traumatic shock that your original piece is written from. The voice of the Heather now. The feisty, transformed, vulnerable, humourous, woman who had the bravery and courage to write this piece." She gave me some suggestions of what that voice would sound like. She said either you can write it on your own or we can do this back and forth together. I told her I would think on which approach worked better for me. She gave me a hug and we agreed to be in touch.

I rushed home and changed into my most “New York” outfit ($20 bucks at Ross) to meet up with Jan and Suzette at their friend's brownstone on the upper east side. I came home and stayed up until 4am talking with my Chaela about my piece, about rapists, about what I'm trying to say, about how much I've changed since the last time I've written, about what the director wants me to do.

Today, I spoke with Gabrielle. She said, "Heather, I’ve thought about this arrangement of us working together. I think you need to just write on your own other wise I am going to take over. Not because I want to but because that’s just what will happen. So go to a coffee shop or to the park, you’re in a new city, that can often be good… and get to work. And keep it quick and short. Lots of lists. Humor. Terse. That is the voice I am looking for."

I cannot believe I am rewriting my piece. From the beginning. But here I go into the flow of writingland...

NYC baby

So I was very unprofessionally laid off from my teaching job a week ago so I have no job come this September. Awesome. Why not head to NYC and visit my good friend Chaela and hang out with Jan until she heads to Israel this summer. Suzette was also going to be in NYC and since the Jan and Suzette were going to be out of town for the summer, I figured it would be good to try and meet with both of them before they headed off and discuss next steps. Plus Gabrielle said she would meet with me while I was there. I flew standby and barely got on. The attendant had me waiting down the walkway with the rest of the plane boarded until the last second when I was rushed into business class. I arrived into JFK in the early AM today it was already 80 degrees. A girl in a tye-dye told me to take the train to Penn station. An hour later I was at my best friend Chaela’s boyfriends parents place on the upperwest side. I texted the director that I was in NYC and then passed out for 4 hours. When I got up I knew the exact place I wanted to be. The room filled with Monet’s waterlilies. Unfortunately, I picked the wrong museum and ended up at the MET. Still, the African/Oceanic Art collection was awe-inspiring. 75 foot slit gongs used for villages to communicate from island to island. It was also pride. There was a tranny give a tour. “So ladies and gentlemen, here is yet another modern art piece by yet another white man, are there any other kind?” Gabrielle called me and we agreed to meet on Monday afternoon the 25^th. Now I am really hot and jetlagged and need to get some sleep.

Pre-workshop jitters

Tomorrow is the workshop at Suzette's. I have been running through the show 3 times a day. I can do the piece in my sleep. It's nauseating to say my lines but they are so much more in my body than they were for March 17th.
Since Jan's workshop, there have been some exciting developments. There is a reputable documentarian who is interested in possibly creating a documentary about the progression of my piece from a victim to an activist point of view. She will be filming the June 4th workshop. I do not know this world at all but I trust her; she is a fellow Brandeis parent (a school I used to teach at) and a friend of Jan's. I am a bit intimidated at this audience but I keep having to remember that I am just telling my story, getting it out there, speaking up.

Chance Performance for Gabrielle Roth

Today I performed my piece for Gabrielle Roth. She is the creator 5 Rhythms, a dance practice that I've been doing for 8 years. My friends Lori Saltzman and Kathy Altman - who have been teaching her work since its inception - were telling her about my show. G said she was interested in seeing it. Lor and Kath called me yesterday and asked if I was available. I had a tech rehearsal scheduled for my upcoming show but I immediately rescheduled it and said, "Uh yeah! Just tell me when and where." I knew Gabrielle has been involved in the New York theater scene for most of her adult life so I was excited to get some feedback from her. My friends drove me to her small apartment in Mill Valley that she keeps year round. There was a trampoline in the shared yard. It couldn't have been a more perfect way for me to warm up and burn off some nerves. I performed for her while she hung out in her bed. Afterward, she, like most people who have seen my show, was appalled at how my rape had been handled. She said that the writing was well done but that it wasn't theatrical writing. She said that she would be in touch with her feedback but that she needed to think it through some more. Then she told me to come and lie on her bed with her. She gave me a hug and said, "I'm so sorry this happened to you, baby." I ran back to Lor and Kaths and printed her a copy of the script. My friends returned as well and said, "Heath,  She's interested in working with you if you can make it to New York this summer." I texted Gabrielle and said I was definitely interested. Oh man, if I can perform my piece for G, then I won't have any problem performing for the impressive list of invites on June 4th!

Bay to Breakers year 2

A year makes a little difference. Two years makes a lot of difference, especially with all the work on my story that I have been doing. Today I knew that I needed to stay out of the city. Period. I wanted to go over and hang out at Jan's but I didn't want to risk it at all. I stayed on the other side of the bridge. I went for a long walk around Phoenix lake. I had band practice.  We are trying to find a new drummer which is sooooo fun. Today the candidate was wearing those webbed toe shoes and talked about being big on meditation and toyota prius's. No matter how talented a musician, band dynamics and chemistry is everything. Needless to say, the search is still out.

Post-show partum

Ugh. I'm so drained. In so many ways. I got to the theater at 4:30. We started our dress rehearsal at 5. Maxx (lighting tech) and Edna (sound tech) both assured us that they were ready for a full run through with no stops. Afterall, they have had the script for three weeks and should know all their cues. We didn't even get through the first half of the piece because Edna and Maxx did not know their cues or lighting/sound levels AT all. At 6:15, when I finished warming up and went to change, my workshop director was still going over the cues. 15 minutes before the show I was running up and down stairs of the Phoenix theater to finish warming up. I ran all the way to the 8th floor of the building and did vocal warm-ups. There was a moment right before I went downstairs when I asked my mom (she passed when I was 17) for her help and guidance. I don't know if these kinds of things work but I guess I also just missed her and knew she would be proud of what I've done. I know it wasn't my best performance and it took me about 20 minutes to warm into the piece, plus I forgot lines here and there but I got a standing ovation! Everyone was so gracious. When the lights came up people just say in their seats and didn't move for 10 minutes. I debated whether or not to do a talkback but decided against it because I figured I would be too vulnerable to take feedback my first time performing. Maybe I should have? We struck the set and a group of us went out to dinner at a local Italian place. I asked my best friend Jessica to join us and she said she would meet us there. She showed up as everyone was leaving. I stayed over at Jan's. We drank whiskey until 4am and I broke down crying. She said that was normal given all my hard work and build-up for so long and that she wouldn't be surprised if I did that for awhile. The next day I went out to brunch with my workshop director. We were both exhausted. I could barely even talk about the show except to say that I was really disappointed with the lack of support I received from my best friend, Jessica. She wanted to "talk" with me about the show. I sensed that there was going to be some criticism from her in some way  I texted Jessica and told her that I needed a break from her for awhile.

Showtime distraction

Ok, there are 60 rsvps. My sister is flying in from DC.
We found a lighting designer who met with us on Wednesday to do the cues. He was very professional and we were in and out of the theater in 3 hours.
I have been rehearsing my blocking cues in the theater for an hour three days this past week.
And now I've finally reached the big day!!
 I woke up so nervous this morning that I literally passed out from anxiety. I woke up from a 3 hour nap and there was still 4 hours until call. So I went over to Jan and Alex's house for some distraction. Alex and I found some pink streamers and took turns wrapping each other up like mummies. Then we "un-mummied" each other and left a ratty pink shredded mess that I made Alex clean up. I just helped Jan load up the car with wine. And now I'm headed off to dress rehearsal and (aaaaaah!) the birth of my piece. I can't believe I'm finally here. Just hours away. I've worked my ass. Hours and hours and hours boil down to 70 minutes. I do have to remember, though, this is only the first time. So I will do my very best AND know that there will be plenty more performances in the future. The next time you'll hear from me, It will be post-show!