I look at your name
Highlighted on my cell phone
And I inhale, deeply

I breathe it-you in
You would think I would be
Accustomed to this longing

But
I am
Not

The wind pulls my hair
Over my eyes and blocks
My view of the ink

Across the plein air page
And you sit beside me
Watching from miles and miles away

I hear the God-sound in the trees
The train whistle in the wind
A Harley rumbling down the street

Emma breaks my idyllic scribing
With relentless complaining
A jay yelps as the setting sun

Pauses, to hold me in a long...
Gentle kiss and invites me to
Find my way home

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I feel like I am supposed
To write something
Catalog these moments somehow
These ticks of the clock
These calendar days marked with
rows of red "X"es across them

My fingers sit, on the keyboard
Life force which causes them to
Flutter kick upon the keys utters
A long, drawn out sigh and nothing
Just nothing eeks out of the void
.
.
.
.
.
.

Six
.
.
.
.
.
.

The number
.
.
.
.
.
.

Appears
.
.
.
.
.
.

Six months
(They type)
Have somehow, somehow
somehow?
Gone by.......

Weighted hands collapse
Into my lap embers crawl
Inside my arms, but still
My fingers don't move again

They don't want to recount
The flowers the music the wine
The gift-giving the story telling
The long breath filled silences
The candle-light... because
Six months feels
Like too
long
ago
.
.
.
.
.
.

Six

There is no need to
Wait for sleep tonight
It is settling in
Right underneath my
eyelids so I will simply
say.... good night.

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I drove down Union Avenue, crying. I think Union Avenue is the most frequent road for that way-too-common combination, tears-with-steering-wheel-in-hand. I am guessing it is because it is the road I drive to-and-from the theatre.

Hal recently said “Theatre may become your mistress, or like in Julie’s case, theatre may become a whole new life.”

He was right. On occasion that “new life” frustrates me into tears.

Most of the time I am in awe as I cry and drive.

Yesterday I was crying and driving because I allowed myself to realize I would be performing in a Shakespeare production for the first time this October as a part of the Kern Shakespeare Festival. Me! Speaking words scribed by William Shakespeare!

Sometimes I think the reason for my long hiatus from the stage was for this exact reason – so that I would really appreciate the wonder, the beauty of such happenings. Shakespeare! What a privilege this is!

I am writing this right before we begin Tech Week for the 20^th Annual One Act Festival at BCT.  This is going to be the most diverse One Act Festival ever. Three of the plays feature African American actors. Five of the plays feature what some people call “minorities” – I just call them “incredible artists who grace me with their time and talent.”

I am so proud to be a part of this project.

I have been watching “I Wait for Sleep” unfold with last Thursday being our best rehearsal yet. The women looked gorgeous, Pablo was perfect as our Man.  The music of Alasdair Fraser and Paul Machlis filled the space with exactly the right energy to accompany the words in the script which began as poetry I posted at Bakotopia due to a friendship that started right here, at Bakotopia.

Ah, yes. The tears are coming, again.

I was just
Feeling you, intensely
I wondered,
It was fleeting
"Should I call you?"

No. Need to
practice not
calling, not
vocally instantly
worldly
connecting

Mostly
I need
to
remember
hold
breathe
know
you
soulness
we
now
here....

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"Your words are my food, your breath my wine. You are everything to me."

Sarah Bernhardt

When I was a toddler, my father called me "Sarah Bernhardt", perhaps invoking the actor-who-was-to-be.

My Mother would go to church on Sunday morning - her one time away from her then-five-children, and I would bemoan her absence with deep, loud, mourning.

And as soon as she was gone from earshot... the car down our steep driveway, I would wipe away my tears and find something more interesting to occupy my time until she came back home.

My Mother was my everything back then - in exactly the beautiful way Bernhardt describes it.

I am watching "I Wait for sleep" unfold and I see the deeply romantic being that I am... and how much I have held that aspect of me at bay, thinking I was keeping it undercover. Ha!  My writing students would reflect "You are such a romantic, Julie!" but I never believed them.

I see my actors portraying the story I have lived and written and I realize, "Yes, I am a romantic"... and I see how just recently I lived these words from Sarah Bernhardt... and instead of feeling a sense of mourning because it has taken on a different form, I feel a sense of gratitude and aliveness... and appreciation for myself and the art I create as a result of the gratitude and aliveness.

Ahhhhhhhhhh, passion. So sweet.

I have been completely enjoying watching the unfolding of this entire One Act Festival.

The new actors, or actors new to the Community Theatre stage - to me, that is especially wondrous. Add to that the diversity within the cast and crew and it increases my enthusiasm. I can't help but feel like I want to tell the world to come, support these hard working folks.

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My friend, Leann, the owner of The Best Weddings.com said something that caught my attention the other day when we were talking about “Canvas: The 20^th Annual One Act Festival” at Bakersfield Community Theatre.

She said, “This really appeals to me… its like Short Attention Span Theatre.”

Wow. She has a point there.

“Yeah, you don’t have to sit there in agony if you don’t like one of the shows – you know it will soon be over and you will be onto the next show… “

Ofcourse, all of our shows excited and delight me.

I watched Michael Pawloski direct his cast in “The Script” the other night. I thought I was going to laugh myself right out of my seat.. and they are still polishing and adding.  Kendall Bruton is absolutely hilarious… each cast member brings something vibrant to the production and each person grows. Danvir, as a cowboy? Diana, struts herself in that infamous costume first used in “Play it Again, Sam” sort of a negligee.which will be used to compare all negligees… though the handcuffs are definitely an exclamation point.

Althea Williams brought her production to life last night – I loved listening to my dear friend direct.  So passionate, so visionary.  Her cast is “getting it” too, and looking at the canvases that are being painted added another dimension to the performances. Melvin Watkins completely embodied almost-has-been-Hollywood Director, Charles.  Maurice Pittman proved he has really worked to get off book.  Alexis Strong was great in her first Community Theatre gig as the femme fatale.

Leann is right – short attention span theatre with so much great stuff to choose from… and this is JUST the beginning….

Canvas, the 20^th Annual One Act Festival, opens on June 15 at Bakersfield Community Theatre. Call 831-8114 now to make your reservations.

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So, here I am.

June in Dana Point – the place I went to high school - means overcast, grey mornings “socked in by the fog” as my mother used to say.  June in Bakersfield usually means oppressive heat, vapors rising from asphalt to make mirages, puddles that can not be leaped into after all.

Today – the first Monday in June, 2007, I am recovering from a Theatre-filled weekend.

From the final two performances of “A Streetcar Named Desire” to working on the set for “Canvas: The 20^th Annual One Act Festival” at BCT to auditioning for the Kern Shakespeare Festival and The Music Man to rehearsing “I wait for sleep” and watching rehearsals for “Old Friends” and “The Script.”  Just reading all of this makes me want to crawl back into bed.

I loved working on the set, though. It was like my meditation for the weekend. And watching Fred work was pure poetry in paint.

I try, but my hand does most of the work....

Alas, it is also the beginning of Summer vacation so I am navigating the home front with frustrated children, including one I am sensing is about to send me an angry instant message.

Thus begins June, 2007.