This is my very first blog

I think I may have visited this site everyday for the past month with the intention of sitting down to write something. Christine and Lucy keep asking when I'm going to contribute to the blog and since I'm new at this, the idea of my private thoughts out there for the world to read is a little intimidating. Which is strange thing for someone like me to say since I make my living putting my personal life on display for others to judge (although at least I've always been able to hide behind the facade of a "character"). I'm hoping that as I type today I'll begin to warm up to this blogging thing, much like I did the first time I sang karaoke. That was a bit daunting at first, but now you can't seem to get my big mouth off the mic. I'm quite satisfied with the notion of getting up in a room full of total strangers and singing (or screaming, if you will) my guts out.

But this is the interesting thing about being an artist, folks. Pouring your guts out on paper for the world to see is crucial to making good work. And if you're lucky, you'll somehow get a few people out there who actually get what you're trying to explore within yourself. I've done things throughout my career that I thought were absolutely too personal and embarrassing to put out to the world. I once wrote a piece where I was a geisha possessed by Satan. I performed it in some tiny theater in the middle of Texas where the ending number became this enormous ritual that consisted of me washing my mouth out with a toilet brush. And when the dust settled and the audience filed out, I'm standing there covered in ketchup and a makeshift kimono, this big redneck Texan strides up to me and whispers in my ear, "I thought I was the only one who felt that way." And he gripped my hand and pumped it up and down with real appreciation. We'd somehow connected on a deeper level beyond our outward identities.

"Diving Lessons" is kind of like that. It's about two polar opposites who have been given the opportunity to cast aside their entrenched outer personas and have a moment, even if fleeting, to see inside one another to their very core. There's no fear of consequence, no need to impress, it's just love at its purest.

You ever hear that Lou Reed song, "Perfect Day"? I can't think of a better mirror to hold up to this script. He says "You made me forget myself, I thought I was someone else, someone good." We all have those moments when time just stops when we're with another person and those moments are golden.

It's so hard to get to that place these days. We're so afraid.

I hope Jenny and Jim can keep it going.

I can sense a real magic between Shireen and Justin, the two actors playing the roles of Jenny and Jim. You always hear the phrase "born to play these roles" thrown around. In this case, it's so true. I've never heard anything I've written flow so easily from an actor's mouth as these lines do from them. They love performing these scenes. The air crackles around them. They glow! I can't wait to see where we'll go once the cameras are rolling. I just know they're going to deliver so much more.


The song has ended and it's someone else's turn at the mic. I'll put my name in the rotation for another turn at this blogging thing.