Before tomorrow arrives, and it becomes-- gasp!-- three months since I've posted in this blog, I'm getting a few words on here.
I auditioned for Gypsy Theatre Company's stage production of "The Dixie Swim Club"..... And I got cast. In a great role in this hilarious, yet poignant comedy from Jones/Hope/Wooten, the playwrights who penned "Dearly Beloved", and many other, what I'd term "Southern-centric" plays.
I was cast waaaay back in December, and then we began rehearsals in January. The Cast consists of five women, and the Artistic Director, Mercury (he goes by one name only), is a marvel at combining the physicality the play demands, along with providing precise direction to us in making the very witty banter we are given, clear. So far, it's been fabulous!
We had an "Author's Night" where all three playwrights joined us on Friday, February 10th, which also happened to be my fifth wedding anniversary. (More on that in a second).
The most thrilling aspect of doing live theatre is the incredible "communion" which occurs between the actors and the audience. It is immediate gratification, and it actually feeds the process of fleshing out the character-- the human being-- we (actors) are all focused on creating.
I play "Lexie Richards", and I get to go from age 44, to 49, to 54, to 77, during the course of the show. In fact, ALL of us women age in the show, because we are all swim team members who are seen on selected weekends as we reunite every August in North Carolina's Outer Banks.
I am blessed beyond belief to get to act alongside such incredibly talented women as Debi Tenyck Hamm, Carlene Archer, Tracy Lee Holden, and Danielle Gustaveson.( who is also the Producing/Managing Director of Gypsy Theatre Company, and Mercury's lovely wife)
The audiences have been very rapt in their attention, generous in their laughter and applause, and quiet when the moment asks for it.
The show runs two more weekends, at The Cumming Playhouse, and information is here:
Http://www.gypsytheatrecompany.biz
So, five years married. Hansoo Kwon and Lisa Nanette Allender have known each other for nearly 17 years, and we have worked to make our marriage stronger and better. I've learned patience, and God knows, Hansoo has learned patience.
Here's to many more years of health and happiness for us. We are grateful for loving family, kind, supportive friends, and great food and our duet of cooking/baking, novels, poetry, music, film and theatre for the creativity it inspires in both of us. And prayer.
Peace, kids.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Monday, November 14, 2011
The Unspoken Words Premiere, 11-11-11, Atlanta.
Friday night was like nothing I've ever experienced in my many years on planet Earth. Hansoo and I headed down after my full day of preparing myself physically, and mentally, for the Premiere of "Unspoken Words". Glancing at my gown(which, by 2:00 P.M., I'd already gotten dressed in), I asked for a 1970's style hairdo from talented hairstylist, Angie Brookmire, at Regis Salon, North Point. She did a "half-up, half-down" style that my sister Tina and I, used to beg my Mom--Demetra to fix our hair in, often lamenting when we were 8 and 13,respectively, "Mom, please fix our hair some-up-and-some-down?!"
Angie had colored and highlighted my hair only a couple of days before, but I stopped in for the styling, which meant literally--a half-up, half-down, off-the-face hairdo. Immediately after, I headed next door, to Macy's, and spoke with Lindsay at the Dior makeup counter.Lindsay prepped my face and applied light makeup; Julie did my (rather extravagant, but totally rockin')eyes. I was feeling comfortable in my Laundry gown, a hot pink number with a very Cher circa 1970's feel to it, which I'd picked up the night before, from Tootsie's boutique in the Around Lenox Shopping Center in Buckhead. I headed home, selected a faux-fur (very dear pal Dan Morrison had personally shopped for me, leaving several wraps of various fabrics and shades of silver, for me, from which to choose).
After much slow-moving traffic (Hansoo drove us--just he and I, down together.My dear Mom, Daddy, and Uncle, were in Mom's car.It turns out, all that annoing traffic was due to a Falcons game, going on in an adjacent area. Anytime there's heavy evening traffic in the ATL, it means (sigh) sports.)
As we approached the Georgia World Congress Center, I could see UNSPOKEN WORDS on the marquee.(!)
My only thought: So this is really, actually happening.That film we all worked so hard on, it's happening....
I asked Hansoo if he could drop me, as I was worried I'd be late (I'd spoken to our Director's girlfriend while I was getting my make-up done, and she'd said "There's a lot going on right now. Don't worry. You're alright."), and he agreed. He dropped me directly in front, and drove away to park our shiny, silver Mercedes ML 550(a large SUV, which he bought for transporting our large dogs, but that night, it looked luminous, and it made me feel glamorous, stepping out of this elegant vehicle).
As I stepped out, I looked up, holding the seam of my gown in my right, silver-gloved hand (the gloves were elbow-length, found-- by Dan Morrison--- at Eddie's Magic Trick Shop(!)), while the other silver-gloved hand held a structured vintage purse, courtesy my "Omma K." (courtesy my "Omma K."-my Korean Mother-in-Law).
And who, of all the nearly 1700 people present, should I see first?
Why, as I stepped as gingerly as possible down the stone steps that lead to the building, I heard "Hey, is that my 'mom'? Is that you? Wow, you look GORGEOUS!" It was Zeek Mayes, who plays Dante' Jordan, the young man who yearns to escape Benetha Evans' grasp in "Unspoken Words". Startled, and frankly, not able to see him well, I yelled, rather loudly, "Zeek? Oh, wow, is that YOU?!"
The hug that followed was one of those warm, I-love-ya-man hugs, and it was exactly what I needed, before the surreal-ness of the evening would begin....
The swirls of light focused on me, as I entered the Georgia World Congress Center's Building A, nearly blinded me.
As I entered the lobby, I noticed several people at various tables, and quietly made my way over, when suddenly, I heard several pop-pop-pops which startled me. I actually felt frightened, as the sound was reminiscent of gunshots. There were
people--men, women, young, old, professional, and people with cell-phones, aiming cameras at me. I actually glanced behind me, thinking someone important must be present, but no--they were aiming at me-- because they wanted pictures, of me?!
I felt like one of those whirling dervishes, as I had to keep moving, to prevent being stopped, and asked questions ("We'd like to ask you a few questions." "Hi, I'm
from Holywood Review, you're next, okay? We want to speak with you." "BET, hi, would you give us some time,please?")or requests, "Hey, will you sign my poster?" I started to laugh, because it was all so incredibly CRAZY. For heaven's sake, the film has not even been released, and this, uh, what is this??? Fortunately, I saw my hubby and assorted friends and family arrive pretty quickly, which meant I could run off and speak with loved ones, instead of strangers.
I ended up doing(I honestly cannot recall how many, 4, maybe 5?), and enjoying, the interview process, but the evening was getting later and later, and we still had not adjourned to the Sidney Marcus Auditorium for the pre-show of hip-hop music and dance performances, and poetry, though some poetry and dance was being performed on a small stage in the lobby. I cannot list all my friends without accidentally leaving someone out, but I will say the biggest chuckle of the evening came when my friend, Liliya arrived, with her husband, and I began to introduce her to my good friend, Julie.
I screamed out, "Oh, this is the woman who waxes me; she's great." I feel certain the peals of laughter rippling through the hundred or so friends and strangers
gathered around me, were happening because everyone must've been imagining and giggling about, this lovely tall blond Russian lady stripping me of my bikini-hair, or giving me a "Brazilian", but I was actually referring to her stellar skills in Brow and Face-waxing, as she had just performed those services a few days before.
(though she certainly is adept at the other lower-down stuff, too). That moment
helped me stay grounded, and seeing dear old USF pal, Derek (now Dr. Derek, DOC,located in Marietta/Smyrna/Vinings area) Conte', standing nearby,caused me to smile a big smile, that lasted nearly all night.
Derek was the guy that every girl in college adored: he was the strong, athletic, dark, edge-y, very Italian guy--from New York City-- no less, and he displayed his immense acting and singing talents in nearly every single piece of theatre our University produced.I had the extreme pleasure of working alongside him, in Jean Paul Sartre's No Exit, circa 1981 or 1982, in an Acting V Honors Class, with other distinguished actors from those years.... and just this past April, saw him for the first time since, at a Reunion of USF Theatre Graduates.
But I digress.
At about this time, I was being whisked away to see the auditorium where the screening would begin, and we were told there was "a power-outtage." Yikes...what did that mean? It's already nearly 8:30 PM,would the Premiere be delayed even more?
I was worried about my Daddy, and my Mom, and Uncle, all of whom I'd seen intermittently throughout the night, but as it grew more crowded, I saw less of them, which upset me.
I dashed out, against "orders" to stay put, to hold my hands up, and wave
everyone (I soon spotted most of my family and friends)over, and they soon filed in, with many others.One dear friend, Carole, exclaimed something about tickets, but I was being told (by organizers)at that moment,to come into the auditorium and I obeyed.I hope she can forgive me, whooshing past her; I felt incredibly flustered.
Once inside the Sidney Marcus Auditorium, I threw my silver faux-fur (I would NEVER wear real fur, ugh!)over a few seats, and then waved it frantically as I watched several attendees descend into the theatre, thinking I could catch my family and friend's attention, so they'd see me, and join me, in our "Special Section" for my peeps and me...
So, now we were all settled in, and I sat between Uncle Buddy and Hansoo, my dearest sweet grrrl, Ms.Coral McGhee sitting next to my Mom--Demetra, and my Daddy--John R., on the other side of her. Both in front of me, and behind me, dozens of friends who came to support me, and showed extreme patience in doing so. A few rows behind, Arthur (Hubby's little bro) and new gal, Erin, sat. And Hans's buddy, Jay (from Jacksonville), his gal-pal,Bunny,and Jay's parents, Harold and Barbara Alexander, from Greensboro, North Carolina.
We were treated to several hip-hop singers and dance numbers, both to warm us up for the film, and I suppose, to offer more entertainment in lieu of the Screening beginning on time, due to what was later called "technical glitches".
After hours of delay, there were prayers offered via gospel-like songs, in a fervent attempt, I believe, to move this Premiere, along.
When the film began, it began rather abruptly, and jarred us to attention.The sound quality was poor, making it difficult to discern every sentence, every word.
However, I found the story (remember, I had not seen the film, either!) very exciting. I loved seeing my name Lisa Nanette Allender up there (and am not embarrassed to admit it!), and enjoyed seeing the words fall away in a jumble as they left the screen.(I loved what Henderson did with the graphics)
The vast audience remnained calm, and very very supportive,as a series of technical problems threatened seeing the film in its' entirety.
Despite the poor sound quality, and numerous glitches where the screen would freeze on a particular shot (the first frozen shot was of me--Benetha--holding that shotgun.My goodness,it's surreal enough to see one's face a hundered times bigger than reality,but downright scary to see a shot like that, frozen-in-time. Great moment: my pal, Ellen's friend, Josh, seemed genuinely puzzled that the person frozen onscreen, was indeed, me, the woman he'd just met in the lobby.That was actually quite cool, not recognizing me,as her.), the audience appeared very engaged.
Several (8-9) of my own scenes did not appear, as the screen "froze", or simply
skipped, and I'm sure other scenes were missing too, but the ending still received much applause.
Filmmaker Henderson Maddox handled the challenges with aplomb and much class. The technical glitches, you can rest assured, will get resolved soon.
Henderson's even providing DVDs of the film (late next year) to those who purchased tickets, online.
As I headed out with family, several women and a few young men, stopped me to
to sign their posters.Several said they did not realize I was Benetha, and had to ask where the actress was, who played her.One woman said "I guess you gained weight for the role.You certainly went from Z, to A, honey. I'm looking at you right now, and this is 'A'." I responded, "Well, I ate half a bag of potato chips, and a half jar of olives, nearly every night we were shooting, because it puffs up your face, and ages you under the eyes. I also lifted weights for my arms, to make them look wiry and bigger, since Benetha would be stronger than I usually (personally) look." I loved that she said "Well, it worked. You were really scary. I loved your character, because I wanted to see more of her.I mean, she was dark, but I could not hate her; I mean, she's sick, but..." Her voice trailed off.
That was the best compliment someone could give me: she seemed at a loss to understand why, exactly, she could feel something for Benetha. Which made me feel, great.
Okay, so the Film Premiere, technically, was not perfect.
But, as my dear Pax Christi friends, Joe and Mary Jean, in a private e-mail later reminded me, these things never are. Perfect.
But for my first Film Premiere, surrounded by such love--my family,including Mom--Demetra, Daddy--John R., my Hubby--Hansoo, and Uncle Buddy, as well as my extended family of dear friends,a dedicated and hard-working filmmaker, Henderson Maddox, our crew and cast, and a strong, onscreen story that I felt myself being pulled into, it was close enough.
Peace, kids.
Angie had colored and highlighted my hair only a couple of days before, but I stopped in for the styling, which meant literally--a half-up, half-down, off-the-face hairdo. Immediately after, I headed next door, to Macy's, and spoke with Lindsay at the Dior makeup counter.Lindsay prepped my face and applied light makeup; Julie did my (rather extravagant, but totally rockin')eyes. I was feeling comfortable in my Laundry gown, a hot pink number with a very Cher circa 1970's feel to it, which I'd picked up the night before, from Tootsie's boutique in the Around Lenox Shopping Center in Buckhead. I headed home, selected a faux-fur (very dear pal Dan Morrison had personally shopped for me, leaving several wraps of various fabrics and shades of silver, for me, from which to choose).
After much slow-moving traffic (Hansoo drove us--just he and I, down together.My dear Mom, Daddy, and Uncle, were in Mom's car.It turns out, all that annoing traffic was due to a Falcons game, going on in an adjacent area. Anytime there's heavy evening traffic in the ATL, it means (sigh) sports.)
As we approached the Georgia World Congress Center, I could see UNSPOKEN WORDS on the marquee.(!)
My only thought: So this is really, actually happening.That film we all worked so hard on, it's happening....
I asked Hansoo if he could drop me, as I was worried I'd be late (I'd spoken to our Director's girlfriend while I was getting my make-up done, and she'd said "There's a lot going on right now. Don't worry. You're alright."), and he agreed. He dropped me directly in front, and drove away to park our shiny, silver Mercedes ML 550(a large SUV, which he bought for transporting our large dogs, but that night, it looked luminous, and it made me feel glamorous, stepping out of this elegant vehicle).
As I stepped out, I looked up, holding the seam of my gown in my right, silver-gloved hand (the gloves were elbow-length, found-- by Dan Morrison--- at Eddie's Magic Trick Shop(!)), while the other silver-gloved hand held a structured vintage purse, courtesy my "Omma K." (courtesy my "Omma K."-my Korean Mother-in-Law).
And who, of all the nearly 1700 people present, should I see first?
Why, as I stepped as gingerly as possible down the stone steps that lead to the building, I heard "Hey, is that my 'mom'? Is that you? Wow, you look GORGEOUS!" It was Zeek Mayes, who plays Dante' Jordan, the young man who yearns to escape Benetha Evans' grasp in "Unspoken Words". Startled, and frankly, not able to see him well, I yelled, rather loudly, "Zeek? Oh, wow, is that YOU?!"
The hug that followed was one of those warm, I-love-ya-man hugs, and it was exactly what I needed, before the surreal-ness of the evening would begin....
The swirls of light focused on me, as I entered the Georgia World Congress Center's Building A, nearly blinded me.
As I entered the lobby, I noticed several people at various tables, and quietly made my way over, when suddenly, I heard several pop-pop-pops which startled me. I actually felt frightened, as the sound was reminiscent of gunshots. There were
people--men, women, young, old, professional, and people with cell-phones, aiming cameras at me. I actually glanced behind me, thinking someone important must be present, but no--they were aiming at me-- because they wanted pictures, of me?!
I felt like one of those whirling dervishes, as I had to keep moving, to prevent being stopped, and asked questions ("We'd like to ask you a few questions." "Hi, I'm
from Holywood Review, you're next, okay? We want to speak with you." "BET, hi, would you give us some time,please?")or requests, "Hey, will you sign my poster?" I started to laugh, because it was all so incredibly CRAZY. For heaven's sake, the film has not even been released, and this, uh, what is this??? Fortunately, I saw my hubby and assorted friends and family arrive pretty quickly, which meant I could run off and speak with loved ones, instead of strangers.
I ended up doing(I honestly cannot recall how many, 4, maybe 5?), and enjoying, the interview process, but the evening was getting later and later, and we still had not adjourned to the Sidney Marcus Auditorium for the pre-show of hip-hop music and dance performances, and poetry, though some poetry and dance was being performed on a small stage in the lobby. I cannot list all my friends without accidentally leaving someone out, but I will say the biggest chuckle of the evening came when my friend, Liliya arrived, with her husband, and I began to introduce her to my good friend, Julie.
I screamed out, "Oh, this is the woman who waxes me; she's great." I feel certain the peals of laughter rippling through the hundred or so friends and strangers
gathered around me, were happening because everyone must've been imagining and giggling about, this lovely tall blond Russian lady stripping me of my bikini-hair, or giving me a "Brazilian", but I was actually referring to her stellar skills in Brow and Face-waxing, as she had just performed those services a few days before.
(though she certainly is adept at the other lower-down stuff, too). That moment
helped me stay grounded, and seeing dear old USF pal, Derek (now Dr. Derek, DOC,located in Marietta/Smyrna/Vinings area) Conte', standing nearby,caused me to smile a big smile, that lasted nearly all night.
Derek was the guy that every girl in college adored: he was the strong, athletic, dark, edge-y, very Italian guy--from New York City-- no less, and he displayed his immense acting and singing talents in nearly every single piece of theatre our University produced.I had the extreme pleasure of working alongside him, in Jean Paul Sartre's No Exit, circa 1981 or 1982, in an Acting V Honors Class, with other distinguished actors from those years.... and just this past April, saw him for the first time since, at a Reunion of USF Theatre Graduates.
But I digress.
At about this time, I was being whisked away to see the auditorium where the screening would begin, and we were told there was "a power-outtage." Yikes...what did that mean? It's already nearly 8:30 PM,would the Premiere be delayed even more?
I was worried about my Daddy, and my Mom, and Uncle, all of whom I'd seen intermittently throughout the night, but as it grew more crowded, I saw less of them, which upset me.
I dashed out, against "orders" to stay put, to hold my hands up, and wave
everyone (I soon spotted most of my family and friends)over, and they soon filed in, with many others.One dear friend, Carole, exclaimed something about tickets, but I was being told (by organizers)at that moment,to come into the auditorium and I obeyed.I hope she can forgive me, whooshing past her; I felt incredibly flustered.
Once inside the Sidney Marcus Auditorium, I threw my silver faux-fur (I would NEVER wear real fur, ugh!)over a few seats, and then waved it frantically as I watched several attendees descend into the theatre, thinking I could catch my family and friend's attention, so they'd see me, and join me, in our "Special Section" for my peeps and me...
So, now we were all settled in, and I sat between Uncle Buddy and Hansoo, my dearest sweet grrrl, Ms.Coral McGhee sitting next to my Mom--Demetra, and my Daddy--John R., on the other side of her. Both in front of me, and behind me, dozens of friends who came to support me, and showed extreme patience in doing so. A few rows behind, Arthur (Hubby's little bro) and new gal, Erin, sat. And Hans's buddy, Jay (from Jacksonville), his gal-pal,Bunny,and Jay's parents, Harold and Barbara Alexander, from Greensboro, North Carolina.
We were treated to several hip-hop singers and dance numbers, both to warm us up for the film, and I suppose, to offer more entertainment in lieu of the Screening beginning on time, due to what was later called "technical glitches".
After hours of delay, there were prayers offered via gospel-like songs, in a fervent attempt, I believe, to move this Premiere, along.
When the film began, it began rather abruptly, and jarred us to attention.The sound quality was poor, making it difficult to discern every sentence, every word.
However, I found the story (remember, I had not seen the film, either!) very exciting. I loved seeing my name Lisa Nanette Allender up there (and am not embarrassed to admit it!), and enjoyed seeing the words fall away in a jumble as they left the screen.(I loved what Henderson did with the graphics)
The vast audience remnained calm, and very very supportive,as a series of technical problems threatened seeing the film in its' entirety.
Despite the poor sound quality, and numerous glitches where the screen would freeze on a particular shot (the first frozen shot was of me--Benetha--holding that shotgun.My goodness,it's surreal enough to see one's face a hundered times bigger than reality,but downright scary to see a shot like that, frozen-in-time. Great moment: my pal, Ellen's friend, Josh, seemed genuinely puzzled that the person frozen onscreen, was indeed, me, the woman he'd just met in the lobby.That was actually quite cool, not recognizing me,as her.), the audience appeared very engaged.
Several (8-9) of my own scenes did not appear, as the screen "froze", or simply
skipped, and I'm sure other scenes were missing too, but the ending still received much applause.
Filmmaker Henderson Maddox handled the challenges with aplomb and much class. The technical glitches, you can rest assured, will get resolved soon.
Henderson's even providing DVDs of the film (late next year) to those who purchased tickets, online.
As I headed out with family, several women and a few young men, stopped me to
to sign their posters.Several said they did not realize I was Benetha, and had to ask where the actress was, who played her.One woman said "I guess you gained weight for the role.You certainly went from Z, to A, honey. I'm looking at you right now, and this is 'A'." I responded, "Well, I ate half a bag of potato chips, and a half jar of olives, nearly every night we were shooting, because it puffs up your face, and ages you under the eyes. I also lifted weights for my arms, to make them look wiry and bigger, since Benetha would be stronger than I usually (personally) look." I loved that she said "Well, it worked. You were really scary. I loved your character, because I wanted to see more of her.I mean, she was dark, but I could not hate her; I mean, she's sick, but..." Her voice trailed off.
That was the best compliment someone could give me: she seemed at a loss to understand why, exactly, she could feel something for Benetha. Which made me feel, great.
Okay, so the Film Premiere, technically, was not perfect.
But, as my dear Pax Christi friends, Joe and Mary Jean, in a private e-mail later reminded me, these things never are. Perfect.
But for my first Film Premiere, surrounded by such love--my family,including Mom--Demetra, Daddy--John R., my Hubby--Hansoo, and Uncle Buddy, as well as my extended family of dear friends,a dedicated and hard-working filmmaker, Henderson Maddox, our crew and cast, and a strong, onscreen story that I felt myself being pulled into, it was close enough.
Peace, kids.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Gratefulness, Joy, Love.
11-11-11. This configuration is not interesting simply because it is a palindrome, but because today, tah-dah!!!...or rather TONIGHT...is the long-awaited WORLD PREMIERE of award-winning filmmaker, Henderson Maddox's "Unspoken Words".
I was excited to audition, in August of 2010, and thrilled when I was asked to the call-backs, and was in tears when I learned so quickly that I was indeed cast...in a large supporting role that became a principal role: that of the troubled foster-mother, Benetha Evans.
The role was challenging on many, many levels. I keep thinking about my Yia-Yia, the mother of my mom, and a grandma who always believed I could achieve anything I wanted, if I focused on it and grew creatively. I've tried to do that, onstage, in this film, heck, even in life.
Both my parents are here for this, and I'm so incredibly grateful I have them both, here in-the-flesh, healthy, and able to be here to celebrate this film with me.
I've got a lot of catching up here to do, at this blog of mine. But for now, know I'm readying myself for one of the biggest nights (so far!) of my life: the reveal ( I have not seen the movie yet, myself!) of "Unspoken Words".
I have lots of family and friends here, and for those who could not be here, please I know I've felt your love, all through the years, and I will feel it tonight, too.
Updates coming soon on my new poetry series at Red Door Playhouse, the MODA event, a recap and updates on "Graphic Intervention", which was held a few weeks ago in Midtown, my Feature at the Sunday Poetry hosted by Kodac Harrison at Java Monkey Cafe',and a Poetry Seance held at Bound To Be Read Books and hosted by dear Franklin Abbott.
Think of me tonight, as the Red Carpet begins at 6:00, a music and poetry concert at 7:00, and the Screening at 8pm-ish, at the Georgia World Congress Center's Sidney Marcus Auditorium. Tickets are twenty bucks; there are only a few left.
Thank you again for lifting me up, emotionally, psychologically, mentally, artistically, intellectually, and spiritually. I love you.
Peace, kids.
I was excited to audition, in August of 2010, and thrilled when I was asked to the call-backs, and was in tears when I learned so quickly that I was indeed cast...in a large supporting role that became a principal role: that of the troubled foster-mother, Benetha Evans.
The role was challenging on many, many levels. I keep thinking about my Yia-Yia, the mother of my mom, and a grandma who always believed I could achieve anything I wanted, if I focused on it and grew creatively. I've tried to do that, onstage, in this film, heck, even in life.
Both my parents are here for this, and I'm so incredibly grateful I have them both, here in-the-flesh, healthy, and able to be here to celebrate this film with me.
I've got a lot of catching up here to do, at this blog of mine. But for now, know I'm readying myself for one of the biggest nights (so far!) of my life: the reveal ( I have not seen the movie yet, myself!) of "Unspoken Words".
I have lots of family and friends here, and for those who could not be here, please I know I've felt your love, all through the years, and I will feel it tonight, too.
Updates coming soon on my new poetry series at Red Door Playhouse, the MODA event, a recap and updates on "Graphic Intervention", which was held a few weeks ago in Midtown, my Feature at the Sunday Poetry hosted by Kodac Harrison at Java Monkey Cafe',and a Poetry Seance held at Bound To Be Read Books and hosted by dear Franklin Abbott.
Think of me tonight, as the Red Carpet begins at 6:00, a music and poetry concert at 7:00, and the Screening at 8pm-ish, at the Georgia World Congress Center's Sidney Marcus Auditorium. Tickets are twenty bucks; there are only a few left.
Thank you again for lifting me up, emotionally, psychologically, mentally, artistically, intellectually, and spiritually. I love you.
Peace, kids.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
GUEST EDITOR: Subtletea's David Herrle, on Depression.
I was struck by the potency of David Herrle's words which I discovered through his literary 'zine, Subtletea.
Here he is:
The stranded desert-islander doubts his eyes when he sees a ship growing and growing toward his lonely, wall-less prison but bursts instantly into tears when he realizes that he’s been found, he’s been seen, recognized as a soul in distress. No more reciting desperate poetry against the idle chatter of nighttime rainfall or the mindless sizzle of the surf.
This is how I felt when I listened to Dick Cavett read his New York Times columns on depression, both entitled “Smiling Through.” After years of butting heads with Stepfordians and their cold-steel pep talks, shaking my head through Pollyannas’ platitudes of the powers of positivity, wailing into the squall of the American Dream and prosperity gospels, I’d been found, seen, recognized. There is nothing lonelier than being surrounded by a crowd of cheerleading friends, family and strangers who swear by the potion Optimism and refuse to acknowledge the “black dog” gnashing at the door. “[I]f you’ve never had it you can never begin to imagine the depth of the ailment’s black despair,” Cavett said. And Kierkegaard slam dunks Cavett's layup here: "So when the happy person says, 'Cheer up,' to someone who is suffering from anxiety, this also implies, ‘Be happy as I am.'"
Hearing this, I wept. Found, seen, recognized! By one who, by Stepfordian Pollyannas’ standards, should have nothing about which to complain. He’d had and still has an illustrious, astute career! His elbows know the rub of the elbows of Brando, Groucho, Mailer, Joplin, Davis! He must be wealthy beyond our working-class imaginations! Cavett answers this ridiculous notion: “Another tip: Do not ask the victim what he has ‘to be depressed about.’ The malady doesn’t care if you’re broke and alone or successful and surrounded by a loving family. It does its democratic dirty work to your brain chemistry regardless of your ‘position.’”
Thank you, Mr. Cavett, thank you. You’ve articulated what I’ve been trying to say with a petrified tongue all these years. How can a paralytic mime his misery to inquisitive others? How can a man who is expected to “be a man” admit that he feels lower than crustaceans? How does one who inhales nothing but darkness speak the light? These questions are the only things not too heavy to rise when mired in the selfsame melancholy that socked Bogart in the jaw, that strove to break President Lincoln and did break Hunter S. Thompson.
In my personal experience with this perpetually dropping anvil, a specific reason is nowhere to be found. I'm a (scrawny) Atlas bending under an unseen burden. "Reflection never snares so unfailingly as when it fashions itself out of nothing," says Kierkegaard. (I think that applies here, but one can never be sure about Captain Kierk's spiels.) Of course, I don't fantasize about casting off the burden and floating into a tranquil, blissful ether. Like Huxley's Savage, I claim the right to be unhappy. Kierkegaard also warns that despair flourishes in illusory happiness. But I don't deny the spirit, which is what you claim births "the sickness unto death," my favorite Dane (next to Hamlet), so why do I feel like despair's boot boy?
Depression is a killer that often doesn’t kill its victims. And though the victims themselves may contemplate taking their lives into their own hands (only to toss it out of them), they tend to shilly-shally on the way to the exit (Cavett makes the point that depressives on the mend tend to off themselves more than rock-bottom ones do), only to resign themselves to sitting at the threshold of death like Kafka’s man before the Door of the Law.
While I've never made it to that level of despair, and I know the sweet assault of true Joy (calculate Beethoven's Ninth times infinity), knowing that I’m not alone in the struggle when that tenacious imp intrudes, that an astute gent such as Mr. Cavett is brave enough to share his shadows, is a giant leap for me and glumkind.
Found, seen, recognized.
Thank you, David Herrle.
Peace, kids.
Here he is:
The stranded desert-islander doubts his eyes when he sees a ship growing and growing toward his lonely, wall-less prison but bursts instantly into tears when he realizes that he’s been found, he’s been seen, recognized as a soul in distress. No more reciting desperate poetry against the idle chatter of nighttime rainfall or the mindless sizzle of the surf.
This is how I felt when I listened to Dick Cavett read his New York Times columns on depression, both entitled “Smiling Through.” After years of butting heads with Stepfordians and their cold-steel pep talks, shaking my head through Pollyannas’ platitudes of the powers of positivity, wailing into the squall of the American Dream and prosperity gospels, I’d been found, seen, recognized. There is nothing lonelier than being surrounded by a crowd of cheerleading friends, family and strangers who swear by the potion Optimism and refuse to acknowledge the “black dog” gnashing at the door. “[I]f you’ve never had it you can never begin to imagine the depth of the ailment’s black despair,” Cavett said. And Kierkegaard slam dunks Cavett's layup here: "So when the happy person says, 'Cheer up,' to someone who is suffering from anxiety, this also implies, ‘Be happy as I am.'"
Hearing this, I wept. Found, seen, recognized! By one who, by Stepfordian Pollyannas’ standards, should have nothing about which to complain. He’d had and still has an illustrious, astute career! His elbows know the rub of the elbows of Brando, Groucho, Mailer, Joplin, Davis! He must be wealthy beyond our working-class imaginations! Cavett answers this ridiculous notion: “Another tip: Do not ask the victim what he has ‘to be depressed about.’ The malady doesn’t care if you’re broke and alone or successful and surrounded by a loving family. It does its democratic dirty work to your brain chemistry regardless of your ‘position.’”
Thank you, Mr. Cavett, thank you. You’ve articulated what I’ve been trying to say with a petrified tongue all these years. How can a paralytic mime his misery to inquisitive others? How can a man who is expected to “be a man” admit that he feels lower than crustaceans? How does one who inhales nothing but darkness speak the light? These questions are the only things not too heavy to rise when mired in the selfsame melancholy that socked Bogart in the jaw, that strove to break President Lincoln and did break Hunter S. Thompson.
In my personal experience with this perpetually dropping anvil, a specific reason is nowhere to be found. I'm a (scrawny) Atlas bending under an unseen burden. "Reflection never snares so unfailingly as when it fashions itself out of nothing," says Kierkegaard. (I think that applies here, but one can never be sure about Captain Kierk's spiels.) Of course, I don't fantasize about casting off the burden and floating into a tranquil, blissful ether. Like Huxley's Savage, I claim the right to be unhappy. Kierkegaard also warns that despair flourishes in illusory happiness. But I don't deny the spirit, which is what you claim births "the sickness unto death," my favorite Dane (next to Hamlet), so why do I feel like despair's boot boy?
Depression is a killer that often doesn’t kill its victims. And though the victims themselves may contemplate taking their lives into their own hands (only to toss it out of them), they tend to shilly-shally on the way to the exit (Cavett makes the point that depressives on the mend tend to off themselves more than rock-bottom ones do), only to resign themselves to sitting at the threshold of death like Kafka’s man before the Door of the Law.
While I've never made it to that level of despair, and I know the sweet assault of true Joy (calculate Beethoven's Ninth times infinity), knowing that I’m not alone in the struggle when that tenacious imp intrudes, that an astute gent such as Mr. Cavett is brave enough to share his shadows, is a giant leap for me and glumkind.
Found, seen, recognized.
Thank you, David Herrle.
Peace, kids.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
UPDATES.
UPCOMING POSTS:
*A new post from a guest-editor, David Herrle.
Then,from me:
*A rant, on the injustice suffered by Mr. Troy A. Davis, recently executed by The State of Georgia.
*A recent vacation with my beloved has me rested, and ready to write...and ready to actually SUBMIT some new work, too!
*"Lisa's Second Sundays Featured Author and Open Mic" will begin on October 9th, at 4:00 P.M., at Red Door Playhouse, in Roswell, Georgia, Featuring Poet Amy Pence.The official Film-Trailer for "Unspoken Words" will be seen, too!
*A happy update on "Unspoken Words", the feature-film in which I play Benetha, directed by award-winning filmmaker, Henderson Maddox.Film PREMIERES in Atlanta on 11-11-11.
Hit my FB Wall now, and scroll down to see the Official Posters for the Film!!!
Please be patient with me in updating all this, and....
Peace, kids.
*A new post from a guest-editor, David Herrle.
Then,from me:
*A rant, on the injustice suffered by Mr. Troy A. Davis, recently executed by The State of Georgia.
*A recent vacation with my beloved has me rested, and ready to write...and ready to actually SUBMIT some new work, too!
*"Lisa's Second Sundays Featured Author and Open Mic" will begin on October 9th, at 4:00 P.M., at Red Door Playhouse, in Roswell, Georgia, Featuring Poet Amy Pence.The official Film-Trailer for "Unspoken Words" will be seen, too!
*A happy update on "Unspoken Words", the feature-film in which I play Benetha, directed by award-winning filmmaker, Henderson Maddox.Film PREMIERES in Atlanta on 11-11-11.
Hit my FB Wall now, and scroll down to see the Official Posters for the Film!!!
Please be patient with me in updating all this, and....
Peace, kids.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Prayer:Peace in my personal life;growth in my professional life.
Where to begin?
In the past two months, lots happening, so let me get to it.
Update on "Unspoken Words": We shot more scenes, several of them, just two Saturdays ago, including some newly-written scenes designed, most likely, to expand Ms. Robin Givens' small-but-now-crucial-role as the social worker, Ms. Lewis. The added scenes gave me more lines as well, and of course, I was thrilled to meet and get to work with Robin, and found her to be kind and professional. She was great at improvising lines and working with both the award-winning director, Henderson Maddox, and I, in deciding how our fight(Ms. Lewis confronting Benetha Evans(me)) would play out. Big hugs to Troy Farouk, the stellar fight choreographer (and weapons-specialist:I use a Mossberg 590 shotgun in another part of the film) who made sure Robin and I played "safely".
I'm verrrry excited about the film's PREMIERE, here in Atlanta.It is scheduled for 11-11-11, and I would like to invite you all, to come see it.I cannot, of course, provide tickets, but tickets will not be expensive, and that evening, there will be several showings of "Unspoken Words".
I do want to warn everyone, the role I have is that of a violent foster-mother, and the film itself has several edge-y scenes.Because of the intensity of several scenes, I don't think I'd recommend it for children under 13.That said, the story will be appealing to teens, and if I were given ten seconds to describe it, it would be as follows:
Sixteen-year-old Dante' escapes from an abusive foster-mother, and heads to Atlanta to ostensibly find fame and fortune in rap music, but instead discovers poetry and spoken word, and a sense of family, and faith.
That's not an official "blurb" for the film, just my own short synopsis of the (original) script.
It was a great experience, discovering the medium of film, all over again. I once said "Gee, the process IS the process", when discussing film with stage actors.What I mean is, in theatre, you study, memorize, and create the biography/inner narrative to build your character, and then, in rehearsal, you hone your character (using the magic "if", as in, "If I were this chartacter, in this situation, what would I do?")until she feels "valid". You physicalize her needs, by asking, "What does she want, need, hope for, dream of?" Then you hope each night, to reproduce what you learned, as if it's happening, for the first time. In film, you do all those things, exactly as you do for the theatre, except that those discoveries are made, while you are filming.The process itself, creates the process.Of course, onstage, you get only one chance, each night, to get it, to make it your own. In film, you may get several "chances" (takes) but you cannot truthfully "own" the result: I think that is up to the director, editor, cinematographer, and sound-mixers. I trust director Henderson Maddox, as he embraced every suggestion I made. When I suggested graphic, he said yes, and yet, he reigned me in, with what I'd deem "tender". When I wanted gentle interaction, he'd ask me to fight. We balanced each other, in terms of "action".
I also worked on Atlanta filmmaker, Reggie Price's "Just Us", the short-film I'll be given a copy of, soon, which means I will now have a variety of pieces to weave into my professional acting "reel" for my agent. In "Just Us", I play Ruth Eleanor Caldwell, a mother who becomes addicted to heroin, and abandons her children. The three girls must survive on their own. My pivotal scenes are those of scoring heroin with my dealer, and the scene in which I die in my eldest daughter's arms.
Since the terrible automobile accident of May 23rd, my Mother-in-Law, "Omma K." is healing up well, and has been through some really rough trials,including multiple surgeries, first for her spine, and then for her broken right shoulder and arm. "Appa K", my Father-in-Law is doing well, but of course has concerns for his wife.
We are grateful for little Morgan Catherine Kwon, daughter of Toni Harris Kwon, and Arthur Kwon(my hubby's bro);she is about to be one-year-old, on September 21st. You may recall, if you follow this blog, that we lost Toni last year, on October 14th. She died suddenly and unexpectedly, shortly(about three weeks) after giving birth to Morgan Catherine.She died from Stage 4 gastrointestinal cancer, of unknown origin.
Please do keep us in your thoughts, and yes, prayers.
May G-d Bless You All.
I am studying Judaism currently, hence my abbreviation for G-d.
Peace, kids.
In the past two months, lots happening, so let me get to it.
Update on "Unspoken Words": We shot more scenes, several of them, just two Saturdays ago, including some newly-written scenes designed, most likely, to expand Ms. Robin Givens' small-but-now-crucial-role as the social worker, Ms. Lewis. The added scenes gave me more lines as well, and of course, I was thrilled to meet and get to work with Robin, and found her to be kind and professional. She was great at improvising lines and working with both the award-winning director, Henderson Maddox, and I, in deciding how our fight(Ms. Lewis confronting Benetha Evans(me)) would play out. Big hugs to Troy Farouk, the stellar fight choreographer (and weapons-specialist:I use a Mossberg 590 shotgun in another part of the film) who made sure Robin and I played "safely".
I'm verrrry excited about the film's PREMIERE, here in Atlanta.It is scheduled for 11-11-11, and I would like to invite you all, to come see it.I cannot, of course, provide tickets, but tickets will not be expensive, and that evening, there will be several showings of "Unspoken Words".
I do want to warn everyone, the role I have is that of a violent foster-mother, and the film itself has several edge-y scenes.Because of the intensity of several scenes, I don't think I'd recommend it for children under 13.That said, the story will be appealing to teens, and if I were given ten seconds to describe it, it would be as follows:
Sixteen-year-old Dante' escapes from an abusive foster-mother, and heads to Atlanta to ostensibly find fame and fortune in rap music, but instead discovers poetry and spoken word, and a sense of family, and faith.
That's not an official "blurb" for the film, just my own short synopsis of the (original) script.
It was a great experience, discovering the medium of film, all over again. I once said "Gee, the process IS the process", when discussing film with stage actors.What I mean is, in theatre, you study, memorize, and create the biography/inner narrative to build your character, and then, in rehearsal, you hone your character (using the magic "if", as in, "If I were this chartacter, in this situation, what would I do?")until she feels "valid". You physicalize her needs, by asking, "What does she want, need, hope for, dream of?" Then you hope each night, to reproduce what you learned, as if it's happening, for the first time. In film, you do all those things, exactly as you do for the theatre, except that those discoveries are made, while you are filming.The process itself, creates the process.Of course, onstage, you get only one chance, each night, to get it, to make it your own. In film, you may get several "chances" (takes) but you cannot truthfully "own" the result: I think that is up to the director, editor, cinematographer, and sound-mixers. I trust director Henderson Maddox, as he embraced every suggestion I made. When I suggested graphic, he said yes, and yet, he reigned me in, with what I'd deem "tender". When I wanted gentle interaction, he'd ask me to fight. We balanced each other, in terms of "action".
I also worked on Atlanta filmmaker, Reggie Price's "Just Us", the short-film I'll be given a copy of, soon, which means I will now have a variety of pieces to weave into my professional acting "reel" for my agent. In "Just Us", I play Ruth Eleanor Caldwell, a mother who becomes addicted to heroin, and abandons her children. The three girls must survive on their own. My pivotal scenes are those of scoring heroin with my dealer, and the scene in which I die in my eldest daughter's arms.
Since the terrible automobile accident of May 23rd, my Mother-in-Law, "Omma K." is healing up well, and has been through some really rough trials,including multiple surgeries, first for her spine, and then for her broken right shoulder and arm. "Appa K", my Father-in-Law is doing well, but of course has concerns for his wife.
We are grateful for little Morgan Catherine Kwon, daughter of Toni Harris Kwon, and Arthur Kwon(my hubby's bro);she is about to be one-year-old, on September 21st. You may recall, if you follow this blog, that we lost Toni last year, on October 14th. She died suddenly and unexpectedly, shortly(about three weeks) after giving birth to Morgan Catherine.She died from Stage 4 gastrointestinal cancer, of unknown origin.
Please do keep us in your thoughts, and yes, prayers.
May G-d Bless You All.
I am studying Judaism currently, hence my abbreviation for G-d.
Peace, kids.
Sunday, August 07, 2011
Andrew Pope, of Lawrenceville, Georgia.Guest Editor.
It's been a long time since I posted here at Lisa Allender Writes, but today, Sunday, August 7th, I'm going to be posting from a dear friend's Facebook Notes. My ol' pal, Andrew Pope posted recently about a renewed sense of appreciation, and I think it bears posting here. Below,enjoy kids.
From Andrew Pope, posted on his FB Wall, July 22nd, 2011.
Don't Wait.
I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting since our Australian Sheppard “Jazzy” was diagnosed with lymphoma. We have all shed a few tears and have done a lot of reminiscing since the diagnosis. After discussing it as a family, we decided to do the emotionally driven, illogical thing and go for the chemotherapy treatments. Jazzy is doing well and the lymphoma is in complete remission even with a few months left of her treatments to go. She’s back to tugging my arm to chase squirrels (though not with quite as much gusto) as well as herding the kids as they run around the house and games of tug o war when she’s feeling up to it.
As painful as it has been for the kids (and Bonnie and I), I think we made the right choice even though it is so completely out of character for us to let emotions rule over logic, rationality and fiscal responsibility. Y’see, they can’t kill the cancer (that was not listed as even a possibility); they can only drive it back a bit to give us more time to say goodbye. And we’re willing to accept that as a gift.
The silver lining to the whole situation is this: I have noticed that all of us are much less likely to wave her off when she comes looking for attention or the plain ‘ol expression of love that a dog gets from petting. We've all become even more sensitive to these needs on her treatment days – when her need for the confirmation of our love of her seems to multiply tenfold. It has made us stop taking her for granted; to appreciate her like we did when we first got her from the dog rescue organization. We've returned to treating her like we ought to all treat our loved ones all the time. I will get down on the floor and pet her for extended periods of time. I am less likely to tug her along when she stops overlong (for what I often feel is a ridiculous amount of time) sniffing this or that indiscriminate spot along our walk route. We’re all playing with her more and pampering her more. We’re even letting her on furniture that used to be off limits. We’re appreciating her more…
It struck me recently how much better off we’d all be if we thought (realized) that there is only a finite amount of time that we have with ALL our loved ones. I’ve begun calling my parents more, just to check in with them. I’m concentrating on staying in touch more with friends and loved ones and trying to reconnect with ones that have become distant. . I’m trying to please my wife more and lift up my kids more that I used to. I’m tying to appreciate them more…
Did you think of someone there? Someone that you think you’ve perhaps started to take for granted? Whether you have or not isn’t important. The fact that you think you may have is enough. Give that someone (at least the first one you thought of) a call. Let them know how you feel. Appreciate them for what they are in your life; a blessing.
Here endeth the sermon.
Thank you, Andrew, for the (uplifting) reminder.Sunday feels like a good day to post this.
Peace, kids.
From Andrew Pope, posted on his FB Wall, July 22nd, 2011.
Don't Wait.
I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting since our Australian Sheppard “Jazzy” was diagnosed with lymphoma. We have all shed a few tears and have done a lot of reminiscing since the diagnosis. After discussing it as a family, we decided to do the emotionally driven, illogical thing and go for the chemotherapy treatments. Jazzy is doing well and the lymphoma is in complete remission even with a few months left of her treatments to go. She’s back to tugging my arm to chase squirrels (though not with quite as much gusto) as well as herding the kids as they run around the house and games of tug o war when she’s feeling up to it.
As painful as it has been for the kids (and Bonnie and I), I think we made the right choice even though it is so completely out of character for us to let emotions rule over logic, rationality and fiscal responsibility. Y’see, they can’t kill the cancer (that was not listed as even a possibility); they can only drive it back a bit to give us more time to say goodbye. And we’re willing to accept that as a gift.
The silver lining to the whole situation is this: I have noticed that all of us are much less likely to wave her off when she comes looking for attention or the plain ‘ol expression of love that a dog gets from petting. We've all become even more sensitive to these needs on her treatment days – when her need for the confirmation of our love of her seems to multiply tenfold. It has made us stop taking her for granted; to appreciate her like we did when we first got her from the dog rescue organization. We've returned to treating her like we ought to all treat our loved ones all the time. I will get down on the floor and pet her for extended periods of time. I am less likely to tug her along when she stops overlong (for what I often feel is a ridiculous amount of time) sniffing this or that indiscriminate spot along our walk route. We’re all playing with her more and pampering her more. We’re even letting her on furniture that used to be off limits. We’re appreciating her more…
It struck me recently how much better off we’d all be if we thought (realized) that there is only a finite amount of time that we have with ALL our loved ones. I’ve begun calling my parents more, just to check in with them. I’m concentrating on staying in touch more with friends and loved ones and trying to reconnect with ones that have become distant. . I’m trying to please my wife more and lift up my kids more that I used to. I’m tying to appreciate them more…
Did you think of someone there? Someone that you think you’ve perhaps started to take for granted? Whether you have or not isn’t important. The fact that you think you may have is enough. Give that someone (at least the first one you thought of) a call. Let them know how you feel. Appreciate them for what they are in your life; a blessing.
Here endeth the sermon.
Thank you, Andrew, for the (uplifting) reminder.Sunday feels like a good day to post this.
Peace, kids.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
