#18-UNADULTERATED MAGIC IN THE MORNING

A man and a woman stand on the Brooklyn bridge at 6am having not yet slept. They watch and wait for the threatening sunrise as they marvel at the miraculous knowing of each other. Waiting for the ball to drop, when they will no longer be allowed to conspire. To plot their destruction of all that threatens to hold us back and instead infuse inspiration to the point of shock waves though man kind. A noble pursuit for two humans.

The man is overwhelmed at his sudden desire to see Ground Zero. Not for the death. Not for the tragedy. Simply to feel the vibration of what stops a city from building...or at least reaching a place where they feel "ok" to build. Even a place where they can come up with something to build that someone might want to look at and admire...instead of shiny glass crap...ola.

The woman takes the mans hand and leads him away from water through a park. A shortcut to their final destination. But rather than a green side thought, the woman is accosted by a sign of restrictions. Rules. A list of no's in a place her tax dollars contributed to. Rules she never agreed to:

No radios.
No dogs.
No picnic-ing.
No open fires.
No gatherings.
No breathing.
No listening.
No living...and the kicker..no performing.

The woman's sense of herself felt jangled and she thought she would cry. All that moved her and her people was banned in her city. A place where she danced and prayed in her incredible collection of argyle knee socks and biker boots. Freedom. This was not allowed.

She shook next to the man and the man stopped and turned, jangled by his own mission towards Ground Zero and uncertain of the woman's sudden silence.

With a gentle letting go, the woman released the man's hand and walked to a nearby fountain. The water still flowed but the moss was dead from the subtle arrival of autumn that had slid into New York. She slid off her boots and socks and without hesitation stepped into the fountain. She dipped her pretty toes into the water. The same toes which had been photographed only a week prior by a renegade photographer with a fetish...for her. The bottom was slimy and cold and tin and the woman suddenly felt alive. Even with a sign of laws staring her down, they suddenly slipped into the same importance as graffiti on a bathroom stall. No performing? Give us a break.

The man stood and looked at the woman in awe. A renegade himself, he was suddenly faced with a "love it or leave it" moment as a stuffy woman walked by and pointed in horrified silence towards his brave, dear friend. For whose benefit is she pointing, he wondered. Her dog, perhaps. He decided to love it and suddenly Ground Zero wasn't so important.

These are the people who live in this city. The people who keep the heartbeat alive. They keep me up late, but never late enough. They make me want to stop everything normal and just create and write and live.

Seek the people who are doing something outside of their own boxes. The people who don't sleep much but manage to function. Ask what they do at night. Ask what matters to them. They are here and they are gathering. They are the ones who will lead us when it's time to rumble.

#12-UP IN MY IVORY TOWER

On my way back from glorious Provincetown I jammed out in the car to the soundtrack of "Pretty in Pink". I was going home from Carnival Day in good ol' P-Town where I was privileged enough to view the spectacular parade from one of the few terraces on Commercial street. I've always dreamed of knowing someone who would invite me to their apartment on Central Park West so I could watch the Thanksgiving Parade like I was Mr. Macy. This was almost like that. But naked-er.

As I stood in the evil sun howling for beads to be thrown in my towering direction, my lofty goals for the future flooded me. This was the last day of vacation and according to popular expectations I was to be refreshed and ready for what the world has ready for me. Halloween?

But then as I sat there covered in jalapeno mardi gras beads I came across an unusual email asking me to review a show. This was new for me but apparently my blog had warranted this invitation so I happily accepted. Earlier this year I was asked to judge The Manhattan Monologue Slam as well. I suppose I'm now "seasoned" enough to be an expert in my field. Guess I shouldn't mention that inside I still feel 12 years old. My ice cream consumption on this vacation alone equates with at least an entire 7th grade class.

So goals. Here's one a friend said he recently accomplished. Not to react emotionally to anything. Hmm. Is this possible? If so then this is my new "goal". I've reacted to lots of things emotionally. Evidence of this is joining gyms I'd go to for 5 minutes and never go again. Texting ex-boyfriends god knows what just cuz I'm feeling "emotional". Eating a whole bag of tortilla chips and salsa just cuz I feel like I deserve it. Storming out of the room in the middle of an argument only to reappear a minute later when my "emotions" subside apologising profusely. This is what you'd call "reacting emotionally."

I think it's safe to say I'd like to do none of these things again.My friend who apparently reached this goal just moved out to LA after a wild night of drinking Mr. Jack Daniels himself. Emotionally. But he gave all of us good advice on our futures and said we should all follow him to LA and live with him. That seems logical.

Regardless, as a result my goal is to be more methodical. To plan a bit. To make some goals and then steps to accomplish them. Actually tell myself NO sometimes. That's a big one cuz I think I deserve just about everything I want when I want it. Not in a selfish way, just in a "I work so hard I need a lift" way. And when I say "lift" I don't mean like a snort of coke. Just to clarify. Just what I need. "Did you read Sam's blog? She's recovering from a "need a lift" habit."

I sit here now back in NYC and my fabulous friend just texted me. He's a casting director for a zillion reality shows ad films and I just love him to bits. Another goal for me is to really focus on the friends I have made recently. Really look at the ones I'm floating with right now and make note of why they're my friends. This sounds dumb as I write it, but there's been a real shift in my world and I want to really see it clearly. The open mics, new friends-and there are a lot of them, new business colleagues. I want to hook onto why now? Why these people? I guess my ultimate goal is to just be more present in my life and really know what the hecks going on.

Life flys by and just like thousands of flying mardi gras beads all the pretty colors can be gone in an instant. This time...I'm gonna really live it.