Tag: inspiration

Day 240: Words, Words, Words – “‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers -” (n.d./1891)

““Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –

And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –

I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.”

— Emily Dickinson

Day 191: Words, Words, Words – Joe Lynch (2017)

Contributor Joe Lynch closed a recent piece in Billboard magazine with the following paragraph, which I think is a great observation, regardless of which part of the political and social spectrum we happen to occupy.

“Unfortunately, we live in a time where people assume that political statements need to offend someone in order to be meaningful. That’s a narrow-minded approach. It’s just as important and political to inspire people and let them know they’re not alone.”

Day 135: Words, Words, Words – Viola Davis (2016)

On Sunday night, Viola Davis delivered a remarkable speech as she accepted the inaugural #SEEHER award at the 22nd Critics’ Choice Awards. If you haven’t watched – or read – it yet, it’s definitely worth a listen – or a look.

“It’s hard to accept being a role model for women when you’re trying to lose weight, but it’s true. I’ve always discovered the heart of my characters by asking, ‘Why?’ When I was handed Annalise Keating, I said, ‘She’s sexy. She’s mysterious. You know?’ I’m used to playing women who gotta gain 40 pounds and have to wear an apron. So I said, “My God, I have to lose weight. I gotta learn how to walk like Kerry Washington in heels. I gotta lose my belly … .” And then I asked myself, ‘Well, why do I have to do all that?’ I truly believe that the privilege of a lifetime is being who you are, and I just recently embraced that at fifty-one. I think my strongest power is that at ten o’clock every Thursday night, I want you to come into my world. I am not going to come into yours. You come into my world and you sit with me, my size, my hue, my age, and you … you sit. And you experience. And I think that’s the only power I have as an artist, so I thank you for this award. And I do see her, just as I see me.”

Day 83: ICHSIB – Stephen Sondheim (1970)

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– from “Being Alive” / Company –

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One of the things I’ve talked about in my classes is the idea that whatever definition we choose to assign to “The Good Life,” some kind of sacrifice will always be part of it. One of the sacrifices I had to make to get my M.F.A. (aside from eight years of my life and tens of thousands of dollars in debt that I’ll be paying off into my fifties), was letting go of the magic of sitting in a theatre without thinking about the writing, the acting, the directing, and all the other elements that make a play a play. Sometimes, though, I still find moments when I’m able to feel a performance instead of thinking about it, and when I do, I cherish it, because it reminds me, even now, why I chose to do what I do – and why I’d never go back.

I had one of those moments the first time I watched John Doyle’s staging of Stephen Sondheim’s Company.

The action in Company revolves around one main character, Robert, whose friends all call him Bobby. On the surface, he has almost everything: he’s thirty-five; he’s attractive; he’s well-off; and he’s surrounded with friends and girlfriends, all of them competing for his time – and all of trying to tell him what to want and how to want it.

Early in the first act, when Bobby tries (and twice fails) to blow out the candles on his birthday cake, he doesn’t make a wish. He even admits it to his friends. He doesn’t want anything, and you can tell from his eyes that he’s lost in his own life – and in all the voices echoing inside his head – like he’s living his life according to a script. At the end of the second act, those echoes finally overwhelm him, and he silences them with a single, desperate scream.

He walks across the stage, sits down at the piano, and starts to sing “Being Alive,” the last song in the show and his own musical epiphany.

At first, his voice is filled with cynicism, and the echoes start to return. But instead of his head, they’re coming from his heart. His own voice begins to change, and the music pauses after one last echo: “Want something. Want something.”

Bobby’s cynicism is gone – and so are his anger and his doubt. He wants something, and he’s no longer living his life according to a script.

That simple realization leaves him shaken, and he fights to find his breath. His first few words are slow, aching whispers that almost get caught in his throat, but as the song goes on, his voice grows fuller and more assured.

He takes two halting, awkward steps toward the front of the stage and finishes the song standing alone in a single unforgiving spotlight. He’s vulnerable, he’s unafraid, and he’s totally spent. And it’s absolutely beautiful.

He smiles, takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, looks up toward the spotlight, makes a wish, and exhales as the stage goes black. He has no idea if he’ll ever get it – and neither does the audience – but that’s not the point. He wants something, and he’s finally, finally ready to accept the sacrifices that he’ll have to make to try to find it.

The first time I watched Raul Esparza sing that song – and saw the exhaustion and honesty in Bobby’s face, I cried – one of those rare moments of getting lost in a performance.

I know some – maybe even most – of you probably are thinking, “What does any of this have to do with the good life?” Depending on your definition, the answer might be nothing at all.

But I hope that isn’t true. I hope that you, each and every one of you, find your own something – the something that you want so much it makes you fight to find your breath – or makes your voice get caught inside your throat – or makes you take two halting, awkward steps into the spotlight – or leaves every fiber of your being vulnerable and unafraid and totally spent – and makes you ready to accept the sacrifices that you’ll have to make to even have a chance to find it.

Don’t be afraid it won’t be perfect. The only thing to be afraid of, really, is that it won’t be. Want something. Want something.

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(Tomorrow, I’ll post a video clip of the Esparza performance as my usual Sunday video.)

Day 75: “All That We See or Seem…”

This entry probably is going to wind up being a bit more rambling than usual, mainly because I didn’t start writing it until a little after ten (and I’m trying to get it finished – and posted – before midnight).

The title of the post is a reference to one of my favorite bits of poetry by Edgar Allan Poe, from his poem “A Dream Within a Dream” —

All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

As I was driving through town today, I heard a radio ad for an Edgar Allan Poe-themed Halloween event at a local restaurant.

Whenever I think about Poe, I’m never quite sure how I’m supposed to feel. Part of me feels guilty whenever I read – and enjoy – his work, and part of my feels inspired. (I have a similar reaction whenever I see one of Van Gogh’s paintings – especially “Starry Night,” but that’s another post for another day.)

The part of me that feels guilty feels guilty because I know that I’m probably reading something that was inspired (at least in part) by Poe’s lifetime of struggles with isolation, loss, and rejection, and (as strange as it probably sounds) I always feel kind of bad about enjoying something that came from such a dark place.

The part of me that feels inspired feels inspired because Poe’s body of work – appreciated more after his death during his life – stands not only as a remarkable literary output but also as a reminder that we have no idea what kind of impact our lives might have, even if they seem to us like they don’t make any sense at all. It reminds me that there’s always hope that we (and what we do) matters, even when it seems like nothing about us (or what we do) makes any difference to anyone. It makes me hope that Edgar – sometime, somehow, in this world or the next – realized just how much his life and work meant to the world. And it makes me remember how important it is for us to remind other people how much they mean to us.

Take a Look: Andrea Sierra Salazar

Cphf-LXUIAENUDePhoto by Gerardo Garmenia

From the Glamour magazine website: “A diagnosis of cancer, and the subsequent treatment, is grueling for anyone. Chemotherapy treatment in particular not only affects how a person feels physically, but it can also take a toll on body image and emotional health because of its side effects that can cause hair loss. But for 17-year-old Andrea Sierra Salazar, who was diagnosed with stage 2 nodular sclerosis Hodgkin lymphoma, she turned what was at first a blow to her confidence into something empowering: Embracing her hair loss in a series of seriously stunning photos. … There aren’t many models redefining royalty as bravely as Salazar, but she joins a small group of other cancer survivors who are also showing off their side effects, or scars, of their conditions to show that they are not giving up and are courageous throughout their journeys.”

Read more about the project at the Glamour magazine website.