This is also from an older draft post. I've since been part of a show, an extraordinary experience I still have to blog about but I'd thought I'd still post these earlier thoughts.

I love writing so just having a story out their in print or online and getting commented on I thought was enough but as I was recently told by an actor, when your story is told on stage its a completely different experience because of the interaction between the actors and the audience.

In this play I definitely felt the chemistry. Now and days and even back in the old days it was so hard to make a motion picture. To tell one of our stories would cost thousands of dollars and an experienced Hollywood budget and staff. At CASA 0101 what you need is an idea and some ganas to make your story into a play. And best of all its a community event with a very grass roots feel.

The Secret Lives of Bees

I'm diving into Sue Monk Kidd's The Secret Life of Bees. I don't like to be between books for very long.

I found it much of a coincidence that I had heard Sue Monk Kidd's name over three times in one week from three very different sources. My sister lent me some CDs of Sue Monk Kidd's First Light audio book. The second  was in Wayne Dyer's audio CDs on Spitirtual Living. And finally, when I was perusing my brother's bookshelf right next to his infamous political commentary personality I don't want to even mention here, was the The Secret Life of Bees on the bookshelf of my 32 year old brother I asked to borrow the book. A diverse collection of books to say the least.

Still though, I felt compelled to read and I'm immediately taken in.

Fleeting Moments

While in Alaska, my family and I saw an bald eagle soar right above our heads. It made us stop, turn, and gasp a deep breath. Later on that same trip, a brown mother (or father) bear walked in front of our bus as we slowly approached our glacier destination. Everyone got up and raced to the left side of the bus almost trampling over each other to take pictures. Both those times my instincts led me to reach for my camera. I didn't succeed with taking the shots. 

Thirteen, eleven, and eight years ago, a slimy new born baby was placed on my deflated belly and we both stared into each others eyes for the first time. I have to trust that my memory will preserve my memories for me. 

While waiting to board our cruise ship, I took a picture of an ordinary pigeon I saw later that same day to celebrate the ordinary moments. The breath taking moments, I know are irreplaceable and I entrust them to my memory. But among the rare fleeting moments are all the ordinary pigeon moments that I want to stop and recognize as well. 

Moments such as: having a conversation with my sons on our way to school; blessing my sons as they set out to school; kissing my husband goodbye or hello; cooking with my sons or having dinner as a family. Having an ordinary day in an ordinary life and feeling extraordinarily happy about it.

No one goes to Alaska to take a picture of pigeons. I did  because it represented all the ordinary moments in my ordinary life. 

Love Letters To Women

Intimate stories about women from the hearts of men.

I was anticipating seeing this play since I had first heard of it when it's producer and writer X first mentioned on a producing class I attended at Josefina's Workshops. I liked the idea of men confessing the good and bad influences women have been in their lives. And I wanted to see the full cycle of a development of a grassroots play unravel.

From the class it seemed that producing a play is much like planning a wedding. There are plenty of details to watch, and you have to schedule things out months in advance and work backwards to set deadlines such as when the script should be written to the auditioning of actors.

It was nice to see this project in completion. From the workshop, I learned about stuff I never would have considered such as differences between union actors and proper budgeting of the smallest details involved

The writer x, grew up in a household of 5 sisters, and a supportive mother and father. X confesses memorable accounts of small ways his sisters made influential impressions on his life. There were also the ugly stories which they share being screwed over by a woman's infidentality be it a mother, wife, or girlfriend. While the script could have been more polished, it proved to be an entertaining night such as when y and w talk about the same women Martha as an influential person as both aunt and girlfriend.

On the particular night that I went the audience wasn't laughing as much as other shows I attended. My sister, husband, and I were laughing hysterically at parts and I couldn't help to notice the front rows sitting a little stiff. In performance, the other component is the audience and in this case, the audience wasn't pulling its end. I watched them exit and most seemed uptight like they needed a good few drinks before the show or a good laugh.

Cherrie Moraga One Day Writing Workshop

On Saturday, June 26, 2010,  I attended a Writing Workshop Intensive taught by Cherrie Moraga and  Adelina Anthony.

My sister is a big fan so I went even though I have yet to read Cherrie's This Bridge Called My Back, Loving in the War Years, or The Hungry Woman. There's other books but those are the ones I really want to read.

We did several fun writing exercises. I was relieved that we would have a chance to read and share some of our work. We filled a old conference room. There must have been 30 of us. I counted. Some sat on the floor to listen.

I remember a handful of advice Cherrie gave that I committed to memory.

Only you can you do. So don't worry about someone else trying to steal our work because what makes it special is us. We all have different stories to tell from different perspectives, tones, opinions.

Stay humble. Don't let pride or arrogance keep you stuck thinking that you know it all. Stay humble, stay open. Keep learning. I have no problem with this. I know I'm at ground zero.

What I know from my own life experiences though is that you need some degree of self confidence to make it. I've seen plenty of writers of have a hard time putting themselves out there so for me, I stress the need to have confidence.

Even though she's a published author she mentions she's still learning.

Beware of the applause. I was curious to see what Cherrie's opinion would be of an Open Mics. She said it's good but just don't get to used to the clicks of approval. I can see how the need for the open mic audience approval could become addicting and too easy where editors would need to evaluate one's work more harshly. I think open mics or some form of community sharing can really help a struggling writer gain confidence.

Don't throw anything you write out.

You need to keep reading.