Hello! My name is Lenny Schwartz and I am a playwright from Rhode Island. In the past few years I have made the trek down to New York City. Some of the plays I have written have been performed in there. You probably haven’t seen them. But hey, I don’t hold it against you.

Have a cookie and let’s suck face.

Like I said before, I write plays. I also direct them. God help us all, right? Hide your kids, Schwartz is on the loose.

Except your opinion hurts. I am a father too you know.

Anyway, FEAR.

We all have our own personal fears in life: Clowns, Aliens, The 2012 Presidential Election.

Yet we have to face them. Especially when you are in theatre.

What does that mean for you?

Well, you have to take a risk. And Not for FAME. Who the heck wants that?

We have to take a risk because if we don’t? We become stagnant. We keep repeating the same traits over and over again. We never grow.

So do the thing that scares you the most. Dance naked on the stage! Write a piece you thought you never could! Push your art as far as you can possibly take it.

Because then and only then will you pass the biggest hurdle that could ever stand in your way: Fear.

My next play in New York City is called Accidental Incest: Someone for Everyone. It has nudity, naked dancing, and hopefully won’t end my career in the arts forever. It is going on in June at the Bleecker Street Theatre in New York City as part of the 2012 Planet Connections 2012 Festivity. Yes, I am shameless plugging away. And yes you should see it.

So now comes the question. Will I put my money where my mouth is?

The answer is: I’m going for it.

No looking back now.

And neither should you. You beautiful creative artist people you

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I like that I have guest bloggers on my site. So much so that in my attempts to get back to blogging, I asked other people to do it…again. That didn’t work out (this time). Fine. If the universe insists I write it then I  will…it has been over a year after all and…wow…a year.  
 
Yes. I excel in procrastination. So when I was packing a few weeks ago for my Caribbean vacation I thought I should pack my plays so I can get moving on those rewrites. On the beach. I’ve done it before after all and yeah…the plays fail to leave my hotel room (or my luggage) and then I get annoyed at myself for procrastinating  and then eventually I torture myself enough to get some writing done when I return so NO! Not this time. This time, I made a conscious decision to put off productivity and enjoy myself. A procrastination vacation if you  will.
 
I did not pack any of my plays, I did not bring a journal, I did not bring a notebook. I did bring several trashy magazines and a book that I never opened. I was not productive. Most importantly? I didn’t feel guilty about it.
 
What did I do? 
 
I rested.
 
I sat on the beach, in the shade. I watched the ocean, listened to the ocean, walked to the pool, swam in the ocean, swam in the pool, saw a dolphin and then did it all again.
 
I stayed at a resort and I met artists.  We seem to find each other don’t we? Writers, painters, musicians, potters, quilters and film makers. We talked about art, process and procrastination. 

I made a commitment to a meditation workshop that was held at the resort every day. I learned to watch my thoughts just like I watched the boats on the ocean sail and float by, sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly and to enjoy them, be ok with them. I learned that I am not my thoughts any more than I am the boats sailing on the water. That beneath the thought was what mattered.  The ocean underneath the boat. 
  
The teacher urged us to be patient, curious, not to take anything personally and to stop trying to look good. Good advice for anyone. Especially not trying to look good. Risks are not always attractive are they….but they are thrilling…life affirming. Good, productive advice for an artist. A playwright.
 
So let’s see….I rested. I met artists, I enjoyed nature. I nourished my soul. I procrastinated. I was not productive. Or so I thought. Turns out resting, talking, enjoying myself are important. Productive even. In fact, they are just as important as my rewrites, readings and rehearsals. I was productive and didn't know it.
 
I’m home now and as I gaze at my full calendar to see what lies ahead, I see a day that says “do nothing”. And I won’t. And it will be productive.

Is this all a giant rationalization to justify procrastination? Maybe. I'll think about it tomorrow.
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First I’d like to say Gaby Fox is an extremely talented and generous lady!  I thank her for inviting me to her Blog.  As an artist, she understands the challenges and great rewards of pursuing her art.

As a fine artist, illustrator, writer and poet, I have a lot of hats for one head!   I’m feeling things changing all around me right now.  Right at this point in time and history I feel a tremendous resurgence of art in society.  Even more so, a resurgence in humanity’s inner values.  I think we’ve had enough of terror and loss running us around!  The world has created so much pressure on us all.  But then, I’m finding, that much pressure on our minds and lives leaves us with only 2 choices… sink or swim. (3, if you consider blindly following the drones a choice, HA!).

I have taken these lemons and turned them into PUNCH!  Not just lemon and sugar but effervescence, too!  I have found myself not unlike the coal down deep in the earth; after so much pressure, I have discovered my diamond heart.  It’s tough, brilliant and with many, many facets! 

Four years ago I began an experiment; I would try and “manifest” the life I’ve longed to live just as an experiment mind you.  I would replace thoughts of how my goals and dreams were not possible to perhaps how possible they were.  Do the things I love to do and see what happens.  Things began to happen alright.  “Maureen, I love how you painted your art studio.  Please paint a mural in my house!” and “Paint a portrait of our daughter” and “Design our groups poetry book for us!” The list goes on an on!  And then I lost my job.  Bad thing?  Turns out not!  Somehow, I am making it as an artist!  This experiment has changed my life and it continues to daily.

At the moment, I am waiting to move in and redesign an art studio in the heart of Peekskill, 44 North Division St.  With so much work coming my way and so very many ideas bursting from my mind, I decided that I need a public place of operation.  I’ve had to rent my art studio/apt on my property for financial reasons.  One would think this is a bad thing but hey, that move has moved me closer to my dream!  See what I mean? I will be having an Open House, too!

So at this time I am putting together a book of poetry & short stories with my own illustrations.  I’m getting ready to sign the lease and set up my new studio, enriching, updating and expanding my website  www.maureenwinzig.webs.com , painting, painting, painting and envisioning my life as beautifully creative as it can possibly be!  Oh, and I do host a magnificent Open Mic for the Spoken Word series with the next event coming Friday, February 4th! 

I invite everyone to tap into their truest self.  Go against the grain of old school thinking within the box and truly live!  Or, if you’d like, you can watch me instead!  I never thought I’d hear myself say this but it really is… all good.  Peace

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I hate the holidays..

There.  I said it.  

Ok….I don’t really hate the holidays.  I hate the expectation of 24/7 jolliness and marketing that I am bombarded with from Thanksgiving to New Years.  

The diamond and car commercials…. no car with a bow on it for me…buuuuut…there was the year my uncle hid in one of the rooms in the house, not allowing me in until the gift he got me was fully assembled and then he slowly opened the door with me patiently waiting behind it to reveal my first taste of freedom….a big wheel.  I performed spin outs in the driveway that would put Starsky & Hutch to shame.  The same uncle defied my mother’s feminist ban on Barbie dolls.  Don’t get me wrong…I admire her ideals and agree with them. But…I wanted a Barbie and he got me one.  A Barbie with curly hair, I’ve never seen one before or since. I doubt he purposely found one with curly hair but nevertheless...

But I digress…I started writing this blog way back in early December and today it is the day after Christmas and snowing….a lot so I am back.  Originally this blog entry was filled with more memories of Christmas but I realize, we all have them….good and bad because holidays are just days.  Days like any other day with a mixture of everything.   The older I get, the more I realize that what I really like about the holidays, or any other day for that matter, is the opportunity to connect with people.  It’s people that matter.  I will stop here before this blog turns into some preachy, annoying diatribe that will trigger my cynical self to rebel but before I do I need to mention the other part of the holidays that I REALLY like…..the lights.  

Oh how I love the lights.  On trees, in yards, in windows.  It’s like a silent revolution against the dark, a community effort to cheer people up at a time that can be filled with nostalgia and sadness.  People matter, we cheer people up, we are the holidays.  So maybe I do like the holidays.  I like to make memories at the risk of being sad about them later.  I don’t know.  I like days.  Whether they are holidays or not.  Maybe I am getting preachy…to misquote Mr. Dickens- “mankind should be our business” I’ll make a resolution to figure it all out by next year.  In the mean time…..thank you for hanging lights and making my world a little brighter...yeah, definitely preachy...have a happy….day, holiday,  minute, moment...

 

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Writing is hard, and don’t let anyone tell you different. 

I usually equate the act, and sometimes art, of writing a play to dating someone.  Sometimes it’s sunshine and puppy dogs, and other times you want to bash your head through a window. And let’s face it: sometimes we like, even love, conflict. It keeps us on our toes and makes life a little more interesting. If writing comes that easy, then maybe you are not producing your best work. It’s not uncommon for me to yell at my characters, to wonder where the frig they came from and why they insist on ruining my perfectly-spun story.  

 Now, I’m not complaining. I love to write, because as crazy as it makes me, the reward is like nothing else. To sit in a small room and work with gifted actors and directors, and then to present a play--an actual play and not just a bunch of meaningless words on a piece of recycled paper--for an audience, is the ultimate euphoria. It’s a dream worth holding on to, even when you feel like giving up.  As writers, we all need the support of an audience, and we also need the support of one another.

While many consider writing to be a solitary process, I think it becomes especially hard when a writer doesn’t have someone to brainstorm ideas with, or give an honest opinion of his or her work. What I hate most of all is when writers feel like they have to compete with one another. When I meet a fellow playwright for the first time, and he or she spouts off their entire resume, I am instantly turned off. I honestly care more about someone’s work, than where it has been. Perhaps it’s a form of insecurity, after all it can be a harsh business, but I believe that if we are the individual artists we claim to be, there is no need to compete. I love the collaborative process, and I am more than happy to help a fellow writer in any way I can. Unless you are a pretentious a-hole. Then, I’d probably just laugh in your face and walk away.  

 In the spirit of collaboration, I’d like to offer some advice for overcoming that dreaded writer’s block. May not work for everyone, but I find it to be helpful:

Avoid Distractions
The phone. The television. The Internet. Tools every writer needs on a daily basis--but not while writing. Many writers prefer to think of their writing time as a good friend, one that deserves undivided attention.

Set Realistic Deadlines
Every writer goes at his or her own pace. Is it reasonable to have a few pages of a novel written by lunch, or have a first-act play completed in a month. Deadlines don't have to be scary, but a goal to strive for.

Know What The Project Is
What is the protagonist's goal? Is the play a comedy or drama? Who is the target audience? These are things that an author may not think about during the writing process, but the more a writer knows about his or her project, the easier it will become to develop on the page.

Eavesdrop
It may sound underhanded. But you wouldn't believe how many authors have been inspired by conversations overheard in bars, coffee shops, or on the subway.

Find a Space
Having a space designated to writing can help focus. It can be a coffee shop, the park, the library, or an area in the home. It should be a place where the primary focus is writing. In truth, it doesn't matter where the writing happens, as long as an author can focus and feel comfortable in his or her space!

Keep a Journal
Though often creative, there are still rules and patterns one must follow for writing that novel, screenplay or report. Keeping a journal allows a writer to get all of your thoughts and emotions out, in a way that is totally uncensored.

So, keep on writing or supporting the writers in your life. It doesn’t have to be easy to be worthwhile!

www.markjasonwilliams.com


 

 

 

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 I don’t know what to blog about. I was going to blog about the importance of names. Spelling them correctly, pronouncing them correctly…just getting them right.  An issue that has been with me my whole life.  It is Gaby with one ‘b’ a ‘y’ not an ‘i' (the French spelling) rhymes with cabby not baby and is Gabrielle not Gabriel….Gabrielle not Deborah…Gaby, not Kathy.  And NO…not Gabe! 

I swore to my parents that when I turned 18 I would change my name because I got a lot of “Gaby?  Why do they call you that, you’re so quiet” or from old men “Gaby? Like Gabby Hayes?!” Who is Gabby Hayes you ask? Why he’s the lovable white bearded sidekick in many of the old westerns of 4:30 movie fame (for those New Yorkers who recall the 4:30 movie). Yes…as a young girl who wanted to be Barbie, being compared to Gabby Hayes was not ideal.  Alas….I did not change my name.  I have earned my name. 

But as I get older I realize, I am not alone, I am not unique.  In fact everyone has a name and everyone has a story behind it.  It is the only thing we carry with us from birth to death.  I try to be careful with names, knowing that battles have been fought over them and the importance of knowing that it has been heard.  I know I have fallen short just like all those Gabe and Gabriel offenders out there…but I try….for the story and the battle that lies behind every name I try.  I know I fail and fail often so sorry and please tell me the right way….always.

So much for not blogging about names.  The second blog idea was about what I’m doing this week between 2 separate plays going up in 2 separate places.  The week between shows is filled with catching up on bills, laundry, writing and cleaning….boring for a blog I suppose.  But I do wish to thank both the Small Town Theatre Festival and Broadway Briefs LLC for inviting me to be part of their “firsts’.  For the Small Town Theatre it’s their first short play festival and for Broadway Briefs LLC it is their first production.  What an honor to have dreams all collide in this way, thank you both….let’s all keep dreaming.

Oh...it's Gabrielle...not Gabriella J
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On Fly-by-the-Seat-of-Your-Pants Creativity 

I am an undisciplined writer. I do not write at the same time each day.  Truth to tell, some days I do not write at all. Often I have little to say and a life that affords me no time to say it. It grieves me that, unlike George Sand, I cannot force myself to write twenty pages every evening before retiring to bed.  

So what does creativity look like in my disheveled existence? For no traceable reason, I get out of bed one day and go straight to my computer.  I type madly, look up at the clock, and see that six hours have elapsed since I sat down.  I continue on into the night.  

When I fly by the seat of my pants, I stay in my pjs, do not do dishes, and do not cook, not even for my daughter. (Not to worry – she is twenty.) I fail to read the New York Times online, make my bed, do laundry, or take out the overflowment of trash in the kitchen. I return no calls and occasionally cancel classes.  J’accuse!  I can cheerfully live on rice crackers and frozen mango for days. Life stops.

 In retrospect, the universe always lets me know that ignoring the world in that cavalier fashion was the wise thing to do. My best ideas come on those days when I don’t even bother to -- oh God, I hate to admit this – comb my hair. 

I have participated in seminars led by the likes of Nathalie Goldberg, Robert McKee, Billy Collins, and others; I allow that a hit-or-miss writer is anathema to the experts. Yet I never regret my creative orgies. They always turn out to be spot-on productive.

So not only am I undisciplined, but I remain nrepentant. 

Kathryn Gravdal is sporadically writing PARIS IN BED, an historical novel that has grown in fits and spurts to 354 pages. She is the author of two books on French literature and works in documentary film.
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Fire 09/10/2010
 
Blog number 2, took a little longer to get to than I had hoped.  I wanted this blog to be about creativity but just not feeling all that creative lately.  Or maybe it's just been hiding below the surface.  In any case, it hasn’t been on my mind.  

I thought, ok…I can blog about dating, or you know...not dating…be so very Sarah Jessica in Sex in the City but God…that even bores me….and really…who cares?  So what’s been on my mind is what’s been on most people’s minds….mosques and book burnings.  But I won’t write about that either….everyone’s got an opinion and I’m not here to change anyone’s mind.  You can certainly turn on any 24 hour news channel and fuel whatever side of the fire you want to.  Fire.  That’s what I want to blog about.   

I went camping over Labor Day weekend with a group of friends.  No TV, no radio, no computer…ok I had my blackberry but it was basically a news free unplugged weekend and my favorite part was the fire.  At once, warm, hypnotic, colorful, exciting, peaceful, full of life.  As people gathered round the fire each night, it felt right, it felt human, communal, primal, watching colors drift from yellow, to orange, to lavender to blue with red hot embers rushing into the the sky trying to reach the stars. Such a thing of danger and destruction brought human beings together….we listened to the fire crack and burn and move the leaves in the tree tops.  It made me think.  Nature is just as warm, beautiful and inviting as it is violent and destructive.  So are we.  We are nature. 

I participated in a drum circle and African dance.  I was not good at any of these things, but I was with people who didn’t judge…ok…let’s be honest, they might have but they kept it to themselves, patted me on the back and then gathered round the fire.  Without wires, without keyboards, without headsets. We communicated.  We all came together, for dance, for drumming, for walks in the woods.  We communicated.    We communicated through movement, laughter, song and stories.  Through creativity.   

So...turns out this blog is about creativity. Everything is because we are all created and creative. Maybe we need to choose what we create more carefully.  

I cannot write without mentioning 9/11.  It's there.  It lingers in the air this time of year like you could touch the pain of the past.  On this awful anniversary of those horrific fires that brought such long lasting pain and destruction….I think about sitting with my mother and father on the corner in town on 9/12, holding candles for those who were lost in the fire.  I think about the fires over the last weekend and the fires in the future that will bring people together to share their pain, grief, joy and hope and that’s the fire I stoke.  The fire in my family's living room growing up that brought us together and quieted us down.  The fire that allows people to tell stories, to tell my story and listen to yours…in whatever shape it may appear….keep that fire burning.   An oversimplification?  Maybe, but it certainly can't hurt to stoke that fire.
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Do one thing... 08/23/2010
 
Welcome to my very first blog entry…here anyway, I started a blog awhile ago and got very bored very quickly, there’s a little ADD in all of us isn’t there?  But I digress...

My vision is to keep the blog focused on all things creative….guest bloggers will write every month or so to give people a chance to meet some of the wonderful people I have worked with over the years and continue to meet along the way.  If you’d like to contribute as a guest blogger please email me and fill me in on what you’d like to chat about.  

For now I will leave you with this.  Artists, whatever that term means to you, are easily distracted by the fact that it is not a well paying job.  I beg to differ, it feeds the soul and saves people’s lives, the pay off is in the soul.  It saves people’s lives.  I say it twice because I have actually argued the truth of this statement and for me it couldn’t be more true than that.    It saves people’s lives.  It may not completely pay my bills (yet).  But for now, it keeps my soul very happy and nourished. So…most artists have their day jobs, I have been VERY fortunate to have one that makes me happy but I need to create as well.  So, years ago, I made the decision to do one thing each day to nurture that part of me no matter how tired I was, no matter what crappy reality show was on…one thing once a day.  It could be as small as writing an email, researching play submissions online or seeing a play.  But I committed to doing one thing which more often then not turned into a thousand things.   In any case, it works for me.  My resume is the accumulation of doing one thing per day and that is all.  Do one thing today. 
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