I grew up learning how to sing, dance and act. Even knowing I wasn’t physically built for a career in entertainment didn’t dissuade me. I was a decent character actor with a deep sultry singing voice. I remember when an actor-friend was excited about almost being cast in a commercial for the army. The Vietnam War had recently ended, but many of us had strong opinions about the military, including her. No, I couldn’t promote the army. I shifted from performing to directing which meant no more auditions. Woohoo! While I have a big presence, I’m something of an introvert.

While at UCLA, I created a model for developing a short play using poetry with a strong theme, vignettes of the ensemble’s personal experiences, incapsulated by something resembling ritual. The Method was big there and I figured I pay homage to its personalization. (I was cringingly trying to play nice.) We used “Waiting,” a poem Faith Wilding performed at Womanhouse. The actors explored their experiences of waiting and dig for those that were personal and provocative. The vignettes ranged from disturbingly disconcerting to humorously validating. The ritual elements included music and dance, but we also included one of our regular chanting warmups. It was well received by a small audience that included the head of the Directing Department who rarely saw undergraduate work.

After university and struggling with finding work in the “business,” I moved to the Pacific Northwest. I’d heard it had a great theater community. However, before joining, I fell in with the metaphysical crowd. I learned symbolic languages like astrology and the Tarot. I fell in love with these models of symbolism that enhanced communication and self-reflection, especially during a reading. I didn’t always get along with the community (big surprise) because I was more interested in the art and language of symbols than the prognostication thing. While doing readings enhanced my intuition, the side effects could be unpleasant and confusing.

I went back to my first love – theater. My first production used my old theater model, based on poetry I’d written during and after therapy. Thus, the Sanity Patrol was born. But was that enough of a challenge? Of course not. No, I also wanted to create new venues, combine mediums and genres, generate new audiences who had little or no experience with the arts. Writing and producing industrials that quietly needled audiences into altering their thinking and behavior on issues of harassment or abuse (they were all comedies) was one of the highlights of my career(s).

Like so many other creative compulsives, I had a day job. Nor did I always hate it, even though I worked with lawyers. I did hate the tedium and office politics, but I liked being surrounded by people who weren’t freaked out by my strong opinions and arguments (another surprise about non-Jews when I left the Jewish ghetto). The work was relatively mindless and I was given free rein to write in my spare time.

Writing can be lonely. Founding and joining organizations was a way to keep connected with other writers, along with producers and publishers. They also gave me a chance to explore a wide range of group dynamics/ They were largely volunteer. My girl scout days of service never left me.

The early days of the internet held lots of promise. My optimism wasn’t diminished even the people around me warned me that only psychopaths and sociopaths were online. I disagreed and found all kinds of wonderful people. (Brainy Smurf had to take a meeting in my area and took me to dinner and the theater.)  However, in my case, I met one of each. The psychopath broke my heart and the sociopath sabotaged our business. Long thrilling but sad story. Took me many years to recover.