You can't please everyone all of the time, but you can please one at least once-

Or two or three...

I know that there has been some criticisim that this show is not enough, not erotic enough, that we pussy foot, but one thing to remember is that everyone's threshold, experience, and boundary is different. A small cock to one can be a huge cock to another (I'm just saying).

I had one woman say to me, "man, I wish I had a better idea of what the show entailed before coming to see it. I would have brought an extra pair of panties."

I thought that was hilarious, but it was this e-mail that I was sent that seemed really important; something that seemed to strike me as more important than being wet or dry. This is only my personal view point, of course, as far as importance of messages go, but I thought I would share:

What a GREAT, GREAT show. Wow. I loved it. It was so bold and true and important. I really think our culture's attitudes about sexuality are extremely wounded and it is art like this that will help us to revision this important component of being fully human.

A Dream

OHMYGOD, WE'REGOINGTOCANADA!!! How freakin' excited am I? It's a funny story, actually. See, I had been stressing out about the tour, focusing on all the negatives- how much work I have to do before I go, Howard (my primary partner) is going to miss me, my cats are going to hate me, my business is going to suffer, nobody will remember and love me when I get home- that kind of stuff. I was dreading the tour, not excited to get to spend two weeks each in three interesting cities I might never visit otherwise. And then last Wednesday I had a dream so real that I woke up Thursday morning crying and completely discombobulated.

I dreamt I arrived at the theatre on Thursday to find Eleanor, Mary, and Adrienna waiting for me with very serious looks on their faces. They proceeded to tell me that I was no longer in the ensemble and not going to Canada, but that I would have to finish out the three Portland shows. They wouldn't tell me why, in fact would not talk to me at all after announcing I was ousted. I tried to call Howard but could not reach him on the phone. I called two of my dearest friends- on their house phone which I don't even have the number of, just their individual cell phone numbers- only to be told, "we don't like you anymore, Tonya, quit calling us."

It was kind of traumatizing. I mean, I woke up convinced I had lost the things that mean the most to me in this world. Once I calmed down and realized it was just a dream, I of course started pouring over it trying to deduce its meaning. This is what I came up with...

The dream was a reminder from myself of how important it is to me to be a part of this ensemble and to get to go on the tour of Canada. I think it was my way of slowing myself down and re-focusing on the joy and excitement of this grande adventure. Inviting Desire is obviously very important to me, even if my conscious mind sometimes loses sight of that because all the work and time involved can feel very draining. Anyway, it was a nice little kick in the pants, and now I'm really starting to get psyched up. Yes, I have a ton of errands to run and a couple of people I'd really like to see before I leave. But this is going to be SO MUCH FUN! I can't wait to get on the road with my sexy compatriots...

Canada, lock up your sons and daughters! Heh.

Closing night, opening summer!

Ah, the closing night of a show usually has a bittersweet feel - there's often a bit of relief, combined with the sadness of knowing that no matter how close a cast has become, the family is breaking up. And of course, the adrenaline of wanting to make it the best show EVER.
Happily, we are merely closing here in Portland, but the excitement of the tour is building. (I am researching RV roof sealants at the moment! WOohoo!)

The open mics this weekend have been pretty special. Thursday night J--- got onstage (he hadn't signed up, but we had a few no-shows) and asked for a volunteer, and Mary was up for it. They created a beautiful piece of contact improv, coupled with J---'s poem and improvised accompaniment, one willing audience member drumming out a beat on one of the boxes.

Last night (Friday) was totally powerhouse (and probably way too long, but man, there was so much good stuff). D---- started things off with a poem about sacred cock worship, K---- described an incredible night with two lovers, C---- shared a story about fucking his woman with another man, and getting both their cocks inside her at once (whew - it was freaking hot). We had world's cutest couple do pieces back to back that gave us a delightful window into their sex life - including an audience sing-along of The Lion Sleeps tonight, and an erotic softball charade. I know! You so wish you were there!

I am mulling over some criticism I read recently about the show. This particular audience member felt like it lacked eroticism - he felt like he was sitting next to his mom, watching their next door neighbor. And of course, at first I felt that familiar panic of "oh no, I've done something wrong! Someone doesn't like the show! I failed." But I am getting a hold of myself (writing about it helps).
I do appreciate hearing other viewpoints of the show-as you might imagine, I tend to hear the good stuff, and people censor their criticisms when speaking to the shows creator (though given enough time, I will ask for and receive analytical feedback).

My original intention in creating this piece was to explore the feeling of desire - specifically in a theatrical context. As a lifelong theatre goer, I find I can remember few instances of feeling desire while watching a show. I was curious if that is something we block in a public setting, or is it that theatre, ostensibly able to hold the mirror up to humanity, is challenged in creating a feeling of (sexual) desire that an audience can share?

So when someone sees the show and is left dry, as it were, I worry we haven't met the challenge. But
Inviting Desire is an experiment, to see what it's like to portray desire, and to discover if an audience responds. Perhaps that won't be everyone. I think some people relate to some parts and not to others. God knows I have read hundreds of erotic stories that didn't move me in the slightest.

With this version of the show, I do feel that we are more removed from the audience. (I personally really miss the erotic hairpulling segment). I wonder if that keeps some people from actively feeling turned on. But I have heard from a number of people that parts of the show really did do it for them. Perhaps more so when we were right up against them in the church (literally - for those who missed the Fertile Ground version - the audience was at our feet, sometimes we tripped over them- and the venue was an old converted church).

But with this version I think it needed to have some remove. (The venue itself kind of creates that - being in IFCC creates a much more palpable sense of "being in the theatre") - and secondly, it's the version we are taking on tour. We are going to unknown cities in Canada, using venues we have never seen, with an audience that could very well be less than Portland-receptive. The show had to adapt. It needed to become more theatrical, and hense, perhaps less viceral.

And I suppose I don't so much mind the sense that you might be sitting by your mom, watching your next door neighbor. The other part of the mission in creating this show was to open up the topic of sexuality. Guess what, you're mom has sex, and so does your next door neighbor. And if this show helps you to be open and appreciative of that, then super. I didn't fail.

Sexual revolutionaries!

I received this letter from a well-meaning audience member. Funny, the concern about the legal ramifications of our show. I thought back through the show and wondered if we mention pedophilia. In the teacher piece, you have no way of knowing the student's age. And crimes against women? I wonder if the S&M piece is what the letter refers to. But I am delighted that whoever sent this email loved the show and wants to see it made into a movie. I like the idea that you can't ban a movie. But I also think that the reason this piece works is BECAUSE it's theatre, it's a live experience, the audience plays a huge role in creating the show moment by moment and night by night.

Hi Eleanor,


I saw the performance on Saturday. Outstanding! It was a GREAT performance, and important work. Let me wish you every success for the future.

A couple of suggestions:
- a movie of the play? Something that might help bring the play to a wider audience. It might also be combined with a documentary - so that we have interviews, etc. in the beginning, and then a recording of one performance afterwards.
- publishing the text into a book.

Finally, one possible caution:
There's a sequence in the play where an actor says that no one can prohibit one's thoughts and fantasies. That's true, but in some places, it can be illegal to take those fantasies out of our minds and commit them into any form of media - such as photos or even words.

These efforts are, of course, well meaning - I believe anything involving Nazism is illegal in Germany. However, in Canada, I have heard that anything having the remotest connection to things like pedophelia or "crimes against women" may be considered illegal - even an entry in a personal diary. There are no objective yardsticks and it's basically up to the police/prosecutors to decide whether or not to prosecute. Since there might thus be a few issues with some of the sequences in the play, it may be good to check with lawyers in Canada.

Alas there are many, many countries which do not have the protections to free speech that are protected in the US Constitution. May be that's why I think a movie or film might be a good idea - they can always ban a performance but they can't stop a movie or a book.

Thank you.

OMG! I Have the Same Fantasy

What's the most unusual fantasy I've ever had? Well...

I was sitting with a couple of my friends after a show, they had come to see the performance, and they had been thrilled with the production. They talked through their favorite pieces, although, they loved the entire show, each piece affected them differently. My friend's husband, (who, honestly, I wasn't sure if he was going to like the show) said, he really enjoyed it. Than he said, "but the plant fantasy, I thought that was way too out there."

"She wrote that one." His wife said.

"What? You wrote that one? I knew you wrote one but I said to S- there is no way she wrote that one." He said.

"She did." S- said.

"I did. I wrote that one." I said.

"What? You wrote that one!" Then he busted out laughing like it was the funniest thing he had heard in ages.

Funny thing about the plant fantasy is that it isn't an original idea, the first line of the monologue is 100% true: when I was a kid I found a stack of Heavy Metal magazines. Well, that's not entirely true, I didn't find them, they were my mother's, and she used to let me read them till one day, sometime around age five, she suddenly decided that maybe I shouldn't be reading those comics, so I was no longer allowed, but it was too late I had already read, and memorized the images of the woman being raped by space plants.

The best part about writing and sharing a fantasy that just seems so "out there", besides having my friend's husband laugh because he can't believe I wrote it, is when someone gets excited that you have just revealed their little secret, and finally, finally, they can tell someone about it:

My friend, B- is coming to see the show this Thursday, and she is very excited, she had heard my friend and her husband's rave, rave, reviews of the show, and she can't wait. Even before she had heard the reviews she was planning on coming. One day I had been telling her about the plant piece when suddenly she interrupted me and said, Oh My God, I've seem that comic too! I saw it when I was a kid, I had that in my head for years," then she giggled like she was a ten year old trying out a dirty word for the first time.

After Saturday's show, I was standing with another friend, and guy she knew. She was doing some personal PR work for the show telling everyone to see it (she has yet to see it, but her ass will be in a theatre chair this Thursday) and she said, "Adrienna has a fantasy about being screwed by plants." The guy gets all quiet for a moment, and then this look of awe or shock washes over his face. With out making eye contact he said, "When I was a kid, I use to have this fantasy about a plant, it was like a Venus fly trap, and it would come into my room at night and suck on me."

Yes! Exactly! See it isn't that unusual. Isn't that wonderful.

week #2

Thursday night was such a struggle- for all of us, I think. Certainly for me. Coming back to the show after 4 days off- having worked a full week, running around after an eight hour shift waitressing, trying to get programs printed and concessions together, being in the middle of a relationship crises in my personal life - and having to get on stage and convey cheer and desire when I was feeling anything but. Challenging.

But that is the nature of the beast. It ain't film. There are no second takes. So, we pulled together, we called on the assistance of our personal goddesses, we danced around and did an extra vigorous warm-up (remind me to describe our warm-up for you someday - it's unique). And the show was solid. A small and quiet crowd- we couldn't ride their energy or responses much at all. And I think we were feeling our way back into the show, not fully grounded or confident. But still - I didn't feel despondant. I wasn't worried that the show was fatally flawed or lacking. Something felt off- but not permanently. The open-mic was fascinating - a beautiful piece by a couple started it off. He read a story describing his role as a sub, while she flogged him wielding duel floggers, highly choreographed and perfectly timed.

Friday was totally different - many friends and family in the house. My best friends came down from Seattle, Mary had an entourage, and as I have come to really appreciate, the kink community showed up in their finest. The show was lifted by the throb of the crowd - and we returned the serve. The open-mic was again unusual - only three pieces, but gems every one. An impromtu monologue about finding his superpower was created on the spot by L-----, multi-orgasmic man. K---, dressed in her silver evening gown and looking fabulous worked up her courage and pushed past larygitis to perform a piece from an Alester Crowley play. A luscious afternoon H---- recalled from his youth, the 60's were in full swing and the office assistant had a little too much wine. Delicious, every one.

Saturday we fit into our skin. The show felt like it fit - less anxiety I think, coupled with a crowd that wanted to laugh (didn't hurt that I plied them with free champagne before the show - a tribute to my mother's birthday). If I had one observation - it was that we could have picked up the pace. Felt like we were enjoying the moment perhaps a little too long . Hard to say. I haven't gotten a run time from my stage manager once. She told me she doesn't have a stopwatch. So just going on feeling.

But it was once again the open-mic that felt really special. I announced that it was my mother's birthday at the end of the show (along with Jesse and Deb) and the audience sang them happy birthday. I let everyone know that tonight was the first time my mother was seeing the show and that my dad would be doing a piece in honor of her for the open mic. Then we went out into the lobby for cake and more champagne.

The open mic started with me reading this poem called Gate 22 for my folks. It's about an older couple reuniting at an airport and they share this kiss that goes on and on, and how all the spectators wish they were her, being so passionately kissed by him. Then my dad reading a piece by Marge Darcy (I think) that was called One plus One is One or something like that. Really sweet and kind of perfect. A couple performed a brief comic piece about bondage and safewords (I remain puzzled by pickle I have to admit).

Eric - my dear love and life partner, also performed last night. He has been writing this piece all week, which is comepletely unlike him. He writes rarely - it's been so precious to see him hunched over his notebook, thinking. And his piece was beautifully crafted - the story of auditioning a sub, an inspection of the goods, so to speak. I play a role in the fantasy, which is lovely ( I hate feeling left out!)

And then the evening ended with an incredible solo from E----. She played a scorching piece on the violin - just broke out the passionate and had my toes curling the entire time. Exquisite, I mean, she is truly a mistress of her instrument, such a sublime way to end the evening (except for our audience karaoke version of Storm Large's "My Vagina is 8 Miles Wide- which is the evening capper).

I am feeling super excited about the show actually. I hope we sell well next weekend - our last before heading off to Canda. I have Taiga, the sound gal, rebuilding some sound cues. I feel like we're learning how to sculpt the show to highlite the strengths.

Got to figure out how to get people in to the theatre this last weekend. What will be the most effective use of my time. Flyering at psu? hanging posters along the hawethorne/belmont coridor? Facebooking my community ad naseum? I'm totally open to some outside the box thoughts if you've got 'em. (cuz the vagina don't do P/R all that well).

Why

Adrienna's recent post was so true. Inviting Desire really is like a child- a living, breathing, growing, evolving entity. I am realizing it will never be "finished." Which is the nature of this beautiful beast we have created. ~grins~

I have never put so much of myself into a performance. Time, energy, emotion, commitment- I haven't worked on any other theater projects since November. But I feel like this is life well spent- the feedback I've received has been wonderful validation that people want and need to see this kind of honest sexual discourse. When I get emails like the following, it reminds me why I'm doing this...


Thank you for a wonderful performance last night. As an armchair director, I generally can't attend any community theater without walking away with tons of "notes". Not so last night. "Inviting Desire" engaged me entirely from moment one to the end. The writing is world class. Your performance was genuine and moving.

It was perfect.

I will say your name and talk about this amazing show to anyone who will stand still long enough to hear.

Please pass on my deepest gratitude, highest compliments and fondest wishes to your cast mates.

~unknownkitty

Its not just about Birthin' a Baby, its about Raisin' a Child

We are getting geared up for another run here in P-Town. Yesterday, we had a short rehearsal, and went over the parts within the show that we would like to make stronger, more genuine, and more truthful.

Although last Saturday's reaction was surprisingly wonderful- standing ovation. Thank you Portland- we still feel it can be better, sharper, precise; "razor sharp".

I've never worked a show where the rehearsals continued once the show opened, so it's new for me, but really who am I kidding, it's all new to me. I've never joined an ensemble so late in the game. These ladies have been working together on this show for nearly a year and I just reached my month mark two days ago. My friend had said, it was like I just joined a band; the old guitarist quit and I'm the new one, only the last album with the previous band members was a hit album, so the stakes are high, and the expectations (My friend and I often do this band/theatre comparison).

I've been digging down into my old college theatre bag of educated acting tricks, none of which seem to be working, and I'm thinking about writing a few of my professors and asking, "hey, what happened to the joining an ensemble troupe that is already well into the process, and the vision, and then plans to go on tour in a matter of weeks, techniques 101 class?

Honestly, isn't this the nature of theatre? Always morphing and changing? Even those shows where it is set to be done exactly the same every night, it never truly is. You never know what an audience is going to do, and what if a bat flies onto the stage, huh? That wasn't in the script now was it? (I saw that happen in a show once) Every experience is different, and you need to drop your old coat at the door every time, or all your clothes in this show, and be ready for the new experience. It isn't easy, but there are few opportunities that are as rewarding.

So here I am, the day before a performance, going over my notes, and walking around with various postures and voices talking to myself, and looking generally crazy; that's what actors look like, because this naked baby may have been born she's still not growns ups yet, but what a beautiful bouncing baby she is.

Oh yeah, and a hell of a review in WW (did I mention it's a pick?!)

I have to admit, I was terrified of what Ben Waterhouse would say about the show (he came Friday! To the show I thought was hopelessly flawed!)

"Inviting Desire is entirely free of the self-important didacticism one might expect from the subject matter. It’s a brightly paced romp, funny and moving and possibly inspirational..."

http://wweek.com/events/latest/performance/#gh0#35.31

Thanks Ben!

Moment of Portland magic

These open mics have been extraordinary. Not just for the material, which has been beautiful and compelling, but for the mix of people performing.

One of the most fascinating pieces of Saturday's open mic was a woman named Moe, who did an original piece about being out on the ocean, commerical fishing in Alaska, alone in her skiff. She's a writer - publishes a zine named after the boots fisherpeople wear, Xtra Tuff.
(And she is in fact performing June 29th at In Other Words).

But the wild thing was that Eric and I decided to venture out of the apartment to play frisbee as the sun was dying down in Unthank Park. And as we were ambling down the sidewalk, a woman on a bike rode up behind us, and as we moved out of the way, she recognized me, and I her. She had lovely things to say about the show- and the experience of the open mic. How parts made her squirm a bit, and also recognize the beauty of their inclusion, despite being uncomfortable. She said, as we went our separate ways, "It's healing work." And that made me feel so good.

It is feckin scary, doing this show. it is hard work and plenty of anxiety, but moments like that, that much appreciated flash of synchronicity, give me courage that we are on the right path, that we are doing necessary work - in the form of naughty play ; )

some thoughts about the experience

I just had a wonderful chat with El about the show, the review and the first week. And then I read her blog and am reminded, yet again, how articulate and expressive she is....well, that all of you are (our dear Tonya, Mary and Adrienna). But it is Els vision, talent, incredible hard work that has launched this boat and keeps it afloat. And we must, none of us, ever forget that!!!!

Here are some of the good things that came out of this experience for me. The first day I read your Manifesto I wanted to weep, and I realized for the first time in probably 30 years that I was still healing from the baggage I grew up with surrounding sexuality. When I started to go through purberty I was regularly called a slut by my dear mother, who was probably terrified that I was becoming more sexual and a woman, and it was afterall the 60s and a lot of crazy shit was happening. Even though women were "liberated" that was not really the case, it was more like, you could get the pill or an abortion, or take a cure for any STD that you got- it was before AIDS, before the side effects from the pill were known, before the breast cancer epidemic, before abortion doctors were being killed... But for many us, being liberated just meant that men could expect more from us sexually before marriage but still call us sluts if we were as active sexually as they were.

So, anyway, when I started this project, I was thinking all that time about how I felt about what the women were performing, which then made me think about all the messages I grew up with and how they had shamed and humiliated me in my life. And it was really shocking to me to realize that even after a marriage, a child, lots of lovers and a lifetime of experiences.... that I was still carrying that baggage, the wounds, the hurt. Wow, I was really shocked. And as I heard the stories both onstage and off, I was realizing the deep and profound humanity of all people who want to be witnessed for who they really are, who want connection, to feel, to share, to really be seen. And I want all that too. So, I felt this deep love for people.

And even though I am a college professor, and I work with young people all the time, I rarely get to hear the inside part of the students lives - which is probably a good thing. And here I am hearing the inside lives of the cast, but not with shame expressing themselves with a kind of frankness that was so damn healthy. And being around that, made me feel healthy and more accepting of myself and of others.

And I also got to work in a totally new way, with a new process that was maddening at times but also exciting, and fun and demanding and scarey and very real. And I feel profoundly happy that I had this experience. And I am intensely proud of Eleanor and all of you for your courage, struggling to do your lives and this show at the same time.

For the last six months I have been thinking about starting a theatre company whose focus is on gender-gay, lesbian, straight, bi, trans, feminist and only do plays that address issues surrounding our understanding or lack of understanding about gender. It is therefore ironic that I should be invited to join this project, that Tim Stapleton's show is playing (also at IFCC) and that both are self created works that are speaking with a loud and important voice during a time when many theatre companies are making safer and cheaper choices to try and stay alive.

What a momentus thing to happen to me in my life. How can I really express how you all have rocked my world?

Opening weekend - bittersweet and beautiful

So funny, blogging. I very much don't think I've found my "voice" yet with it. I write whole entries that I then erase, because I can't imagine putting those thoughts in public. And yet, that's my authentic experience - so why not share it?

Because you can't take it back.

But if I don't at least try, I'll always dread blogging, because I'll get so caught up in what's appropriate.

After Friday's show, I was despondent. I thought the show was hopelessly flawed - that I had somehow made a drastic mistake. I got a fair amount of constructive criticism from friends - which didn't happen the first time around. This time, there was less overall shock factor, more analytical
critique I suppose. (Though come to think of it, I did get some detailed critiques when the show premeired at the Fertile Ground Festival, and they made me furious! I am less reactive now, more appreciative. But still anxious and somewhat apt to throw the baby out with the bathwater and assume that if one thing is off, the whole thing is compromised).

A dear friend I trust said (in a nutshell) "you were trying too hard." And that resonated. I so wanted to "reach the folks at the back" with my voice and presence, I think the people in the front got a little too much razzledazzle 'em. Jokes weren't landing. And the lack of response (ie laughs) made me suicidal.

But, I had three great experiences on Saturday.

I went to Forest park and sat by a creek and sobbed. Let out all the tension and anxiety and fear. Asked myself again why I sign up for this kind of thing - why do I put myself out there like this? When it has the potential to make me so vulnerable. And vulnerable in so many ways. Not just emotionally and creatively, but financially. I spend all my tip money producing.
I opened the file marked "manifesto" in my mind. The desire to create a piece that was empowering and erotic and authentic and theatrical. The desire to open hearts and minds.

And I thought about the open-mic after the show. How incredible it was - beyond my imagination - gay women and straight men, and bi women and leather daddies and grandmothers - all together in one room! Sharing their erotic imaginations with one another. How supportive and alive it felt. And having the crowd all joining in for MY Vagina is 8 Miles Wide from Storm large's beautiful show Crazy Enough. I was exactly where I wanted to be, doing exactly what I wanted to be doing. I was so proud of everyone. AND entertained!

So that helped. And then, I had a chat in my head with Anais Nin. She told me to stop feeling sorry for myself.

"You're an artist - go work on your art. Change what you think needs to be changed. And stop worrying about whether or not anyone is laughing. laughter isn't the only appreciative response. In fact, when it comes to sex, it's often the thing you least want to hear. Sex must be mixed with tears and laughter, words, promises, scenes, jealousy, envy, all the spices of fear, foreign travel, new faces, novels, stories, dreams, fantasies, music, dancing, opium, wine".

Something like that. It was a much needed reminder. People will experience this show differently. And this time around one of the goals was to get away from the "SNL skit" feel of it, as Brenda once described it. I needed to let go of the expectation that things are going to get the same kind of response they got the first time around, because we've crafted the show in a whole new way.

AND I get to keep working on it. (That was a much appreciated reminder from Tori as well - that the show is being workshopped. SOmetimes I get caught up in the old paradime of "Once a show opens, you have to do it the same way everytime." A lesson drilled into me in grad school and regional theatre. Not that you phone it in, you still make discoveries, you still try out different deliveries- but you always cross on the same line, you stand in your light, you say the same words EXACTLY as the playwright wrote them). And that is one of the beautiful gifts of self-producing. You CAN change stuff around, you can write a new line, you can scrap things that aren't working.

So for Saturday's show I tried a different approach. I was still feeling a fair amount of fear about my ability to be both authentic and entertaining. It is so easy when I am in front of an audience to go into my "Ethel Merman" shtick. Big and boisterous and perhaps a big showy. But then, as life sometimes confirms, when you are ready to learn the teacher appears.

My friend David showed up at 7:30 and I was doing the concessions. We chatted for a bit about his recent ordination, and I asked him specifically what he felt like his spiritual calling was. I can't remember his exact words, but in my memory it's something about staying present with the sacred, making that a daily practice, being in the moment, letting that be enough...I'm sure I'm paraphrasing terribly, and probably making a fair bit of it up, but it was so what I needed to hear in that moment. I almost started to cry in the lobby, and I asked him if he would hold my hand, just to ground me. Which he did, and it worked just like I thought it would. (He's a holy one, that David).

So the show on Saturday felt much more fluid and well, grounded. Less frenetic. I worried less about the laughs, and ended up getting more. Sometimes, not always. And that was ok too. I played around in Watsu (the piece I do about getting a water massage). I took it to an extreme I haven't tried before - and it was such fun.

I also tried to let go of my anxiety about the success of the open-mic on opening night being a fluke, the magic impossible to re-create. I'd stacked the deck a bit on opening night - inviting Jennifer Lanier, Andrea White, and my friend Janea - beautiful performers I could count on to step to the plate. Not to mention Tori and Emily from the original cast - who both had polished their pieces to a fine-tuned performance.

Saturday I had two people signed up at the beginning of the night.

And then one of them texted me at 7:45 to cancel.

I figured I would just cancel the whole experiment- for the evening, if not the whole run. I tried to be philisophical - I can only provide the opportunity, I can't force people to share themselves in this way, if they're just not ready, or interested.

But when I turned around, 5 more people had signed up.

My friend David got up and did a piece that he created in the moment- about allowing your entire body to be your gentials, and always being receptive to the universe turning you on (again, I can't do David justice - trust me in that it was powerful and profound). Others did Hafiz, and graphic and gripping original poems, and off the cuff story about hitchhiking while horny. Again a wide variety of different kinds are shares, and people sharing.

Again, I was humbled by the courage people showed in performing, and the generosity of the audience in sticking around to witness, and help create such a supportive container.

I received the healing I asked for. From the trees and the earth, but also from the experience of doing the show, and remembering all the things I love about it. What an honor it is to share the stage with Tonya and Mary And Adrienna. The adventure we have ahead of us.

The opportunity to create a piece of art that other people actually come to see. awesome.

Oh, and there's a pretty good review in the Oregonian.

The fan mail comes pouring in!

YAY! We make people want to get it on! Mission accomplished!

I received this email today...

I wanted to let you know how much I thoroughly enjoyed your performance last night. The staging, writing, timing, and performances all tied in together and created a seamless show. I didn't see it's earlier iteration, but I think it was good to cut the time and cast down, as it definitely seemed longer than an hour, yet was over too soon. I promptly took my girlfriend home and had some of the hottest sex in days (we have pretty hot sex regularly anyway). I appreciated the transitions from humor to tenderness, to sometimes a little dark, and back to light again. I'm looking forward to seeing it again, and am considering coming up with something for the open mic. I'll let you know if I can come up with something. I think with a packed house with and more energetic audience, this show can blow the roof off.

Great job to everyone.

Oregonian best bet!

There have been many beautiful moments during this remount, but I admit, I've been nervous about my ability to get people in the door. I'm not so joanie on the spot with the P/R. So today to see the show listed in the Oregonian's A&E as a bet bet was truly a sign from the goddess.

Thanks BIG O!

Check it out!
http://www.oregonlive.com/entertainment/index.ssf/2009/06/june_1218_music_movies_more.html

With one week to go....

I am nearly falling asleep at the laptop I'm so damn tired, but man I feel proud of the work we've done. I am so grateful to have a new director, and not be the outside eye. i really love being in the piece, and trusting someone else to see the loose ends.

I fear the show won't satisfy those who've already seen it - the loss of certain pieces, and the different framing device we use for the touring version. but as Mary Rose said to me tonight, we HAD to cut it, and it wouldn't have worked to just cut pieces from the original and try to keep the rest the same. We had to try something new. I have to remind myself that I was anxious about audience response the same way last time - I had no idea if people would enjoy the show, if they'd get into it, or walk out. I have the same fears this time - but compounding it is the fear that people who loved the show will feel disappointed this time around, having expectations coming into it. I hope not. I have always admired how companies like Sojourn try out pieces over and over, changing and cutting and reworking and rewriting. When I saw Throwing Bones the first time it was nothing like the "final product." That gives me courage. I want to create the kind of theatre that is fluid and can adapt to new circumstances and surroundings (not to mention, new company members). I want this show to be constantly evolving to reflect new pieces and perspectives. I want to create Inviting Desire in many different communities - kind of like The Vagina Monologues - but rather that have a set script, each cast can create pieces of their own, or use the ones we've written. I don't know how it's going to look, but that's part of my dream for the show.

Possible costuming?

We had a fabulous time flyering at last Thursday - I think this may be my new costume of choice!