Picture-A-Day #56

Cig break during show. It's sunny out.

Picture-A-Day #055

The Story of the Red Umbrella

The last few days have been upsetting to my emotional state. I am doing what I do best, which is holding up those barriers that get shakier every month. I mean come on people! Each month has posed a new little stress on this wall. And while the barrier can withstand one or two, it can't take a barrage of them! I know it's all relative and it's all on varying degrees. You have the long-term issues. Then you have the short term issues. The story of the Red Umbrella is a mixture of the two.

The red umbrella is the only physical item I have of The Tall Man's. And it's sat in my room for several months since he first let me borrow is on a rainy day. After the beginning of the end I tried to ignore using it. It's strange how physical objects that really are just that, physical. Can be charged with emotional sentiment. I walked in the rain most days after this all happened, I didn't want to give my body reason to gasp and tear up. A little fall of rain won't hurt me now.

Then came the day when it rained so hard that I had no choice but to use it. I'd open it and as if I'd opened a box of mementos I'd become prone to thoughts I don't wish to happen. Yet, in the rain I admired it's way of keeping me completely dry. Talk about metaphors.

So onto the short-term issues. Some people call college the most informative years of your life. I disagree. College has caused me angst, financial nervousness, insomnia and stress. And now it's adding onto that with registration for next year. I don't want to go into issues, but the officials are being rather difficult. In ways they shouldn't necessarily be.

Since I have my past stories of trouble with college authority, I have these moments where I'm like, "Fuck it, I'm done!" I call my mother and scream to her. Not at her, that's very important to take note of. I merely say it to hear it so I can let it mill about in my mind. Then I can remember that it's pointless to stop now because I'll have the rest of my LONG LIFE to not be in college.

I am keeping myself pretty put together these days, but I have moments. Of pure mental release (a break if you will) and I had one yesterday. So after the frustration of registering and that distant thought of going to college for 6 years. I was walking home muttering swears and phrases of anger to no one in particular. I was giving life as it really is free to anyone's ears. I was carrying the red umbrella on a muggy overcast day. Oh and it felt heavy in my hands at that moment, so heavy indeed.

What is this? The third month of these upsetting news items. One after the next. That's all I could think in my head. In this exact moment all three of these issues in my life were together. The tainted liquid in my veins, the registration book in my bag and the umbrella I was holding...

And without warning I just started shouting and slamming the umbrella against a streetlight.

Slamming. Swinging. Shouting. Screaming.

If there was an ending to this story, I'd write it. There is not.

Words beyond words

This says better than I could ever say....

"When I confess, my disclosure is offered up to someone who is assumed to be morally superior. When I bear witness, there is a balance of power and vulnerability between us, and that which is personal is also plural.” If bearing witness is to show by one’s existence that something is true, is the New York Patient confessing or bearing witness to the Manhattan high school students, to me in my role as journalist, and to readers of this essay? When it comes to sexual risk and HIV, do we recognize any narrative besides a confession? What choice have we given the New York Patient other than offering an explanation for what we have already framed as his failure? Confession or bearing witness?

Picture-A-Day #054

This face equals the summation of my day. I will write about it later. It involves registering for classes, graduating, yelling and a red umbrella. Also, I'm writing a Gay Greek tragedy. Which ones weren't that way...I ask you?

Not That I Take Pleasure From It...

I called it...

GLORY DAYS CLOSED AT BROADWAY’S CIRCLE IN THE SQUARE THEATRE

http://www.GloryDaysBroadway.com

GLORY DAYS, a new musical by Nick Blaemire (Music and Lyrics) and James Gardiner (Book) played its final performance at Broadway’s Circle in the Square Theatre (235 West 50th Street, NYC) on Tuesday, May 6 (Opening Night).

GLORY DAYS began performances on Tuesday, April 22 and officially played 17 previews and one regular performance.

Producers John O’Boyle and Ricky Stevens said, “We adore GLORY DAYS and everyone connected with this production. Sadly, given the over-night reviews and our low advance sales, we believe it is prudent to close the show on Broadway immediately.”

The production starred Steven Booth (Will), Andrew C. Call (Andy), Adam Halpin (Skip), and Jesse JP Johnson (Jack). Led by director Eric Schaeffer, the creative team also included James Kronzer (scenic design), Sasha Ludwig-Siegel (costume design), Mark Lanks (lighting design) and Peter Hylenski (sound design). Vocal arrangements are by Nick Blaemire and Jesse Vargas. Music supervision, arrangements and orchestrations are by Jesse Vargas.

GLORY DAYS was produced by John O’Boyle, Ricky Stevens, Richard E. Leopold and Lizzie Leopold, Max Productions, Alan Mingo, Jr. and Broadway Across America in association with Signature Theatre.

Pretty impressive that it only lasted ONE DAY. That's some old time Broadway shit going on there. The reviews were awful, but people took great care to preserve the writer's feelings because they were 23 and 24 or something. Which I thought was sweet, though stupid.

Then my friend pointed out. Stephen Sondheim was 26 when he wrote Gypsy and West Side Story. Also, Martin McDonagh was 25 when he wrote his plays. So obviously if they can play in the big leagues they should be able to take the brunt that comes with it. From what I heard of the music, I either hope they improve or I never hear another score from them again. Or I date one of the guys, I think they're geeky cute.

Picture-A-Day #053

I know at one time I was meant to be a computer graphics major. Little things like color correction and cropping and photo editing makes me happy in my pants. Oh and I'm not shaving my face. That's what that stuff is on my face.

I ordered the chicken...

A Catered Affair. It lacked a lot. It lacked a good book. It looked memorable music. It lacked, really anything. I wanted to like it. I really did. I love Faith Prince and she played a cold hearted mother who had a couple good numbers. But when you have a character walking around saying, "I never loved you enough...I hate your father...I don't like to think about my life." How can you possibly feel moved by her?

There were two really awkward moments in the show. First, when Faith had a nervous breakdown. She was brilliant (as someone who knows what it's like to go through that), but it was so weird and seemed forced. But she went from zero to sixty in no time flat! Sitting there, just having had her daughter tell her a big wedding will ruin her life. And Faith looks at the flag that was delivered after her son's funeral and just LOSES it.

Then there was the songs that liked to end on a downbeat and not rhyme. Then Faith just stands there for a good solid minute or two. Apparently, she stood on the fire escape for the entire night and into the morning. Oh yes and those scenes in the kitchen and on the fire escape...Oh goodness. I love seeing flops. Just love it. These was one of those shows.

I also got a new little order of Broadway DVDs. This time it was a majority of them being plays. I got The Normal Heart, Souvenir, A Streetcar Named Desire, Patti LuPone at Les Mouche, In My Life, Angels in America – The Opera. I am starting off with Souvenir.

If I knew what the show was about when it was on Broadway. I would've been there in a moment. Florence Foster Jenkins was a Tone deaf Socialite who became famous. Then in her Carnegie Hall performance she realized people were laughing at her. I think it's an amazing story that is so cool to watch unravel (though it's fiction). Also it's taped from 2005 and on HD Video and has excellent sound. Judy Kaye played Florence and really was truly amazing, especially since she won the Tony for Carlotta in Phantom in 1988. Hurrah Ms. Kaye, hurrah!

Picture-A-Day #052

This picture sums up how my day went. If you can't figure it out, here's a hint...

As usual, look at the eyes.

Springtime for Hitler

Why is everyone allowed a springtime-soon-to-be-summer-crush, except me?

Is it because I'm crazy? Or because I'm gifted? Cursed?

Or because...

I'd most likely be an emotional wreck for anyone who steps within three feet of me. And I'd go nuts if they showed the smallest bit of attention.

Yes, I do believe that is it.