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I Love You All :)

11/29/11

Sadness and stillness.
Confusion and swirling.
I float and I fall.
They say "out of the darkness comes the light of day."
I believe that. I've felt that.
But dark dark dark
My heart knows it's own place
Has it's own timing
Runs on it's own schedule
Beats to it's own bleat.

Breath, slow down.
Heart, slow.
Where does this come from? For years now.

Change, soon. I know.
But oh, caught up in the moment of the future. Panging in the present.

No more dark. Stop.
I hear you.
It's as if I've never known anything but blue. Sometimes.
And I comfort myself with the memory of pink. Wrap myself up in gold.
Grateful for green.

It would be so easy to do what I've done.
Just go back.
Bad Seattle. Bad.
You're not even the temptress that NY is.
You're the actual good Truth. Utopic in your good flaws.
Bearable flaws. Safe flaws. Flaws that make complainers smile: "oh, adorable you."

I fear I will arrive skinned and bleeding when I'm dead. And the Others will look on me and be glad of my bravery.
I know in eternity I will soon be glad too. But not immediately. Not immediately.

I will know why I did it but still want to know.

I fight
And fight
And fight
And I just want
To be happy again.
Right again.
Not who I was... I can never be that. I accept that.
But the new happiness. The New Happiness.

The kind that makes skyscrapers gleam
Water sparkle on bright faces.

I better get back to my book.
This tossing oh.
Sweeping down.
Winding up.
And going nowhere.

Daily O 26

Tonight @ 12:57AM:

I am going to be on Broadway.

Daily O 23

Tonight @ 1:

• Perfomed my poem at the Museum of Sex open mic tonight. Very very very well-received. Didn't realize how much I needed the praise. I intend to do it at Nuyorican as soon as possible.
• I am so proud of myself tonight. I am a poet.
• Today is day one of a six-day fast. Just liquids. No sex, including masterbation.

Daily O 24

Tonight @ 11:50:

• Went to a modeling casting call for Manhunt. Not what I had expected. Lackluster.
• Meditation has fully become a part of my diet.
• Proud of myself. For no particular reason.

Daily O 23

Tonight @ 1:

• The interview was a circus. I navigated well. Results pending.
• Wasn't able to afford to buy Legacy business cards. Suspecting Cosmos.
• Prospects abound today: BAM wants to interview me next week for an usher position. Manhunt model casting call tomorrow. And submitted my headshot to New Jersey Shakes for their upcoming tour.
• Noticed that my torso wants to lean right or left when sitting. Also, my head has a tendency to cock to the left since childhood.

Daily O 22

Tonight @ 1:

• Interesting events. I got up and was very motivated to work. I sent out resumes and headshots, responded to casting calls, modeling gigs, administrative jobs. I was on fire. Very proud. Did it with time to spare.
• Spent the better part of the day preparing for tonight's performance of my poem at the Nuyorican.
• Then... Precipitous cosmic obstacles. (1) My train crawled and paused frequently along the way, 'causing me to meet late with Ashley. (2) Though I didn't realize it at the time, I misread our emails indicating where we'd meet. So we both completely missed each other, 'causing me to have to walk there myself. (3) When I got there, there was a sign posted that they were closed for repairs and cleanup due to the past weekend's hurricane. — Completely thwarted.
Which raises the question: Why? — Several speculations. Needless to say, I was very disappointed and disgruntled despite having meditated.
• Ashley and I couldn't even hangout 'cause not 30mins later she got a phonecall from her mother asking for her help and immediate physical assistance. WTF? — If I wasn't supposed to go out tonight, why not make that clear sooner? Why the wasted time and effort?
• Uniqlo interview tomorrow.
• Going to purchase Legacy business cards tomorrow.
• There are huge answers to the day's events. I'm sure of it.

Daily O 21

Tonight @ 12:30:

• Intentionally didn't blog yesternight. Or vlog. Just wanted to have a different day.
• Very close to getting Legacy business cards.
• Mom was having a bad day. Took it out on me. But thanks to today's earlier meditation, I didn't absorb it or take it personally. Very proud of myself.
• Cadence came over to give mom and dad time to sleep after their first week of parenting. I got to watch and hold her for a while. I love having a baby to hold. For a moment, it was as if she were mine. I just kept showering her with love.
• Things are about to change this week. I just know it.
• I'm so glad that I'm meditating regularly.

Daily O 19

Tonight @ 1:

• Went out for drinks with Ashley at her favorite bar. Necessary. I'm a good counselor. And it makes me love myself better.
• The day went by so fast. Went to the market to pickup some stuff for mom. It's weird: when I step out of the house, I have to remind myself to be myself.
• Didn't meditate. I will before bed.
• Felt amazing today heading to the bar, and I think it had everything to do with my outfit.

Daily O 18

Tonight @ 1:

• Had sex with a very hot 40yr old. Wow.
• No work on Legacy today. Stormy weather.
• Meditated after sex. I felt called to do so.
• Applied for a few jobs I'd never want to work. Appeasing the mother.
• Didn't use the free tix I won to see a ballet on screen in HD. I thought it was a live performance. — I think I really just wanted to see me win something.
• Wrote a slam poem on love and my husband. Very proud of it, and think I will perform it at the Nuyorican Poet's Cafe on Monday.

Daily O 17

Tonight @ 3:30:

• Bought Legacy domain (golegacy.org). Still have to link it to Wix.
• Just finished watching "Doing Time on Maple Drive". It's been 19yrs since the first time I saw it when I was 11. Still powerful. What a forward program. And gripping.
• Great meditation today. Contacted my angels, and Jesus Christ.
• Sleeping on the other couch now. It's cosmically good to switch.
• I cosmically feel different.
• I love myself.

Daily O 16

Tonight @ 1:

• Finessed the Legacy website.
• We had an earthquake and I loved it.
• Saw Tyne Daly on Charlie Rose with Terrance McNally. — Wow. Can't wait to work with her.
• Thinking that if I want to skyrocket my life I should just start doing all the things that scare me.
• Proud that I'm on a work binge.

Daily O 15

Tonight @ 1:

• My cell phone service is currently off. But I discovered that the wifi still allows me to use the Internet via phone.
• Finished LEGACY website. It looks beautiful. So proud.
• Tanned on the roof today and really enjoyed it. — Susan's right: It's very important for me to be in elevated places connecting with Nature.
• Still befuddled by my relationship with JCrew: I get the catalog in the mail, and I'm drawn to their fashion as a symbol of my success. If I had a vision board, I'd plaster it with some of their images (especially their boots/shoes). But, at the same time, they don't really have clothes in my size. What's that about?

Daily O 14

Tonight @ 1:

• So proud of myself. Completed the outline for Legacy. And also started the website, which is looking good.
• Loving this summer's storms. It's like God is talking just to me.
• Oddly enough, got my second call for a massage within a week. Perhaps I should stop ignoring them. If I get a third, I'll know something is up.

Daily O 13

Tonight @ 2:

• Taught choreo and wedding dance to Kate & Ming in Park Slope. Heavenly.
• Very proud of that. Made me yearn for something better.
• Watched gymnastics on TV with Nathan on the phone. He truly is my best friend. I had so much fun.
• Still dodging my work. I will do it tomorrow.

Daily O 12

Tonight @ 2:34:

• Forgetting to blog. Gotta get back in the habit.
• Vlogging regularly though.
• Sex is my distraction. Devious. Haven't made headway with "Legacy" due to this.
• I'm an uncle. Welcome Cadence.
• I choreographed a dance for Kate Baker & Ming's wedding. Did it in one hour. Its their "couple's dance" and wedding song. I'm honored. The song is "I Will" by the Beatles.
• I feel different. Like a different person.
• Submitted the complete materials to The Public's EWG yesterday. I made the jump. Very proud.

Daily O 11

Tonight @ 1:50AM:

(Preface: Apologies for the absence of the last 2 blogs. The first one — which was on my Birthday — was intentional. The second was neglect.)

— My birthday:
• Spent it alone in three parks (Madison, Central, and Washington).
• Cheered-up by a homeless gay man named Daniel. We talked about books, favorite Hollywood actresses from the Golden Age, Broadway Musicals and divas. Then he serenaded me with a song from "Follies". It was a good long talk.
• Lonely day.
• Went to James' sex party. Hottest one I've been to in a long time.
• Planning on recelebrating in the future with my Husband.

— Tonight:
• Very productive day.
• Created 5-year Plan, and gained much needed insight as well as perspective.
• Wrote Artistic Statement for Emerging Writer's Group.
• Began daily Vlog.
• Great meditation today.
• In better spirits all around, and think it has everything to do with the acknowledgement of the ending of my Saturn return.

Daily O 8

Birthday, beginning @ 12:40AM:

• Laundry.
• Cut & edited "Much Ado" to under an hour. Monopolized my day and night. On to "Othello".
• No meditation.
• Applied for jobs.
• Productive day.
• What will this day be like...? ... I wonder...
What will my future be...? ... I wonder...

Daily O 7

Tonight @ 4AM:

• The moon has been my companion this whole week. And we've been having conference every night.
• Woke up in a great mood. Figured out some stuff last night after having re-listened to Susan's reading.
• Ashley took me out to a pre-birthday dinner. Sushi. Then the park. Very good time.
• Was a bit solemn for part of the evening. She noticed. I think it is due to my upcoming birthday.
• Re-listened to Tony's reading before bed tonight. I understand now.
• Going to make a list. And I know what to do next.
• The Cosmos is going to gift me with my own home before this summer is done. And I will work.

Daily O 6

Tonight @ 12:

• Went and saw "The Help" alone. It was fantastic!
• Didn't meditate. Sidetracked. The result of which showed when I went for a walk with my mom this evening. I came back fuming.
• Applied for a job at BAM.
• It's official: No one is available for my 30th birthday. It's like some great big joke.
• Think I might have an idea of what to do next.

Daily O 5

Tonight @ 1:

• Just saw the best documentary ever: "Superheroes".
It's still doing a number on me. I can feel it in my chest. There's a pain and a tightness like something is trying to let go. I keep taking these great sighs to help it.
• The New York Initiative... There's gotta be something I can do to help. But how?
• Figured out the mediation sweats. It's a form of healing. And could lead to an out of body experience.
• I was a bit depressed today. But meditating got me out of it.
• Pretty sure I acquired a new FWB.

Daily O 4B

Tonight @ 2:

• Meditation on the roof tonight was a bust. I was immediately set upon by 3 mosquitos. They left their marks.
• But it was extremely hard to leave. The air, the stars, the moon, the view — was perfect. I must have said "goodnight, I love you" ten times.
• I'll be back.
• Nathan and I are cosmically in the same place, which I find odd 'cause our lives are currently so different. On paper.
• I wonder if we're ALL looking for a change...
• Shaved my legs, cut my hair, shaved my face. That was the first time I ever did all those things together for myself and not because I was getting ready to have sex. I was very matter-of-fact.

Daily O 4A

Today @ 3:

• Just finished meditating. Drifted in and out of sleep. Feel like I may have hit a ceiling. But yet I do feel calm and collected and confident.
• The new position of my hands on my thighs is great. 
• Noticed indentations of my palms, creating prints/patterns on my thighs. Funny, that.
• Stil sweating.
• I think my mother needs to hear from me throughout the day because she gets lonesome at her desk. And I'm a comfort to her.
• No urge to really go out today. 
• My routine and distractions are appearing to wane. I may be growing weary of them and the monotony. If this is true, I'm excited.
• "Game of Thrones" book 5 seems to be my most reliable source of soul-entertainment.

Mid-Day Image:

www.lamarlewis.com

Daily O 3B

Tonight @ 1:25:

• Was momentarily obsessed with taking tests on whether or not I'd survive a zombie apocalypse.
• They were surprisingly extensive.
• 4 taken. Results? Not good. Although I have skills and brains. My lack of weaponry experience would hold me back unless I found an armed group FAST, and learned how to use a gun quick.
• Became oddly morose when queried by my family about my upcoming birthday. Sad, indeed.
• Do not like my mother's driving.
• Grateful for the moon's presence within the last few nights. Planning on a nighttime meditation on the roof tomorrow eve. Think I have a lot to benefit from it.
• Uber-excited about the end of my Saturn Return. It's time to get back on track.
• This should be an interesting week.

Daily O 3A

Today @ 3:45:

• Woke up in the weirdest state of catatonics. Lasted over three hours.
• Went to the roof to read. Too hot. Listened to ascension music as the clouds and sun unfastened before me.
• Ascended.
• When finished, my catatonic bouts deepened. Found myself staring into nothingness for long periods. My body frozen like a statue, unaware of space and time and heat.
• They say this used to happen to Socrates. Deep in thought. 
• My thoughts were not "deep". No significant change from usual thoughts. 
• Its a lot like the Wizard of Oz. I manipulate a gargantuan machine of smoke and fire, then leave the console to retreat to a quiet shadowed corner to think about things and hear myself.
• Rediscovered the monarch of ME. 
• Drawing myself towards my Castle and my Court.
• Talked with Cecil. ... Birthday plans.
• Starting to suspect the reconnection might cosmically be for my benefit.
• I'm a cat.
• Dreamt that I was in the old brooklyn apartment (Park Slope). In the bathroom. 
• I took a piss in the dark (saw no reason to turn on the light), but the stream was going everywhere, and I couldn't control it no matter what I did. I silently cursed at the annoyance of this.
• Turned on the light. Began to clean up. But Sylvester, our cat, would not get away from the bowl no matter how hard I pushed. Eventually, he stretched his butt over the toilet and started to pee. 
• Astonishment, clearly.
• When he was done, he got down and I tried to flush, but the tank was giving me trouble.
• Wouldn't flush properly, and the water was turning soapy/sudsy.
• Sylvester, then, jumped into the bowl, drenching his entire body in our urine.
• Supremely aggravated, clearly.
• He got out, and I got the toilet to flush. Turned on the bathtub faucet to wash him. 
• He wasn't having it, 'though initially curious.
• I cleaned the mess around the toilet bowl. And that's all I recall.
• Other than the fleeting lucid thought that I ought to remember this dream.
• Thinking about job situation: Scaggs of resumes I've sent for various types of jobs over the course of a month.
• Not so much as an interview???
• Suspecting cosmically imposed standstill.

Mid-Day Image:

www.lamarlewis.com

Daily O 2B

Tonight @ 1:

• My sister and I are doing well thanks to Words With Friends and a suicidal cousin.
• Read a lot today. Didn't write again.
• Noticed something new happening when I meditate: My body temperature rises a lot. My clothes are stuck to my skin with sweat even with the AC confirming that the room temperature has dropped.
• At least the third time I've noticed this.
• What is that about? 'Cause when I sleep with the AC on, I wake up freezing in the morning.
• Something weird happened in my brain while watching TV: In a random moment, suddenly, I could feel a whirring inside my brain, and a sense of spacial movement or expansion. At least, I think that's what it was.
• Nothing prompted this. I was doing nothing special. I ate nothing weird today. And one could say that all I did today was sit on my butt, which was no different than the day before. Just in the living room.
• So why and what happened escapes me.
• It lasted no more than 5 seconds. But I felt it. So strongly that I tuned-out of the show to take note.
• My thought being: "What... the fuck... is THAT?"
• Have noticed a spiritual presence hanging out on my left from time to time this past week. Not when I'm outside though.
• Haven't been outside much.

Daily O. 2A

Today @ 3:

• Still no sign of change yet.
• The whisper of trees, and the feel of the breeze outside the kitchen window is everything to me.
• That gray shed is the doorway to the secret garden and worlds beyond...
• Lucille Ball movie marathon on TCM is about to empty my DVR.
• Was reminded that I knew of a tranny in my high school. She was fearless.
• The song "Avril 14th" by Aphex Twin has been haunting me.
• Its been a long time between hauntings.
• Reinvigorated my Model Mayhem profile. Its more honest.
• My mom is right: Letting the outside in (by way of opening all the windows) is good for the soul. Sometimes.
• Am I escaping too much?
• Had a burning desire to run outside and be a part of it all at 2AM last night.
• Didnt.
• Still in love with the color of my skin.
• Discovered that my thoughts towards my inevitable Husband's nationality are racist. 
• On an enlightened level I do not care. But in my mind there's a preference.
• Love the sound of silence.
• Applied for a job as an A&F model. Ironic.

Mid-Day Image:

www.lamarlewis.com

Daily Observations 1B

Tonight @ 1AM:

• It's been 20 years, and my best friend and I are still spending hours on the phone together.
• Talked about books, TV plot holes, the light and shadow of our twin souls.
• His son, Felix, made good interruptions.
• Still SYTYCD obssessed. Watching the reruns twice, and recording it while simultaneously hunting down YouTube clips is proof of this.
• I file away my favorites knowing full-well I'll be hiring them in due course.
• Cherries are delicious.
• Reinvested in "Game of Thrones" Book 5.
• I've been spending a lot of time alone.
• Flirted with the idea of being a famous pop singer. Thanks, Rihanna.
• Wondering what a "change of direction" looks like, and entails (referencing latest Beacons of Light broadcast at lightworker.com).
• Proud that I've successfully hit a Twitter groove. No longer feel like a pop culture misfit.

Daily Observations 1A

Preface: I've decided that it would be extremely beneficial (in ways I hope to discover) that every day I put down stark, honest, quick observations on myself, my environment, and my daily experiences. Twice daily, that is.

Today @ 3:

• I smell.
• Love my faux-bald do!
• The sun is always calling me.
• Wrote more of "Legacy" bylaws.
• Impressed with the headway I'm making.
• Got deeply stuck on Food Library rules & regs. ... Unprecedented.
• Sex is a distraction (naked men, truly).
• Endeavoring to be more comfortable with recent FB profile photo. Many comments.

Self-Captured Image of Inspiration, Mid-Day Summation:

www.lamarlewis.com

Milan & Prague: Dueling Banjos

I'm gonna try to sum-up Milan before it completely vanishes from my memory:

Milan — an industrial city. Practically every street corner, building, and avenue resembles (almost to the letter) any mid-level city in the U.S. (i.e. Kansas City, Cincinnati, New Orleans, Atlanta, Sacramento).

Italians do not like Milan for much the same reason. They say it in no way depicts a "true Italy" or an Italian way of life.

Therefore, my pre-apologies for an experience in Milan that is in no way romanticized.

My week there was all work, business, and regimented. 'Though I had much more time and opportunity to see the sights of Milan than i had in Rome, Milan sadly boasts few attractions (The Duomo, and museums, museums, museums). Other than fine restaurants, it is a city of business; one of their main ones being fashion. And lo and behold, as The Cosmos would have it, I was there during Fashion Week!

Initially, I was extremely excited by this. But only for the most selfish of reasons (I hoped to be discovered). But that porcelain dream quickly dissolved when I spotted my first model on the subway: Tall, bony boys with lanky hair and elongated torsos in tow of angular women in shapeless tops; both with eyes either too large or too small for their heads. — I just didn't see the fascination with them nor the attraction and appeal.

You know how they say gymnastics at an early age can stunt a child's growth? Well, somehow I felt the same was at play with these creatures, yet differently. Since they never took gym class or played sports or did anything athletic, that the unbalance of this evidenced itself during the growth-spurts within their teenage years. And so while they matured vertically, they didn't mature horizontally as well; resulting in waifishness and child-like facial features — like a toddler on stilts.

And somehow this is beauty.

Then I saw the entirety of their careers flash by, many of their successes exhausted the very hour of it's celebration. And then all I could feel was an enormous pity for them.

This all happened within seconds, mind you.

And my blue feelings towards the "models" only seemed to strengthen as the week wore on because they were EVERYWHERE. Tons of 'em.

Now onto the Show...

Teatro Franco Parenti is the best theater I have ever been to. It has at least five theaters within the entire complex. And an Olympic-size pool in the back that they're renovating so they can turn it into — what? — A theater! A theater you can SWIM in! I love it!

The whole place is a labyrinth of play spaces, wooden stairs, white hallways, and grey offices. Our first day there, I snuck off to do some exploring and found the stage of my dreams: It's small, intimate, raised; equipped with chandeliers, red velvet chairs, scenic flies, projection screen, exposed rigging, and the simplest lighting plot.

I've decided that I'm manifesting working/creating at Teatro Franco Parenti for the rest of my life (It is done).

During the week, we played to packed houses (300+ a night). Our audiences loved me, thankfully. And after our last performance, one of the theater's producers came into my dressing room to congratulate me, saying (and I quote) "I love watching you. And I personally find your performance brilliant." I expressed my gratitude humbly, and asked his name...

"Frederico." He replied.
"Well, its very nice to meet you, Frederico."
"Frederico Parenti." He continued.
"Oh!" I gasped.
... Yup, you guessed it. I was just complimented by the son of the theater's founder.
  After quickly lifting my jaw off the floor, I easily snapped into networking mode, and told him that I'd gladly work at their theater again in a heartbeat. He seemed to understand what I was suggesting but instead suggested that I study at the Dance Academy of Milan, oddly enough, what with all my acrobatics in the show.

Also, I'm certain he was hitting on me.
Italian men, thankfully, leave you little reason to doubt such things.

Now onto Prague...

I'm not gonna miss Milan much (with the exception of Teatro Franco Parenti). But Prague made me miss all of Italy... hardcore.

Prague is... is... is... um... pretty.
There are castles. And the architecture for Every. Single. Building. is a work of art.

 

 


But honestly, I feel no love here.
I almost wish I had done this tour in reverse. 'Cause Italy is like a human heart: messy, bleeding, red, and the seat of all emotion. Prague is like the perfect human hair-do: pretty, well-done, artful, perfectly coiffed. But really just masking a bald landscape.

Don't get me wrong. I don't hate this place. I just don't love it. And I promise you I won't miss it.

The women are gorgeous flawless ice queens. And the men are... not. At least not to me.
Yeah, I know they're supposed to be one of the top regions of the world for birthing the most beautiful boys, but honestly, I don't see it.

They're too pretty, scarless, and hairless for me (see "model" rant above).

International Staring Contest

Everyone here stares at me... Long and hard. And I'm talking about from blue-haired grannies to blue-eyed babies. And I know it has nothing to do with my race because there are other black, brown, and yellow people here. And the black people here are BLACK. — So really, I have no idea why I get the looks. But it doesn't phase me. I just stare right back at them as I'm crossing their immaculate streets until they turn away, having silently made up their minds about me.

I know I carry my own brand of magic wherever I go... But really?

At Present

I am ten minutes away from my last day in Prague. Then I have a 24hr layover in Milan (nothing exciting. I'll be far from the city, sequestered in a hotel airport) before I'm back in the United States. Beyond that is my future... A veritable sea of possibilities.

I have no shows scheduled to begin rehearsals... Yet.
No home to call my own... Yet.
No money flow... Yet.

Just words on the wind.
And visions in my head.

I'll in many ways be returning home to a blank canvas with a palette of new colors. What's next is news to me.

But of course, I'm no stranger to this (he says with a knowing smile and a twinkle in his eye).

Rome is Where the Heart Is

Preface: I have pictures for this blog, but they're all on my mobile; which is how I'm posting this blog. And blogspot won't allow me to upload them. — And, folks, I took some equisite pictures of this gorgeous city (See Facebook). So, imagine if you will...


Much of the week's events are jumbled together in my brain; mainly because all of us have had very little time to enjoy Rome. And we rehearsed or performed every single day of this week. And since the cast has been spending SO much time together because of this, there's also been TONS of drama. I've managed to slink by unnoticed (I think). And whenever there've been fights/arguments/heavy silences I've worn the ball of my heel down to a nub pivoting out of the room. Not because I believe in avoidance, no. Y'all know me. I'm a counselor at heart. — But I'm in Italy for the first time, so whatever's going on with everybody else can take a backseat. Hell, it can fall off the hood for all I care.

Most of the week consisted of waking up late, being shuttled away to the theater, and catching glimpses of Rome from the window of our BMW. Then performing the show at 9:45 every night (even though we were supposed to start at 9 — slow Italians), finishing the show around midnight. Shuttle to our apartments. Eat dinner at 1am. Sleep... Lather, Rinse, Repeat.

We had two days out of the week where we could see the city before our evening performance. One of those days I dedicated to keeping my promise to Mateo and Ashley (more on that later), while the rest of the cast went to the Coliseum. The second day I slept through 65% of it off and on, like a cat, while the rest of the cast went to The Vatican. — Oh, yeah. I did clean the apartment, wash all the dishes, sweep, and do the laundry. So I wasn't, completely listless. But my body needed the rest. This show is a workout. I'm in a crouch and standing on my toes for nearly all of it.

Anywho,
Saturday I went to the Coliseum on my own steam, and caught a bit of EuroPride which was being hosted in Rome this year. You can pay to go in and see The Forum as well, but I knew I wouldn't want to do either. 

I know it may seem crazy, but I just can't go into a museum of ANY kind while in a foreign country. I can understand why other people would want to, but I know that if I did, I'd be pissed when I was finished. Why?

Well, there's a whole WORLD of people and live experiences happening outside the walls of that museum or church. Why would I waste a single second staring at dead statues made by dead people. Because it's beautiful? Because it's historical? Yes, but real live beauty is happening right now, at this very moment, and I'd be missing it to crane my neck back at the past. And historical? I'm MAKING history dammit! — I'm in Italy!

Needless to say, I spent not even a full minute in front of The Coliseum and The Forum, before I was ducking into some alley, or walking down a cobbled street sucking Rome into my lungs...

Here's the truth of it, kids:
I. Love. Rome.
This IS my city. It's everything that NYC is, but older and with massive amounts of charm. I love that I can wake up in a city that rises at exactly the same time that I do: 11:30am. Then, an hour later they take lunch, create/work through the evening, and dine and dance till midnight.

The traffic is terrible. Executives ride Vespas to work. It's noisy. Romans talk with their hands. The tourists are everywhere. The teenagers are the most lascivious, lecherous, salacious, promiscuous creatures I've ever encountered (I saw a boy lift his fanny pack to push his boner into his girlfriend's back, and I swear the pair of them were no higher than my hip!) — And I love it! I love ALL of it!

Their subway system only has two lines for an incredibly crowded city, and yet I've never felt stressed about it 'cause you never — I repeat — never have to wait more than 3mins for the next train.

I swear to the high heavens that this is the city I want to Eat, Pray, Love in.
Not Rome with it's Coliseum, Parthenon, Vatican, and Basilica. But the Rome of today, with it's leaning bookstalls, wailing streetcars, towering angels, weary gladiators, flower shops dotting every sidewalk, stately doorways, smokin' hot polizia, fountained piazzas, ebullient gellaterias, and graffiti, graffiti, graffiti...

And I did have one of those moments where I felt like Julia Roberts — I mean, Liz Gilbert — where I was walking through an alley, turned the corner, and saw God's brilliance staring back at me...

I caught a glimpse of the EuroPride parade, and the stage where Lady Gage was set to perform a free concert in the park, but I had to leave to do a performance of my own.
Gaga and I will meet in our own time.

So you want to know if I bedded an Italian boy (*he says like Hedwig on a pile of tires)...

Yes... Two.
The first is Davide. An acrobat (yes, really). He had a thin, soft, tenor voice. Curly sandy locks; crystal blue eyes, ridiculous pecs, and a haughty smirk. 

The sex was fine. But he was thinking far too much.

After him was Pietro... A very, very, very Italian man. A little older, swarthy, thickly stubbled, slender, black hair everywhere, and carried with him a sweet silence hidden behind dark, dark eyes.

If the problem with Davide was that he wouldn't let go, then Pietro was ALL about letting go. The sex was a dance. And afterward, in his quiet, shy, way he kept asking when I would be leaving Rome, and when I would be coming back. 

It's sweet to be missed, but (and forgive me for this) I view both experiences as a "cleaning of the pipes". It had been so long since I had gotten any... And I was in Rome... And I promised my friends...

It was kinda like how everyone in the cast kept badgering me about seeing the Coliseum: "You're not gonna go to Italy and NOT see the Coliseum, Lamar!"

That's how I view Davide and Pietro. Something I just had to do. Not "had to" like "I had to go to work on a Saturday". But "had to" like "I had to go to my best friend's birthday party, no matter how tired I am."

I'm glad I did it. — It was not at all romantic; even in the way I met both of them (Grindr). But I'm glad I did it.

I feel like now I've paved the way, or cleared my head for something more real and true. Probably in Milan.

It was a lot like snacking before a meal: You shouldn't do it, but you don't regret it. — You're still hungry for dinner, though. It is, after all, a snack.

Some tips on Rome:

— Be aggressive... 'cause they are.
If you're a NYer you're set. Shove with pride. They'll smile at you for doing so.

— If you happen to be someone who is perpetually late to meetings, dates, and functions, worry no more. Everybody is. And since they run on a different clock, you'll ALWAYS be seen as punctual 'cause I guarantee you the Italian is running further behind.

— Never take the bus. Even if you're sure you're on the right one. If you ask the driver if it will stop at your stop, and even show him that stop on a printed schedule, he may dismiss it with a shrug, or deny it flatly. He's thinking "Maybe, I'll stop there today. Maybe I won't. Let's find out together."

— The city is overrun with cats. So no rats or roaches. ... Another reason I love this place.

That's it, my loves.
My train is pulling into Milan...

Italy: "A Week of Firsts"

Let's get the mundane details out of the way:

- Check-in was fine except for a few schisms that bristled me, as I was trying hard to shrug off the last vestiges of my New York quills.
  When I went to check my luggage it was full. So the attendant directed myself, Laura , and Steve (who were also checking luggage) to follow another attendant to a different baggage area. I was slightly off-put by this, but hoped they knew what they were doing. When the three of us gave our luggage over to a third attendant (who thoroughly looked as if he couldn't give a shit), I pushed forward and pointedly asked him if my luggage was going to Italy. But his reply only succeeded in stoking my suspicions: "Ah!" He grunted his affirmation with his head down.
  Security was probably the easiest part. I packed light (as I always do). And was only slightly worried about the ziplock bag of cherries my mother handed me before we got in the car for JFK. But to my surprise they weren't confiscated. I didn't even have to do the full-body scan, which seemed weird considering everybody in the terminal was booked for an international flight. — Oh well.

- Once I got to the gate and met up with the rest of the cast, I was fine, until I looked at my ticket. They had changed my seat; a seat which I had pre-booked online a full week prior to checking-in. In fact, the entire cast had been strongly advised to do this by Nannette, in a meeting we had before we left to insure that no one would be left behind due to overbooking by the airline. So I was beginning to get pissed. —More confused than pissed, though. Why would they change my seat at the last minute when i had already locked that in prior? It just didn't make any sense. I voiced this complaint to the rest of the cast and a few suggested the work of divine intervention. Laura suggested that maybe I'll be seated next to a hot Italian soccer player. To which Steve added "yeah. — I hope she's nice."
  And, it seemed no one else in the cast had the same problem. No one had their seat changed. The only one who came close was Nannette, who, ironically enough, didn't book her seat online like she had advised everyone else to do, so was assigned a seat at check-in. She shared in my angst and annoyance, hoping that whomever she inevitably sat next to wasn't a "first class dick". So we joked about our impending misery as we boarded the plane, Nannette sidling in front of me down the aisle, tickets aloft.
  In the middle of an aisle/carry-on traffic jam, she decided that perhaps we switch places in line so that i wouldn't be stuck behind her if her seat was in front of my own.
  "Well, what's your row?" I asked.
  "28." She replied.
  "I'm 28!" I gasped.
  "What seat?" She asked.
  "'E'" I said.
  "I'm 'F'!" She shrieked.
   And then we both laughed far too loud about the whole thing.
  "Do you mind taking the window seat?" She asked once we got there.
  "I PREFER the window seat!" I exclaimed.
  "Oh good," she chuckled. "Because I HAVE to sit in the aisle. I have a bladder the size of a peanut."
  Divine intervention indeed.

- My flight was magnificent. 8hrs that breezed by. The jet was stylish, complete with tv screens on the back of each seat, equipped with free movies and music in both English and Italian. We sat on the Tarmac for a long time, but once we got in the air, I quickly forgot it.

  I had intended to sleep through most of the flight, and took a sleep aid from Laura (pic). But when I took it immediately after our yummy dinner, it had absolutely no effect. Not even drowsiness. So I was up for the duration.
  Not a worry. I watched two movies, and listened to music for the rest of it.
And just like that, we were flying over the Swiss Alps. And then soon after, landing in Pisa.

- The thirteen of us passed through customs without a problem (you never know with actors). And collected our luggage. Our driver was ready with the van once we stepped out into the beating Italian heat. So we hopped on, and drove another 3hrs through Tuscany to the small coastal village of Forte dei Marmi; stopping twice along the way for snacks and use of the bathroom.

  Finally, we arrived at the house of Moratti, the home where Celeste grew up. And what a home! Acres of land, gardens boasting flowers, corn, beans, tomato, lettuce. Olive trees, lemon trees, apple trees, and rosemary bushes that bend taller than Michael Jordan (seriously). Everything these people eat, they grow.
  And oooooohhhhh!!! I haven't eaten this well even when I lived in Seattle. Every day there's freshly baked focaccia bread, and the sharpest cheeses I have ever tasted. Fresh pruscetta and fruits are constantly on display. And wine! Jesus! I can honestly say I have had more wine in this one week than I've ever consumed in my entire life. They drink it with EVERYTHING. So, to counter-balance that, I've definitely consumed more bottled water than ever as well.
Ok, back on track.
Celeste's house sits nestled in the valley of the "Marble Mountains" (translated from the Italian), which is the place where Michaelangelo got his marble for every statue he created.

The view of it is stunning when the sun hits it. Brilliant white and charcoal grey. ... And waaaaaayyyy in the distance, near the top, stuck in the side of the edifice, you can spot a collection of the whitest marble which — from our vantage point — looks like some kind of ancient mountain fortress (which it isn't). And half of my cast is convinced that it's the italian version of Hogwarts (which it is).

- An hour later, the cast checks-in to the Bed & Breakfast (Pensione Villa Elena) where we'll be resting our heads for the week. Mike gives us our room assignments. Steve & I are put together (I wonder if it's a gay thing). We're all given our very own bikes (la bicciclette) for the week to get around the town as we please. I name mine "Thunder", since that is what was embossed in gold on the seat.

Everyone freshens-up, takes a bath. But I head to the beach...
The cast was given access to a private beach hosted by a friend of the Moratti family. I waste no time. I get quick directions (literally two blocks from the B&B), and get my ass some sun.
  To say its "amazing" cant do a Tuscan beach justice. You have the milky blue and brown water of the Mediterranean followed by the golden sands of the beach. Immediately following that, you have verdant and lush green trees and fields, followed by the "Marble Mountains". All of which you can see from any point on the beach.
I bathe myself in cocoa butter like a chicken.
Bake. Brown. Turn...
Brown. Turn... And bake some more.
I cooked for three hours under the Tuscan sun and I look DARK. Like Brazilian/Cubano dark (Mateo, I swear I could be Arturo's brother). Then i head to the pool and bar for some cocktails with the cast, and everyone cant get over how dark I've gotten. Most of them couldnt even conceive that i could tan at all to begin with (duh!) But by the time we leave to go back to the B&B, it becomes apparent to everyone that this chicken is overcooked. I burned. My shoulders, forehead, and nose are a deep raspberry. Since then, my nickname from the cast has been either "chocolate strawberry" or "black cherry".
   A few hours later, it's back to the Moratti house for a dinner cooked by her maid, Funi (pronounced "funny", with the stress on the second syllable).
Everyone takes full advantage of the house and hospitality and wine and gets way too drunk. Even I knew I had to reel it in when I found myself sitting alone in a room brooding over my empty glass, feeling lonely. So I sobered up quickly (bottled water), and headed to the fields. I stared at the night sky and thanked God for my blessings: "I'm in Italy. Tuscany. I'm well-fed, and staring at the stars.... Thank You."

Back at the house, the actors were doing their best to conjure up drama that would boil over and scald themselves for the next three weeks. And yet I was standing outside the house, away from all that... (another thing to thank God for).

Later, I got back on Thunder, biked back to Villa Elena. And that ends the first night of my Week of Firsts in Italy.

Here are some highlights from the rest of the week:

Monday
— Beach.
Yes, again. I've fallen in love with my own color.

Tuesday
— Rehearsal at Casa Moratti.
— Beach.
— Biking with Andrew & Kevin through the town of Forte Dei Marmi.

    With the palm trees everywhere, and the tall green hills blocking the view of the mountains, and high-walled villas, Tuscany can be easily confused with Hawaii, Cuba, or The Bahamas. But add the stores in town as well (like Prada, Gucci, Dolce & Gabbana), and the entire cast agreed that Forte Dei Marmi looks exactly like Hollywood Hills.

Wednesday

— Took the train with Andrew & Kevin to Pisa and the small, walled medieval village of Lucca.

— Walked across the train tracks to get to the next platform! (Italians do it without a second thought. Like crossing a street. No 3rd rail! Just look both ways, and go!) It felt so wrong and yet so good!

— Got hit-on big time by a train conductor on the way to Lucca. He was shy at first, but my straight cohorts, Andrew & Kevin, instigated and amped-up my game. Soon the conductor and I were stopping the world around us with our lingering glances that were folded within the pauses of our conversation. He was smokin' hot. Swarthy, young, olive skin, deep brown eyes, barrel-chested. ... But I never caught his name. Too soon our train reached Lucca, and we had to separate. Our goodbyes were the stuff of a teen miniseries: long, drawn-out, and full of giggles.

Thursday
— Dress Rehearsal at Casa Moratti.
— Four course dinner at authentic Italian restaurant.... I cried over my meal (Mom, you would have too if you had seen the size of the scrimps).

Friday
— Beach/Pool & cocktails.
— Performance at Casa Moratti in the fields, between the olive trees... Priceless.
— Skinny-dipped in the Mediterranean Sea at midnight with a drunk, "confused" nineteen year old Italian boy named Roberto I met that night after the show. (my idea... Totally sober... Frigid water and I didn't care one bit)... Oh, yeah... He friended me on Facebook.
(Nothing happened that night. I'm way too smart for that)

Saturday
— Packed-up the set for the show.
— Beach.
— BBQ dinner at the house of the owner of the private beach.
— First time on a trampoline.
— First time in a treehouse.
— First time sliding down a pole... No really.

Sunday
— Day trip to "Cinque Terre" ("the Five Lands"; a strip of five small villages along the Mediterranean coast). A seven-mile hike connects them. It's been raining off and on all week, so three of the five villages were closed due to mudslides along the trail. But we hiked through the first town and hopped a train to hike the last.
  The hike was hard, stony, and mostly uphill. But the views were spectacular. And the water was crystal clear blue.

  In the last village — a seaside resort — I sunbathed while Andrew, Kevin, Nina, and Derrick (our Stage Manager) went for another dip in the water. Not even fifteen minutes into our respite but the clouds gathered darkly over the beach, and a sudden gust of hurricane winds brought all bathers ashore, seeking shelter, while seamen scattered the sands to batten-down ropes and rigging.
It was wild! I think I was the only one who enjoyed it. (Matt, it was like watching Storm at work, I swear!)
— Dinner at a very posh Italian wine bar (six courses), that had the awesomest display of bathroom reading material in French. And the hottest waiters.

Monday (Today)
— Packed. Went to the market to get some cheap groceries before I head to Rome's tourist-priced ones.
— Bid farewell to my faithful bike, Thunder, as well as Casa Moratti and the "Marble Mountains".
— Barely caught the train to Rome with the cast.

A side-note on three things I've noticed about Italy and Italians:

Dinner
— Italians take their sweet-ass time to do anything (and I do mean "sweet"). They don't rush. And when you make an appointment, expect the Italian to show-up 30-45mins later. I mean it. Every night this week I had dinner at 10 or 11 in the evening (at restaurants, mind you), and left after one in the morning (no wonder they take siesta from 12:30pm — 2pm!).
This is why I barely caught my train to Rome, 'cause the cars that were hired to take us to the station crawled into the lot of the B&B twenty minutes late.

Language
— The one things that Italians DON'T do slowly is talk. I seriously understand one word for every five sentences they utter. .... Thanks, Rosetta Stone.

Men
I swear, Italian men are not shy about what they like or what they want.
My confidence in my own self-image and beauty has skyrocketed exponentially since I've been here. And all because the men STARE at me like I'm a piece of pruscetta. I've gotten hardcore peeps from a boy on a bridge, lifeguards on the beach, busboys, a pair of brothers on their way to the local bar. Today, a really hot young exec-type slowed-down in his car, held up traffic, and grinned broadly as I crossed in front of him on the way to the supermarket (attraversiamo, Ashley!).

No sex yet.
I've been far too busy enjoying my own relationship with Tuscany. The only thing I've found in my bed when I wake up has been sand.

But I must close this chapter now. My train is pulling into Rome... And that will be a different tale to tell.

Ciao! Loves!

Things to come?
I just found out that this Saturday is EuroPride in Rome...

Going Away!

Hello My Loves,

As most of you know, I am heading to Europe for a month to tour a show, and create another for a festival (Pisa, Rome, Milan, and Prague!). 

Just about all my expenses are taken care of except one: Food.

Now you've all heard me say time and again that my absolute favorite gift is food.

It's often made with love, and the sentiment always counts. 

However, we still live in a world where ya can't ship perishables to and from foreign lands. 

Even sending non-perishables gets complicated as my residence in both Italy and Prague will change from week to week.

So I've setup a PayPal account for you to drop happy edibles in. 

I agonized over setting this up, 'cause you all know how difficult it is for this self-reliant hero to ask for help, let alone money. 

But a dear loved one assured me that there's no harm in the asking of it.

And if I end up with $50, then I'm richer than when I started, no?

I figure $10 multiplied by each individual who loves me could easily yield fruit (perishable).

The link is below: Whatever you give will not only keep this artist fed, but fueled to bring the world more light than ever before...

And I promise, promise, promise to take lots of pictures with my phone. Indeed, that will be the ONLY thing I will be doing with my phone while abroad. 

Plus, look for videos on my YouTube page (http://www.youtube.com/user/leo13free?feature=mhee), and blogs on my blogsite (http://www.blogger.com/profile/03471576164217673913). If you need to reach me, email will be the best way.

I love you all so much. This year so far has been PHENOMENAL! 

And truly, when I'm away from you that is when I think of you most.

Here you Go:

https://www.paypal.com/

(My PayPal Account email address is leo13free@gmail.com)

P.S.

Here's the Italy Tour: http://www.hyperiontheatreproject.com/Midsummer.html

And the Prague Festival: http://www.pq.cz/en/

Hyperbolic

Preface: This one jumps from topic to topic like the bunny we're due to celebrate next Sunday. Consider the page breaks a leap in consciousness. It will all congeal in the last half.



There's a long list of things I'm supposed to do.
And Tony said I need to quiet the voices in my head.
He said the best way to do this is to create lists...
     (Learn Italian. Memorize your lines. Write. Manage your website. Pickup that book from Barnes & Noble. Attract ways to make money without sacrificing who you are. Make money with your art. Save. Meditate. Meditate. Meditate. Attract opportunities to move from your mother's couch. Save. Write. Meditate.)
   That's probably the most honest and recent one I've got, so far. The voices are actually louder; more driving; persistent. Demanding. ("You have to... ")
    I'm appeasing one of them right (write!) now by doing this.
    Yet, I could be meditating right now. My window for meditation in my mother's home is not very long.
    And when I don't do it, I feel it.
    I definitely feel it.
    My 3rd eye feels it. There's a pinching right there, in between my eyebrows. And if I'm distracted by the day, I don't feel it until the end. Otherwise, its a nagging tension; constant. I find myself half-consciously placing my thumb and forefinger there to relax it. Not knowing (yet knowing) that my body is telling me "Release me. Open me up. I need to see."
    Meditate.

    (I keep feeling this pressure.)
    They say there aren't enough hours in the day.
    Somehow, I disagree with that. There are.
    But I feel this pressure. This pressure to get so much done.
    (I get restless too. But this aint that.)
    And the pressure is not just me on myself. Its the outside voices too. (I won't list those. To do so seems to give them more power than they deserve.)

    And if I don't learn Italian, I'll be fine, won't I?
    I'll get to Italy, and be fine.
    And if I don't meditate, it's okay. 'Cause I will eventually.
    And there's always my dreams...
    And I'll write... I'll always write. Eventually, I'll write.

    And it's hard not to believe that my husband will take all this away. Because he won't. These problems, these frustrations --- they're mine.
    And even if he wanted to take them away, he couldn't really.
   Nor would I (or should) ask that of him.
   Bugger it. 'Cause I can't meet him till I fix/reconcile/work on these things myself anyway.

    And I keep reminding myself "It's only April, Lamar. It's only April. --- Look at all you've accomplished in four months... You've got at least eight left to be exactly who you want to be. --- And you'll get there... You already are... You're right on schedule, love. ... Chill out. You're doing fine."
    (That's a good voice.)

   I think my "Saturn Return" is done.
   Or maybe its done when I Arrive.
   I turn 30 this year. Yes, but it feels like it's already done.
   How do I know this? Well... Things don't seem to be as hard as they used to be.

   Write. Write. Write.
   I think writing this Rom-Com I've been meaning to write will be good for me. It'll be a good outlet for the part of me that loves my husband, and has already met him in some alternate reality veiled over this one.

   I am so desperate to make love.
   To give myself completely to someone.
   Casual partners don't seem to interest me in the way it once did. Nor the sex.
   Yes, there's a cursory curiosity that I have when I check my "sex gmail" account, and read the private jock party invitations. There is a cursory excitement.
    And then, throughout the week leading up to the party I'll entertain the idea; casually allowing it to slip  into my thoughts. But then it quickly seems to fly out again.
   Perhaps I'm done with that. Heaven knows I'd like to be.
   And heaven knows how many times I thought I was, and then find myself walking right back in again.
   But I don't like how I feel when I'm there.
   I don't like how those parties make me feel. Even as sex-positive as they are. (But I'm the culprit of that, aren't I? Those parties are really nothing unto themselves. --- What does Hamlet say? "Nothing is good or bad, but thinking makes it so.")
   I feel I have to try to be someone when I'm there. I see myself shrugging on a piece of armor; or a suit of power. And it takes work to do that. Every time. I just want to walk in and be me.
   And I think I've achieved that for the most part. I don't take rejections personally anymore. And I realized that some of those rejections are because I either rejected them first, or, I've hadn't allowed my light to shine bright enough to begin with.
   And my triumphs are proven by the fact that I've been fucked by guys I once thought I could never attract, because they were super hot, and I counted myself so beneath them.
   Not anymore.
   I am hot.
   And that game with myself is over. (Another reason I don't go to those parties. --- Because it sends my thoughts down a cyclical steam of consciousness that was never healthy. And the best way to stop that negative conversation with myself is just to take myself out of that environment entirely.)
   God, and not one of those guys could give me what I really wanted anyway: Love.
   And I can honestly see the reason why I wanted to go, and started to go to those parties in the first place: Acceptance.
   Well, I got it. And I didn't really need it. Because the kind of "acceptance" that really worked on my soul was accepting myself.


   And now?
   I'm talking to this guy. And by talking I mean emailing.
   I've been emailing this guy who's Craigslist ad I responded to a few days ago.
  He's straight (self-proclaimed). Married (but separated). And attempting to explore new sexual vistas.
  I told him that, at this point, I'm looking for a lover who is honest, direct, and up-front (can't take the NY out of the boy); 'cause I don't have time to waste in that arena (my husband's coming!), and I'm just so tired of playing games ('cause when that's all said and done, and you actually meet, there's a whole other waltz you've got to toe into).
   He seemed to respect my principles, and was honest and direct enough to admit that he's not looking for a LTR with a guy. Just something meaningful, and predominately sexual, and ongoing.
   And so far, once we relayed our sexual preferences/desires/appetites/attributes, it seems we're sexually compatible (on paper).
   So we jumped that hurdle.
   Now onto the next: He asked for my number, which I gave him. And said he'd call.
   That was nearly two days ago.
   Don't worry. I'm not hung up on it. People get busy. Especially in NY. (And he told me as much, in an email, apologizing yesterday --- completely unprompted.)
   Mainly, I keep telling myself that if he does call, "be yourself". --- Because by lying about any part of who I am, I am only delaying his reaction to the truth; which will inevitably waste both of our time, if either of us should choose to walk away from this.
   Even optimistic-wise, if we both turn out to be totally into each other, I could be keeping us from having a positive experience because of my own unfounded fears; even if for only a day. (--- well, not totally unfounded. Those fears stem from years of allowing terrible wounded queers to lacerate me with their judgments on who I am and what kind of man I ought to be. But yes, its time we put the past behind us, and be done with it.)

   We'll see on that one.
   If something happens, of course, I'll let you know.

  
   I guess that's it.
   I didn't think I had a lot to say --- And lo, and behold...
   I wrote something.
   ... Now if I can just get on the floor, and meditate then...