How I Became an Activist

It.  Has.  Happened:
I've turned into one of those people...

I now regularly post status updates and links on my facebook page about the situation in Turkey.

I know what this means - most of my friends (having given the first few posts a cursory glance,) will now sigh and scroll right past them.

But maybe, just maybe, they will click on a link, or they might take a second to "like" what I've posted. And that's about all I can ask of my friends at the moment...  Turkey seems like a place that is so far away, physically and conceptually, from their worlds.  I get it.

Although I have long considered myself to be an intelligent, cultivated person, I have a confession: I used to read the front section of the New York Times last - after the Arts, Sports, Food, Style and Travel sections - if at all.

Now that I have somehow become a kind of revolutionary (as one friend joked on facebook,) I immediately scan the front page for news about Turkey, to see if what is printed in a respectable media source supports what I've been obsessing about online for the prior 24 hours.

A lot of people did read my previous blog post on the protests in Turkey from a few weeks ago, and I appreciate that very much; especially as there are so many issues and causes percolating in the world right now that are incredibly important:  Marriage Equality.  GMO-free foods.  Climate change.  Civil wars.

But what is happening in Turkey strikes such a chord with me that I can not stop sharing it with the people in my world.  Why a two-week vacation in an amazing country has led to my newfound fervor is immaterial.  I need you to know some things: that the police are violently attacking demonstrators.  That PM Erdogan is, among other things, blaming international media for the situation.  (Excuse me?)  That hotel lobbies where medics were tending to the injured have been tear-gassed.  That, last night, my friend in Istanbul had to shepherd young girls away from counter-protesters who were using long sticks to reach past the police to try and beat them.

I sit here, half a world away, sick to my stomach about the violence PM Erdogan is perpetuating.  He may have done some good things for the country in the past, but this megalomaniacal behavior is abhorrent.  The people are trying to stand up to him, and he brutally swats them away like an annoying fly, following his egotistical whims.  This has become unacceptable to me.

So I go to demonstrations, and sing along to Turkish songs and chants as best I can.  I post links on Facebook.  I write this blog article.  I paint my fingernail with a crescent moon and star like the Turkish flag.  I talk to people in person.  I check my email immediately when I wake up to read my friend's first-hand account of what is happening (and to make sure he and his friends are okay.)  I scan links and try and find a working live-feed from Istanbul, and then I watch it for hours.

And I hate that I can't do more.

For some serendipitous reason, I have embraced the cause of the demonstrators in Turkey.  And if you're reading this, then I have indeed become an activist, because the actions of one person - me - are having at least some ramifications.

I am squeaking out my voice to inform.  Will it make a difference?  I hope so.

If you share this, then it might...

What's Going on in Turkey - and Why You Should Care:

I have just returned from a two-week tour of Turkey.  It was somewhat of a random destination; my friend and I had not harbored Lifelong Dreams of Visiting the Land of the Ottomans or anything.  The tour dates simply fit in with our schedule, and it sounded like a "neat" place to visit.

But being there has changed my life.  I have seen much beauty - in the countryside, in intricate patterns, and in the people...

The day before we left, however, I saw something more.

You may know by now that what began as a peaceful sit-in by about 50 people of all ages has turned into a five-day battle between protesters across the country and the government, led by Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan.   The initial conflict centered around plans to raze trees in Gezi Park, part of Taksim Square, to build a shopping mall and tourist attraction.

When police responded harshly to the environmentalists, using tear gas and water cannons, something broke in the Turkish citizens.  People swarmed to Taksim from all corners of Istanbul, as the police kept on with bombardments of tear gas and water cannons, escalating the violence in ever-widening arcs.  Over the past four days, the conflict has risen and subsided and shifted, but has not resolved.  There are massive protests in many other cities in the country now as well.

How did this explode so quickly?  Are Turkish people REALLY that environmental?  In reality, it was just the straw that broke the camel's back.  For a long time, many Turks have mumbled about the controls PM Erdogan has been implementing, like alcohol restrictions and other "quality-of-life" legislation.  He is often referred to as a tyrant, a dictator, a sultan, and a controlling father-figure.  This situation was the final straw, and the people are making their voice heard, loudly and strong.

Last Friday night, some friends and I were having drinks at a rooftop bar to celebrate our final night in this amazing country.  Below us, waves of cheers and horn-honking rose and fell during the evening, with local Istanbulites peering down through the glass to watch.  We saw the helicopters a little ways away hovering over Taksim and the thrumming of their motors blended in with the DJ's music, but as a New Yorker accustomed to noise, I didn't take much notice.  At one point I got a tickle in my nose, and then my throat.  Looking around for cigarette smoke which I assumed was the cause, I noticed other people in our group registering discomfort.  Suddenly one of our friends, a diplomat, shouted, "tear gas!"  We all felt it.  The burning wasn't strong, and it dissipated quickly, but then again, we were over a mile away from Taksim Square.  When we crossed the bridge to hail a cab, we had to stop over and over again to clap along with people passing and cars driving by, horns blaring.  At this point, we knew there was a demonstration going on, and knew it had grown, but the details were hazy.

The following day, I met up with some Turkish friends at a cafe by the water.  They had gone to Taksim the night before, returning to their apartment when the tear gas got too strong.  They would wash their eyes and mouths and rest, and go back out again.  And again.  And again.  The next morning, after recharging by the Bosphorus for a few hours, they were heading back to Taksim Square.  One friend pulled out his phone to see a live speech by PM Erdogan.  People at neighboring tables leaned in to hear.  My Turkish is very rudimentary, but my friend translated the gist of it.  However, the most telling responses were the looks on his friends' faces - of disgust and disbelief.  When I said goodbye to return to my hotel and go to the airport, they headed straight back to Taksim.

Over the past few days, I have exchanged many short emails with this friend.  Of course I am worried about his and his friends' safety, but there is a part of me that is envious he is able to be in the thick of a modern revolution.  He speaks of the importance of this conflict for his country, and that his presence in Taksim is one of support.  I feel helpless all the way over here - I fell in love with Turkey and then abandoned it in a moment of crisis.  Aside from getting back on a plane to Istanbul, there is not much I can actually DO to help.  Except that my friend said, "Everyone can help when the time comes, for example you can start by talking about Turkey with your friends."

So that is what I'm doing.

We in the USA live in a land that is democratic and free, and too many people don't even vote.  Or they do, and then just sit and complain when the "other guy" wins.  Turkey is a secular muslim country and there IS a vote there - but whether these demonstrators voted for PM Erdogan or not (and many of them did,) they are not just sitting and complaining.  They are fighting for what they believe is right, and the power of the people is strong.

In the car on my way to the airport, a huge group of demonstrators crossed the highway, bearing flags and shouting and cheering and clapping.  As they swarmed past our car, I clapped and cheered along with them from inside.  One gentleman and I made eye contact for a few moments.  I saw the passion and determination in his eyes, and his gratitude for the support, the clarity of his convictions and his tenacity, all at once.  And that was possibly THE most beautiful thing I saw in Turkey.

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Please watch the news for the latest information, and please help by talking about Turkey with YOUR friends.  Thank you.

Elemental Plans

While I eschew the usual New Year's Resolutions, I do make lists of the 25 things I can accomplish in the year ahead.  These tend to be as benign as "read more" and as ambitious as "book a role in a new Broadway show."  But this year something else came to mind as a foundation for the year ahead:

The Four Elements.

Which are: Earth, Air, Fire and Water - the almost universally accepted building blocks of human life and the basis for our existence on this planet.  Big stuff, right?  But also... simple.

It struck me that returning to my elemental foundation might be an interesting idea to pursue this year.

And it wasn't hard to see why:


Water:  I love being on the water, for one thing.  On a boat, splashing around on the shore, swimming or bobbing in the waves... completely relaxing.  But also, drinking water; it's good for you (I think we all know that) but really making an effort to stay totally hydrated reaps incredible benefits.

Air: is breath.  I need to do more yoga - to integrate my breath consciously with a physical activity.  And I want to hike... to breathe fresh air while I am moving around the earth and not just sputtering away on a treadmill.  And to speak and sing properly, it must be done on the air.  Air is how a sailboat moves.  Air is flow.

Earth: Yes, being outside.  Feeling my feet on the ground.  But this echoes also as posture-related for me.  Standing straight and tall and owning my space, with my feet firmly supporting me on the ground underneath.  I like to get dirty in the earth.  I like to see the earth from different perspectives.

Finally, Fire: this screams AMBITION to me now.  Fire, as in the drive to pursue my goals relentlessly.  As Sande Shurin said in her Message for the year ahead, to meet challenge with rigor and vision and excellence.  This is Fire.  It is passion and intensity and strength and emotion.  It is tenacity.  It is an all-consuming belief in oneself.

As I pondered the four elements, I was not surprised to see just how inter-connected they are as well.  So I like the idea of recognizing that every little thing I put my focus on is part of the entirety of my life.  Elemental, my dear Watson.

Is This a Bad Idea?

I have to go buy an air conditioner.  I had one last year but it didn't work very well, and it was loud, so it was hard to sleep at night with it on, so anyway, I got rid of it and need a new one.

Today's my day off and I was planning on heading over to PC Richards... but I am wildly distracted because I have decided to write a memoir.

I am also writing a wine book this summer (that I'm very excited about,) but this new project leapt out of nowhere and put a stranglehold on me.  I have taken down from the shelf all of my journals spanning the last twenty-four years (yikes) and have been flipping through them, gathering information and steam... and I am already seven pages into writing:

The Definition of (Love) Insanity: An Investigative Report.

What I figured is: if the definition of insanity is repeatedly doing the same action yet hoping for different results, I have to apply the inverse to get a different result in my love life.  So I need to figure out what these past patterns of love have been in order to circumvent them.


I am only on page seven and think this is going to be really important for me.  I also think this is going to be something people will want to read.  But if my intention is to write a book, I wonder if mentioning real people (even if most of them are only referred to by their initials or aliases) is a good idea.  I mean, I have to mention them.  But what if they read the book and sue me for some ridiculous reason?


I guess I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.  For now, I'm crazy gung ho about sitting here and putting all of this down, even if it means I'm sweating in the heat and humidity.


So I guess, no, it's not a bad idea at all.

Control and Progress

I recently posted about how BEIGE I found Indianapolis.  Well, that was before the early spring triggered an explosion of color in this 'burg!  Pale pink dogwood blossoms, yellow daffodils, deep green grass, lavender trees, red tulips... a riot of color.   The beige has certainly blown away.

I am reminded how nature will continue to move forward, no matter what we do.  Global warm the place?  Ok, spring will still arrive, just earlier.  Vines will grow, bees will pollinate, ants will find their way inside my housemate's bedroom and freak her out... it seems impossible for nature to stagnate and cease its cycle.  Even death is not a full stop but a necessary part of that cycle.

This week I spent an incredible amount of time and money and effort to fly home for an audition.  I was happy I did so, regardless of the outcome.  However, when I found out today I didn't book the job, I wasn't really disappointed or upset - I was frustrated by the lack of control I felt.

An actor relinquishes nearly all control in his career: someone else decides to represent you, someone else decides to give you an audition appointment, someone else decides if they think you're a fit for their project, someone else decides where you should stand and how they want you to interact with other actors, someone else decides (in print) if they think you did a good job or not.  We are in control of very personal things related to our craft, but do not have a hand in the grand machine.

So the frustration nags for a moment, until I remind myself that I did a great audition (the casting director wrote my agent, "Loved hearing her sing that material!").  And that I even said the effort of going on this audition was just as valuable a building block of my career as booking a job.  And that just as the Japanese maple blooms and the daffodils burst, headway is being made.

It is not necessary to have a stranglehold of control to make vibrant, important progress.

Toasting with Bubbly

Tonight we opened the show!  It went so incredibly well, not that I expected any less.  We had an opening night party at a local brewery (which had nice wine, so all was grand,) and now I'm home and having a glass of bubbly to toast a milestone of sorts before I fall into bed, exhausted.

Bubbly is obviously a perfect catalyst for celebration and my professional Wineau side will wax rhapsodic on the subject as often as possible (cross-promotion: see www.wineminx.blogspot.com where there is a recent treatise on the joys resulting from secondary fermentation.)

In other words, it was worth it to me to open a bottle (not intended to be completely consumed in one sitting so potentially wasted) for the celebratory aspect.

I am celebrating freedom.

I am celebrating joy.

I am celebrating what theatre is about; transporting an audience.

This show, "Legally Blonde," may be one of the 'fluffiest' around, but it is so much fun to do - the audience has an absolute blast - and so do we on stage.

I am performing a leading role that is distinctive, humorous, and relatable.  I get to belt my face off, and have a ton of laugh lines.  And I get to work with a company that is talented, dedicated and all-around lovely and this is all reminding me why I fell for this career back when I was eight years old.

I couldn't be happier, and the only thing missing is someone special to clink this glass of bubbly with.  But that's for another day.  As Steven Wright beautifully said, "You can't have everything... where would you put it?"

This Place is So Beige...

I've been in Indianapolis for a week now... and this place is so beige.  It is winter, so the sky is mostly beige, and when there's no snow the ground is beige, and most of the buildings are beige.  This place is the opposite of Miami Beach.  Beige.

But I am part of a fantastic company doing its best to bring some Hot Pink to the area, and I think we're bound for success!  This is the first regional gig I've done in YEARS and I honestly didn't remember what it could be like.  But last night the company went to see the current show at the theater, and I was enveloped by a warm wash of love for this group and what we're doing.

The beige is melting away...