Category: Art

  • My Favorite Memory of Diane (Unedited)

    (This is a follow up on my post from Monday, which dealt with the passing of my dear friend and mentor, Diane Simons.)

    This was during the second year that I worked out at Hip Pocket theatre as their Marketing Director; which was a great title for a job that was 50% marketing work, and 50% everything else that needed to be done to keep the theatre running. It was a small one room office in a building on the property that was rather shanty looking, but also housed the bathrooms and small storage room. Stuff was everywhere, and Diane had a desk in there, along with a space for me to work, and another small desk for the guy, Adam, who was the Development Director, but like me, half of his job was development and the other half was whatever needed to be done.

    I’m pretty sure this happened during the run of “Bad Girls in the Big City” which was a show that sounds more risqué than it actually was, but it did have a very large cast of younger people in it. For that reason, after every show the cast would hang out on the property have a couple of beers and some wine. I wasn’t in this show, but with several friends in it, I would also take part in the post-show activities.

    Whatever night of the run it was, I was up in the office, closing it up. Then Diane came in, unopened bottle wine in hand, and looking a little flush, but smiling and giddy. She came in and sat down at her desk and started talking to me.

    I remember her joking with me about all the people out there, drinking and having a good time. How some things never change, theatre people are very social, and like having a good time.

    Then she shifted, and Diane became introspective and wistful. She went into this sweet melancholy story of being right out of college, and her and Johnny had gone down to Houston and got jobs at the Alley Theatre. And back then, after shows, they and friends from the theatre would go back to their place, and they would take things that would alter their thinking, and put on an album. They would turn down the lights, even light a candle, and just listen silently to the music.

    Diane stopped looking at me and just drifted off, looking to a corner of the office. I could tell she was reliving it all again. And then she smiled. She looked back at me and asked, “Do you do that? Do young people still do things like that?”

    I nodded. “Yeah, we still do that.”

    “Good.” Diane stood up, and grabbed her bottle of wine. “Have fun and don’t stay too late.” She swept out of the office, calling back to me; “See you tomorrow.”

  • The Last Time I Saw Diane (Unedited)

    (This is a follow up on my post from Monday, which dealt with the passing of my dear friend and mentor, Diane Simons.)

    I’m not 100% sure of what year it was. Somewhere between my wedding, and before my wife became pregnant with our daughter. So, that puts it between 2011 and 2013. It was in New York City, Spring or early Summer.

    Diane’s youngest daughter was performing a mime piece with another performer at P.S. 122. I’m friends with Diane’s daughter, and she tipped me off that her mother was going to be there. The wife and I had made plans to see this show, and with Diane being there, it was just a wonderful bonus. My wife had heard all about Diane, but she had never met her, so, and I won’t lie, I was excited for them to meet.

    When we arrived at the theatre, Diane, of all things, was working the “box-office” for this show. And I knew why, without anyone explaining it to me; Diane wanted to help out, and this is how she could help out. It had at least been three years, if not more, since the last time I saw her, and though she looked a little older, she still looked exactly the same. Gray hair up in a bun on the top of her head, big bifocal glasses, and the loose hippie style flowing clothing she always wore.

    Diane saw me and gave a huge smile, followed by a larger hug, ending with her holding my hand and asking me also sorts of questions. Then I introduced my wife to her, and she just about broke out in tears, hugged her, and held on to her hand as she asked her all kinds of questions to get to know my wife. It made me so happy to be ignored by Diane, as she joked and kidded and talked with my wife. We were there to see a show, so we had to leave her in the box-office and take our seats, but she asked me to not leave without saying goodbye.

    After the show, and it must have been the last performance of the piece, we got a chance to talk to Diane’s daughter, as tell her good show. Then she disappeared backstage, and Diane, me and my wife talked in the house. I have no idea what we talked about. I know it was light, and friendly, and silly, as we laughed often. All the while, Diane was holding my hand. Then she would pat my hand, but she never let go. Just held on to me, not letting me go.

    I thought I would see her again. Either through her daughter, or being that I go home to Texas just about every year, out at the theatre her and her husband ran. But, it wasn’t to be. Diane was staying to help her daughter load out, and I bet the wife and I had plans for dinner or something. I gave her a big hug, told her it was great to see her, and that I would see her again soon.

  • The First Time I Met Diane (Unedited)

    (This is a follow up on my post from yesterday, which dealt with the passing of my dear friend and mentor, Diane Simons.)

    I want to say that this all happened over the Summer of 1996. I was nineteen years old, and a professional slacker, as that was the term then. I was in between universities, and when I wasn’t smoking cigarettes and thinking about how great I am having accomplished nothing, I spent all my time hanging out with my old high school friends in our home town.

    One night, two of my friends thought it would be a good idea for us to go way the hell out, to the sticks of west Fort Worth, and see a play in the woods. I’m pretty sure this is how the idea was sold to me. The reason to see this play was that one of my friends had promised their theatre teacher at the community college they were attending that they would go see this play, which was “Lysistrata.”

    When I say it was way the hell out there, I mean we must have drove for over an hour, and the took the wrong exit off of 820. And this was so far away from the city that there were no street lights, nor any other people on the road. It was just darkness and trees. My friends had written down directions, but they didn’t make sense. Only when we tried the next exit off the highway, did we finally see the hand painted sign for Hip Pocket Theatre.

    There was a long drive way that lead to the parking lot in the back of the property, but along that drive you had to pass the outdoor theatre, and we could see that the play had started and we were late. We debated whether we should attempt to go in, as we were late, and concluded that we would at least try.

    Crossing the lawn to the weathered gray wood shanty of a box-office, a woman popped out of that building and waved us over. She looked like an old hippie; salt and pepper hair in a bun on the top of her head, large glasses, and lots of colorful flowing clothes. “Show’s started, but I can get you in,” she said to us.

    We forked over our money, and she lead us to a steep staircase that was next to the sound and lighting booth. “Climb that and there will be seats in the last row,” she told us. Cresting the top of the stairs, we fully took in this theatre whose stage was encircled by branches of oak trees creating a natural amphitheater. It all had a rustic natural feel, and was one of the most unique and original spaces I have ever been in.

    And the show was great. Bawdy, hilarious, offensive, sincere, playful, and sweet.

  • Wrapping Up the Year

    This has been a busier week than I had anticipated. The kid is finishing up her school week, and the wife is wrapping up her final week at work as well. Then people got sick which throws life sideways. Not that I am complaining, as this is a great time of year, and I do enjoy the fun, and stress that comes along with the week leading up to Christmas, and New Year’s.

    Oh, and I volunteered for a puppet thing around Lincoln Center. (If I gets some pictures, I’ll post them.)

    But being that my family and I are about to start cleaning, and wrapping gifts, baking treats, going to movies, and spending time together, I thought it best to start reflecting over what this blog has been for the past year.

    First of all, for the more than four of you who now stop by daily – thank you for taking the time. This year I earned the most views and visitors that I have ever had, and that also means that every year I have written this blog, views, visitors, and subscribers has grown. So, again, thanks everyone.

    I have started to think that I need to redesign the blog, and maybe even start to change it’s focus. Though I enjoy writing about random things, like I was a blogger from 1999, the truth of the matter is that my reviews of short stories is the true driver to this site. I have no intention of stopping doing either type of post, but it seems that I should make it easier for people to find the reviews I write. I’m not the best at designing a good functional website, but I think it might be time to spend some actual time on working this out.

    On the fiction/publishing front – I did fall short of my goal. In 2023, I got one story accepted and published, so for 2024 I had aimed for getting two stories accepted/published. What I accomplished was one acceptance. Going over my submissions numbers, I saw that I sent out to half as many publications in 2024 as I did in 2023. Not sure how this happened, as I thought was keeping pace with the previous year, but something fell through the cracks. What was most apparent to me was that I am still “playing” at publishing, and not taking it “seriously.” If you want to accomplish anything, you have to put in the time and the work, and I didn’t. I am still proud of what I accomplished with my writing this year, but if I want to earn enough money to buy a new MacBook Air, then I need to work a little harder.

    Did I mention my Merch Store? I’m going to make that “1999” thing a thing.

    As for the next two weeks, I’m going to put up my normal fun Holiday stuff, and then I’ll put up the “Best of 2024.”

    Other than that, again, thanks for taking the time to read this. I hope you had a good year, and are looking forward to the Holidays and 2025!

  • A Visit to Mount Tom

    One of the things I miss doing in New York, is wandering around the City. Just walking the streets, seeing what I can find, and discovering things. When I first moved here, and I was temping in different parts of Manhattan, I would use my lunch breaks to walk up and down the streets, hoping that something unexpected would be around the corner, or I would find a shop that I never knew I needed.

    This past Sunday, I was afforded an hour up around Riverside Park, and I knew where I wanted to go; to visit Mount Tom.

    See, the legend is that Edgar Allan Poe used to come out and sit on the top of this giant rock, and look out on the Hudson River. This was back in 1844, when he and his wife were renting a room at a farm that was located around 84th and Broadway today. I had read about here, some time ago.

    Rather moody and bleak out this past Sunday. Not the weather that Poe would have gone out in to sit on Mount Tom, but still fun to be in a place where Poe once sat, and thought, and possible even worked.