I haven’t been able to get this song out of my head. The wife had it on a playlist that I listened to this weekend, which was cool. It reminded me that I saw Beck live on the Midnite Vultures tour.
Category: Art
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My Least Favorite Part
One of the goals that I set for myself this year was to submit my work to more magazines. I sent out a bunch in 2023, and sort of fell off the wagon in 2024, and that is why I am hitting the ground running in 2025. Well, at least relative to my situation. My goal was to send out to ten different magazines this month, and today, I accomplished it. Not an enormous step, but a step none the less.
And as I was reading issues and guidelines from new magazines and journals, I started to feel like I did when I was acting, and going out on auditions – which was nervous, a little anxious, and also a touch of faked confidence. I mean I got work, but like all actors, I struck out more often than not. I accepted that it was part of the business, but I never learned to enjoy it. I have friends who love to audition – get in the room, try stuff out, see what works. They like the challenge of it all.
For me, auditioning was the necessary evil that I had to go through to get what I wanted, and that was rehearsal. I loved every part of rehearsal. The table read, getting there early, making new friends in the cast and crew, learning how each other works, the discovery of the process, the bad days, and the good days, and that feeling of at any moment it could all go off the rails but somehow always magically came together. Not always, but most of the time. Performance was extra, the icing on the cake. Rehearsal was the fun of work. And I really do miss that.
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Discovering Stelvio Cipriani’s Music
I will admit that it bothers me, on a serious existential level, that the YouTube algorithm knows me so well. The other night it sideswiped me with a song, “Mary’s Theme,” which is from a 1969 Italian erotic thriller, “The Laughing Woman.” (I will say this, you are on your own when it comes to watching this movie. The description is problematic, to say the least.) I wasn’t searching for music, nor was I doing some deep dive into world cinema. Nope, this just showed.
I was rather taken with the piece, and had to find out more about the composer Stelvio Cipriani. Oddly, I feel like there are a few similarities between Cipriani and Vince Guaraldi’s music. Over all, Cipriani’s music is sweeping, and romantic and so very Italian Cinema that it makes my nerdy cinephile heart swell with excitement and spurs my imagination on.
If one get’s the chance, check out Stelvio Cipriani music. It’s quite entertaining.
And for no other reason, here’s a really cool picture of Vince Guaraldi from 1967…
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Thoughts on 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.)
As this week has gone on, and I have reflected on the time that I spent with Diane, I am filled with overwhelming gratitude. For a very important five years of my life, I was guided by and witnessed the creativity, kindness, compassion, optimism and love that Diane filled her life with.
Working for her out at Hip Pocket Theatre has defined what I view and expect when it comes to leadership in the arts. She was selfless in that regard – the theatre was the thing, and not her. She supported all of the artists that came through the doors, and never wavered in her optimism in that place. No matter what the challenge was, and we faced some pretty serious one, she had faith that we would all make it though the other side. Having spent so many hours with her, I saw her get angry enough times, but she never let that dissuade her from optimism. That and she cleaned the bathrooms before every show, which is still my yardstick when it comes to people I work for in the arts; would they clean the bathrooms in their own theatre? The answer for 90% of them is no. Diane was committed to doing whatever was needed to be done to make the show happen.
She also taught me what it means to be an artist. How important it is to get out every idea, and see what sticks. To never limit yourself, or say that something can’t be done. She taught me to collect ideas and influences, and the importance of have a notebook, or a sketchpad near you at all times. That art is giving and sharing and encouraging creativity not only in yourself but in others. That fostering creativity begets more creativity and what you put out you will get in return. That being an artist is fun, but it’s also hard work that can be a lot of fun. I can hear her in my head, “Hell Matt, just give it a shot.”
But what I find myself coming back to often this week was Diane and her family. Her husband and her two daughters. Oh, how she loved them. If you mentioned any of them in her presence, she would just light up. She was so proud of the women that her daughters became, and how unique and individualistic they were. She so loved being their mother, and was excited about what they did, and loved being a part of their lives. But her husband. “That man,” she’d say, and you could tell and feel how much she loved that man. She would get all giggly and flirty when he was around. Theirs’s was an epic partnership; they co-founded Hip Pocket Theatre, but they also taught theatre to thousands, and created a family of artists. They forged a community out of their love.
And I am just heartbroken for them. They loved her so.
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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.”
