A Winner.

"You know what you are? A winner. Because you take criticism so well."

- Professor Edward Tayler

Columbia University Shakespeare Professor to me, a college undergraduate after class one day.

http://www.college.columbia.edu/cct_archive/may04/cover.php

Tonight's blog is dedicated to my beloved Professor Edward Tayler -- who taught me to stretch myself -- to work hard, to DREAM BIG. To be tenacious. To learn to love literature -- especially Shakespeare.


Reading this made me looooong for Columbia.


Love to all of you little blades and to your beloved college professors, to all of our golden memories, to the days gone by and the shimmering days ahead...


Let us stretch ourselves, take criticism well -- that we may groooow and rise above our current states. Be stars -- the brightest stars in the darkest blackest coolest evening sky.


Tomorrow is a step closer to the unhatching of our dreams.


Let's crack it open together.


Even if admittedly we don't know where it's coming from or how even or when -- we know with utter certainty that we are on the verge of MAJOR BREAKTHROUGH. Our success is unstoppable. It is a sweet inevitability. It is on its way, heading towards, about to burst forth. All we need to do is prepare ourselves as best as we can for its much anticipated arrival.


Which means learning and listening and always always always taking a lesson out of everything. Always taking criticism so well.


p.s. Professor Edward Tayler said this to me because I'd memorized the whole speech in one of the plays -- Titus Andronicus? For him. For me. To show him what I could do. This was a great departure from high school me.


This was revelatory. And as an actor and a writer, what he said to me that day at school -- it has stayed with me ever since -- lodged in my heart.


And I continue to grooooow. By taking criticism as well as I can -- without taking it personally. And life is immeasurably better when we get out of our way/our egos and do not take things personally. Rather when we allow criticism to strengthen our spirits and our resolve.


Good stuff.


Welp, my friends, I am flying off to NYC tomorrow for 6 days. So - I send you all...


Love... Always.

The turning of the Soul.

"That's what education in its deepest sense is - the turning of the soul."

- Cornel West

This is the last page of SNIFF!!!

And... Bruce Springsteen is my hometown. Whenever I listen to his music, it just sounds like the truth. He turns my soul.

Night, night all my little blades near and far...

p.s. I interviewed Cornel West for The Columbia Spectator when I was an undergrad. Super charismatic.

Another dream of mine... To see Bruce in concert. (My neighbor and dear friend Julie just told me she saw him in concert!) 

And... to be the Bruce Springsteen of my generation of actors and writers.

p.p.s. I did not do my 5 things today. I took a break. Tomorrow I shall.

And if I haven't said it in a bit, I am grateful for all of you... For reading and appreciating me. Here's to all of us!!! All of our golden year. All of our dreams coming blazingly true.

Love... Always.

Bruce Springsteen - No Surrender Acoustic in Toronto

This song is exactly how I feel today. Exactly. Enjoy.

Tonight's Prayer.

"As you think, so shall you become."

-Bruce Lee

Tonight's entry, my little blades, is a simple prayer. That the Universe may hear what I think -- hear my prayer. Hear that I am ready for love. Hear that I am ready to be a movie star. Hear that I am ready to be a best-selling author. Hear that I am ready to be a millionaire.

Tonight's blog is a prayer. That the people in Russia may know we are all praying for them and for their loved ones.

That we may all be safe and sound. That all of our collective prayers may be heard and tended to. And that we may sleep like babes in swaddling clothes.

Tonight... I pray that my thoughts become reality. A sparkling new reality for the new year. Pesach.

Tonight I pray that my trip to NYC brings bright bright prosperity and that I land a great role from my meetings.

Tonight I pray that Los Angeles turns around and brings me all of my dreams. Wrapped in dollar bills, many, many, many dollar bills. That I may share share share them with all of my loved ones. With you. All.

Tonight I pray that Gatsby's stomach may clear up and that I find the perfect food for him.

I pray for peace, love, and the perfect lover, best friend and love of my life.

I pray for all of my lists and all of my fans, for all of my efforts to sink into the atmosphere and bring me back that skyscraper that Jenny Miller, my former next door neighbor was talking about at jury duty.

I pray for my skyscraper of movies and HBO and my books and my new house and my new life.

I pray for my prayers to stretch across the universe and hug up the world for just a moment of peace, that the whole world may sigh...

Tonight I pray that I may become my thoughts. For in my thoughts I am already all of these golden things. Breaking records. Changing opinions. Making history. My time in the sun. My magazine cover. My -- giving back. Holding the babies around the world, loving up the world with my art. Reaching out of my lovely apartment and into my fire-placed home on the east side.

Tonight I pray that I shall become my golden thoughts.

I pray the same for all of you, my little, lovely blades.

This is your lullabye too.. We all have our dreams tucked into our hearts, nestled amongst our fears. And whatever your dream may be, wish for it as you read tonight's blog, and may your every wish come true. Know that I am behind you too. Wishing for every little dream inside of you all to come blazingly true.

Love.. Always.

I Have It Part 1

The play that launched it all --

SNL
HBO
MY MOVIE THIS FALL

The Temple of My Familiar.

"The most common way people give up their power is by thinking they don't have any." 

-Alice Walker.

Tonight I went home. Meaning -- I went to the theater. Two of my friends and fellow theater company members were in a play together called Influence at the Skylight Theatre next to Figaro Cafe on Vermont in Los Feliz. What a lovely area. 

Oh my gosh -- I adored the show -- snap and crackling. Intelligent, thoughtfully directed and exciting to watch.

I was proud of my friends and fellow theater company member, Dep Kirkland and Bob Ciccini. I felt absolutely thrilled to put on a dress and boots and meet another friend at the theater -- Ron Dobson, a great playwright whose play we have put on in Little Bird -- and watch great theater.

Honestly, it felt like a homecoming. 

And lately I've been thinking a lot about theater -- about how I am SO stoked to do Broadway again, how I am meeting with two of our greatest playwrights when I fly home to NYC, Michael Weller & John Patrick Shanley. About how I will be going to see the inimitable Austin Pendleton -- my former Broadway co-star in The Diary of Anne Frank in his play next Saturday in NYC. It opens Friday night.

I am contemplating calling Kate Boca, casting director at the Roundabout, to let her know I will be in town -- just in case she has anything up her theatrical sleeve. 

When Alec and I had a career talk on the phone around this time last year -- he told me to come  to NYC and do theater. And voila! I will be there Wednesday night. SO stoked!

And the theater is where my movie started. The theater is where I started -- on Broadway. 

The theater is where Lulu and I came alive and recognized our seemingly limitless powers -- producing Little Bird Theater Company's MIX TAPE One Act Theater Festivals together.

Where we brought in original musicians, and sold our friends' paintings and photographs, we cast the actors, we chose the directors, and we sought out every play. I always called it a bake sale for the arts.

The theater empowered us. It brought me SNL and HBO and NYC and Alec and Ashton and my movie and soooo much more... It brought my last co-star Sammy Daly and the lovely Omar Wilkes, whom I directed in Billie Jean in the Graveyard. And this play gave me an opportunity to share my love for Michael Jackson with as many people as possible. I got to express how much I absolutely adored him.

It gave me the chance -- -- the golden chance to expose the beautiful music of my dear friend Lucy Walsh -- every one of her songs opened up all of the plays I ever did with Little Bird, once Lu and I co-produced together. And I got to showcase my other super close friend -- the one whom I was missing last night -- Jessicva Miller's voice -- her lovely, haunting Save Me played before the second play I ever wrote called, Fingernail Moon. I directed Dasha and Michael in it -- Dash played me at 17. And then, for the benefit show and a few other shows, Sully played the role of Ted. And now that I think about -- this play was indeed the coming attraction to my getting my memoir out for the world to see. Because this play was so unabashedly my story. I lifted it directly from experiences I had with our handsome, preppy, stoner-ish friend, Ted. And even my best friends were weeping when they saw it. 

They were like -- we never knew this is how you felt in high school. 

Theater, our words, empowering. Very empowering.

And when Alice Walker say that the most common way we give up our power is by thinking we don't have any -- I learned this in the theater.

I learned that celebrated playwrights and super busy connected indie producers and big casting directors -- Cloverfield and musicians -- Glacier Hiking -- and directors -- CSI and One Tree Hill not to mention award-winning LA theater directors were amongst the credits -- and lots of actors, super talented actors -- Edi Gathegi from Twilight. And Ashton and Demi and Alec B and Nelsan Ellis -- in the audiene among grandmothers and moms and cousins -- Michael Ritchie -- the Artistic Director of the Mark Taper Forum -- it's like the Field of Dreams...

If you build it, they will come.

And we did. And Lord knows, they did.

Utterly inspiring. And a huge reminder that we create our own success. We create our own dreams and will them into reality, a gold reality. We gather together what we dreamt of in our wildest, most glittery dreams.

I always wanted to create my own theater -- my own group -- my own story. And Lu and I did this together. And now, we have gone our own ways -- and though I will miss her, working with her, I am super excited to get together my Little Oaks next month to brainstorm our new company.

New beginnings -- while also remembering, tending to, our own beloved roots.

Our own power. 

So -- when I wonder about this manager calling or that agent being interested, I MUST remind myself of my power. They will be knocking down my door. And I will choose the best team for me. And I will have deserved it. This. Success. These creme de la agent creme choices.

Because I am building it yet again and yes... they are coming.

And so, my little blades, I send you all LOVE... always.

Today's 5:

1. Emailed my pic and res to director who wants to audition me (for theater of course!) in the next week.

2. Blog

3. Seeing the play -- and meeting the playwright and the director.

4. Deciding to have my first Little Oak meeting next month.

5. Emailing another NYC friend -- super cool casting director that I will be in town next week. We shall see if he can cook something up for me -- through his casting friends. Also -- great guys - it would be fun to have a drink with him.

Okay... I am going to leave you all again with the play that sort of launched all of this for me. I Have It. Some of you have seen it -- but to some of you it may be new. 

I LOVE this character -- in fact, talk about powerful -- the movie I got SO close to last week -- Ashton thought of me because of the character in this play -- on the bench! Her name is Lady.

Hope you all enjoy!

Love, Love, Love... always...

The Bright Spot.

"Growth as an actor and as a human being are synonymous." 

- Stella Adler.

Tonight I found myself driving in my beetle over -- back over -- to the east side. I took Gatsby for yet another walk around the Silverlake reservoir. We'd taken a super quick jaunt there this morning. And I just knew that I wanted to to take him back for a real walk. 

It was about 8pm when we made it there. And the lights were sparkling onto the water, the homes in the hills were blinking their cozy weekend lights down onto the town and Gatsby and I walked along -- in deep thought. At least I was.

And I was thinking about how I have grown. I was without radio and phone. I was quiet -- except for inside -- inside I was listening to myself. And I wasn't noisy or stressful -- merely listening. To where I have come and to where I have yet to go.

I thought of my book deal and the fact that I even have my memoir out to agents and at least one editor has read an excerpt and found it "beautiful."

I thought of how I am a voice on a cartoon -- something I kind of dreamt of when I was little. I was a huge Scooby Doo fan.

I thought of how close I got to that movie -- playing the 3rd lead!!!I was super supported on my way into that audition -- both leads wanted me, my other friend Randy Spendlove is the Head of Music at Paramount -- and he emailed me and said, "Let me know if I can help you in any way!" Matt Delpiano -- Alec's agent at CAA -- got me the audition -- only after Ashton spoke to Ivan Reitman about me. Told him I was "perfect for the part." Then, he told me -- "This is your character on the bench. You are perfect for this."  The feedback from Casting -- Joanna Colbert and Rich Mento -- was fantastic! 

I thought about Alec offering to call a manager I expressed interest in. And he did!!!

I thought about all of these things. 

I needed to remember where how I have grown. How far I have come. Because sometimes you can feel like you've been in the same place forever.

We all need tangibles, proof that we are growing. Like a thicker wallet. Our names on a billboard. Our book in the store. The ring on our hand. Sleeping for the first night in our house. 

We need to feel it.

And so, tonight -- I turned off all the noise. And I quietly reminded myself of how far I have come. I swear, sometimes when I do that -- talk lovingly to myself, parent myself -- I swear it is my mom talking to me, through me. When I am my most loving. My most grounded. My most me. My best me.

I, of course, also thought of where I want to be -- a thicker wallet, the movie booked, the boyfriend walking alongside me -- and of what I miss. Certain friends who've dropped away. My ex-best guy friend. I missed him tonight.

I thought of my dear Jes who's living in Australia and of how I miss her. And of how back in the day, I would've been hanging out with her on a friday night. Fo sho.

I thought of my former producing partner Lu and of how I miss her. And was sending her love.

I thought of my ex-boyfriend who lives above the reservoir and of how he truly introduced me to Silverlake. Of how he swears by the East Side. I thought of his former roommate -- now a successful comedian, constantly traveling, how he's grown since I knew him well. I missed the ex-boyfriend even -- not for wanting him back -- but for the sweetness we once had. Wrapped up in a blanket overlooking the reservoir, sharing a smoke, looking out at the water, quiet music.

And then, I felt kind of happy. I felt grateful. I have loved and been loved by all of these people.

And now I am ready again. My slate is clean. I am ready for a great man. And a great movie. And my great book. Ready to share, share, share.

Ready.

Honestly, this is -- now -- the first time in years that I am not craving anyone, yearning for anyone, missing what was and wondering if it ever will be again.

Nope.

I am tabula rasa kierena.

Feels good.

And so... on that note, I drove myself to The Bright Spot in Echo Park -- a mere minutes away from the reservoir. And I sat down at the counter and I took out my journal and sent some messages from my phone -- to two of the loved ones I miss.

And I met a super nice new friend, Peter -- who's in The Navy. And I met Margaret, the 1,000 year old waitress. Also super nice. Her whole family it turns out, she told us, over her hunched back and her kind, kind smile, was in The Navy. A great uncle, I think it was, died on a ship in an attack.

I had an amaaazing veggie BLT. Every single fry I devoured. I slurped down my whole iced tea. I even bought a yummy homemade chocolate chip cookie to go!

And Peter, my new friend, and I walked around town a bit and then I drove him to his car. And when I drove off in mine, I thought -- That was a perfect night.

Indeed. 

Not yet do I own my house in Silverlake, not yet have I met my husband, not yet have I booked my movie.

Not just yet. Soooo close. Could be minutes, days, months, weeks, hours... Like a sneeze -- it is coming!!! In fact, I am already here. Inside of me, I am all of these things, have all of these things. It just needs some time to manifest itself on the outside. What is already on the inside.

And alas... I am growing. 

Two people whom I emailed with my updates -- two totally unrelated people -- both emailed me, "Keep going!"

Last night at dinner, my friend Casper said to me, "This is your year. And it's starting from the inside." And I leaned my head on her shoulder and looked up and her and smiled.

I knew. She knew. Jade knew too. She sat on the other side of me. 

And so, my little blades... Let us all ggggggrrrrrooooowwwww.

I am eternally grateful for all of the artists in my life -- for even all of you who do not fashion yourselves artists, alas -- you too feel life. If you are reading my blog, you have the soul of an artist. Truly.

"Life beats down and crushes the soul and art reminds you that you have one." 

- Stella Adler.

Thank you acting, thank you writing. Thank you art. Thank you my little blades. You are the canvas on which I am painting my life this year.

Sending sooo much love... always.

p.s. 1. wrote CAA asking for agent referral

2. wrote a.k. for agent referral

3. wrote ab for tea in NYC next week.

4. wrote manager to follow up on meeting her when I am back from NYC.

5. wrote 2 playwrights and Austin Pendleton -- amaaazing actor -- that I wil be in NYC and would love to meet up. 

6. Wrote Bekah to see if we can meet up in NYC to further discuss script.

7. Wrote theater producer that I am sending him script to see if he's introduced in producing this play.

8. asked for friend for commercial agent referral.

9. made appt. with my teacher Shalom to discuss career growth and ideas to expand.

10. gave my info to a friend/playwright on his referral to a director friend for a play he's directing in may. he asked my friend who the best actress was and he said me!!!

11. emailed DIRECTOR told him I am off to NYC. Excited to see him in June.

p.p.s. I did ten things because yesterday, I'm not sure I did one! Zoiks!

p.p.p.s. (last one -- promise. this is like the Swingers equivalent of blogging!) I am considering re-writing two letters to directors tomorrow and one to an actor -- they didn't respond last time -- but perhaps they will this time.

good stuff. very good.

Springsteen - Thunder Road

this is the song of how i felt as i walked along the reservoir...

My beloved Oridnary People.

"I hung on. I stayed with the boat."

-- Tim Hutton in Ordinary People.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lpQT7Ded66U

Tonight I leave all of my little blades with a clip from one of my favourite movies of all time -- and this is the sugariest, juciest, most delicious, beautiful, redemptive, heartbreaking scene of the whole movie...

I remember thinking that if I were to ever have/star in one movie -- this would be  my choice. I would be the girl version of Tim Hutton's role. He breathes this character. He IS Conrad and all the he feels.

This, to me, is the most perfect movie I can think of.

Robert Redford's directing debut is spotless -- with just the exquisite combination of humor and sadness and anger and every day life.

The music by Marvin Hamlisch is sooo moving. And I believe this was the first time that music was used repetitively in a movie -- meaning the same song again and again as the only score in the movie. Exceptionally effective.

The set designs -- the table meant for 4, but set for 3.

The writing is clean and touching and with no extra fat. It is like poetry.

The acting -- utterly stunning. I mean -- calling it "acting" is almost rude. I adore Donald Sutherland in this movie -- he is perhaps the most heartbreaking of all.

Tim Hutton is SO real and young and adorable and tortured and living it.

And Mary Tyler Moore is perfection. What a break-out role for her.

Judd Hirsch was sooo clearly the example Good Will Hunting used for their therapy scenes. He's the epitome of the therapist any kid would want. Or adult for that matter. I love that he smokes during the session -- so 70's! And seeing as this movies was released in 1980 -- it was on the very heels of the 70's.

And for such a young, sensitive, and imaginative director as Robert Redford was -- wow.

I literally watch this movie at least once a year -- to remind myself of a quality production and the great, great possibility of film, of movies that are driven by relationships, of directing that is sensitive and loving towards the actors -- Redford let his actors breathe and stretch and grow before his very eyes.

I remind myself of why I am in this business when I see this movie again. I remember the kind of actors I want to work with. I remind myself of the kind of director I am going to work with. I remember the power of great writing -- its simple, heartbreaking, intelligent quality. I remember the very first scenes I ever worked on in acting class. The juicy speeches, the feelings deeper than I almost felt safe to go, the jumping off a cliff feeling, the "jump and the net will appear" feeling, the sense of losing yourself in a role, the why I am SO READY to break-out and show the world what I have inside.

This movie, this Ordinary People reminds me of how I felt when my mom died, of the prep school I attended, of feeling depressed, of wanting to be happy, to push it all away, to watch my father struggle with raising the rest of me.

I remember a super young me on Broadway.

I see a young woman now who is ready for the world.

I post this scene because it reminds me that I am ready for my "close-up." For my break-out role. For my big, juicy -- only I can play it -- part.

I post this scene on my blog and in my heart to remind myself every day of what is coming for me. The big sneeze inside of myself that is bursting to see the light of day.

My Ocsar, my Tim Hutton moment, my Robert Redford director, my scandalously, beautifully, heartbreaking screenplay, my living the role, my deep and funny and petrified and exuberant and honest and scared and once in a lifetime role.

I. Am. Ready.

And this movie reminds me of what I am ready for.

I hope you all take a moment to enjoy it. It's a little over 7 minutes long -- and it will honestly remind you all of the golden potential in storytelling on film. I SO dig the 70's American Movies -- our golden era. And this movie is a perfect example of what I loved -- gritty,funny, honest, intelligent, lovely.

So... have an extraordinary Friday my little blades. I owe 3 extra blogs for having missed 3 -- so expect 3 bonuses from me this weekend!!!

Let us all remember why we are living certain dreams, why we live in certain cities, what we are really up for in our lives, what we are willing to sacrifice, the size of our dreams, and what we demand of ourselves and of our art.

Let's create a new golden era of American cinema.

I have my movie coming this fall -- and I promise to break hearts. Tell a beautiful story. And make you laugh.

Let's all hang on... Let's all stay with the boat.

Love... Always.

Ordinary People

Turn that Period Into A Comma.

"I was born ready."

-- My response to Kim Miscia, the casting director who asked if I was ready for my final call-back for "The Diary of Anne Frank" on Broadway.

It's a short one tonight my little blades as I find myself exhausted... But -- while I was sitting down to write tonight, I thought about all of the feedback I am getting in my life these days:

"Keep going, Kieren!" "What can we do with all of your great energy?" "Thank you for giving it your best shot!" "This is your year, I can tell!" "You are SO close!!!"

And I think about my last great audition -- and as I sat with my new dear friend and neighbor, Kristen, tonight, on the castle steps, she said those last words to me -- and then, she repeated, "I can feel it. I know it."

Then, I thought back to my first big break. Broadway. And I remembered how I'd gotten one Broadway audition before the one I booked. It was for a Neil Simon play -- and I didn't feel too well, I'd had a date the night before and when William Morris called me with the audition, I was too excited to say can I go in the day after tomorrow? And so -- when I went in to read, the feedback was that I was "too green." Which though I admittedly was a kid -- I was not green at all. I was kind of sick. And thus, off. Off -- yes. Green -- no.

So, I pulled myself up after that and saw a posting for the role of Margot Frank in Backstage while I was babysitting a few nights later. I called William Morris -- specifically the office of David Kalodner -- the agent who was "hip-pocketing" me most fervently. And I left a message, asking if they could get me in on the audition.

They did. 

And they got me back in and it went on for a few months, actually. And I became entrenched in this play. I worked and worked and worked with my friend and acting classmate who was as tireless as I. We'd meet in Carnegie Hall at noon on a Thursday, 6:12pm on a Saturday, 8am on a Sunday, 4:20-4:50pm on a Monday -- basically, we met whenever it was remotely possible. And we "repeated" -- our great late teacher Freddy Kareman's rif on the Meisner Technique. And we integrated the script -- my lines. And I studied the play and Margot -- me. 

And so, I began soundtracking my studying. I'd play my Dad's lilting piano music on my walkman. Bright yellow Sony walkman. I'd go over the lines in my head, I'd spent so much time on them that all Freddy could say about my upcoming final call-back to Dep was, "If she takes her time, she'll be just fine."

Two months after my first audition, Kim Miscia walked back towards the bathroom, where I sat on the floor, with my headphones on, my "Margot Frank" Gap beigey-pink plain-ish audition dress, an my eyes lit up to the heavens -- as the emotions stirring within me were strong, deep.

And she sort of knelt down to me and asked kindly, "Are you ready, Kieren?"

To which I replied, "I was born ready."

And the truth is, I was. I was born ready. This is what I was meant to do.

And that moment encapsulated a feeling, a gut feeling, I'd had since I was little. A knowing.

I booked the gig. Not only did I book the role of Margot -- but they offered me the understudy roles of Margot, Miep Gies and Anne herself!!!

I was blessed. Dipped in the holy waters. Baptized as a great actress. An ingenue in her Broadway debut.

And one of the lessons I took away from that experience was to "turn a period into a comma." The first audition -- it wasn't the end -- merely the beginning. I took it and I ran. I saw beyond it and I just knew, I was certain that something even greater lay waiting for me very very shortly.

And it was. 

"The Diary of Anne Frank" lasted eight and a half months on Broadway. The Neil Simon play I first auditioned for closed after a month and a half. I actually got to see it -- ti was dismal.

And so... I remind myself as I remind all of you.

These are not periods -- these seemingly closed door experiences. They are commas -- or rather it is up to us to see them as such. Because of course, how we see things is indeed how they are.

That Neil Simon play was not at all a period. It was a comma. 

And my HUGE audition last week was but a comma. Maybe this one will come back to me -- they'll decide I am the perfect age and look for it.

And if they do not -- big mistake, HUGE!!! (a la Pretty Woman) -- then I shall see it as merely a comma. Leading to an even grander second half. 

Kind of like my Browdway. I could not have asked for a more beautiful beginning as an actress.

And now -- dear blades, I am READY for MY SECOND ACT. 

Love... Always...