When Theatre Stirs and Sparks...

Friends, run do not walk to see "As It Is In Heaven," a glorious exploration of faith, spirit and community at the Cherry Lane Studio Theatre through June 11. Written by Arlene Hutton and directed by Ludovica Villar-Hauser, with dramaturgy by Maxine Kern, this will be 90 minutes of sheer bliss. Can laundry be a meditation? Can women singing hymns rock your world? The answer is yes. Even the New York Times says so. 3Graces Theatre Co has a lot to celebrate.

One Day in Singapore

OK. Actually, I was here seven days but six of them involved working a global conference, mostly meeting rooms, elevators, and group meals from buffet lines. Ah, but yesterday I was liberated and had a bit of time to see the sights. Main observation: a clever mix of business, art and native peoples. Lovely place if you can take humidty and spontaneous sideways rain. (Only 85 miles north of the Equator so we shouldn't be surprised.)

Incredible structures abound. But nothing to rival the mind wrenching Sky Park. It appears that 7 of the worlds largest airplanes have been digested by Tim Burton and spit out, landing on top of three hotel buildings each 57 stories high.

History too. Had drinks at The Raffles Hotel, watched friends hammer Singapore Slings while I stuck with V&T. Ceiling had fans flowing in unison. Guess the cost of labor made automating a necessity.

And Chinatown. We're convinced we were in the spot that Top Chef did its finale last year. Food stalls, farmer's market with large green melons and fish from a Jules Verne nightmare. Overcome by the chanting in the nearby Buddhist Temple. Sounded like my yoga class on steroids.

This whole adventure was scaffolded in luxury. Singapore Air (like the commercials, only better -and if you still love an airline after an 18 hour flight, that says something) and the loveliest Ritz Carlton in the universe, staffed with people like Isaac a server in the breakfast buffet. Hundreds of people there every day and somehow he noticed that I liked a certain whole grain toast and presented it to me while I waited for the egg to sizzle. A bit of magic, a surprise, a civilized intelligence just like this great destination.

After You See...After the Revolution

...maybe you'll remember just how great a theatre experience can be. Amy Herzog has hit it out of the park with this smart, fast and important work. Carolyn Cantor, director, has brought it to life in the intimate Peter Jay Sharp Theater. Don't miss After the Revolution at Playwrights Horizons through November 28th.

Emily with the Green Thumb

What inspires an artist you ask? Well, if you're Emily Dickinson, you're living so close to nature, you can't help but notice the connection between flowers and people, between the seasons of the earth and the cycles of life. At the New York Botanical Garden, you can take a deep dive into what Emily's borders and vegetable gardens might have looked like. This exquisite show is crammed with flowers and words, plants and even trees that marked her day to day life in Amherst. Don't miss Emily Dickinson's Garden - The Poetry of Flowers.  Here's a preview from NPR.
P.S. - Take advantage of the Poetry Walk Audio Stops. My friend, Marta McDowell (world class gardener and Dickinson garden expert - she wrote the book, literally) can be found on the other end of your phone line, sharing an insight about the glories of digging in the dirt.

Do Not Be Afraid to Interrupt

These words, from former Secretary of State Madeline Albright, were delivered to her students when coaching them that in business and in life, sometimes silence was not an option.  If you are lucky enough to see the exhibit or get your hands on the book, Read My Pins, you will be inspired by her intelligence and force of will. Imagine if you could wear a pin to signify your starting point in a negotiation with your recalcitrant child, clueless boss or somewhat imperfect significant other. 
What would you choose - butterfly, dragon, a turtle?  Would it  be a spider for one of those "rare days when I feel devious" or - one of my personal favorites - a Stetson hat signifying a bad hair day?
What spirit needs to be conjured up for a successful negotiation? Let's take a lesson from Madeline and please, don't be afraid to interrupt if the conversation is going nowhwere.

The Hand That Maketh The Snowman

It's been awhile, in case you haven't noticed. (Oh, I could dazzle you with a million reasons why including my very strong resistance to being even remotely methodical, something you kind of need to be if you're going to call yourself a blogger. So, ok, let's agree - I'm not a blogger.)

As the year ends, I was seeking a soundbyte of wisdom I might pass on gleaned from 365 days of real life involving clients, kids, my so-called writing life, my small bits at trying to make a difference somehow, and my unrealized gameplan to eat mostly plants, like Michael Pollan told us to, and reject anything with preservatives in it. Confession: I have slept peacefully on more than one night knowing I had 481 unopened e-mails napping on a server somewhere. So where was this wisdom going to come from?

And then a week or so back I came upon this funky snowchick in Central Park and I felt myself snickering at the universe. And the snicker led to something like a prayer: May we all follow the impulse to create in the new year. Whether our work is tromped on, overlooked or melts in the heat of day, the hand that maketh the snowman is true. (And not the least of it - after the snowman is done with, there's hot chocolate.)

Calamari, Raisin Bran and a Red Washer

I'm on the other side of the largest downsizing since W left the White House and moved into a traditional suburban home, sort of like the one we just moved out of.

When you move, everything seizes up: bodily functions including the ability to process food, ideas and enough neural connectivity to remember where you put the box that said "Important - Do Not Let Out of Sight." All of the basic wattage of your biochemistry becomes unavailable when, it could certainly be argued, you need your juices the most.

I'm alive. I keep reminding myself.

One night, we were too tired to go out or dial for takeout. We made a dinner out of old calamari the realtor dropped off on our first night here (thank you, Judy - it really was very tasty way back when...) and finished it off with heaping bowls of raisin bran. It was more substantial than you think. But there are rewards for people who haul up their anchor and heave ho into the world. It's called a brand new front loading red washer and dryer. Here's a picture of mine.

Photo credit: Alan S. with his very clever new camera