actress and performing artist

actress and performing artist


June 4, 2018
That woman in the street, that old faded art star, weathered no make-up face and blond wig, conspiracy theories and a clear piercing gaze, tells me when she wants to be street smart in the language of all cultures she smokes with her right hand, when she wants to reject that wisdom, she smokes with her left. She tells me, “ You’re street smart too I think, you’re like a corner window, like you’re about to sing a song, like maybe you’re about to sing in the shower.”

May 18, 2018
We're all just cherry blossoms in the springtime
We're all the compound eyes of a fly
We're all just here and someday 
Someday we'll all die
--Ellipsa MG

September 15, 2017
Don’t forget the eggshells my darling said the old witch, the old rope mother. Don’t forget those hot pink shoes, that crunch, the way they move.
For you may go off into your other roles, but in the end what do you have, the eggshells in your freezer, the lemon peels, the true scraps.
What do you have, the ocean for free.
You know there are stories of how someone used to leave a key under the boardwalk, how another grandmother used to to come and use the lockers, how she once wore a white bikini, how she met your grandfather.
What do you have but this pigeon walking by.
The sun on your ass.
Though the cold will come, you cannot let it trap you, reserve a warm pocket for that shimmering mirage.
And that flip of whether the work is the real thing or the drifting is the real thing.
The difference you saw in that deer woman of saying I don’t know with conviction.

March 19, 2017
It’s true it has snowed again unseasonably late in the year but the lovebirds have returned, cooing on the fire escape and the cats have come back at night, wailing, fucking four stories below in the junk near the train tracks. To be a language whore, she doesn’t have to travel from her bedroom. They are doing construction on the apartment next door, and when the workers accidently break the pipes, they have to punch a hole through her wall and come in to fix it from her apartment. The worker from Uzbekastan shows her his country on the map on her wall. The route by which they transport natural gas to Europe, the pipelines, the lifeblood of the country. She learns how to say a few things in Uzbeki, when she comes home for a day or two someone says hi through the hole under her sink. Repairing the pipelines. He says she owes him a kiss. She says it’s not my fault they messed up and had to break a hole through the wall. And then her toilet breaks, so she learns something about Montenegro. And then on a follow up visit the man from Montenegro brings his brother who is a naval officer so he can practice his German. Looking at the wall on her map they discuss the coastlines. Today the toilet has begun to leak, so who knows what new places she will travel.

 December 3, 2016

still life of sister in clouds

December 26, 2016
Falling into a jetlagged sleep the thoughts whirling through her head, nations, politics, how even language itself is so violent, beating a dead horse, that is so sad, and on the other hand bird mating rituals in the amazon jungle, so much fanfare for a moment of action, and then her sister sitting at work trying to concentrate while her German boss--wait the asperger’s one?--well they are both kind of aspergers-y--is wandering around the office, everyone trying to ignore him so they can finish their work, he is flailing around a newspaper, the U.S. election, how the young people, they all used to be on the LEFT, now this thing is happening with the RIGHT, and someone just sent him a picture of Angela MERKEL and she is NAKED and it says LET THEM ALL IN!

                                                    Birthday, August 28, 2016

All around the world we are falling apart and then coming together. You write to me that I am your little bird, that you will meet me in the woods or on some beach with no one around. You feel the aftershocks of the earthquake day after day. Yesterday when I said goodbye to my friend in the street, laundry turning in the dryer inside, a bee came over and stung me, the first bee sting ever in my whole long life. Not to mention flat tires, and peeing in the backyard because you can’t get into the house, and a litany of lyme disease and other possible downfalls. The swollen elbow and osteoporosis. The wanting to lift your grandchild but not being able because you are afraid your bones will break. Skin shedding, the old story. Life, death, these are such little things. Why are you the one I think of, the one who is distant. Being someone’s little bird made the whole day special, and all I saw were birds everywhere, dipping down and passing by, in flocks and singly. The vase of sunflowers on an abandoned bench in the woods, the swimming and swimming in that empty endless lake.

What I like to hear when I arrive at work:
"Oh, great you’re here. Are you ready to go into the crab tank? Oh, good you have the rubber nipple guards. Okay, remember, when you come out there’s the crying scene on top of the high wire platform. Remember you can be very subtle because there’s the live feed projection, it should be filmic. And then there’s the tango sequence back on the ground. When you do the reverse sequence upside down, you still want to stay with the emotional arc of the scene and allow for unexpected moments, but try to keep an awareness of what it looks like from above because of the mirror on the floor."

Selves and collaborators:
Anonymous Ensemble
Mabou Mines

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