Where've I Been?

I can’t believe I haven’t made a post in almost a month. Quite the busy month and much yet to do in the remaining week. Moved from the condo I’d been in for almost seven years to Pete Rush’s apt. (which I have to be out of in 3 days in order to clean it up before he gets back from out of town on Saturday), had a minor bout of Meningitis which was largely camouflaged by the beginnings of withdrawal from Effexor (it was surprising how quickly that began) and while currently still unemployed and overdrawn at the Bank, I did manage to actually speak with and consequently email all my materials to June Lowry-Johnson, the Casting Director for “True Blood.” Using the Assistant Editor’s name (who I had an introduction to and a very slight e-conversation with on Facebook) got me past the receptionist. I hadn’t planned it that way but I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Now I have to make sure I follow up and mail out hard copies with a thank-you note.
This coming Sunday evening, the 26th, is the premier of “Dichotomy” at the Harvard Exit. My role is relatively minor but at least it’s not a villain and it’s well-shot so a chunk of it is on my Demo Reel. I’m looking forward to it but would have preferred having seen it in private first. Oh well. The next morning is my departure. Still haven’t spoken with anyone down in L.A. so I don’t know where I’m going to be staying when I get there but I know it will all work out.

Oberon, King of Shadows By Dennis Kleinsmith

In the deepest darkness of a moonless night or an old, silent, forest, perhaps even an abandoned street or alley, that primitive part of our brain that knows things that science can’t explain, awakes. It perceives…something…presences, from which it tells us we shouldn’t just run but run screaming. Have you ever wondered about those…things? Wondered about, as truly frightening as whatever they might be are, what frightens them? Let me introduce myself….

Learning to Let Go Or Drama; How I Loves Ya, How I Loves Ya part II

Some performers drink or take drugs to take the edge off of the stress. I don’t need to go into the drawbacks of these methods. Fortunately for me, for reasons I’ll perhaps go into another time, I can’t drink or do drugs-and actually have come to like it that way. As ‘Mars’ Marzac says in Richard Greenberg’s ‘Take Me Out’; “The great advantage of an extremely narrow life is the slightest deviation produces staggering results.” An undeniable benefit of this method though, in addition to it being a social activity that turns you into a good ‘ol boy, is that it speeds the whole ordeal up and leaves it in perspective. Nothing puts problems in their place and turns one’s awareness to the grind of daily life like a hangover.

While many people turn to established religions in times of difficulty, the events of the past year have found me learning to turn to myself and the entity some call the universe (which can be argued is just another face or form of god-but that is yet another story…damn, there’s a lot of those ‘other’ stories, aren’t there?). The process is to ask for what you want, believing sincerely that you deserve it and that it indeed is on it’s way to you, let it go and be thankful. The majority of us who were raised Christian were taught, in regards to problems, to “give it to god and let it go” but that was quickly followed by the reminder that whatever we received was out of god’s goodness and that we were not truly deserving.

Anyone who has ever tried to break a habit, be it smoking, overeating, whatever, knows how hard it is to change a pattern but to change a thought pattern is the hardest of all. It’s not just rewriting a program, it’s changing the base code of the computer that is our brain! Go on, give it a quick try; there’s bound to be something out there that everyone who reads this believes they deserve, so tell yourself you want it, you deserve it and it is now on it’s way and you are so very grateful for it. Wait. Wait a little more. Don’t be in such a freakin hurry. Okay, how long did it take for that sarcastic, bitchy little voice in the back of your mind to say “yeah, right”? If we don’t believe in something, we won’t be looking for it and will therefore wind up passing right on by it when it does turn up.

I have let go of feeling foolish at simply and straightforwardly asking for what I want. I have allowed my belief that I deserve good things to come out of the closet. God and y’all know how grateful I am for all good things in my life (and even some of the not-so-good). Here’s where I still have work to do; believing those good things I want, need and deserve are out there and coming to me. I still do my work towards achieving and obtaining them but at the first glimpse of an apparent obstacle those damned doubts malingering in the shadowy corners and attics of my mind leap out and start crowing “see! see! we told you so! we told you so!” Learning to erase those thoughts or not hear them or simply marching on despite them is hard. Opening up, asking for what I want, believing in myself and my worth has also shattered that protective armour of indifference I had built up, that shell of apathy that was my coping mechanism. So now I have to learn to let go, really, truly let go. Ah well.

Learning to Let Go or Drama; How I Loves Ya, How I Loves Ya

Okay, I admit it. I’m a drama queen. But let’s face it, what Actor isn’t? It goes with the territory. The only difference is which particular drama you choose to play out can either win you admiration, sympathy or outright abuse-and each one can get different results for different actors. Now it’s your turn. Think about it, don’t you have a touch of drama in your life that keeps you challenged and you’d miss if it was completely resolved? Of course you do or else life would be boring as all get out. Sure, sometimes there’s an over abundance and it feels nice to get away from it but in those cases, what’s the first thing we do? Pick up a book or watch a movie that has drama in it!

Part of what I’m doing with my life right now though is changing that-not getting rid of it, just changing what follows it. I can’t figure out exactly where or when I learned to view life in black or white terms; “if I don’t get this role my life is worthless – or – if I get dumped again that’s it, I’m never having another relationship” but every so often I tend to believe all my eggs are in one basket. What I’m trying to learn is that, even if all the eggs are in one basket and that basket should fall and break, I can pick up the pieces and re-weave the basket and go find another chicken. There will always be more eggs and other baskets.

Now, every performer has their own way of dealing with the stress that comes between an audition and the verdict. And of course, many (if not most) directors/producers/theaters never notify the ones who don’t get the job, we just have to wait till the production dates have come and gone and figure it out for ourselves. The problem with that is that the longer you have to wait, and the bigger the role/show/paycheck, the stress is that much more intense. When I was younger I developed the habit of not telling anyone about any auditions I had. That way, not only was I not reminded of it as much by people asking ‘how’d it go?’ but I could walk away feeling like there was less on the line; I wouldn’t have to face other peoples’ disappointment if I didn’t get it. (yeah, yeah, I know; dysfunctional childhood, blah, blah, blah)

(to be continued)

Where's the 'Delete' Button on this Thing?

I believed with all my heart. Honestly, truly, sincerely believed. These golden opportunities, they came out of nowhere. I worked my ass off-getting my support stuff together; reel online, memorized entire scripts virtually overnight, brushed up on my Russian.... I faced my fears and came out of my shell and cared. I even showed other people how much I cared by telling them and asking for them to care as well-something I haven't done in many, many years-and made myself vulnerable. All this belief, all this support, it gave me hope. What was I supposed to learn here except how to make a fool of myself? And what am I suppose to do with these? these shards and pieces of what my heart used to be?

Someone told me once that we are all stars in our own little ongoing stories. Some stories are comedies, some are romances and some, well, some are tragedies. I think I want a rewrite.

Breaking My Silence

A lot of people think I tend to live life on a 'grand' scale in the sense of melodrama and heightened emotion. Those who know the intimate details of my past and present life though, would attest that I could go a lot higher and still be presenting myself honestly and perhaps even modestly. Nonetheless, for a while now, I have lived in fear of being perceived as a 'drama queen' so I just don't talk about things. Since I've asked people for their emotional and spiritual assistance over the past week though, I feel obligated to explain.

Like most people, over the past few years I've just been 'scraping by' financially. Occasionally having to do the old trick of paying a bill with an unsigned check to give myself enough time to come up with money before the company got back to me. Then, last Fall, a series of financial tragedies began that pretty much sent me "down the Rabbit hole" with no way back. Of course, it was a domino effect; no money-no car, no car-no job, no job-deeper into debt and, as of 7/1/09, homeless.

By the way, if you're in Seattle, I'm selling; a four-poster, Queen sized (no jokes please) 'Paul Bunyan' bed, four natural-finish oak folding bookshelves (2 3-shelves, 2 4-shelves), a roll-top chestnut stained oak 'Secretary' desk & chair. Hope to have pics & listings online here & Craigslist by this evening.

Now, I don't really fear homelessness. Enough people have very generously volunteered to let me 'couch surf' in their homes till I land on my feet that I wouldn't burn out my welcome at any one place-and even if I wound up living out of my car (some, if not most, folks have roommates that prevent them from inviting me with my dog into their homes) I know I could stop by and use a friend's shower here and there. It's a fairly depressing prospect but I would survive it. However, this past Monday I got to audition for a fairly large supporting role in the next John Carpenter film. The rate of pay would not only stave off homelessness, it would actually give me a month or so of breathing room. I was called back on Tuesday. I felt like I 'nailed' it but I haven't heard anything from my agent and they start filming July 27th. There's still time and I have to believe and beg everyone out there to believe and pray that I get it. Then, on Wednesday, I was told I had an audition down in Portland the next day for the TNT cable channel drama 'Leverage' with Timothy Hutton. Again, a large supporting (though only one episode) role. I went to the audition, got called back later in the day and again, feel like I nailed it. Not to be derivative or show my age but I want these gigs, I NEED these gigs, God I have to GET these gigs.

Yes, there are 'day jobs' out there but the truth is, I don't have a lot of 'day job' skills. I had been working at one for the past two years but, when I was without my car (thanks to yet another tragedy) from mid-May till yesterday, the company simply had no choice but to replace me. And as for taking non-skilled labor positions, they tend not to hire 47-year-olds with college degrees because they tend not to do well under the authority of teens and early twenty-somethings with acne.

Getting these gigs would be both life-changing and life-saving.

So that's it for now, I'll let you know as soon as I hear something else. Thank you all, so very, very much for your kind thoughts and prayers, they are really appreciated.

Animated Suspension

So what was supposed to be over by last night is turning into a week long ordeal.

Twelve years ago my Great Aunt Claire (who I frequently refer to as my Grandmother-but that's another story) whom I had been the guardian and conservator for and was her primary caregiver for ten years, had a series of Trans Ischemic Attacks or, TIAs (basically mini-strokes) over a period of weeks and wound up bedridden in a semi-vegetative state. Her body was still functioning but her brain had basically shut down. The doctors said that, even with mechanical assistance such as feeding tubes, oxygen, etc., the best that could be hoped for would be another year but she would never be cognitive again. She was 89 years old. It was up to me to decide if she lived or died. Obviously, I asked a lot of people's opinions. Every single person I asked, Medical Professionals, a Lutheran Pastor, family members and friends, all said to let her go would be the kindest, most charitable thing I could do. So on Friday afternoon I said not to place the tubes and the Doctor assured me she wouldn't make it through the weekend. Well, in her entire life Claire never did anything as she was supposed to (yet another story or rather, stories) and she lived ten more days. I was a BASKET CASE! Wracked with self doubt; had I made the wrong decision? could I have taken better care of her? was it too late to change the order? By the last day I was so torn up that I was nauseous, had diarrhea and hadn't slept in days. All over a situation in which I had done all I could and no longer had any control.

Okay, my current situation is only life-or-death for me, not another human being so it's a little different.

Tomorrow it's down to Portland, today it's errands and script study. And a whole lotta deep breathing.

"Sometimes I Feel as Like I'm Almost Gone"

When I was little I saw an episode of 'I Love Lucy' where Ricky had told Lucy some secret about an opportunity but that she shouldn't tell anyone because; "you'll jinx it if you blab". That phrase stuck in my head and has become my own little superstition along with, if you ask whether or not a decision has been made, it will be against you. I just realized that those are in keeping with something my Godmother told me; "never eavesdrop or snoop because you'll only hear or learn things that will make you unhappy". Huh. When I look back in my memory, except for specific life-altering tragedies, I tend to only (or at least first) remember the good, happy and best times but I'm having a hard time recalling being given any encouraging advice. Anyway, there are what could be life-altering decisions being made about me right now where I've pretty much had all the input I can and need to let go. That's a lot easier than it sounds. Doing so makes me feel like I'm fading away. I guess I'm not doing it right. It wouldn't be the first time.

One of Those Days....

So I went to the premier of "The Whole Truth" at SIFF last night and was going to have to pay $11 for a rush ticket (my role was very small) but Rik Deskin who, with Cara Anderson-Ahrens gave me such a wonderful experience playing Claudius/Hamlet's Ghost to Rik's Hamlet last year, had a 2-person Sponsor pass and his wife hadn't been able to make it so he took me in with him. The Director, Colleen Patrick, and the Stars; Elizabeth Rohm, Sean Patrick Flannery, Rick Overton and John Fugelsang were all there and at least Colleen and Rick nodded hello to me. They had a pre-screening party to which I was not invited but had to crash because the hair person, Lacey, had given me two vouchers to buy a ticket for her and myself as a thank you for standing in line and buying hers while she was at the party but after she left they announced that it was cash only and I didn't have enough cash for two tickets so had to give her back her vouchers. Everyone smiled at me but it was awkward.

Anyway, Rik and I were the first ones into the theater and being a local SAG representative, Rik knew lots of people who stopped to talk as they came in and that helped keep my mind occupied till the film started. It was funny, could have been better in regards to editing and timing but Colleen made some really interesting directing choices and I think Elizabeth could have a real future in screwball comedy. Do they even make those any more? Besides this one I mean.

It was kind of hard to stay objectively focused on the film since I was tense about my scene-three days of filming, ripping my scalp open-I wanted it to be worth it all. It wasn't. I sucked. No, really. I sucked so bad you could feel it creating a vacuum in the theater. I can't believe they didn't just edit me out entirely.

Now mind you, I had already had quite the day. The State Farm representative for the girl I rear-ended in March called and left a message saying they heard from my insurance company that I wasn't covered at the time and that they'll be expecting full reimbursement for both the property and personal injury claims (she just went to her Doctor the next week to get checked out but wasn't actually hurt). I actually laughed when I heard the message, I mean, can you say "blood from a stone"? I'm going to write them a letter explaining the situation and see how they respond.
Then I checked my bank balance online and discovered my debt negotiation payment that I had stopped for this month (it's on automatic deduction unless I stop it) was deducted anyway leaving me-including the overdraft fee-over $300 overdrawn. So I called the company and they looked it up and admitted that it was their fault and would be refunding it but I would have to fax them something from the bank showing the overdraft charge so I could get that back. Okay....
Then I looked at my calendar and realized that I had missed my therapy appointment this week and, while minor compared to the other things, it was just the bit too much, you know? The proverbial straw that broke this camel's back? So, wanting to get through the rest of the day and see the film, I took a Lorazepam (anti-anxiety sedative) and washed it down with a shot of my raisin liqueur...side note; a while back an actress had told me that her vocal coach recommended eating a couple of gin-soaked raisins prior to warm-ups and/or performances so I loosely filled a jam jar with raisins and filled it with Bombay Sapphire, let it soak for a few weeks, drained the excess liquid off and voila! raisin liqueur!...didn't feel any better as the time to leave approached so I took a second Lorazepam and washed it down with another shot. While this truly mellowed me out and relieved the anxiety, I never seem to remember until afterwards that alcohol-especially combined with sedatives-cause me to have a serious depressive reaction.
I was so upset and sad as I walked back from the movie that I was nauseous by the time I got home. When I did, I didn't even put together the wet spot where Annachie had been lying on my bed with the wet spot from earlier in the day. But I did put them all together when I saw another one this morning. He's not actually urinating but he is leaking. Instantly I thought of my dog Sluggo many years ago who had bladder cancer-except he had never been neutered and Annachie has-but it doesn't matter because whether it's last stage cancer or the most minor of urinary tract irritations, I have no way of getting treatment for him. I still owe over $3,000.00 on his surgery from last year.

While we standing in the rush ticket line, Natasha Sims (a truly fan-fucking-tastic actress that I was in "Ordinary Angels" with) and I were discussing books and after I had described a series to her she told me that I was a good story teller. That was nice....

Blindsided

Okay, so I discovered a Dutch Musical Theater Actress by the name of Simone Kleinsma on YouTube singing "As if We Never Said Goodbye" from Sunset Boulevard. The clip was from the 2008 Dutch Musical Awards. As I was watching it for the umpteenth time in less than 24 hours it occurs to me how much she reminds me of my Stepmother Marianne who, to me, is the epitome of the elegant, sexy, sensible, powerful European woman (she's Czechoslovakian from the area that is now the Czech Republic). Following quickly was the thought that I really admire her and what she represents despite the fact that she does tend to be somewhat reserved emotionally unless it's something she's truly passionate about in which case, look out. And suddenly it hit me; I've been working so hard at not becoming my father, I didn't realize I was turning into my Stepmother. Which isn't a bad thing (see my description of her) except that she tends to have really bad taste in men. Okay, so I have to work on that one.

Dennis & Annachie Are Going on an Adventure!

My landlord has wanted to sell the unit I’m in for a while now. When he initially brought it up he made it clear that he wanted to sell it to me first and foremost but since I was in no position to buy it and we couldn’t find a way to make it work, he was content to keep me on as a renter. Well, I am now four, count ‘em four (4!) months behind on my rent so he’s bringing a realtor over to look at the place this coming Saturday. It looks like I’m going to be working at least sixteen hours a day between now and then to get this place cleaned up and ready. Then I need to figure out how to raise the $3,200.00 necessary to ransom my car from the shop so my dog Annachie and I won’t be on foot. I’ve been looking online at apartments in L.A. and actually found one that’s less than where I am now but I’m not sure anyone will rent to me with my credit rating. I may end up having to have a room mate or two-and that’s only if someone will let me rent a room from them. Weird.

To complicate things, I have to be down at Seattle Center before 5 this afternoon to do a new headshot session which I’m going to have to pay for with a check that I’m going to ask the photographer to hold till I get the money to cover it into the bank. It makes me feel bad to ask someone to do that-and he will because he’s a nice guy-but I just can’t afford the overdraft charges (if the bank would even honor the check which I’m not so sure about).

I've been thinking about starting a page or two on Facebook; a fan page for Dennis Kleinsmith, Actor and/or a page named "Dear Alan Ball, Please cast Dennis Kleinsmith!" and I would basically ask all my "friends" to sign up and ask their "friends" as well and promise them that if I succeed, they would always have a place to stay in L.A. and whatever assistance I could render. Before I do though, I’m trying to get some friends’ opinions on the idea as I’m worried it may be a little over the top. As hard as it is to believe, I do have a tendency to do that.

Just Had to Remember This.....

"We're going another way with the character you read for. We've cast Nell Carter who, although dead, is someone we believe will bring more to the role than you."

With thanks to Stephen Rader who I wish was my neighbour.

I Want to Fly....

Deep in the center of my chest there is a place, an organ or muscle that seems to be constantly clenched. In dreams, when I consciously let that go, the lightness that replaces it lifts me and by willing or "pushing" that lightness, I can control the direction and speed of my motion. Sometimes I test myself by seeing how high and fast I can go before I start to get frightened but as soon as I allow myself to feel fear or any kind of tension, I start to fall. As I descend, I lift my head, close my eyes and let go again, slowing myself until I gently touch ground.

I want to feel that lightness all the time, even when I'm awake. I want to live "unclenched." I want to fly.

A Boy's Own Stories

For a while now, I have wanted to write. Unlike most aspiring writers though, it's not because I believe I have the next "Great American Novel" but rather, for many years now, people in my life (including an Executive in the Publishing Business) have told me that tales of my life and the way I tell them are fascinating. Having been an actor and voracious reader for a certain number of years now, I have to acknowledge that I have developed fairly decent language skills. Unfortunately, I lack the necessary discipline to sit and write eight hours a day and when I do succeed in getting a fair amount down, I edit, rewrite and pick it apart to the point that I can't stand it anymore. Who knows? after all, I already have four books outlined. Basically they're serial novelizations of my life. Young childhood, teens and twenties, then final adulthood. The fourth book would be backstory; the lives of the surrounding characters prior to the beginning of the first book. I actually have pretty cool titles for them too but I want to get a copywright going before I list those publicly. Another reason I haven't pursued it is that I'm afraid it's really only a form of therapy-but I've come to the realization that it can be both cathartic and interesting reading. We'll see.

A Little Fall of Rain....

So the brothers said no, if I wanted to get any money from any potential future inheritance I would have to ask my father directly. Since I'm not feeling all that strong yet-especially just now but more about that later-I'm sending a card to my Stepmother. Meanwhile, the clock is ticking and I still don't have the money for my car....
Yesterday I chose to announce my plan to move down to L.A. to my boss & coworker. Now these people are also supposedly friends of mine-my coworker was very happy and excited for me; my boss was very quiet. Mind you, he was one of the people who have been telling me a couple times a year for the past several years that I needed to be down there and that he was sure that I would end up down there eventually, etc., etc. Later in the day, when we were alone, he slowly found fault & flaw over and over till he hadn't just rained on my parade, he had set fire to it, fanned it to a blaze then pissed all over it till it was mud and ashes. By last evening I was in a panic; what was I going to do? how could I have been so stupid? the sky is falling! the sky is falling! It got to the point where I couldn't sort out valid points from his (not my) fear and anger and I just shut down. All my joy and excitement-and associated productivity-seemed to vanish. I couldn't get to sleep as easily as I had recently, had unquiet dreams-not quite the usual nightmares but enough to leave my mind troubled upon waking-and had trouble waking and getting out of bed.
Gradually however, throughout the morning, I've made some realizations; first and foremost, I don't care about a lot of the things he was talking about. They were/are aspects of Life and lifestyle that are important to him, not me. I am totally prepared and willing to live out of my car and/or couch surf in order to pursue my career and nothing else. Sure, I might miss some comforts I don't even realize I have once they're gone but right now those are his fears and concerns, not mine and I can't let them hold me back. Also, a lot of the suggestions and criticisms he's made over the time I've known him, while made entirely in the spirit of love and helpfulness, have carried enough weight in my mind as to make me feel like a failure and not qualified somehow-qualified for what, I don't even know-leaving me feeling endlessly depressed and out of place. Through absolutely no one's fault, this has been an emotionally abusive relationship. A pattern my father designed over forty years ago that only now can I look back and identify. Scary. Scary that the pattern was so deeply ingrained I didn't even know it was there and scary that now that I can break it, I don't have one to follow.

I Remember Mama....

Remembering my Mother (whom my brothers and I called "Mum") is a very bittersweet pastime. While life at that time was idyllic at times, or at least those are the memories that come to the forefront, it was never what I wanted it to be or what I saw in other people's homes. I can't help wishing, as I have ever since she died, that it had been my father who died and my Mum who had lived. Yes, yes, I know, we can't know what might have been but it certainly couldn't have been worse so at least it would have been different.
I don't know my nephews and nieces and it's been more than twenty years since I've seen my sister-in-law with her children so I have no idea what kind of mother she is or has been but, despite her fanatic religious bigotry (the reason why I don't know my nephews and nieces), I sincerely hope she was as good, fun and loving as was mine.

Passive/Agressive Begging

Is it awful to pray that a parent dies? Even if they were truly monstrous (honestly, by anyone's definition)? I have decided and commited to moving to Los Angeles in June but the past several months have been so bad financially that I need to come up with ten thousand dollars just to get my head above water much less move and be able to get a place. So I've started telling people all the sad events of my life and asking if they have any suggestions rather than asking for help directly. Sad, huh? I've just suggested to one of my two brothers that it could possibly be an option for them to lend me whatever I stand to inherit from our father and we could settle it when he does pass away. I don't know if they'll go for it but I had to try. Now, back out into the world.

Chronic Fatigue?

I'm not so much a hypochondriac as I just want something I can act on. If it didn't take two full pots of coffee and some non-amphetamine uppers just to keep myself awake for ten or twelve hours (and that's with a nap) I'd admit to being lazy but this is getting ridiculous. It reminds me of the comedian Larry Miller who once said "My father had three jobs and went to school at night. If I go to the cleaners and the bank in the same day I need a nap." The worst part of it is it actually feeds my fears and insecurities. When I have energy I just put stuff out there because I have the strength to withstand whatever criticism that might come along but when I'm this tired constantly the thought of someone finding flaw is devastating so I just don't take any risks by putting anything out there.

Another New Beginning

Okay, here we go again.

I'm down and out financially, gradually selling off my library and other belongings to try and catch up on my debt and let go of the belief that money=problems. Money is a wonderful thing and loves me dearly and I am now ready to have a tremendously positive relationship with it. Actually, I'm looking forward to having less "stuff"; the fewer things you have, the less there is to worry about and the less space you need to feel comfortable.

This is going to be so great.