The Dark of Winter

Things are born in the dark. Today was no exception.

What a glorious gathering we had today, in honor of the winter solstice. Thanks to all the people who braved the nasty, nasty winter weather (freezing rain!!) to sit in the 'white cloud' on 14th street and celebrate the creative spirit. The Darkness is a particularly rich theme for artists, and it was a fittingly 'deep' service...

My own experience of making the services now is this: one needs to do much less in the form of pushing one's will on the world, exerting influence and forcing things to go one's way...it is more important to find the work that is most important and to make it, and to refine it and to approach with consistency and care and authenticity. Then do it with regularity and intention. This is how the world comes to find you, how people see who you are and what your values are.

As I mentioned in the sermon today, solstice comes from the latin, sol meaning sun, and sistere, to sit still. Today I felt the power of 'sitting still' in my life here in New York, of showing up consistently. This is how the services have grown and how the Secret City has blossomed over the course of the year or so since it began...

Lately, my one word mantra has been, 'deepen', and this is what I'm experiencing in my life now--the great deepening of life. to stand still and face the world, to dig down into the world, into the planet, into the source and mystery of life...this is what I long for now...to deepen my connection to the world I am in, rather than looking for a new place to go, or a new thing to do, or a new way to be..

So, thank you all who took part today--we had an amazing amount of new people, and a great collection of dear stalwarts. It is exciting to watch this incredible piece of live, collaborative art unfold. And to be a part of it.

Darkness Visible

Was that the title of that book by Styron? On losing his mind? I think so. Great title. SO, the service is coming together--and it's a very exciting line up. No, that makes it sound like a night of stand up. WHICH IT IS NOT. But, the various parts and pieces are coming together in a very beautiful way. The real thrill of making The Secret City, is how the service comes together each month, and how it sends me into the world, and the people I meet and the collaborations that are blossoming as a result.

So, DARKNESS--lightlessness, blindness, winter, sensory deprivation, shadows, rebirth, depression, the night sky...all of these things are in the stew this month. Here's a roster of what's happening.

Steve Giovinco will share his photographs taken in the dark
Daniel Jones will sing Odetta for us
Kelly Stuart is making an audio piece of an interview with Albert Rizzi, who lost his sight three years ago.
Emma Griffin will present her family's fruitcake'
Betty Shamieh will read the poetry of Denise Levertov
The Secret City Singers will be back for more fun.
And, we'll see some sketches of the new robes being designed for them by NIkki Hughes.
Jeremy Bass will play the lute for us--English Renaissance music.
And Jeremy and I will perform a song in there somewhere.

AND, we'll have out usual juicy features--The Mingling Ritual, The Cultural Calendar, Meditation,
The Reciting of The Gratitudes. And, I'll read my latest art-sermon, this month's adventure
was a visit to a floatation tank. YIPPEE!!!

It's going to be a lovely service, the end of an incredible year. Please come if you can.

The Secret City
December 21st
1130 am
Theatrelab
137 W 14th St

Preparing for Darkness

For the theme of Darkness...the notion of fear or difficulty comes into play. But, I want to examine what is rich and valuable about the dark. I've been thinking a lot about Bellevue--mental hospitals in general...that was the most terrifying thing to me when I was a kid. Those movies about people being locked away--The Shuttered Room with Carol Lynley comes to mind...where she had been chained to the floor in the attic of a house and locked inside for years! And corridors of crazy people lurking in the shadows of ancient hospitals. And whenever the word Bellevue would be mentioned--it was terrifying. So when I was thinking about darkness, and the power of that word, I thought about depression, and of course mental illness. And Bellevue, which is at the end my street going east, btw...the old building with it's ivy covered columns out front...cold and scary. So, that is one major idea. But, for the sermon, and the excursion i usually take to prompt it, I didn't want to write about Bellevue specifically, oh I think it will go into the mix, for sure...but I was thinking about something else to do. So go somewhere dark, to go into the dark. to be in darkness. And so on Friday I have an appointment to float. In a sensory deprivation chamber. I'm thrilled.

Thursday I'll meet with Kelly about the film, and there will probably be some Bellevue footage in there. And other things. But for now I'm gearing up for a float.

WE ALL BENEFITED.

Monday morning post-benefit. Bobby and I are recuperating. We had a great, big, satisfying, packed, challenging, rewarding and beautiful weekend of our first benefit for The Secret City. Lots of new people came out, and wonderful old friends turned up, and a great batch of Secret City stalwarts grounded the event in community. Thank you to everyone who participated. Feels as if the mission is exploding now...with the article in American Theatre, and now the benefit...word is spreading and the secret isn't secret anymore, to quote Doris Day.

We made about a thousand dollars--the tallying is incomplete. But, COME ON! From four people on the floor last October to our first benefit this past weekend, and a beginning list of donors and supporters. And that means we have the beginnings of an operating budget for the services. YAY!! Refreshments may now be purchased and film may be bought, and we can even look at getting a projector of our own.

HELLO NEW YORK was great, so fun to get to do the songs again with Jeremy--he's the best.



(BTW-we're working on getting the cds for sale here on the blog, and a paypal account hooked up so people may make donations. The Secret City bank account is in the works, have to do a DBA...)

Oh, and having Emma Griffin at the helm, providing directorial support was just wonderful--what a GEM!!



We're talking about developing the show further, adding a bit more spectacle, a little structure...I'll keep you posted on that.

Now, there's a sort-of day off, although we do have to go to the 'white cloud' on 14th st and pick up all the stuff from the weekend and bring it back home. But I think there will be a nap later.

Then there will be follow-ups on the benefit--want to thank everyone personally who came out.

THEN- it's time to get the next service built, December 21st. DARKNESS is the theme, inspired by The Winter Solstice. We already have some cool things lined up. And i think the house will be nice and full.

THE SECRET CITY IS ALIVE!

COME TO THE SECRET CITY BENEFIT

This is a shorty by Kally, to promo our first benefit, a cabaret called HELLO NEW YORK with original songs by Jeremy and me. For the promo, Kelly cut together some footage from The Day of The Dead service (OCT), featuring Gabriella Barnstone in her dance as a corpse bride, and Joanna P. Adler reading her piece, Why I Come To The Church of The Secret City. You'll also see Jonathan Lester handing out a taste of mashed rutabega (sp?)...which was the food offering for the November service. It was delicious!! You'll spy a quick glimpse of the photo The Graces, by Joel Peeter Witkin, which was the featured piece of art for that same service, whose theme was GRATITUDE. OH, one more thing--at the end, you'll hear and see The Secret City Singers, who made their debut at the November Service... Our little mission is GROWING!!!

The benefit is this weekend, tonight in fact...and I have to go get ready.

AN OFFERING OF THANKS

This film, also made by Kelly Stuart, was inspired by Thanksgiving. I try to take an adventure for each service, something related to the theme, and then i write the sermon based on that journey.. So, In November, Bobby and I went up to Plymouth rock, and Kelly gave me her little video camera to shoot some stuff on location at the Mayflower 2 and Plymouth Rock...amazing. Then we came back to the city and wrangled the incredibly telegenic Katie Barrett into being our 'on screen presence'...we had a profound day downtown at the Musuem of the Native American...and more, as you'll see. Did someone say, cookies?

It's incredible how the films have impacted the services...they really bring in the outside world, and stir up and deepen all the ideas of the theme...

This film was screened at the service on November 23rd, and our theme was GRATITUDE, inspired by Thanksgiving Day

THE WHITE PEACOCK

Check out this short film by Kelly Stuart. Kelly is a playwright and filmmaker, we knew each other in LA years back and reconnected through The Secret City. She said she wanted to make a film for the service...I said yes. Duh. Then Kelly said she thought it might be fun to shoot some footage of me in the days prior to the service, getting things together. I told her that if she really wanted to see what's amazing about making each service, it's to go on the adventure beforehand...that's what we did. 

This was made for our service on October 26th, the theme was THE DAY OF THE DEAD. Amazing what you find when you go looking...

THE SECRET CITY IN AMERICAN THEATRE!!!

Long time no blog. I'm dreadful at this, but working on it.

VERY busy times for the Secret City...we have our first benefit this weekend.. Jeremy Bass and I will be performing a whole bunch of our New York songs to raise money for The Secret City The show is called HELLO NEW YORK, directed by Emma Griffin. And then, TODAY, American Theatre Magazine came out with the article on the Secret City!! You know when your expectations are actually surpassed? How that can bring you to your knees? Or to your senses? Or to tears? Well, one or all of those things happened for me today when I read the article...it was RIDICULOUSLY validating. And timely.

So, the benefit is coming along: we have a short film about The Secret City being edited right now...there will be cds for sale of New York songs...people are showing up to volunteer to take tickets and print programs, three lovely ladies have agreed to be hostesses, my boyfriend is going to tend bar...AND, I think some audience are going to show up, too.

Miracles abound.

Hands, Hands, Heaven

It was a Thursday in the city. The Thursday before Labor Day Weekend and summer was going out with a beautiful bang. Glorious. Sexy. Sunlight. I ducked into the mid-Manhattan library to try to find a book on body language. I got onto the elevator and the door closed. A man had followed me on to the elevator to make it a solid five men in the car. The man who entered last said, "Now this is the way to ride, all male elevator. Men only. No women." I said nothing, No one did. He was a Hasidic Jew, full drag. He continued, "The other day, there was a couple in here, in the middle of the car, embracing." He was glancing my way, I was closest to him. "It made me think of one of those moments in the movies, you know, there should have been a hole in the floor of the car, and whoosh..." He made a gesture of sucking, pulling, opening up the floor, and I took it to mean that he would have liked to have been able to make the couple disappear for their transgression. A few of the men got off, the doors closed. There were now three of us left. "You know," he went on, looking at me squarely now, "there is only one god. People may deny it, but the truth is, there is only one god." i spoke now, "Maybe for you, but maybe other people have a different god, or no god at all."

"No. There is only one god, my friend." he said. The doors opened. "Maybe other people think differently," I said. "There is one god." He was getting off now. "Peace," I said, "Love." And the doors closed on the peace signal I realized I was holding out toward him. My two fingers in the reverse V for victory...Ridiculous. Antiquated. Useless. But sweet.

The book I had come for was checked out. I got something else, a book about re-creating the self, based on the writings of William James, Henry's brother. William said, "Each human mind's appearance on this earth is conditioned on the integrity of the body with which it belongs, upon the treatment which that body gets from others and upon the...dispositions which use it as their tool, and lead t either towards longevity or destruction. Its own body, then, first of all, its friends next and finally its spiritual dispositions, MUST be the supremely interesting objects for each human mind."

I left the library and entered the flow of mid-town foot traffic. I came up the disembodied, blue-palmed gloves on the sidewalk. What a story there must be in there. Someone quit in the middle of the job. Someone threw them off in a fit of lunchtime revelry. Someone lost them on their way back to the construction site. Who knows. Being a creative type--I decided they symbolized the disconnection between my elevator companion and myself. And I was also reminded of the famous drawing of the hands by MC Escher, the ones that are drawing themselves as they are drawing each other. Something about that image seems to be about a mid-century desire to make sense of the material world, to connect it to itself, to connect it back to the spiritual world. I've always felt that Escher was reuniting the spiritual with the material, the mathematical with the divine, the rational with the metaphysical.

These two blue-palmed hands on the sidewalk just seem lost. No story to them even.

Entering Bryant Park at the back of the library, I remembered the beautiful bronze statue of Gertrude Stein. Those are her hands up above. She seems resigned. Her body language even suggests a bit of apathy.

I was thinking when I took this picture of the day last week when I started calling all sorts of motels in the Catskills to try to book a cheap room for the holiday weekend. I found one in Fleischmanns, New York, a place I've never been but am sure to enjoy when I get there. While on the phone with the hotel clerk he said, "I do have to tell you, there are a lot of Jews here right now, I hope you don't mind." I was caught off guard by this. "Um...as long as they're quiet," I said. "Oh yes, and there's only five or six rooms right now, so by next weekend, there will be maybe only three." He said this in lightly accented English, with the stamp of India on it.

It occurred to me that he meant Hasidic Jews. I recalled having read about the Catskills being a haven for many Hasidic Jews. And I thought, how does them know that I'm not a Jew? Why does he assume that I won't be offended by this comment. And why do I not tell him that I'm offended by the comment?

Gertrude Stein might say, Other, other, Other, Other, Other, Other, Other, Other. Other.

Later that day, I was on the upper westside. Early for an appointment, I decided to sit and have lunch on the steps of a synagogue. The light was perfect. The sandwich was good. I took some pictures. I looked up and noticed patterns and. A beautiful door. Craftsmanship. A house of worship. I read a bit of my new library book at lunchtime. Here's another quote from William James, "You must put together your own beliefs, guided by what works for you under these difficult circumstances. Don't rely on ideology...Within your limitations, for your own story. A useful one will alleviate at least some of your suffering."

Now, late at night at the end of a big, busy day in the city, after downloading my pictures, downloading my anecdote, downloading my matter into spirit, it occurs to me that what makes the day is the light. And what makes the hands is the matter. And what makes the temple is the sky.

Chiaroscuro

On any given day in New York, if the sun is out, as it is today, you will find moments and pictures of small revelation. Here, outside the Asser Levy rec center, is a stone column partially hit by the midday sun. Made me think of chiaroscuro--the technique of modeling an image in high contrast for dramatic purposes. Something about the moment hit me--it was a happy moment, but there was melancholy in it, and the column and the light/dark capture that. The feeling of having a joyful day, being alive and the sadness of the passing of time. Saudade, I think the Brazilians call it. Edward Hopper paintings have this in spades. Something about well-rendered images gives them that sadness, too. It strikes me that the near- perfection of anything evokes loss, somehow; temporality is most alive in the beautiful, the excellent.

Rooftop Installation

Sunday afternoon after the most recent service of The Secret City, I was up on a rooftop in far Queens. It was a great moment, the late afternoon, summer light, and the designs in the tar paper. You know those moments when you see the world as a work of art? It's similar to seeing waking life as the same as a dream state--you realize everything is perspective.

The Secret City celebrates that idea--that by looking at the world with the eyes of an artist (seeking beauty, meaning, intention, theme, structure, etc) we begin to see the world as a work of art. And, by extension, the world becomes a work of art--capable of being collaborated on by us, and others.

Funny, as we were hanging out on the rooftop, Bobby and Elik and I were talking about what an intense time it is right now, how it can seem that the world is being taken over by interests bigger than us, that there's an immense, uncontrollable movement of ownership and influence, and how that can feel scary. 

That's when we noticed the light, the designs in the tarpaper, the seemingly happenstance structure of the world, the art work of that afternoon. Beauty.

This is what is not easily vanquished or owned in the end--the power of the imagination, the ability to see, the choice to find the art in the everyday. And then to share it, to tell people about it. It's accessible. Available to everyone. A birthright. 

Something in that is related to freedom.

The Secret City Lives!

Monday night in New York City. The window is open and I can hear the city calming down. 

We had our most recent meeting of The Secret City yesterday and our congregation and mission continue to grow. The Secret City was formed by me in October of last year. Bored with the commercial theatre and tired of the marketplace; I decided to make manifest an idea I've had for many years: secular Art Church, Church for Artists. No religion, but the belief that art and creativity are inherently sacred. The name The Secret City has banged around in my head for years, from my years of making art and music and performance in LA...I love the idea that for many artists, we see the world with an eye toward the sacred EVERYDAY, and that this is it's own spiritual practice...to look for connections, to find synchronicity, to foster dialog between art, life, people, politics, nature, history and more. My experience is that artists do this as second nature, that their work and practice gives them a way of finding connections, and so I was interested in creating a place that formalized that belief. So, last year I rented a small space on 14th Street in New York City, and I began to hold monthly services. We met with three people sitting on the floor, and I shared my vision with them. They seemed excited by it. Since then, we've met monthly and our congregation and mission have grown and deepened. We have a monthly theme inspired by the calendar (Memorial Day=Memory, April 1st=The Fool's Journey) and the gathering is structured like a service...so there's live music, and a call and response, we have a taste of some food offering, a reading of a poem or something else related to the theme. We look at a piece of visual art together and discuss, I write an essay linking the ideas and various art works together. Then we meditate and listen to music. After each service there's a coffee hour...

Over the last ten months, I'm struck by how important it is to find the balance between the sincere and the light-touch. To create an experience that asks people to let down their guard, and also provide an event that is not heavy, or overly serious. Thought provoking but not preachy. Stimulating but not superficial.

The mission continues--people have started to find a place in their lives for this monthly gathering, and it seems to have had an affect. I know it has made my life more meaningful, and given me back some of the rich and beautiful experiences of making meaningful art together with other people. It has focused my thoughts and deepened my daily life. And, as I have asked to be led to deeper insights in my life and creativity, I have been answered with this incredible thing called The Secret City.

All are welcome.

We meet the last Sunday of the month in Manhattan. Email me for details. I will be starting branches in other cities sometime soon. 

For now, I will leave you with this, "we're connected."