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Every inch of the venue was filled with fiery competitors, spanning across many different age ranges. In the pit of the stage, the contestants competed, but in the end, Joshua Pena and Isis Granda ended up winning the cyphers. The winners will head to the National Finals in Orlando for workshops and panels on August 20th. Tune in live to see the national finals happening this weekend in Orlando below. The B-girls final will take place Saturday, August 21 and the B-boys finals will take place, Sunday August 22.
Explicit Fantasies, Filthy Commodities
Jack Skelley— Let me turn on my camera. There we go. Hello. It's wonderful to meet you.
What a beautiful bookshelf you got behind you.
Look how high up it goes all the way to the ceiling, and all the way to the floor.
Yeah, that's what I would like to have one day; the ultimate proof of achievement.
Of course you run out of room immediately, you know.
Do you have your own books back there?
Yeah, my whole set of them.
Oh, further achievements. How are you doing?
I'm very good. Thank you. Glad to meet you.
It's great to meet you too, thank you for reaching out.
I got happily surprised because my editor looped me in the thread and initially I was like; what is this email even talking about? Either this man is something really good or this is something really really bad. Let's just say my intuition was right. I went down a deep rabbit hole researching absolutely everything about you, your book, you new scene - are you ready to drag us out?
Does that mean that you have been able to read the book?
It does indeed. How would you talk about it to the unknown reader though, how would you describe the book yourself?
The novel was written in the mid 1980s. It was published in bits and pieces, but has never appeared in its complete form until now. I was unsuccessful in having the complete book released at the time, because you know, things don't happen sometimes. But then, last year, Semiotext(e) decided to publish it. And that was a huge thrill. I mean, when I got that news, I couldn't believe it.
Was it like laying around in their archive and all of a sudden Semiotext(e) reached out to you and were like, By the way, we would love to finally put this previous failure into print?
Kind of, yeah. They had known about it and owned copies of the original chapbook excerpts. Publishers Chris Kraus and Hedi El Kholti and I swim in the same literary and art circles. Through our mutual friends — Dennis Cooper and Sabrina Tarasoff the complete manuscript made its way to them and they said, “Ok, we'll do it.”
In some ways the novel is a departure for Semiotext(e), but in others it fits with their decades-long exploration of language, extreme sexuality and theory. That's basically the back story, which is perhaps part of the book’s draw. This forgotten novel has become a document of that time and place. This has lent itself to all sorts of ironies and reassessments, including the fact that there are big chunks of the book that even I hadn't read since first writing it!
It functions as a testimony of the past, yet at the same time it feels so fresh and so urgent; not only the multitude of messages read between the lines, but also your choice of medium: the way your character constantly, almost harmfully, shifts narrative is very contemporary. I belive it caters directly to just how much, or rather how little, attention our brain is capable of processing today.
That's a very interesting parallel: fractured consciousness and fractured narrative. The structure of the narrative, or perhaps the lack of it in the book, certainly reflects my mind and emotions at that time, including, you know, all those acid trips, sexual fantasies and being engulfed by media, culture and social scenes. Even larger cosmic themes of identity and reality distort the structure of the book. What’s funny is that I was in many ways unaware of their scope or significance at the time I was writing.
Probably a product of the life you were living, and constantly tried to push against?
Definitely. The Jack of the novel is forever testing himself against these forces within and outside of himself…
That’s how our attention span operates these days, even outside the acid trips and its dramatic comedowns. Everything happens in a matter of seconds. The scene right before you take a pee portrays this well, questioning the mere purpose of your own being, “... my inability to say anything. I have no personality and everything I could possibly formulate in my mind has been said ten jillion times before... Plus I have a headache. The piss is streaming out of me for what seems like hours.” Were these stylistic choices calculated or pure occurrences?
Even apart from the ego-dissolution of that scene, the book’s style reflects the influence of Kathy Acker. Although, I should probably mention here that the book is not about Kathy Acker. There is one passage where I quote her texts briefly, I mention her name once or twice, almost as if she’s lurking behind the scenes. However, Kathy Acker’s fractured narratives, her blatant “appropriation” of other writers’ texts, and her wild approaches to sex, politics, and identity made me feel free to experiment. Later on, she became very famous, but at the time I was writing, she was much more underground. Eventually people started labeling this style of narrative as auto fiction. But this remains a problematic term for a very diffuse genre.
But, yes, I was interested in her way of stealing from other texts, stealing from other identities and her kind of collage slash copy paste approach. I figured, “Fuck, if Kathy Acker can steal from whomever she likes, what’s to stop me stealing from her?”
You played her joke back on herself.
I did. And I guess it worked out. In the end.
The book is very personal and unfiltered, thus reading it feels similar to sneaking on people making love, or rather, having sex, or peeking into the pages of somebody’s diary. Yet every now and then you suddenly address the reader, asking if we are still there, or apologizing for writing so much crap just about girls; it reminds us that you are aware of us being there, in the room with you, or with your persona I shall say. Why did you decide to put a narrator between yourself and the story?
There are moments in the book where the narrator addresses the reader or even acknowledges that he's writing the book being read, as when his friends ask him, “Jack, can I be in Fear of Kathy Acker?”
I remember that part, “Only if you do something really interesting.” Such a smug answer.
Haha! Exactly, and the fact that you are able to fill me in right here goes straight to my intentions; The structure and details of the book are created — artificially conjured, even — in the act of writing it and reading it: the book also becomes while it’s being read. And what’s the distinction between fiction and reality anyways?
The book certainly comes off as demanding, while your persona is asking himself these existential questions, some deeper than others, it also commands the reader to question themselves, opening the door for various, personal interpretations. Speaking of such, what has the reception been like? I’m thinking about the sexual language in particular.
Thank you, I'm very glad you asked that question. In the months leading up to publication, I was in an extreme state of anxiety about how the book would be received, particularly about its many explicit sexual passages. I was worried that I might be attacked by whatever “cancel culture” is about these days. But all my anxiety was for nothing. It was just in my head, as usual. Haha. Instead, even before the book's official publication date, it sold out.
I read that. That's nuts.
It's nuts, right? My publisher was like, “What the hell, we have four launch events lined up. We don't have enough books!” That caused a slight panic. But, of course, that's a good type of panic; we figured it out. And the warm reception, especially from younger readers, has been a wild surprise. The situation makes a great story in itself. That's why I reached out to office, for you must be the younger generation, right?
Right. A generation which above all is described, and identified, as very “woke,” where explicit language, of women in particular, hasn’t necessarily been on screaming demand. However, the difference between your words and many other works is that your narrator addresses the impact of the larger culture which he so obsessively consumes.
100%. You really caught that. The Jack in the book is not simply a steaming sexual Id. I was trying to portray his entire reality. The narrator, reflecting on his feelings toward women, is aware that his sexual desires or provocations or kinks are somewhat manufactured by mass culture.
But to some extent those desires are also part of our animalistic nature, underneath their fabricated capital. How far can we blame consumerism for our failure and how much of it is our own flaws?
Wow. Yes! It seems that only a minority of people take authority for their actions and feelings, including sexual realms. It’s important that both writers and readers are aware of their own responsibilities, and try to understand who they are at essence as well as those “outside” forces that helped shape them.
It seems most people, when it comes to sex or politics, for example, don't question their influences, how they are being manipulated by media, language or culture. Perhaps you and I fit into the first mentioned, the “hipster world” if you like (although it’s an inadequate term), which is of the intellectual, provocative kind. Hence we’re accustomed to self-analyzing, becoming overly self-conscious, many mini self-doubting Hamlets — much like the narrator — seeking what’s hidden not only behind society but beyond himself.
“Jack” has a character arc even though the narrative is very unstructured. He is anxious and conflicted. He has terrible social anxiety, as when he is shrinking in the corner at a Hollywood punk party, for example. He also consumes mushrooms and LSD, and has a couple bad trips, which cause further ego-dissolution and boost his obsessions and depressions. Including some scary suicidal moments. But eventually he finds flashpoints where he seems to have gained insight. He's then able to flip his perception of these experiences and take control of them.
His own authority grows towards the end of the story, where the narrative gets very cosmic — but still comic — and he finally understands that his imagination is the key to "being", to entering a world of art. He forms a creative identity that is more comfortable for him.
However, he never manages to escape his existential prison to the full extent. He’s still doubting himself towards the end. The last section of the book is dominated by questions, and the answers shine in their absence. But I think he does achieve, as you previously suggested, somewhat of a separation between himself and his surroundings; a transcendent state of mind.
The very last question reads “You’re still there, right?” I like to believe that the question has been both echoed and answered by the collectives you participate in today. Would you like to tell us more about Beyond Baroque, and Car Crash Collective?
So there's so much to say about that, and I sent you that post that I put on Instagram last Saturday…
…it’s so relevant to our conversation. This book, as well as much of my ongoing literary, musical, artistic identity, originates from a formative period in the 80s Los Angeles art scene. I was working at Beyond Baroque, the literary/arts center in Venice California, where many creative writers, artists and musicians were also my friends. With Dennis Cooper somewhat as our “gang leader," we created an alternative art scene. Pretty much anybody was welcome, and pretty much all of us were unknown at the time, even though several of their names have since become familiar or famous. What excites me is that now, here in Los Angeles and many other places, the appetite for this kind of artistic community, particularly for writers, is stronger than ever. It’s still here, and I’m part of it!
Why do you believe these scenes to be of such importance? What do they respond to or rebel against?
Different scenes and different groups have different reasons for existing. I’m observing the newer, younger collectives in New York and Los Angeles. Take Uncensored New York for example, an art movement led by Samantha Sutcliffe. This group is dedicated to opposing the most destructive kinds of cancel culture. They come at this from an enlightened, perhaps leftist perspective, and their events and artistic products are challenging.
Other groups are formed to break down barriers, often in terms of sexual explorations, while others are born celebrating a pure love for literature. There is a scene for anything. And that’s a good reason to be part of one, and to mix with the others.
You followed up your letter by speaking the language of your narrator, addressing how “I appeared at Car Crash Collective last night in LA. Packed with more kids embracing me. What the fuck?” Let’s talk about Car Crash.
Car Crash Collective is led by two young women — Erin Satterthwaite and Brittany Menjivar — writers who produce monthly events at a bar in Los Angeles called Footsies, as well as more unusual venues. They came to one of the Fear of Kathy Acker launches in Los Angeles, read the book, and soon invited me to appear at their next event which took place last month. And I mean, they're already successful. Car Crash Collective doesn’t need Jack Skelley to take them anywhere or make their scene complete, obviously, but I felt such a creative embrace.
I'm gonna get a little emotional...
Feel very free to.
… They welcomed me, put me on top of the bill and they just… cheered for me, and for the “dirty” parts I read from the book. An incredible feeling. Members of these many alt-lit groups cheer for each other. They're very self-supporting, especially the young female writers who celebrate and explore each other's literature. It’s a shared, heartfelt success. It was a deep pleasure being part of such an honest, vibrant scene. It’s a constellation of scenes, really. It’s artistically and politically sophisticated. And it’s growing daily.
Well, there you have your answer — to Jack’s last question in the book: You’re still there, right?
Incredible. You're right. I think about young people today, and all the challenges they face in a social-media environment, for example, which creates this hyper-intensive pressure to define who you are in an artificial context. Not to mention all the existential catastrophes looming. Of course, my generation faced different pressures, but in a sense they all derive from a technologically administered and market-driven kind of oppression.
You’re even addressing that in the book, exhausted by the fact that “there's nothing left of me but was already dispersed into the electronic universe.” And you said that decades ago!
Haha. And it’s another example of not fully knowing what I was writing at the time. Perhaps I’m still not fully conscious of the larger meaning of it all.
Mr Skelley, neither am I...
Photographs follows order
Portrait of Jack Skelley, by Mike Jacomella
Jack Skelley 1985 photo by Sheree Rose. Jack skelley at gasoline alley
David Trinidad, Kim Rosenfield and Jack Skelley at Al's Bar. 8 Barney Party
Jack Skelley with Lili Lee (center) and Robin Carr. Kate Carson, Austin & Lily Lady, both at FOKA launch event, Poetic Research Bureau, July 26, 2023, photo by Damian Dovarganes
Jack Skelley performing with video art by Lydia Sviatoslavsky. MC Lily Lady, both at at FOKA launch event, photo by Damian Dovarganes
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Something You Said Last Night
Brigette Lundy Paine— Something You Said Last Night is such a lovely film, I’ve seen it many times now. Each time afterwards I feel untangled. It’s obviously deeply personal, and I'm curious, Luis, if when you began writing the script if you intended this film to leave us with such lightness or if that was something you discovered while writing?
Luis De Filippis— Older drafts of the script definitely feel more somber, every draft got progressively lighter and more playful. My preset is to lean into drama at the beginning of the writing process, when I’m feeling self-conscious or unsure. Then, as characters reveal themselves, I’m able to rely on them more and peel back the drama to find the underlying humor. I’m glad you feel the lightness, I think some audiences completely miss the humor, they see it as straight drama. It’s like they’ve been programmed to see trans people as intrinsically sad, so any story about us has to be taken very, very seriously.
Do you feel untangled, or unburdened, now having made it and shared this film with audiences?
Luis— I felt very untangled and unburdened from the work when we wrapped production, and then again once we completed post-production. We’ve been tangled up in release mode since September 2022 when the film premiered at TIFF, so it has been a year of promoting, but I’m starting to detach.
Carmen, the whole film plays on your face, you never really leave the frame. This isn’t a wholly linear narrative. Though Renata does make discoveries throughout the film, we are more catching up with her - seeing what she already knows to be true; these little cruelties and vulnerabilities in her family and those around her. Can you tell us how you worked this sense of omniscience into your performance? Do you relate to her role as an observer?
Carmen Madonia— I definitely didn’t feel like I was an observer the way that Ren is when I first read her on the page. Being with Luis for so long, she has this stillness in her where she’s really good at talking and listening to other people and I feel like I tried to bring that sensibility to Ren. What really excited me about the character was the fact that she was so actualized in herself and so confident. I think the power in her is that she really chooses when to show up in that confidence, in relation to when she sits back and lets other people take up that space, I think that relates to your question regarding the role of an observer - that’s not something I had very much skill in before I started working on the role.
In terms of being on camera all the time, I wasn’t fully aware of how much of it would be focused on my face, but part of that is because I didn’t want to look at any of the takes until the movie was totally picture ready. Watching the film now, I feel so proud and at ease seeing it. I think part of that omniscience is that we’re watching Renata react to a very detailed world. Luis’s script is so specific and so definite but it’s not cluttered. It’s edited and pared down. So over the year that I had with the script I got to notice the details that we see Renata noticing on set. I think her experience is really in the nitty gritty which Luis put in the story, those observations helped both navigate and tell the narrative.
The film starts with Renata digging in her bag for her vape. The vape is a huge part of this character's storyline, sense of self and how she relates to the other characters. Talk about the vape as a narrative tool. What does it represent to you, both in the film and personally?
Carmen— Personally the vape is like a necessity, I always need it and I feel like Luis saw that and saw me reaching for it after every take when we were in rehearsals and she incorporated it into the story. For me it is such a tool to express Renata’s self outside of her family and away from her family and her need to hide certain elements of herself. It’s a constant reminder that Renata can’t show up in all of her mess in front of her family, or she feels like she can’t.
What is your favorite flavor?
Carmen— My favorite flavor is good old tobacco. Renata’s flavors were all summer-y and fruity, and the favorite one we had on set was the watermelon one. My least favorite was the mango, it was really bad.
Both the vape and the phone are extensions of the self in this film - Do you think we can go back to making realistic slice of life films without these artificial limbs?
Luis— I think it depends on the character. For younger people, phones, and vapes are a sign of the times. If the film was about Mona or Guido, Ren’s parents, it probably wouldn’t be such a vape heavy movie. Looking back at slice of life films from the past, there seems to always be some kind of material object that anchors a given character to their time. I’m thinking of work from the 70’s - cigarettes were wedged between everyone’s fingers, or dangled from their mouths. Addiction isn’t new, it’s the human condition to be addicted, what changes is the object we’re addicted to.
Addiction isn’t new, it’s the human condition to be addicted, what changes is the object we’re addicted to.
Each of the characters in the film have moments of reckoning with their image. Both Mona and Sienna are extremely anxious dealing with their reflection in the mirror and in photographs. And Guido, on his birthday with the card Renata draws for him asks, “Is that supposed to be me?” Can you talk about what the character’s self images say about the culture and the world of this film? How did you find the moment with the birthday card? It’s so brilliant.
Luis— I’ve never admitted this to anyone, because no one has ever asked — but that specific moment came from my life. My family has a tradition of drawing each other birthday cards, we never buy cards for each other. And one year I ran out of time and quickly did something for my dad’s birthday and drew him with glasses — even though he hadn’t worn them in years. When he pointed it out I felt like shit. I had this image of him in my mind’s eye and had completely forgotten about the man standing right in front of me. The whole film is about these characters making assumptions about each other and failing to see the person standing in front of them.
I think we can be so busy and obsessed with our own image, I mean, we’re looking at literal images of ourselves everyday - which is unnatural. Because the self takes up so much space in our lives now, maybe we don’t have as much time to really take in other people, so we lean into the general sketches we’ve made up for them. Perhaps our curiosity of other people is fading and ironically, it’s leading to our own alienation? I don’t know, these are just theories. But what I loved about working on that birthday scene was when I spoke with each of the actors separately, each of them was convinced that their character was the victim in the scene. That’s why it works so well.
Let’s talk about the stillness, that is probably my favorite part of this film because it feels so healing. I’m thinking specifically of the moments when Ren is alone, and at the end of the film when the family has left the resort. Luis, as a filmmaker, how did you communicate this language of time to your cast and crew? How did you develop this sense of gentleness within yourself?
Luis— I easily feel quite scrambled if I don’t take time for myself. I am constantly taking in, so I need moments of solitude to sink back into myself. I think this translates to my work. When Renata is most at peace she’s usually by herself, or she’s sharing a quiet moment with someone she loves. She’s settling into the moment.
When I’m on set I always feel this pressure to call cut once the main action has played out and things get quiet. But I’ve realized that when you watch something on a monitor screen it feels much longer than what you actually have once you get in the editing room. I usually play this game with myself: If we get the shot and I feel the urge to call cut, I count down from 20 and only call cut once I reach zero. We almost always end up using the full take.
At first the crew questioned the style we were shooting in — we didn’t shoot coverage, everything was very specific and we only rolled on what I knew we would need in the edit. The nature of shooting on film means you have to be incredibly clear and precise — I love the pragmatic film forces of the creative process. But I remember everything changed when we filmed the birthday scene. At that moment, it felt like the crew understood what we were actually portraying, and from that point on everyone leaned into the silence and stillness and weirdness.
Renata is without defense in this film. She has no money, no weapons (other than the destruction of property which she satisfyingly uses on Sienna’s phone and that asshole boy’s clothes). It makes for a character that is both completely free and completely trapped. What was it like working with each other to develop this contradiction?
Carmen— Honestly I think it’s a truth that a lot of people, a lot of 20 somethings, know. For me, it was so exciting to tell a story that felt so authentic to me in so many ways. Being the person who shows up in every space and wants to portray strength and individuality, but at the end of the day is really desiring protection and security. My favorite scene that shows that is when they’re having breakfast and Renata takes money from her father but she doesn’t even ever acknowledge it.
It’s so clear that it’s this central shame that she shouldn’t need help and she does. Preparing for the film there were a lot of moments in my own life, growing pains in being 20 something, that I could really relate to. And even being on set — I had to quit my job to get there and it was a moment of trusting that things were going to work out without having it all figured out. I feel like we get to see Ren do the same thing. At the end of the day, I feel like the reason she feels so free to exist in this way — with no means — is because she knows deep down that she can always go to her parents.
Luis— Similarly to the humor in the film, Ren became more of a doer, more of an antagonist in subsequent drafts of the script. She became less listless and developed a stronger core. Ren more than any other character in the film knows who she is, but the flip side of that is she has a lot of pride, maybe too much.
Ren’s desire for security or support is much more about her place in the world in terms of her career and her worth, not her transness.
Let’s talk about the moment where Mona steps in to try to address the conflict between the two little boys stealing the other child’s doll. Mona is so righteous in this interaction yet it is clear that this righteousness is misplaced. This moment feels so painful and we really feel for both Mona and Renata, who want to handle the situation herself. Could you expand on finding this tension both in your writing, Luis and, Carmen, in your performance?
Luis— I love this question. Very few people comment on this scene. To me you have these two women who are polar opposites, Ren is sardonic and sees silence as power, while Mona is brash and is always the loudest in any given room. Both women know how to stand up for themselves in their own ways, but we see them constantly butting heads. Ren wants to be seen and treated as an adult and Mona wants to just be a good mom. This push and pull all comes to a head in the parking lot scene.
Carmen— Getting to set this was my most dreaded scene, I really felt a lot of anxiety about being able to get to the emotional stakes that Ren was in. But when we got to set, the heat of the day and the bugs and being barefoot on the gravel for hours, it really lent to the moment. It’s the one scene that Ren doesn’t have her vape so that helped too, it made me tense.
It was such an emotional scene to film because we see Renata pushing away the protection and support that so many trans people desire from their family. But I also knew that it was an important narrative device to show that Renata is not desiring love from her family in terms of acceptance or protection from the world in terms of her transness. This scene really allows us to see that Ren’s desire for security or support is much more about her place in the world in terms of her career and her worth, not her transness. While it was hard to get to this place of being so upset about something that I know is so important to so many people, I saw the distinction of pushing away these false gestures of support that so many trans people are told we need, so that we can really focus on a sense of support that is universal to so many people who have a family.
Luis— And ultimately by the end of the film both women see each other clearer - Ren realizes that it’s okay to ask for help and that being an adult means sometimes allowing yourself to play the role of the child for your parents. And Mona realizes that Renata has it more under control then she would like to admit.
Renata is living in a different dimension than everyone around her. The style in which her reality is explored demands the patience of the audience, in pacing, in attention to subtleties, in subverted humors. Luis, can you tell us what it’s been like to make a film which people may not understand immediately because they don’t have reference points for it?
Luis— Honestly it’s equal parts frustrating and validating. The people who get it, get it, and the people who don’t, will get it in 10 years. Trans people do live in an alternate dimension. Our experiences force us to see, and move through the world differently. I hope to see more films made by trans filmmakers that don’t explain so much; we should force people to figure it out, force people to catch up. We’ve always been ahead of our time, audiences will catch up - but we’ll have moved on to something else of course.
How do you predict the continued exploration of trans realities will change the nature of filmmaking?
The film industry is crumbling, or maybe rotting is a better way to put it. They’re trying to figure out some formula, but there is no formula. Or maybe cinema isn’t dying, rather Hollywood is? And in that death something will be born. I remain optimistic.
Last Q — What is your favorite dish to eat on your birthday? I’m still craving that clam linguini and I want to talk about food.
Luis— Oooooh. Good question. Honestly, anything made by my Mom or Nonna; good, hardy, peasant meals from the village are my fave. My mother actually made all the food that the family eats in the film. She was very concerned with the authenticity. My dad contributed his homemade wine, and I think Matthew [Bianchi, production designer] snuck his dad’s limoncello in there. Food is a family affair.
Carmen— On my birthday? I love seafood. Seafood is a birthday thing for me. It’s funny, we never have the birthday cake on set but for me it’s all about the cake. My favorite food on set was the clam linguini. I also ate 5 or 6 servings of that ice cream in the parking lot scene and it was the worst ice cream I’ve ever had.
Watch the trailer below and watch the movie here on MUBI.
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The Voice of the MTA: Bernie Wagenblast
[Originally published in office magazine Issue 20, Fall-Winter 2023. Pre-order your copy here]
What is your ideal office?
My ideal office is pretty much what I work in now. I'm self-employed and I have a home office. My workspace is different from most in that it also doubles as a recording studio where I do voice over work and record my podcasts.
What would your autobiography be titled?
“No One Told Me Life Would Be This Exciting.”
Who has your favorite speaking voice?
It's hard to say one speaking voice is my favorite. There are different qualities I like from different individuals. In terms of a soothing voice, I would say Bob Ross, the painter. An announcer I admire is Vin Scully, while in news it would be Peter Jennings. Listening to trans women who have perfected a feminine-sounding voice, one of my favorites is Zheanna Erose.
What's the most memorable conversation you’ve had with a stranger?
It was brief and perfunctory, but I would say a short conversation I had with President Gerald Ford in the White House in 1976.
What was your last dream about?
I usually forget my dreams moments after waking up, but there is one dream I have repeatedly — it's what's known as a "radio dream." Many people who have been in broadcasting have these types of dreams. It involves some variation of having to go on the air and being unprepared. For me, it usually involves not having a script moments before my mic is turned on. More recently, there's been a variation of that dream where I'm in a play; I haven't even read the script, and find out I have to go on in minutes.
What makes you feel hopeful?
As a trans woman: the personal reaction I've had from friends, neighbors and colleagues makes me feel hopeful that acceptance of trans people will grow after this dark period we're going through currently. I believe a key is folks personally knowing someone who is trans and realizing we're just like them in many ways.
What makes you feel strong?
One advantage to being in my 60s is that I can look back on both high and low points in my life. Both have taught me valuable lessons and have shown me that I can persevere even when going through tough times.
What do you value most?
Family.
What is your favorite way you’ve used your voice?
I'm not a musician but there have been a couple of times where I've performed live as a narrator in front of an audience with a musical accompaniment. First, there's an adrenaline rush that comes when you're live, because there's no "take two" if you mess up. Second, I love the feedback you get from a live audience that you don't get either when you're on the radio or it's your recorded voice.
Who in your life has seen you more clearly than you can see yourself?
My wife. We lived together for 41+ years. That's longer than I spent with anyone and with that length of time you get to know your partner pretty well.