Andrew: It's such a shame they changed the shooting dates of Little Women and you couldn't be 'the cat'.
Kitty: It was only a tiny, teeny part…
Andrew: Yes, but you were a 'day cat player' not an extra. And you would have got to meet Greta and Saoirse.
Kitty: That would have been so, so much fun. 'cat could've been me' [in Kitty's great Brando impersonation] ;) Amy drew a really lovely cat!
Andrew: [pause..impressed] You do have great eyes, Kit.
Kitty: Well, I am a cat, at least the last time I looked:) I'm convinced Saoirse's a mermaid, she sees another future in those eyes…..maybe I should be a writer….
Andrew: You certainly have a lot to tell! We must try and get you a good movie when things are back to normal and you can surf on the publicity.
Kitty: Oooooo, 'surfer Cat'! Cat on a cool tin board….!
t'b'
c"t
Interesting that I kinda inadvertently made homeless a real kitten when being a good citizen the other day clearing my garden (mind you it's been a task when left to me unattended for 25 years!). Still no reply from the SPCA (but it's holiday time even in Covid…). Then I thought, well, who cares about this one little kitten when how many cats and odds were maimed or killed by one explosion in Beirut?! It always comes down to the particular. Avidly been watching Studio 5 from New York City Center- NYCB ballerinas interviewed by Alastair Macaulay and couched by former ballerinas. One question raised: what does someone, whose whole life is performing in the theater every night of their career, do in the evenings when there is no..let alone. Made me think. So too did the whole Zoom 'thing' and now colleagues who you would only pass in the corridor on stage, in rehearsal 'cause they was just NO time: now they all have time to 'talk' via the internet. This should continue as a 'thing', no?!
And the 'spotlight' thing came to mind. I very much doubt that any great performer has ever longed for the 'spotlight'. Such shallow acclaim. One NYCB principal said when speaking of a camera shoot, 'I miss being watched'. That's not in any way the same as loving the 'spotlight'. The trouble strikes really when your career is in movies and you do become that 'thing' in the spotlight when it was never one's intention nor wanted. It is the death to creative freedom and invention. And those who have little else most certainly thrive.
So so dis-heartened when placing that kitten in a big open box (back where I had hoped rescued her) just big enough not to leap out. Placing a bowl of tuna beside hoping that 'Moma' would appear. Only to find all the tuna had been eat, and the kitten left still in the box. We've all been there, haven't we? One doesn't want to despair. But our 'stage' is bliss when we some do indeed find it. Fraught with injuries both physical and emotional.
Some of us really do get to swim with the mermaids, always the disillusionment of T.S Eliot lapping at our fins.
and the good news is that both the new bowl of 5pm tuna and the kitten from the box are gone as of 7.30pm, speaking of ‘live’;) oh-p.s. the kitten can’t ‘eat’ yet but loves the fish sauce…so…
Well: tomorrow is another day
[By repute, a telegram sent by Donald Duck from his New York hotel room in 1942 rallying the troops to..?]
Andrew: Kitty ?!!!!!
Kitty: On a clear day rise and look around you….
Andrew: ok…..;)
An absolutely ordinary re-union with the cast and creators of the musical Carrie. Everyone who has anytime for this website and the creative process really should watch this. All those ‘ordinaries’ adding up to be big extraordinary. Everyone, time, you see happy, smiling faces accepting Tony and Oscar awards…I don't believe in struggle and failure. I always wish the best for everyone. Does that struggle make you a better human? Perhaps wiser. Perhaps stronger. Maybe, perhaps, sometimes- one has no more strength to share or indeed bear.
Only the belief that tomorrow is yet another day….
Didn't in any way mean this ending to be a 'downer'. I did get a little dulcet tone meeting with 'moma' cat. She sat down and enjoyed my 'purr' (socially distanced at 12 feet). And last I saw of 'moma' and daughter was so, so freakily coincidental (checking on whether they had eat the food bowl left out at dusk last night). Moma walking her to a 'safe place' (very flattered she still considered my garden safe after finding her daughter in a cardboard box!;) Literally, kitten placed her left paw momentarily on 'moma's back as she followed behind. Felt that I had done something right, once, in my life. But I worry.
Methinks of so many sad David Attenborough reality tales of animal life. Creatures working so hard to make everything good for their offspring and yet….(was going to tell tales but that is the last thing we need now in quarantine. Is it?)
Next morning, just checking, and that little 'scrap' (just spied her 'mom' who quietly sat back camouflaged), came bounding up to me, albeit, meowing through a wire fence. If only I could reach over and hug her. And yet the whole point of this was for her to believe in her 'mom'.
Simple is affairs that touch the heart.
Simple are the ways of love.
Simple as the touch of another's hands.
Simple enough for anyone to understand, but you.
Simple are the ways we come apart.
Simple as a babe is new.
Simple as a tree and as simple as a cloud.
Its as simple as the simplest things have always been.
Simple as the sun and the moon and the stars in the sky.
Simple are the way we say good-bye.
