While yes, it would have been funny if the DH and I were actually uhm… being intimate when the first earth quake hit, but we’ve been married for 21 years, we like our sleep. Do you realize that Oklahoma has had FOUR earthquakes that I counted since 2 am Saturday night and I am no longer amused. Those are freaky. Add a tornado watch and severe storms on top of that you have a whole new definition of screwed. Stay indoors and have the house fall on you. Go outside and get struck by lightning. Really God?
Talk about a major kiss off from Mother Nature.
(Crap we just had another tremor as I’m writing)
I’m sorry MN. I take that back.
We in Oklahoma have decided that we need a state song and that our tectonic plates need duct tape. That or a big dose of Valium.
Anyway. Some Carole King for your listening enjoyment.
I wanted to be an actress many moons ago. Unfortunately I look more like Molly Ringwald than Molly Ringwald and couldn’t get cast to save my life.
See what I mean?
They say that possession is 9 tenths of the law. The fact that I had her look before she did is irrelevant. She was already famous. She possessed the coveted contracts with my look before I did. I didn’t get my movie break but I did get a nice head shot for my efforts and I had a lot of fun pursuing a dream.
Life eventually moves on. Business college, careers, love, marriage and children take over. Along the way I spread my creative wings to pick up an acting gig here and there. Nothing spectacular, but enough to keep me satisfied. I am in several corporate training videos from the 1990’s that are as cheesy as training video notoriously are and I’ve done bit sketches and some comedy.
Believe it or not Tulsa is a great place for acting and major motion pictures. Tulsa has a nice midwestern feel that a lot of producers like and so we see movies being shot here rather frequently.
The upside to that, I get work as an extra. Sometimes I’m paid, sometimes not. Even so, it’s creative and fun.
Last summer I got to be in Cowgirls N Angels which comes out next Spring and yesterday I got to film for So This is Christmas which comes out next fall. Both are wonderful movies with not only an excellent cast, but a great message as well.
Acting seems like a strange thing to be thankful for I admit. Being on a sound stage brings my neurosis to a much higher than normal level. Am I dressed right? oh God I brought the wrong clothes. The director hates me. Or does the like me. I can’t tell. Why is he looking at me like that? The lighting guy just smiled at me. What? He’s not the lighting guy — he was standing a ladder – oh crap. That’s… never mind.
I am a walking ball of insecurity 24/7.
Acting keeps my right brain alive and allows me to grow as a person. The fact that I get to participate, even slightly, in a dream I laid down years ago is a huge blessing. For that, I’m thankful.
With American Thanks Giving being in November (My Canadian friends celebrated last month), I thought this would be a good month to write on being thankful. I was consumed in a post Halloween candy hangover rivaling brown bottle flu yesterday and I was not thankful for anything save perhaps my Tums. So I didn’t write […]
When we celebrated Halloween back home in Detroit and Chicago the rule was the scarier the better. Then we moved to Oklahoma. You’re pretty much considered a Satan worshipper if you dare celebrate down here. And if you do – the unwritten code is please keep it “friendly.”
My 18-year-old and I had to find a middle ground. I did friendly, he wanted gruesome. Thought I’d share some of the shots with you.
This freaked out both of my grown sons and died under mysterious circumstances. They tell me the motor went out, but I'm thinking he was murdered.To make up for Mr Scary-Blow-Up-Ghost's untimely demise, D-man decorated the front garden, complete with a fog machine for effect.I know -- too cute for Halloween, right?Even my ghosts aren't all that scary -- but they are cute!Can't forget my scarecrows.Then there's Fred, my "indoor/outdoor" decoration. NOT. His innards are missing. The rain disintegrated them. But at least his eyes still light up and change color.
We live on a dead end street with very few houses actually celebrating Halloween. I don’t get many trick or treaters. But I do love to decorate. Some of my friends celebrate today as the Day of Dead which is fun as well. Other’s ignore today. How do you celebrate All Hallows Eve at your house? I’d love to hear about it.
As someone who struggles with chewing gum while walking my Facebook status can wait. Not everyone however has the same issue. No clue which city posted this sign, but I think it’s hilarious.
You can’t find your voice if you only let others speak for you.
I love the photo from istock. The person in the middle standing out in red with their arms in the air seems so freeing. A visual “ME! I’m here!” in a sea of beige. It speaks to me and so does the quote about letting others speak for me. I think I’ve spent most of my life handing off personal power and pieces of my identity for peace.
I’m only on week two of my voice studies and my brain is already overflowing with Ah Ha moments and inspiration. The assignments have been relatively simple really and yet scary at the same time. I have an Associates Degree while everyone else appears to have a Masters in Lit or higher – heck yes I’m comparing. It scares me.
It’s no coincidence that I would find a writers voice class in the same season that I am questioning my own beliefs about life in general and wondering whose voice really transfers over. Is it my voice people hear or is my version of someone’s expectations? Since I don’t know the answer, I believe that is a question worth exploring.
My journaling goes beyond the lessons these days as I look at why I choose certain phrases and where opinions come from. Am I being rebellious? Am I being afraid? Am I being a parrot? or Am I being me?
Writing has become enjoyable again. They don’t know me. There are no expectations of specific character and behavior. I have the freedom and permission to try on voices like a teenager tries on clothes. There’s no box to fit into.
This class is as freeing as the day I learned how to do stand up — granted I hope and pray writing produces better results. Or maybe the fruit that seed planted *is* growing. Maybe stand-up is just another part of the path of finding myself again. Once I learned how to tell jokes on stage – kill or die trying – other things (like going back to being a Democrat) don’t seem nearly as formidable. I’m eyeball deep in Republicans, trust me when I say that changing back is a bit formidable. Other questions do arise however:
Just because I’m a Christian does that mean I *have* to talk about God all the time?
Can I have opinions that are left of center rather than right?
Can I talk about something else like how hard being middle-aged is sometimes?
Can I talk about love or nature or even sex.
Can I talk about the really sexy artist/poet that makes me melt?
I’m a Mom but do I have to talk about my kids?
Can I swear?
Anne Lamott does.
I remember the first time I read Traveling Mercies and I saw the F-word. It knocked my sensibilities right out of my socks and caused me to double-check the jacket. Yep, she’s a Christian. My eyes lit up, I giggled and looked around wondering if anyone had heard what I just read. Then something magical happened, my soul settled deep into my reading chair and by the end of the book – I wanted dreadlocks too.
Wanting them and actually getting them are not the same thing. Trying them on for size? Totally worth it. I just didn’t know how I was going to do that. I finally had my chance while on a cruise with some new artist friends and had my hair braided on the beach in Costa Maya last Spring. They lasted all of 12 hours. Dreadlocks aren’t me after all — the wires kept poking me. I finally sat straight up in bed at 2 in the morning and spent two hours taking them out.
I don’t have to copy someone’s look or voice or opinion to fit in. And if I do then they aren’t my tribe.
I don’t have to be Anne Lamott or ee cummings or CS Lewis to be a writer. I don’t have to live off of someone else’s faith to be a Christian either. I just have to be wholly me whatever that entails.
This post written by Deana O’Hara for Redemption’s Heart. October 26, 2011. All rights reserved.
If you cannot be a poet, be the poem. ~David Carradine
Johnny Depp refers to Angelina Jolie as “poetry walking” during a post production interview while filming The Tourist and I love that image. Is he speaking of her body, her eyes, her scent? Maybe it’s the way she carries herself or how she speaks. Poetry walking has an understated sexuality to it as well as sensual imagery.
As a woman this makes me weak in the knees.
As a poet this inspires me.
What *is* poetry walking? I’ll spend a good part of November exploring that.
Writing prompt for my nablopomo sisters – if you are so inclined – what is poetry walking to you?
While yes, it would have been funny if the DH and I were actually uhm… being intimate when the first earth quake hit, but we’ve been married for 21 years, we like our sleep. Do you realize that Oklahoma has had FOUR earthquakes that I counted since 2 am Saturday night and I am no longer amused. Those are freaky. Add a tornado watch and severe storms on top of that you have a whole new definition of screwed. Stay indoors and have the house fall on you. Go outside and get struck by lightning. Really God?
As someone who struggles with chewing gum while walking my Facebook status can wait. Not everyone however has the same issue. No clue which city posted this sign, but I think it’s hilarious.
If you cannot be a poet, be the poem. ~David Carradine
Deana O'Hara - Speaker, Comedian, Writer 