First page of the Queen archive.

my inciting incident

Posted by jessica on Jan 15, 2010 with 17 Comments
in Thoughts and Feelings
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I’m watching Never Been Kissed.

And Josie, the nerd-turned-popular-girl, was just crowned the Prom Queen.

This is her crowning moment, her own Alpine Path realized, right?

And there she is, dancing with the Prom King, the most popular guy in school. But something’s not quite right. And then  you notice that the score hasn’t totally resolved and you realize it’s a fake ending.

That there’s something even better; something worth some more waiting.

She looks around at all of them, all of the attempts to be cool, to be smart, to be pretty, to be something that can be defined in one word and a pair of tight jeans, and sees the masquerade for what it is.

And then she unmasks.

It’s brave and it’s risky living and it’s what a story teller would call an inciting incident. This means that afterwards, something’s gotta change. Basically, it’s impossible to go back to life as you knew it after this takes place. One of my favorite authors, Donald Miller, says:

An inciting incident is the event in a movie that causes upheaval in the protagonist life. The protagonist, then, naturally seeks to return to stability. And in order to do that, he HAS to solve his new problem. In Taken, Liam Neeson’s daughter is kidnapped and he MUST find her. In The Grapes of Wrath, the dust bowl forces the Joad family west.

So when Josie, who’s an undercover investigator in a high school, reveals her true identity as an adult, she can no longer go back to life as she knew it. She must create a new normal. And yes, it’s a movie, and yes, it’s called Never Been Kissed, so of course her new normal involves the love of her life and the kind of kiss that makes me forget that life isn’t all sweet.

I guess my point is that I’ve just had a huge inciting incident occur. I mean, like, horrible and awful and ugly but still, that’s what it is.

Something’s gotta change. Not that it hasn’t already, but I believe there are even more changes coming. And judging from the fact that I am living with my very kind and generous parents right now, I am truly hoping there are more changes coming.

(But thanks! mom and pop…)

And whatever’s coming involves guts and moxie and (I’m hoping) the kind of stuff that makes me forget that life isn’t all sweet.

And I’m hoping that whoever’s writing my story is half as good a writer as whoever wrote Never Been Kissed. Okay, so I know He is, but I wouldn’t mind if it involved some kind of happy ending like the movie.

And a whole heck of a lot less white feather boas, pale lipstick, and curled bangs throughout.

something to sing about

Posted by jessica on Nov 28, 2009 with 14 Comments
in I Lift My Eyes Up, Thoughts and Feelings
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Tonight we broke out the craft table and started coloring.
Christmas scenes. The manger. Evergreens and wreaths.

And now I am listening to Christmas music and instead of trying to wonder what it all means, I am just letting it happen.
The transformation that comes from believing in something greater than yourself.
The small inkling of hope that comes from seeing beauty in the ruins. Something familiar in the wild. I imagine that’s what the British settlers must have felt when that first little baby, named Virginia Dare after the Virgin Queen, was introduced to Roanoke. It was probably no small relief when they saw with their eyes, felt with their hands those soft little baby fingers that gave evidence to the mysterious cycle of life that continued despite being so very far from home.
I remember as a teenager going to some crack houses in Philadelphia, handing out hot egg sandwiches to people who were skinnier and sadder than they should be. Everywhere I looked, the story was not good. All the clues–the boarded up windows, door frames that no longer bothered with an actual door, kids in ragged clothes that fit somebody at some point, but it sure wasn’t them and it sure wasn’t now–added up to a people who had given up hope.
Until I met him.
One guy, whose name escapes me all these years later, was different.
Not because he didn’t quickly grab a sandwich or wasn’t addicted to crack or worse. But because of two things that still stand out clearly to me now:
He looked me in the eyes. Like we were both people. Just people. Neither better or worse than the other. Maybe luckier, sure, but not better. And what’s that saying? We’re all on the same level before the cross. Well, that’s true. And we are also all made up of DNA, of thoughts we learned to think from the way the world has reacted to us through the years, and a jumble of painful wounds and loving touches that make us who we are today.
And there was an air of transcendence about him also. I felt it when he opened his mouth and sang for me. He sang Amazing Grace and I couldn’t help but believe it. All of it. I saw the wretchedness of his home, felt where he has been and knew without a shadow of a doubt that he needed somebody and was not about to turn grace, any grace, down.
And there he was, just singing. In the ugliest place in Philadelphia, it was beautiful. Like an alter not built from materials that can crumble with the passing of time, but made from a raw honesty and the desire to look up, up, up; past these old buildings and even the charity that would fleetingly last the afternoon, he sang and made life better.
And no, a song can’t fill your stomach and no, a song can’t pay your bills, but it sure can transcend you. It sure can remind you that there is something more to life than our own hollow desires and the way that we clumsily hurt each other.
And I guess that is why I am going to keep on singing.
Because I want to look up, up, up. Not in denial, necessarily, but in belief that there is still something to sing about.
Sorry for the deep thoughts (by Jack Handy). Maybe next time I listen to Christmas music I will write about silver bells and whether or not an angel or a star should top the tree.
Um, totally a star, by the way.

opening night in Tokyo!

Posted by jessica on Aug 12, 2009 with No Comments
in Performance, photography
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Ah. Another opening night. Only this one was kind of special because it was in Tokyo. And we had super big screens to the right and left of our stage with characters on them that looked like this: #$# # #$% &* Okay, so not really like that, per se, but that’s the closest thing [...]