"Tulpa, or Anne&Me" fundraising campaign ends TODAY

On January 12 at 11:59pm EST, the IndieGoGo campaign for my play, Tulpa, or Anne&Me is ending. Although people have supported the project by contributing a total of about $1,700, there is still $1,300 to go.

Let’s break this down mathematically. If only 130 readers each donate just $10 TODAY, Tulpa, or Anne&Me will reach its fundraising goal.

With so many conversations going on about who gets to tell stories about people of color, the importance of things like “Shit White Girls Say … To Black Girls,” the release of George Lucas’ Red Tails, and otherwise being an ally supporting voices of color in arts and entertainment, your contribution sends a message that it matters to you that these find their way on stage and screen, that it matters who tells these stories, that it matters who benefits from these stories, and that it matters who gets to witness these stories.

Tell the world that it matters to you. Take a couple of moments to say so now.

P.S. If you are sick and tired of first-person shooters starring square-jawed White dudes, you should check out and support the Arkh Project too.

Will you contribute $50 to support theatre by and about queer Black women?

“When I dare to be powerful - to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid” — Audre Lorde


Earlier this year, I wrote and produced a play called Tulpa, or Anne&Me that debuted at the Planet Connections Theatre Festivity.

Since that first production, I’ve often been asked about what’s next for Tulpa, or Anne&Me. This is a great sign because it means that the play has touched people in some deep places and led to powerful moments of growth and healing for many. I feel a real responsibility to make this piece the best I can make it and bring it to as many places as I can where people want and need to see it.

Right now, I’m talking with someone who can offer me an opportunity for more performances in mid- to late April. Despite the fact that I’m based in NYC, there are still only a few plays by and about queer Black women being made. Although the world we live in wants me to be comfortable with feeling insignificant, I no longer have the luxury to deceive myself into believing that my work and my voice are not important.


I am raising $3,000 for the 2012 production of Tulpa, or Anne&Me. If only 60 people contribute just $50 each*, I can reach that goal. If only 60 people contribute just $50 each, my work will have another chance to do what it’s meant to do — pave the way for healing and transformation in our lives, relationships, and communities. If only 60 people contribute just $50 each, they will be doing more than putting a story on stage, but creating a vibrant opportunity to honor those of us who are Black and woman and queer.

  Will you contribute $50 to be part of that process?


(*That works out to only 1 person a day for the next 60 days.)

artist vs. audience? maybe not.

At the 2AMt blog, Aaron Andersen asks if we really want to be like Apple.

In my comment responding to the post, I reveal my fully fledged nerd status when I said:

Sometimes I wonder about this artist/audience division. Speaking for myself, I write plays like the ones I like to or want to see. So in a weird, roundabout way, I am the audience too. This does gel with my experience with roleplaying games, where the creators of the content are the same as its audience (generally speaking).

To what extent is it likely that we often set up a dichotomy between artist and audience that doesn't have to be there? What would our relationship to our work be like if that distinction was not there (or was at least heavily muted)?

Just in case you had doubts about how big a nerd I am, I came to theatre from roleplaying games. And no, a few sessions of D&D ain't what I'm talking about. I mean whole shelves taken up by White Wolf Games, Dungeons & Dragons, and indie RPGs that most people probably never heard of. And let's not talk about the games I designed myself.

During a brief Twitter conversation, I shared that what made roleplaying games unique is the fact that the audience and creators of a game are typically one and the same, so the division between artist and audience doesn't necessarily exist for me. I don't think about the audience as though I'm somehow separate and aloof from it. As a matter of fact, I write the things I want to see.

Does the fact that I create content by itself put me in a different category from the rest of the theatre-going community? I suppose one could argue that I bring specialized knowledge or expertise to the process, but I don't doubt that there are theatre-goers who have a broader and deeper knowledge of theatre than I do and who can probably articulate their ideas about it much better than I can.

Are artist and audience really separate in some fundamental way? If so, where does the division between artist and audience lie?

Tulpa is ALMOST there thanks to YOU!

Everything you've done so far - big favors or small acts of kindness - is the reason why Tulpa, or Anne&Me has come this far. No matter what your role is in this project - artist, audience member, moral support or just a little help in the background - everything you do means a lot. I really appreciate everyone who's had a hand (or finger or toe) in making Tulpa possible.

Because of you, we have less than $150 to go! That's only 6 people donating just $25 each!

If Tulpa, or Anne&Me has touched your life in any way, please let people know by:

• forwarding this e-mail to friends you think would be interested
• connecting to RVCBard on Twitter
• sending your ideas for the next phase of Tulpa, or Anne&Me
• leaving comments on this blog or at Ars Marginal
• telling a friend (or 10) about this crazy play you heard about/acted in/directed/contributed to
• pitching a story or project related to Tulpa, or Anne&Me so we can get the word out
• coming to the FUNraiser on April 9 so you can meet everyone and have a good time
  

Working on Tulpa, or Anne&Me has taught me something very important: to challenge my expectations. Most of the people contributing to Tulpa, or Anne&Me have not been artists or activists or academics, but regular people who've read the script or checked out Tulpa's IndieGoGo campaign and said, "Yes, this is what I need to see," or "Finally! Someone who's talking about this like a real person and not a pundit," or "Thank God! Someone understands!"

It cuts across age, income, and race. It gives me a lot of hope to see that the greatest hope for real change comes from everyday people like you.

I appreciate that, and I mean it.

ETA: WE DID IT!!!

"Tulpa" needs YOU!

A while back, I announced that Tulpa, or Anne&Me is getting a staged reading at the Planet Connections Theatre Festivity this June.

I'm really grateful for everyone who's stuck by me through Tulpa's journey to this amazing opportunity. Your support has played a big part in keeping me focused and giving me the courage to move forward with this quirky little play. But to make this worthwhile, we need help.

We're trying to raise $1,000 for the event in order to cover the costs of production - the biggest one being rehearsal space and paying the artists a small stipend. Check out our IndieGoGo campaign for a better idea of what we're doing and why this stage is so important.

I did the math on this, and it's very doable. If we can get just 50 people to contribute only $20, we can meet our goal. All I'm asking is that if you can spare it, I'd really appreciate it (and you'll get a thanks from me). And if there is just one other person - just one person - you know who'd be willing to support Tulpa, or Anne&Me, please spread the word and let them know about it. It might not look or sound like much, but it does add up.

Thank you so much for being with me through all this. I really owe you one, and I'm going to do my damndest to pay you back.

Save the date: April 9 for Movie FUNraiser

I've been really busy with Crossroads Theatre Project and the Planet Connections Theatre Festivity. If you're going to be in town, I'd really like to see you at the staged reading of Tulpa, or Anne&Me. If you've seen it and know some people who should see it too, please tell them - even if you can count them on one hand.

As we're gearing up for the reading, we're planning a FUNraising event to pay for rehearsal space. On the evening of Saturday, April 9 (let's say 8pm), we'll be screening a movie at Houndstooth Pub. The theme for the event will be girl power - movies with women in lead roles who don't need a man to be awesome. We're looking at showing

1. Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland,
2. Heathers (starring Winona Ryder and Christian Slater), or
3. Quentin Tarantino's Death Proof.

We'll choose the movie based on which one gets the biggest donation. So even if you can't be there, your vote will count! Simply click on the button below to donate:



Don't worry - this isn't going to be one of those "siddown and shaddup" movie-going experiences. You can laugh, talk at the screen, boo/hiss and otherwise act like a complete groundling with no culture at all.

It's going to be a lot of fun! Where else can you go out and catch a cool movie, drink beer, and meet great people at the same time?

I'd love to see you there and catch up on what you've been up to. Even if you can't be there, your support would mean a lot. Whether it's donating $10 or just letting 5 people know that beer and food and a movie will happen at the same place, every little bit helps, and I appreciate it.

Hope to see you in April (and also in June)!

(By the way, you can visit Off Book Market to get your own copy of Tulpa, or Anne&Me. Quite a few people have some great things to say about it.)

on ticket pricing (now with ninjas)

With the back and forth between 2amt and Parabasis going on, I suppose the discussion about ticket pricing is now officially an Important Topic, so I did some reading and now feel comfortable enough to jump in.

People had a lot of thoughtful commentary about pricing models and artistic vision and blah blah blah. But none of them mentioned the most essential element of ticket pricing.

Ninjas.

I know what you're thinking. What the fuck kind of non-sequitur is this, RVCBard? C'mon, we're discussing Something Really Serious And Important, and all you can say is fucking ninjas?

Let me ask you something. When was the last time you saw a ninja at your show? Exactly! You're not supposed to see them because they're doing what ninjas do best - remain invisible.

Guys, you're missing out on a tremendous opportunity here. Do you know how many ninjas can fit inside a 30-seat black box theatre? Lots. Especially under the seats and on the ceiling. I know because they sent me secret messages telling me so. You know what else they tell me? That they've been watching you very closely. And when you do something they don't like, they use the deadly art of ninjutsu to kill audience members to prevent them from seeing your show. So that's where the shuriken and dead bodies are coming from.

So, theatre blogosphere: WHERE ARE YOUR NINJAS?

Can your art be your living? Should it?

Don Hall says you can't make a living off your art. Guy asks whether we should. What do you think?

Frankly, I'm veering toward Don's POV. And it's not because of little things like reality, probability and so on. It's because not making a living off theater makes my work better - because real people live in the real world and as a theater artist, that's where my focus needs to be. Even if I do something completely surreal and fantastical, the core will be about life as it is lived today. I can't get that if I'm a sort of secular monk who can't be bothered with the lives and concerns of laypeople.

crossroads, making progress, and thoughts on fundraising

So, Crossroads Theatre Project is gaining momentum thanks to some very generous supporters (from the blogosphere and LiveJournal). In a little less than 10 days, people have contributed over $300 in support.

This looks like a little bit, but if you extrapolate over a few weeks, that's a hell of a lot for a no-name play by a no-name playwright. There's still a long way to go, but if things keep going at this rate, we'll meet the financial goals for a full production of Tulpa, or Anne&Me within 10 weeks.

And the benefits of that are very tangible for our would-be audience. In a nutshell, more shows at reasonable prices*.

(*I define reasonable as what I'd pay to go see a movie - ticket, popcorn, and soda. I got the ticket part down. It's the popcorn and soda I need to work on.)

When I Grow Up

I'm going to do something that's likely very, very stupid on this post. I'm going to tell you what I want to do when I grow up. Isaac posted a blurb about this over on his blog. But since I'm continually dissatisfied with what I write (I veer between being as great as Shakespeare and a talentless poser who's just faking it until she realizes there's no hope for her), I revised it.

Also, to give a bit of context: I'm not writing this for my health. I really do want to do this. I really can do this. I just need a crack in the door.

I write text for artists, designers, and performers to talk about their work. Whether the audience is a funding organization, a donor, or just the average person on the street, I provide the words that express how powerful and engaging their work really is.

Let me be really honest. You can find someone with more skill, more experience, and more connections. You can find someone faster and cheaper. But you won't find many who are artists themselves. I'm a playwright. So I understand what it means to put your heart into something you create. I know what it's like to have dry spells and struggle with the direction you want your work to take. I can relate to how you can be both confident and insecure about your work. I understand the need for space. I understand flow.

I know a lot of stuff is all hype and no substance. But that's not me. I'm not doing this for fame and fortune. I don't want to get rick quick or become an overnight success. I just want to make a living using my writing skills to help the kind of people I enjoy working with - creative, passionate, intelligent people out there doing what they love. I want to tell the world about these wonderful people and the awesome work they're doing.

Who better to do that than someone who knows what you go through?

Art and Money

Don wrote a great article about how theater artists' assumptions about the relationship between money and art often don't make sense (and sometimes work against them).

Everything he says makes perfect sense to me. Then again, I'm not a Theater Person. I'm just someone who wants to stage weird experimental plays. I really don't know why I want to do this other than a craving for mystery and intimacy. In a sense, I'm the ultimate amateur. I write plays because I'm enamored with the process*.

But - and this is somewhat ironic - it often seems that a lot of Theater People don't want people like me involved in the actual making of a show. Sure, I'd be allowed to usher people to their seats or work the box office. I'd definitely be welcome to help strike. But writing the play? Designing something? Even - gasp! - acting? No need to apply. I'll have to go through the "proper channels".

IOW, doing something I don't want to do at greatly reduced pay so I can, perhaps, sometimes in the distant future, have a sliver of a chance at doing what I really want to do.

Anybody else notice the irony in this?





*I enjoy the process of transformation. The act of change - in all its forms - is a source of (often morbid) fascination to me. Babies growing in the womb, werewolves changing, rotting fruit, turds turning to dirt, seeds becoming trees, decaying carcasses, fluffy clouds to rain clouds, coccoon to butterfly, etc.

Putting It Out There

This is my attempt to reach out to the people who read this to see if they can help.

I'm moving to NYC by the first week of July. I've made my decision and done my research, so there's nothing anyone can do to dissuade me aside from New York being invaded by zombies or vaporized by a nuclear bomb. I realize that finding a place to stay will be a lot easier if I find work first. Ideally I'd like a position where I can use my talent for writing and editing, but I'd be a freelance security guard for a theater if it came down to that (in other words, sleep on a prop couch and make sure nobody breaks in). I don't care if it's entry-level as long as I can take care of necessities like rent and food while building contacts with the local theater community. Otherwise, I'm seriously considering the merits of living on the subway or a park bench..

Can somebody help me here?