A Future.

I recently came to a prompt in my journal based on a line from Baz Luhrmann's "Everybody's Free To Wear Sunscreen", a message to the class of 1999:

DON'T WORRY ABOUT THE FUTURE. KNOW THAT WORRYING IS AS EFFECTIVE AS CHEWING BUBBLE GUM TO SOLVE AN ALGEBRA EQUATION.

I've always believed this future to be the one years from now. The one where we've succeeded at our career, where we've collected the family, where we've seen "it". But I've been hitting blockades recently that I know are keeping me from whatever "it" is. It's the minor stuff like starting my new knitting project, reaching out to a friend, and writing a blog post.

Procrastination doesn't fully express these blockades. And it's not the fear of starting. It's the fear of starting and not having it be correct. There are times when the tools just haven't formed to feel comfortable taking the next step; I fear going forward empty handed.

What I'm realizing though is that the majority of these tools bubble to existence in the midst of the action. It's when my fear gets in the way that I am unable to grasp them to ultimately use them.

The future that I have been worrying about is the one ten minutes ahead of me. That's the future to release all expectations from, allowing it to flow whatever way it does into my travels.

"If you are depressed, you are living in the past.
If you are anxious, you are living in the future.
If you are at peace, you are living in the present."
- Lao Tzu

July?

Somehow July feels like years ago. But I can't believe it's already August. Does that happen to you? It's a weird, recent phenomenon of mine: unbelieving that "time" has past so quickly while also feeling as though that "time" was years ago.

Flying time, twirling like a vulture in the blue.

July was a whirlwind of emotions that have begun to streamline as we've spun into August. My time at Theatre By The Sea - with their production of "Annie" - was the hardest and best experience I've had in a long time.

This was the first show where I was dog-handling as well as performing in the ensemble. Now, I haven't performed in a full scale musical since "The Producers" two years ago... I was terrified and ecstatic all at once. I fell back into rehearsal mode and was reminded me why I'm in this fields; my love of performing and the camaraderie of show-people sparked a super-nova within me. There were the little moments throughout the show (a short jump sequence as a sailor in NYC, singing Ab's in Tomorrow Reprise, a quick comic exit with Ms. Hannigan) that brought life to the dormant actor within my varied soul.

Of course I could not forget the constant magic that is working with animals onstage. Macy truly is a special soul. With a past that would haunt any animal, Macy has risen from ashes to be one of Bill's stars. Her love and trusting outlook is something I strive for in my own life. We had 4 different Annies in a 6 week process, which is unheard of and could have been disastrous for Macy. But she rose above, rising to the occasion like a true professional.

Amidst all the craziness that was this production, I reverted back to an over-analytical, fearful individual: second-guessing choices, feeling lost - similar to that of an addict who begins abusing again. I am able to stand here now and acknowledge these behaviors (that are still flaring up from time to time), while having amazing individuals around me who help me snap out of this destructive mode. And to them, I am too grateful (if that's even possible).

I cannot wait to bring my now packed tool-belt with me to my next dog-handling gig. Next up is a "Legally Blonde" out in Long Beach, CA with Frankie for the fall, then to Jupiter, FL for the winter with Macy for another "Annie" (that I will get to perform in as well).

This must all be a dream I'm living: so grateful.

What to say?

I told myself I would blog once a month.

Scrambling, I've searched my insides for anything to write on.

Now it's an evening of June 30th, and time ticks towards July.

So here I am.

For this -

What to say?

Life is great and filled with gratitude.

I have work in theater; what else can someone ask for?

Transitions are beginning to settle.

In turn, they are creating habits upon which to build.

Sharing a world of dreams.

Here I twirl on.

And that's so much more than dandy for me.

I hope you check back in again when I have more to say.

Thanks for joining me in my blissful joy of this moment.

To the festival! The festival? The festival! The Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival?

Who knew Sondheim and sheep would ever collide. I sure didn't. And yet, here it has.

Blogs: bringing weird shit together.

I recently returned to New England after spending a week back at Shepherd's Hey Farm. Having a few weeks in between gigs, I was overjoyed when my time off coincided with the infamous Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival's 40th Anniversary weekend. For many years, Lee has shown and sold sheep and fleeces at the festival. She also volunteers to help run this massive event, which collects vendors and sheepsman/woman from around the country. Seriously... People drive out from California to show their stock at this festival.

It's SHEEP PRIME TIME, at its finest.

Having had won sheep-showmanship at the Guilford Fair my senior year of high school (one of my proudest trophies), I was so excited to be in front of a crowd with a sheep by my side. I also knew this to be an exciting yet tiring time for Lee, so the extra hand I would be, helping feed the still nursing ewes mornings and evenings, plus the 5+ bottle babies she has at the farm. Yes, back to feeding lambs bottles; I had missed it.

This weekend is a true celebration of the sheep and all they have to offer. Sheep provide us with some of the most sustainable factors: food, clothing, and mowing the lawn. But seriously, look at sheep for a moment. I dare you to find out all the ways sheep affect our world - more importantly, your world.

In this/my year of the sheep, I am cultivating a relationship with these creatures whom I first believed to be quite dumb, spastic, and delicious. When working with sheep, you have to take away an aspect of our United States humanity: we must be patient beings.

This is something I uncovered early on this year, but it took a new form this past week. All of a sudden, patience didn't mean waiting for these passive creatures to calm down before taking them by forceful surprise. Patience means coming to the level upon which they stake ground, understanding what they must be going through, knowing when and where to apply pressure, and more importantly knowing when to release. It's the release that immediately sends a direct line of trust and compassion, producing a bond of honest affection: being there for one another.

Now what would theatre be like if we could tap into that kind of patience? What would humanity be like?

Thank you to all the volunteers who made the 40th Anniversary of the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival such an amazing weekend. As a first-timer, I look forward to many years to come. And thank you to Shepherd's Hey Farm for letting me join in with their award-winning sheep and wool! What a blast!

Return to the Fold.

"Would you like to help us choreograph the rest of this year's musical at GHS?"

The call came from Kevin Buno, choir teacher extraordinaire plus this year's director of Guilford High School Theatre Art's production of "The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee".

"Of course! I would be so honored!" I responded energetically.

Pulling up to my high school alma mater that first day of rehearsal was nerve racking to say the least. I wasn't sure if I had had enough time away from the dilapidated halls of those high school years. But, when I stepped into that auditorium (still run-down and dreary) I knew I was home.

At Middlebury, my Education Studies minor focused in grades K-6, the main reason being that the thought of working with high schoolers scared me. Why? Not completely sure. All I knew was I didn't want to venture back into those surprisingly emotion ridden days. And yet here I was, looking out at the scratchy-blue folding seats of the high school auditorium, placing myself at the front-line, unknowing of what I had agreed to.

It took me a while to understand how to relate to high schoolers. These kids weren't the second graders I taught at Middlebury. They weren't the college and graduate students at CLOC. And they weren't the equity actors at Ivoryton. I was learning on the go while pushing for and expecting greatness, knowing GHSTA could only produce that.

I ruffled feathers because I'm a hard-ass. The students pushed my boundaries and I in turn pushed theirs, balancing out to a stupendous working relationship that surfaced endless amounts of respect and laughter from both sides of the coin.

I remember sitting in my Guidance Counselor's office my sophomore year at GHS. Ms. Scaccia turned to me in the middle of our talk (it was probably a Thursday and I most likely had already been in two times earlier that week) and said to me, "Schuyler, you're ready for college, aren't you?"

I was. I couldn't wait to get out of GHS. I had friends, but I felt like the majority of them failed to extend past the final bell. Theatre was there, but I still felt like something in my friendships was missing, that individuals didn't care enough about me to want to get together outside of school. Everyone was going to parties, getting togethers, seeing movies, and I was rarely invited.

As I left our absolutely joyous, riveting, and hilarious opening last night, I realized that it wasn't anything my high school friends were doing (or rather, what they weren't doing) to make me feel so alone: it was me. I could only imagine how difficult and annoying it was to hang out with closeted Schuyler; oof, that sounds like torture. Now looking back, all I can say is it was what it was. All those high school days of worry and frustration didn't have anything to do with my peers; it was all me when you boil it down.

Now, how you get to this kind of realization by choreographing a high school production of "...Spelling Bee" I'm not entirely sure. But I do know that these students' love, support, and willingness to learn AND be themselves was by far the dominant factor. I am so grateful for this opportunity and am looking forward to heading back to GHSTA in upcoming months, giving back any way I can to a program that shaped who I am today as not only a performer, but a person as well.

I encourage all my high school friends to take a trip back to the fold. Who knows what you'll discover...

Separated from the Flock.

I knew in leaving the city, I would be distancing myself from a whole network I had woven together. These individuals come from all walks of life, bringing their vibrant selves and driven goals into the fold, ultimately inspiring a force to be reckoned with in this creative world. Leaving their immediate sides was extremely hard, but I understood, and continue to see, that moving back to Connecticut was the best decision for me and my career. 

Being an only child, I'm used to being alone. If I don't have my alone time, I'll become a nasty bitch. I've recognized this and just make sure to take that time consciously and willingly. But, I miss my quilted family from the city and the abilities to easily snuggle in when that contact, that connection, is needed. Here in Connecticut, there simply are more times when I feel alone, and all I want to do is cry out like that lamb separated from her flock, hoping someone will come find me.

It's doable, going into the city and seeing people. But it's on that cusp of being easy and difficult. This seesaw effect is surprisingly trying on the soul. Plans made are now an event, every time, when before it could be a break. Thus, I usually revert to staying home to make it all "easier".  

One fact I kept sharing with patrons and creatives at Long Wharf Theater was that sheep are super responsive to the energy around them. They're herd animals, they have to be aware of what's going on around them or they could be left behind, alone and vulnerable: the worst fate for a sheep. So, if the audience or actors were excited, so was Edie. And on the other side, if people were calm, she was calm. All she wanted to do was be with those around her; there is a safety in numbers, being with others. 

I have realized that I need to make more of an effort to go into the city and see those people who make me laugh, think, and create by the love and light they naturally emanate. I must file back into that herd mentality every now and again to check in with those I love, and in return, grow myself. The social animal I became in the city is still alive in me and needs its flock more often. So now it's a factor of switching my mind set: make the "event" a "break". 

It's possible because it has to be. 

Along with this, I hope to weave another family here in Connecticut. It's time - now that I have the time - to get out there and find those like-minded peers. As much as I yearn for this social-ness of life, there is something so middle-school-scary about throwing yourself into new social situations. And yet, it must happen.

So, here's to jumping up and out with both feet. 

A lamb is in my house...

There’s a stage-sheep living in my house. 

Her name is Little Edie. And yes, before you ask, she was named after Little Edie from “Grey Gardens”: the obvious choice. 

And so the year of the sheep continues with this beautiful little addition to the Boston Street Beeman Family.  

I’ve recently began working with William Berloni, the original Sandy trainer for “Annie”, who has created a career around humanely integrating animals onto stage creations. Bill rescues all of the animals he works with: the true example of second chances. Be sure to check out his website to see all the shows he's been a part of plus all the animals he's worked with! http://www.theatricalanimals.com/

As for Edie, this is her big stage debut! At 3 weeks old, I’d say we’re giving Mama Rose a run for her money... We’re part of Long Wharf Theater’s production of “Curse of the Starving Class” by Sam Shepard, which specifically calls for a live lamb onstage for two scenes of the play. The whole cast and crew is in love with Edie, and she knows it. #DIVA 

Do you train a lamb? Ummm... Well, you make a lamb comfortable onstage, and that’s exactly what we did so she is as happy as a clam. Her crib is covered with blankets with lamb chow sprinkled on top, plus her favorite chew toy, my old Docksider. Lambs chew on everything (the more dangerous the better as I have learned). I have trained my eye to see every possible lamb-chewable object and quickly be able to put it out of lamb's reach. So, if you ever need to lamb proof your house, you know where to go...

After the show ends, Edie will be adopted out to a farm where she’ll live out her days as quite a special sheep. Upon green hills, she’ll share her stage stories as the star of Sam Shepard’s play (at least that’s what she believes, and I just go with it; what’s the point of bringing a 3 week old back to reality?).

Whenever I explain Edie's schedule, they marvel: “She’s just like a baby!” Well... She is. She has a schedule for bottles, napping and exercise, I’m changing diapers multiple times a day (Picture it... Huggie’s new spokes-sheep: Edie, Sheep Stage Star.), plus, I'm doing everything I can to make sure that she has the best life she possibly can.

“How are you gonna let her go? Won’t you miss her?”

We shan’t be talking of such subjects at this moment...

If you’re in the Connecticut area, come on out to see Edie’s one-time only stage debut! She’s a knock-out! Follow this link to Long Wharf Theater’s website for more information: http://longwharf.org/curse-starving-class

Also check out our interview with the New Haven Independent plus an exclusive look inside our dressing room: http://www.newhavenindependent.org/index.php/archives/entry/this_lamb_has_theater_chops#cmt