Calling Actors, My Fans & Writers: An Interactive Site

Beckinfield: For Writers, Video Enthusiasts & Actors

BECKINFIELD is a really fun interactive, fictional town!

Click Here For More

People like uswriters and actorscreate townsfolk and Jonathan Frakes, and the participants, create the life there. There is also a contest to win a trip to Hollywood and $10,000. Finalists in the contest, also get $200 each.

Of course, I’ve entered it and would love you all to look at my entryan acting audition. It will be judged by a Casting Director, nevertheless, they are also looking at how many people give it stars “raving” (1 to 5 stars). The first one is my favorite audition I did. You don’t have to participate to give stars, either. You can join as afanand just watch the videos. The 2nd link is my character in BeckinfieldSamantha Talbott: Beckinfield High School Drama Teacher/Psychic/Medium (yeah, not too far from the real me).

If you’d like to participate and interactwe can interlace our charactersyou can join as an “actor”. Either way, I wanted to share this fun site — and hopefully get some “raves” for my audition. It is fun creating the story, it’s good practice.

http://www.theatrics.com/beckinfield/contest/auditionslist/p/1/video/5830

http://www.theatrics.com/beckinfield/actor/index

Love, Light & Laughter,

 Angela Theresa

God’s Unconditional Love And Its Conditions

VISIONS: A Psychic/Medium Views on Organized Religion

By Angela Theresa Egic

I believe in the Bible . . . I believe it was written by men who had low opinions of women (most of them), nearly 100 years after Jesus walked around and said incredible things . . . I believe the stories were worded by the authors, to express their bias opinion, most of the time. In short, how they interpreted the words of a man some 100-years passed on and his words handed down from mouth to mouth to mouth. I know God/Source didn’t write it. Sure it’s in-spired! BUT, so is every book written before, during or after the time of the many scrolls of the Bible!

And, yes, there are incredible things in the Bible (and other books) — which probably should be heeded, are comforting and are good rules to live by. Yet, the Bible still allows that if a woman marries and she is found to not be a virgin, she can be stoned to death. A man, on the other hand, by Bible rules, has all the rights.

I also like to quote and sometimes try to live by the words and examples of Dr. Wayne Dyer, Doreen Virtue, Goethe, Shakespeare, some of the men in the Bible, Sylvia Browne and Julia Cameron, my mother, my father. Number one, though, I live by the beliefs and values of myself. I have valid points.

Nevertheless, I do not agree with every single word that came from my mother, Dr. Wayne Dyer or any of my guru’s. They, too, have opinions of which I do not agree. Many I do.

I have strong feelings about religion, the dogma – I enjoy some ritual(s) and/or rites developed by the churches and/or other spiritual practices and religions; some are valid for me and some is just not my cup of tea; because I can think. Much of it is ridiculous to an intelligent mind.

As much as I believe in a Higher Power, which is not some man in the sky…I know we are part of it; in fact, we are it — along with the plants, animals, soul strength and every other living source or being on the earth, and beyond the earth. Yes, we are G.O.D.; we are of the energy that surrounds the Universe.

One of my guru’s gave me the greatest explanation:

G.O.D., the Universe, Source is a beautiful cloud; then, when we incarnate, we are the drops of rain and pieces of cloud that come down here to experience physical life. We are the bravest souls! Truly, living a life incarnate where there is pain, horror, judgment and illness is a brave adventure for any soul to take on!

The only true judgment, of course, is when we crossover and we, our self, review our lifetime. I often say that hell is living here, on earth, and having to put up with the proselytizing groups trying to save my soul! If heaven is filled with these pests, I’d rather be in hell with the fun people!

My relatives, strangers and friends – of the dogmatic sects of Christianity; including my own mother – have verbally attacked me, argued and mostly judged me: I suspect, they feel they must “spread the Gospel” according to their standard and make me comply. Otherwise, they have not done their job to raise me, teach me and guide me to be a docile follower such as they are!

No, thank you!

Why I’m always amazed at the closed-minded fundamentalist’s attitudes of my very family? I’ve seen those very beliefs drive people to depression, suicide, mental illness and unhappy lives. When I was a Sunday School teacher, I became a very depressed, anorexic mess who nearly died at the age of 20-years-old!

If it’s a sin to be who you really are – faggot, dyke, single, slutty, childless, and psychic, actor, musician, and artist – then, let me be the sinner! As long as I can be who I am, then, fuck anyone who wants to tell me different. As long as my actions do not break the laws of the lands [murder, embezzlement, rape, robbery, abuse]; well, who are you, or them, to judge?

As the song in the musical, Rent tells us, “It’s between God and me!”

The proselytizing assholes in the tunnel at Port Authority, spouting their fire and brimstone, how we are all such vile sinners; drawings of people with bandages on every limb, walking with crutches to illustrate how not following “their way” leads to dis-ease, abuse and plague upon your very body – make me want to beat some sense into them! Their promises are not very inviting … if this “God” they’re selling me is going to do that to me for not following, or questioning; well, he’s a fucking bully!!! I don’t give in to bully’s!

Now, my proselytizing relatives . . . they’re of the sect that leaves no room for psychic gifts, those who speak to the dead or angels, at least, those of us who hear them! Yes, I have relatives who are exceptions to the rule; yet, we probably fit on one hand. Most of my relatives are “God-fearing”. I have never, nor ever will, understand being afraid of an unconditional loving source. If He, it or they love us unconditionally, why should we “fear” them! I fear living human beings with knives, guns and an agenda of war, forcing change and judging us who are different. Even my relatives who think it is their job to “save me.” When such zealous types get too much into religion, and they feel one is a sinner, they often feel justified in destroying the sinner’s physical body to save their soul.

My relatives may not murder me, yet, similar to the zealots who shoot doctors who perform abortions – claiming it was God who told them they could because they are “saving lives”, when really they took a life that had been here for 30 to 80-years and not a few weeks in the womb – Bible-thumpers — who are usually men – and think, once again, it is their right to put their finger, or other parts, in my vagina and in those of all other women; I know I want no part of such closed-minded, single-minded, stupid nonsense.     My relatives, and others, seem to want to kill my joy, murder my spirituality and call it sin – when it hurt no human or animal, it brings joy and guidance to millions. My gifts and my beliefs are for all…unconditional, safe and non-judgmental. We don’t proselytize, force or threaten you with fire, brimstone, stoning, hatred, anger for not complying with our ways. We guide, love you and let you choose your path. We don’t sick Satan on you or dis-ease. We enlighten, we guide if asked. Unlike those who want to call me “mislead” or “sinner” or “wrong” or “damned.”

So be it, then, my cousins and aunts, and uncles – then, all right I am damned. I will be in hell with all the Broadway stars, the gifted healers, psychics, mediums; pets – the homosexuals, the transgendered, the party-singles, the sexually fun, all the entertainers – bound to be fun!

In case, it wasn’t clear, hell doesn’t exist, either. This punishment my family fears doesn’t exist, anyway, not like they talk. Hell is here, a hell we chose – brave souls being inside a human body that can feel pain, emotion, physical and mental pain.

Death is not punishment, it is freedom! The soul is free, once again. It’s beautiful! I speak from experience, too! I had a near-death experience when I was 15-years-old. It is not, at all, what religious groups think it is – a punishment; it is a gift to return to our true essence.

We all go there! At least, if we do not purposely hurt others and are generally doing the best we know. For those who do purposely hurt others – as in murderers, rapists, embezzlers and perhaps those trying to force their beliefs on us – they do get judged, they judge themselves; with a group of souls who want to help.

Enlightened souls, us who are true to who we are in this life, get choices – we can come back here, if we choose or learn more. That’s heaven, having a choice. Hell is not having a choice of whether to come back here – to live in a human body; lower souls, who hurt others on purpose, have to come back. They get no choice. Which, all right…yes. Hell.

To my relatives, friends and those who wish to judge me. Keep it to yourself! Say no prayers for me, as I don’t need those types of prayers.

If you pray for me . . . you are welcome to pray for me to have abundance, love, light and joy in my life. Pray for me and all others to be able to freely be who we are, all the time, without judgment, without hatred, without prejudice from you or others.

Otherwise, say no prayers for me. My soul is saved, by me . . . and the angels, guides, saints, the Gods, Buddha, Allah, Jesus, the Powers-That-Be, Source, those who have passed-on, unconditional love and self-love (confidence).

As for what I am: I am spiritual, I am Christian, I am Atheist, I am Buddhist, , I am Jewish, I am Islamic, I am Muslim, I am Gay, I am Straight, I am Transgendered, I am Woman, I am Man, I am me, I am, I am God, I am Jesus, I am the Chosen One, I am a Psychic, I am a Medium, I am alone, I am you, I am all that is, I am the wind, I am the water, I am them, I am us, I am an actor, I am a singer, I am the animals . . . and I am all of that and none of those!

I just am!

BOOK YOUR READING: Psychic/Medium, Angela Theresa

Hello my friends . . .

Book your readings today . . . there’s so much to learn:

Curry Chronicles: You Must Be His Daughter–Part I

DISCLAIMER: These are my experiences, shared by me, as they happened to me. People in these true event(s), may not remember them in the same way. Certain facts can be agreed upon by all parties, nevertheless. I met Tim Curry, in New York, on August 28, 1987. Beyond that, I do not, in any way, suggest, hold or express that anyone else experienced this event in any paranormal, psychic or unusual way. That is how my experience of the event(s) happened, though.

YOU MUST BE HIS DAUGHTER

By Angela Theresa Egic

 It was getting very near the time I would finally meet the man!

 I saw signs where everywhere. Many were almost too literal.

Everywhere I went I could feel Tim near me, around me. I would ‘just know’ he was in New York.

A day or two later, I’d read in the gossip column that Tim Curry was seen in New York, on the very day I thought he was nearby!

This feeling of knowing Tim was nearby began when Clue was released. I had missed TC by one day. I went to the theater the day before the movie opened to the public; they had the premiere (for the actors) the day before that, nevertheless.

I was getting closer to meeting the man, though, admittedly.

My life was about to be forever changed, though:

A little overview:

On September 28, 1984I turned 21-years-old. I had barely survived anorexia, had a boyfriend away in college in somewhere near Flagstaff, AZ; was living with Mom & Dad in Phoenix, AZ. Before the anorexia got the best of me, I had applied for and auditioned for NY’s American Academy of Dramatic Arts. The audition was held right there in Phoenix.

October 4, 1984: I took my first airplane ride and arrived in New York City, for the first time in my life. Had a job at Macy’s in three days and began school at AADA.

In about 1985: I left AADA and moved to Brooklyn with my friend, Betsy.

One day, I called home to Phoenix. My father answered the phone. He was not the most observant or demonstrative man.

I said, “Hey Dad, remember me?”

My father grumbled, as usual, “Of course, Little One [he always called me this]!”

Absent-mindedly, I replied, “So, no one is home?”

My father, a man of 71-years-old [17 years my mother’s senior], was not terribly reliable about taking messages. Thus, if he was there and answered the phone, he’d surely forget I had called by the time Mom returned from her errands.

Dad, rather defensively, told me, “I’m home, I’m somebody!”

Laughing, “Oh, I know, Daddy. I didn’t mean it that way.”

Then he really shocked me, “You know, I saw that actor you like on television. Is he British? Tim …something?”

I was pleasantly surprised that my rather aloof father would even notice my obsessions, especially from three thousand miles away!

Excited and happy, I asked him, “You mean, Tim Curry?”

Yes, he was on TV. I like him! Have you met him yet?”

I told Daddy that I hadn’t, but hoped to someday. Dad gave me his blessing. That was a lot for my father and made me happy.

Late 1986: My father had cancer surgery, went into a coma and was declared dead. My mother and I, after five neurosurgeons reported he was brain-dead, opted to turn off life support.

My father breathed on his own for three months, then passed away, in Arizona, on February 4, 1987. The same day Liberace passed on. My father’s spirit came to me, all the way in NY, the night he passed and he told me goodbye.

Right before my father passed, my Uncle Curly, Mom’s brother, [the uncle that Tim Curry resembled in Clue. Yikes!], passed away. After my father, my Mom’s sister, Aunt Mary Margaret, passed on. My poor mother lost her brother, her husband and her sister all within a few months of each other. Rough year.

In New York, my Rocky Horror Picture Show midnight friends/cast and I were still going strong, doing our shadowcast show in Brooklyn each Saturday. We called ourselves The Low Down Cheap Little Punks. I played Frank N. Furter and getting great reviews.

Our friend in the cast, Susie “Squeaky” Schwartzberg, 19-years-old, was, like my father, battling cancera malignant tumor under her eye.

While I sought my meeting with TC, Susie and her family were trying to contact her obsession; Christopher “Superman” Reeves. [This was before his tragic accident.]

I had seen a psychic at a psychic fair (duh) and the minute I brought up TC– she said “Yes, you will see him soon!”

I didn’t even tell her his last name. When I did tell her — she had never heard of him!

As the reading went on, she said I’d meet him at a place with the initials MM – my first thought was the Mid-Manhattan Library. I worked near it and Tim is known for his keen interest in literature.

I, naturally, spent a lot more time at the Mid-Manhattan Library. I spent some time there, anyway, as I love books, too.

In the meantime, I listened in my head and my body for that vibration that let me know, rather accurately, when TC was nearby.

The psychic also said, “TC is just a breath away, just turn around and he will be there.”

I was walking my regular route home from work, towards Times Square, and my usual hang-out, The Marriott Marquis. Wait one minute! Hitting me, like a ton of bricks. I hung out at the Marriott Marquis, a lotthat has the initials MM!

I became aware of TC being nearby, just then, and rememberedjust a breath away, turn around and he will be there.”

At a ‘Don’t Walk’ signal, I turned around slowly.

There! In bright red letters:

CURRY IN A HURRY

When did that restaurant get there? I walk here every day and have never seen this restaurant, and there it was!

Nearly out loud, I talked to TC telepathically, “Very funny! If I am going to meet you, tell me when, please!”

The numbers 23 and 24 came into my head. This was June or July 1987.

I almost instantly understood: I will meet TC while I am still 23-years-old and nearly 24.

My 24th birthday was coming up, too, September 28th, 1987.

At the Times Square area, I was passing 1515 Broadway on the corner of 44th, a block before the Marriott Marquis [the Broadway show Me & My Girl was playing at the Marriott Marquis Theater].

Inside the big glass windows of 1515 Broadway, you can see the escalators to what I believed to be a movie theater.

I was still feeling TC in the area and wanted to test my intuition, see if I could actually track him down this time! As I stepped in front of those glass doors this very overwhelming thought to go up the stairs made me stop and stare at the plate-glass doors of 1515 Broadway.

I argued, in my silent voice, with this thought. I figured it was from TC. “But, Tim, I don’t want to go to a movie!”

The thought was even stronger, almost pulling me to the entrance turnstile doors. The number three (3) invaded my thoughts as well – theater number three? After about twenty minutes, I forced myself to walk away and go home, without ever following my gut feeling to enter 1515 Broadway and head to Theater 3.

At home, my TC picture fell off my desk.  I cried out, “I just need to meet him!”

I talked to my father, my God and TC in my prayers. I asked God and Daddy to help me meet Tim. And I asked Tim, since I didn’t understand these signs, to show me, in my dreams, where he is exactly!

I cried myself to sleep with these thoughts and prayers — to meet the only person I had ever felt such an intense spiritual connection to. I no longer believed it was just attraction.

TC reminded me of something deep in my soul . . . a soul mate, yes, but more than that! A long-lost love, friend, brother, father, a voice in my very soul, a guide, a comfort and the spirit which accompanied me through lifetime after lifetime in so many ways. Crazy maybe, certainly it couldn’t hurt to meet him, to befriend him or to date him.

For Those Who Knew Glenn Herndon

Funeral arrangements (from Rodney Herndon):

Saturday, July 17th, 2010
Wake at 11 a.m.
Funeral at 12 p.m.
Repast at 2 p.m.

Macedonia Baptist Church
141 South Ninth Avenue
Mount Vernon, NY 105504

If anyone in the New York City area is driving there, please contact me: We can, perhaps, share the ride?