Practicing Random Acts Of Kindness,Affirming Prosperity
No-one has ever become poor by giving. ~ Anne Frank
Hello Amazing Person!
You know everything happens for a reason, including finding and reading this letter. This reminder is to let you know that you are so loved and appreciated!
Thank you for being yourself, and not letting others change your mind. Your strength and honesty is recognized by me> many others, too!
The world is a better place because you are in it. Let your inner light shine through in every situation. Know you are loved and protected.
Have faith that where you are now is where you are supposed to be. Dream big, my friend, gigantic, miraculous dreams.
The world needs you!
Keep being awesome!
We love you truly!
The Universe and “Me” Love,Lightand Laughter
You’ve fought the crowds at Wal–Mart and go to the bus stop with your bags, stressed, wondering if you’ll make it through until the next paycheck. As you approach the bench, you see an envelope with hearts drawn everywhere and a handwritten note reading:
“Whoever finds this . . .it’s for you!
Yep,you found it,you are supposed to open it.
As you pick up your envelope, you turn it over and see:
“Open …Read …Keep! Practice random acts of kindness.”
From early childhood I loved writing letters. Considering my father was a proud postal worker (completely opposite of the disgruntled postal worker title)–and from day one taught me how to correctly address an envelope; and the capital of each state. I wrote my first letters very early. A childhood friend told me, as early as three or four years old [I was reading and writing before age 3]; “you used to send me letters and you wrote stories“.
Apparently,they were original stories.It was no surprise when I started school,I would win several writing awards in my lifeandam a published writer,produced playwrightand have professionally written two screenplays.
The other thing I became noted for was my lovely handwriting. I remember the day that happened. Up to the beginning of 5th Grade, my printing and beginning cursive was like any other child of my age.I preferred writing on lined paper to make all my letters the right size. Then, I saw my teachers’ handwriting – it was gorgeous, a thing of beauty. Her name was Anne Rhodes: She was harsh, as a teacher, grumpy. [Ms. Rhodes was the older sister of the Congressman John J. Rhodes]. I asked her how she made her handwriting so beautiful. Ms. Rhodes told me, “You just do it!” I decided I would, from that day forward; my handwriting was neat and has brought me many compliments through my nearly half century on this planet.
Early on, around the age of 10, I was already an avid Anglophile [A person who is fond of or greatly admires England or Britain]. So, I wrote a letter and addressed it to “Any girl between the ages of 8-12 in London, England”; my father mailed it overseas for me. Some weeks later, I received a letter from a girl a year younger, give or take, than me in Skegness, Lincolnshire, England; Joanna Foreman and I wrote, drew pictures and kept in touch until we were in our 20s. We have never met in person. Joanna is now in the South of France, married, a mother and a newscaster. I have tried to get in touch with her to no avail (so far).
When I started doing school and community theatre in my hometown of Phoenix, Arizona; my opening night gifts were usually handwritten notes to my other cast members – telling them how much I enjoyed working with them. I was pen pals with several friends, too. By my mid-20s, though, as we were just getting computers and the basic beginnings of email. . .I got out of the habit of handwriting things. . . true for many of us.
All my life, for the most part, I have been into spiritual studies, everything from the Golden Rule to my first “self-help” book at the age of 15-years-old – Your Erroneous Zone by Dr.Wayne Dyer. Soon after, I moved ontoCreative Visualization by Shakti Gawain; which, for many of us, was our first peek atLaw of Attraction.
Inspired by Oprah Winfrey and hearing her story, a devotee of Law of Attraction (LOA) and thinking about all the miracles I, myself, and others had created in our lives with creative visualization and the new Law of Attraction movement – I started my own LOA Meet-Up Group in Queens, New York. For my birthday in 2007 – three of us, from my LOA Meet-Up Group passed out $5.00 bills [we each donated $100, split into twenty $5.00 bills]. Taking a cue from the homeless who step onto a car and do a spiel about hard times and needing some money to feed their children, or get a meal, etc. We followed that script with a twist.
“Hello, I’m sorry to interrupt you. My name is Angela, life has been good to me. And I here to give everyone on this train [subway] $5.00 to say ‘My life is going great’!”
We had some people who looked at us funny or refused the money, others asked if it was real, and some gladly received the gift! One homeless man kissed the $5.00 bill over and over! Another young college student told me, “I don’t have money for f!!#k!” I handed her the $5.00 bill and said, “Now, you buy some f!#k!” We both had a good laugh. It felt rather incredible!
Which brings me to something I read about recently: It was a post on one of my many LOA Facebook groups – An LOA group. I started my own group – in order to practice the art of tithing (giving):
I took to it immediately and began writing anonymous, handwritten, love letters to strangers! Brilliant! As someone who has felt left-out, depressed and been teased growing up; it certainly was great when someone would encourage me to keep going.
I read the stories, and the main story about the woman who made the news with her love letters to strangers. Yes, in my years, and with all those self-help, spiritual and law of attraction books I have read cover to cover, all these years; I had heard stories of people receiving anonymous letters that changed their outlook; i.e.When Carol Burnett was a young girl, she needed $50.00 to attend an acting class.She worked very hard to earn the money to no avail. Then, she came home one day and found an anonymous envelope in her mailbox; it contained a note and $50.00 for her class.
This was how her career started! The note merely said it was for her class – the exact amount – and stated the belief that Carol would be successful. Carol Burnett never found out who gave her that gift. It could not have been her mother or family, as they did not have the money.
BURNETT: No, I never made up my mind — I never said that to myself, I just wasn’t that interested in, you know — and I always felt there was something that was going to happen. I always — Ivisualized myself in certain places. And, you know, we were poor.
But I always knew something good was going to happen. And one time I visualized myself going to UCLA, which I wanted to do very badly. And we didn’t have the tuition for it, you know. And I had the grades. And the tuition, get this, was $43.
MORGAN: Is that what it was?
BURNETT: Yes. And we were on welfare and so couldn’t do that. And my grandmother wanted me to go to some Woodberry College for secretaries so I could nab the boss.
BURNETT: You know? To her it was get a rich man.
BURNETT: And I said, no, I know I’m going to get — I’m going to get to go to UCLA. And we lived in this one-room apartment off of Hollywood Boulevard, and our door opened into the lobby and I could see the pigeon-hole letter boxes. And this one — and it was my little chore to run out and get the letters if there was one in our slot.
And I — this one morning I came out and saw this letter and then I got it and it was addressed to me.With a $0.03 stamp on it, but it hadn’t been mailed, hadn’t been canceled. An address, typewritten, I opened it up and out came a $50 bill.
To this day, I don’t know where that came from.
BURNETT: We didn’t have the money.
MORGAN: What an extraordinary story.
BURNETT: Yes. It just happened. And that was — that’s how I got to UCLA.
And even when my group gave out the $5.00 bills . . . our intention was to pay it forward, to give to the world to affirm our belief in prosperity.
Thus, when I was reminded of how wonderful it is to give to others with unconditional love, just, if nothing else, to make someone’s day! I wrote some anonymous love letters. I wrote what I felt I would want to hear, what would encourage me. Sure, I borrowed some words from those who had already started this movement, and wrote many of my own. As I heard what many of the love letters were doing – where they would leave these notes, etc. – I went out and left my envelopes on subway seats, bus seats, in trees and shrubs, in bicycle baskets. I did this all around my home – at the time – in Union City, NJ.
Often it impressed me how I found interesting places to put the letters – i.e. in the card slot at a little store on Bergenline Street; the window of one the Jitney vans; on the table inside the post office and among the toiletries in a Duane Reade in Port Authority, New York.
I vowed, in February 2013, to write, at least, one love letter a day for the entire year. Having fallen behind, I now write about seven to fourteen in batches. Now, they are placed in my new neighborhood of Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn, New York and heading into Manhattan and often in Manhattan. Wherever I’m traveling.
My goal is place them without being seen. . .hard in the crowded streets of New York. Still, I manage to do it.
There were a couple of very special moments for me.
In one of my first batches, I was on the A Train returning from a friend’s place in Washington Heights [left several letters in that area, too]. A woman came onto the crowded train and took the only vacant seat beside me. She looked upset, sad and in pain (emotional). My urge was to give her a letter – she, obviously needed some cheering up or an encouraging word. Too embarrassed to just hand it to her [she might think I’m weird], when she was getting off the train – and I still had a few stops to go; as she stood up, I handed her one of my envelopes and said, “I was told to give this to you!”
The woman took the letter, smiled a bit and said “Thank you.”
Also, since February, in several of the letters, to affirm prosperity, I’ve slipped in $1.00 bills. Just a little gift for them; as we all know the little thrill it is finding a dollar on the ground. I have started, also, printing half of the letters – andplacing them near middle schools with $1.00 in them– just in case a child finds them and cannot read cursive yet! Also, with young children, $1.00 is considered an incredible treasure to find!
Finally, I really wanted to see how it affected the finder and reader of these letters. One time, with my friend, Fredy — again, on the A Train going toward Manhattan, from Washington Heights. I place one of the envelopes across from us on the vacant subway car.
As the subway filled up with rushing people, we witnessed this:
A middle-aged man, carrying a backpack, went to sit on the vacant seat with our envelope there, reading: FOR YOU, YES YOU!
He, with a sort of scowl on his face coming into the train, took on a slight smile as he picked up the envelope. Fredy and I tried not to stare, but watched him.
He read the envelope, turned it over a few times, readying “Practice more random acts of kindness”, etc. He carefully opens the envelope – trying not to rip the flap with my words and drawn little hearts – he did a good job.
He unfolded the heart-shaped paper and began reading my lovely cursive; the scowl now turned to a smile and he seemed moved. He stared at the letter a few seconds after reading, turned it over again. He carefully folded it back, as if it was delicate and important to him, and put it back in the envelope. He held tightly to the letter. Then, a few minutes later, he opened it again and re-read it! This time with that happy smile of a person who really needed to hear/see those words. He was moved and it nearly made mecry.
Once again returning it carefully to its envelope, he exited the train, carefully making sure he had the love letter for him!
My friends, it feels good, even just knowing you are making someone’s day. You may change a life or encourage someone to pursue their dreams. You may be a catalyst to someone in the world who needed exactly your words of encouragement, at that exact moment. Everything happens for a reason.
Go ahead; check out my page or the pages below . . . start spreading love to the world, one stranger at a time.You may be the very miracle someone needs. You may save a life, change a life, for the better, comfort a bullied child or adult, help someone get through another hard day.
The truth is clear. The more you give, the more that comes to you. It is the law of nature. What you give out comes back to you tenfold. Oprah has and is giving away millions of dollars, all the time. She is blessed with success all the time. Angelina Jolie, Brad Pitt and Bill Gates are “givers” – money, time and more. They are all millionaires or billionaires.
Whatever you believe, the Universe has blessed these givers with financial security, loving families and joy.
Here are links, once again, to several of the love lettering Facebook pages and websites.
If, by chance, you were in Union City, NJ. . . Manhattan, NY . . . or Washington Heights. . .on the A Train or at Port Authority … or in Brooklyn, NY . . . and have found one of my letters, please, drop me a note here or in one or all of the groups!
At age 10, I was cast as ‘Helen Keller’ in a classroom production of The Miracle Worker; mind you, without an audition– The director, Lisa Lee, a classmate, thought I looked like the real Helen Keller – so now, almost forty years into my theatrical life. What I have learned, in recent years [i.e. the last thirty] – over fifty stage productions to my credit – this business called theatre does attract some real crazies.
Sure, I admit to my foibles, flaws and a touch of narcissism – most actors have that, alongside symptoms of MPD [Multiple Personality Disorder], too many OCD’s (Obsessive/Compulsive Disorder), Tourette Syndrome. Unfortunately, a true sociopath comes along once in a while!
Back in the 1990’s I heard a story about one such psychotic male actor. An actor – by all outward appearances, was a somewhat normal guy [for an actor]; he fell in love or lust for a young actress, in a top acting class, at a popular New York school they both, separately, had auditioned for and been accepted into [this class]. This actor asked the young actress out on a date. She politely turned him down. All seemed well as they worked together as scene partners. After awhile, the actor began to pester the young actress to go on a date with him. She asked him to stop bothering her about it . . . numerous times . . . until finally, she had to be very firm. The actor did not return to class for weeks. One fateful day, as the young actress entered the classroom, an envelope was waiting for her, and she was told it was left … by the actor. Inside the envelope she found a marriage license — for her and the actor! The sociopath actor had gone to the courthouse, applied for a marriage license and forged the young actresses’ signature!!!
She called the police and had to place a restraining order on him.
What is it with people? Why do certain groups attract certain people?
In my case, I have attracted them in theatre and mostly, via my admiration for a certain celebrity.
I’ll begin with the fans; although, my goal is to share my most recent situation – a theatre stalker.
It sort of goes hand in hand . . .
As a long-time fan of Tim Curry, my relationship with his fans has been, most of the time, like living in a mental ward of disorders. I’ve met obsessive, compulsive, manic and delusional fans.
DISCLAIMER: I have also met some of my best friends directly through my love, lust and admiration for TC.
Am I one of those mentally disturbed fans, too? Certainly I was, and still am, rather obsessive, yes [about a lot of things and people: Tim Curry, Alan Rickman, Broadway Musicals (especially “Wicked”), clean bathrooms (have a phobia of public bathrooms that are not pristine) and NYC] . . . although, I am not any more obsessed with Tim Curry (TC) than 100s of other TC fans I’ve met.
In fact, let’s get real, some of them far more bizarre than I could ever be!
Since my obsession began, in 1983, I have been lied to, lied about, accused, followed and stalked by TC fans, themselves. What was always funny [odd] to me was the fans who accuse me most of being a stalker are the ones stalking me! When I point out the fact they are stalking . . . bullying . . . and attacking me, they; like all people who victimize others, try to convince me how they are justified in their mistreatment of me; victimizing me once again.
First, let me say, if I’m stalking Tim Curry…I am the laziest one ever! I live 3000 miles from where TC lives . . .have missed seeing him dozens of times [when we were in the same city], have never been to his home, nor dug through his garbage [that was a completely different fan – definitely NOT me].
I have a germ phobia, thus, dumpster diving or even keeping, touching or saving used garbage [even if it was TCs], is out of the question for me!
I once lived only three hours away (from NYC), when TC was doing, Spamalot, on Broadway. On a one-day visit to NYC, I actually turned down a ticket to see the show because, a) I was with friends, in NYC, and there was only one ticket available, and b) I didn’t want to see him at that time. TC was one block away from me, and I did not even attempt to see him! How is that stalking?
If someone told me, this minute, TC was down the block from me, I would not go see him. You see, I’m here, at home, with no make-up on, and need a shower, a weight loss of about 50 lbs [if I had my preference] and my eyebrows waxed. I have absolutely nothing to wear today, and don’t feel like taking a shower or putting on make-up.
Thus, at best, I am a lazy stalker. I just don’t want to have to go out of my way to find him, see him or whatever. Now, if Tim Curry wanted to call me, I’d be happy to chat on the phone. That said, if I don’t recognize a number, I would never answer! So, probably wouldn’t even chat with him, unless he left a voice-mail and said who it was.
Thus, before accusing me of stalking, you need to check your facts – and laws – about what exactly stalking is.
A stalker will:
1) Continue to contact a person who has told the stalker to STOP [contacting] the victim.
FACT: Tim Curry has NEVER told me to stop being his fan . . . buying tickets to his shows . . . writing him the occasional letter . . . seeing him when I do.
In fact, has always been accepting and seems to enjoy seeing me!
2) Puts forward false and negative words toward the victim, often falsely attributing acts and words to the person they are stalking.
FACT: This is called SLANDER.
FACT: The words I attribute to TC are positive, funny and do not hurt or slander him.
3) Bullies the victim they’ve chosen to stalk.
You are a stalker:
When a person [themselves—not his or her fans] tells you NO or LEAVE ME ALONE, and you feel the person “doesn’t mean it” or you decide to “do it anyway”. It is a crime and makes you a stalker!
If you are sending email and letters telling your victim, “You’re worthless . . lazy . . .ugly . . .a stalker . . . dangerous . . . a threat [to TC] or others . . . undeserving” – particularly, when this person 1) does not contact you, 2) has never done anything, at all, to you and 3) doesn’t bother you . . . makes YOU a STALKER and a BULLY!
If you CLAIM to have been told by the person [them self] that they “hate” or have a “problem” with a said fan [me]. I am sure putting words into someone’s mouth would upset the person. It is also hearsay.
Someone (a so-called fan) did have the nerve to tell another fan – not me, mind you – that Tim Curry told her that he “hates” me and that I am to “be avoided” and I am “dangerous”.
>> First off all: If it were true [that TC felt that way about me, or anyone]. The person who made him feel that way would have been arrested whenever near him.
>> Despite rumors about me. I have never been arrested nor served a restraining order, or any other legal document from legal representatives, police officers nor Tim Curry or about Tim Curry. None.
>> If you care to check it out. All things, such as restraining orders, court appearances and arrests are public domain. As long as you know someone’s full legal name you can, with the right inquiry, do background check and find all records of public domain. It costs about $25 to $100 on places such as http://www.spokeo.com and other background check websites.
>> I say this because 1) I have nothing to hide, 2) my record [at least, regarding TC and stalking] is completely clean because I DON’T DO THAT!
You are a stalker:
If you go public on your Facebook wall . . . send emails [see above] . . . comment on websites (i.e. YouTube, WordPress) and telling the victim how terrible you, in your opinion and insight, feel this person is; making yourself the security guard, police officer for some celebrity you do not know personally and/or the therapist of the person you are bullying.
Yet, you do not hold a degree; and if you do, you are NOT treating me.
It is not you job!
FACT: This is also a hate crime!
As for me and what I do:
TC has no Facebook account – no matter how convincing you think someone is with so-called facts about him.
Stalkers are negative and also say negative things – being a fan who may or may not be obsessed is notthe same as being a stalker.
Remember, a stalker is a criminal – he or she does NEGATIVE things to possess or own someone, control the other person.
What this article was sparked by is, recently:
I have a bully and stalker – it is one person who I met through theatre – and recently [January 2012] ended the friendship because he posted negative things, and gave out personal info about my life on Facebook . . . with my full name attached!
I have been slandered, victimized, attacked and accused of things I have never done, a) vilified for living my life in a way I choose, b) continually being contacted by him [my stalker/bully] when 1) he asked me to cease contact with him [after I had told him off in a few private emails] and 2) I had stopped contacting him after he asked me not to.
From the end of January 2012 until about the end of April 2012 . . . I had not responded to his incessant, harassing and bullying emails. I have blocked him from several email accounts and then, in a month or two, he creates a new account (with a fake name) and contacts me again – with some negative response to something I posted on Facebook!
Yes, he is blocked on my Facebook . . . yet, somehow, via a fake name and Facebook account, is continuing to read my status updates, etc. And no, I won’t go private or change my Facebook accounts! It is unfair.
I should not have to hide from some fool; who has too much time on his hands and feels a need to harass me or verbally attack me about my life and my choices.
I unfriended and blocked him because my life so offends him. So, why does he need, or want to keep in touch with me. It makes no logical sense.
And there’s my point. There are mentally ill people out there. Unfortunately, because I spent five-minutes to be kind to him – when he was Stage Manager of a play I was cast in [once again, without an audition]. He took my good manners to mean we were close friends. We weren’t. I never felt any sort a rapport with this guy – let’s call him PT – he is, admittedly, very weird and cruel. He is not that type of guy who should use that sort of humor — sarcasm. At least, not the type he uses. Cruel, vicious verbal attacks on people . . . for things like begin fat, short or not as educated.
Don’t get me wrong, I love a good wit. I can throw out the sarcasm along with the best of them. Nevertheless, I won’t put down a person about weight, or a flaw they cannot help. Unless they attack me first.
Yet, this guy – PT – would, publicly, on my Facebook wall, say that I was fat and lazy. Yes, it’s true I am fat. Lazy, no. And yet, he was claiming to be a friend. He became offended when I wouldn’t take jobs such as caring for an elderly man in another state! A job I do not qualify for – bad back, bad knees (that’s me) – and PT thinks I should just commute four days per week on a bus; be ready to lift, walk and give injections, change bed pans, etc. for an elderly man because he gave me the lead!
PT never bothered to ask for my office resume. The one that shows my twenty-years of being an Administrative Assistant and Legal Secretary, light Bookkeeper for financial companies, CEO’s and high-class lawyers! I’m no LPN or home care giver!
There’s an old saying: Until you have walked a mile in my shoes, do not judge me.
To ask for help – especially in a social network – in a way where you are willing to trade; i.e. I will give you a free reading for help with my rent. That is not PANHANDLING. That is NOT be lazy.
>> Yes, many people have some sense of pride, that it lowers them to ask for help when needed. I know people who have not asked for help. I have nice memories of those people when I visit their graves, too. For years, I ignored pain (as a teen and young adult) associated with my abdomen, because “no one likes a complainer”. And guess what? I nearly died at the age of 20-years-old because my ovarian cyst (of which I was unaware of having) ruptured and shot poison throughout my organs.
I learned then and there – if you need help ask.
Other times, when I tell people about the years I was homeless, ask me, “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve helped you.”
Friends get angry when they find out you didn’t reach out and ask for help. People want to help. At least, real friends do. I feel the same way. Ask! Even if, at the time, I cannot help you – I will 1) try to find you help, 2) help when and where I can and 3) encourage you through the hard times (giving what I can in that sense).
If you don’t ask, I don’t always know. They pride goeth before a fall! And I have seen, first-hand, pride kill people. Yes, kill them. To not complain (or tell/ask someone) about pain for months or years, strange menstrual cycles or difficulties living in safe places – or the money to visit a doctor, pay rent or electric or get medication – can kill you.
Of course, do not start sending me notes about what I can give you. I am still living paycheck to paycheck and haven’t quite got my first million yet. When I do . . . we’ll chat!
And as for my stalker/bully – When I started my job, about five weeks ago, I saw his Facebook page [via my contacts] and he had SHARED my status from my Facebook page and posted, about me now working fulltime, “I don’t believe it!”
>> Good! I told PT to stay out of my life. So far, since then, he has . . .
Which reminds me:
You’re a stalker if:
You turn a person’s words around and make it about them. It’s downright psychotic!
>> When I did respond to PT: I stated that I wished he’d just “go away” and frustrated at his continual abuse of me in email, I said: “I hope you die.” He turned that into me “threatening to kill” him! Which I did not, in any way, say; I said “I wish you were dead.” And wishing him to die is not threatening to make it happen.
>> First, I don’t want to jail for his ugly ass.
>> I am not a criminal in any way.
I may be a bitch and a lot of other dirty names. I am not a criminal, a stalker, a killer nor as crazy as many like to say. I’m angry, at times . . . I’m frustrated, at times . . . I’m independent, all the time . . . I can be cruel and cold, when pushed and it is needed. And only to those who treat me badly.
Let’s get the facts:
No, it wasn’t nice to say – yet, I do not take it back. I do wish he’d go away forever; at least, from my life. And from his history with me in these past few months, the only way – he’d have to be dead.
I did NOT say I wanted any part of his death. I just hope it happens. Sometimes with crazy stalkers you have to be blunt and very, very cruel. That seems the only time they actually “hear” your words, I find.
I told him, several hundred times, “leave me alone” and he doesn’t. So, obviously, he ignores those clear words I have to be blunt.
To “hope” someone dies [i.e. I wish all the terrorists would die – without taking any of us – too, I might add] is not saying you want any part of their death. I did not say murder, or by my hand or even that it has to be violent.
In fact, again, my hope, really, is to NEVER HEAR FROM HIM OR ABOUT HIM AGAIN. I do not need to know if he is alive or dead. Prosperous or poor. Good or bad. I just want him gone – from my email, my life in every way, forever.
In the final analysis, and facts about me:
I am a great friend to have.
I feel the homeless who sing, write poetry or offer to do something for your change are NOT panhandling. They are exchanging talents for pay; and if someone would pay them for it, they’d do it in better clothing or atmosphere.
If you make me an enemy, the worst that can happen: I feel nothing for you and if you bother me, I will say cruel things.
I adore Tim Curry and would not hurt him in any way. In fact, I admire him greatly, and if he said to me – himself – to go away, I would [go away] with no anger; only hurt. I’d cry and move on with my life.
I am not lazy. I work very hard. [Right now, three jobs!]
In the final thought, regarding PT – the one who stalks/bully’s me:
>> I have no feelings for him, it is indifference. Thus, I really don’t care if he lives, dies or a thousand purple monkeys’ fly out of his ass.
Onward to better things. . .
Life is going well.
I have three great jobs!
Money flows and flows!
I am now able to pay some bills, travel and enjoy my summer more!
This is a quickie to share some of my favorite YouTube videos: Videos I made myself . . . with CyberDirector or Windows Movie Maker.
This one was just so much fun! I try to attend the Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS Flea Market & Grand Auction. Last year, 2010, I found a fun table for an Off Broadway play titled, Tales From The Tunnel.
I end up winning tickets to the play. I was happy to learn Wilson Jermaine Heredia, he played ‘Angel’ in the Broadway show and movie, Rent! At the play, he gave me a huge hug!!! What a great guy. In March 2011, I saw Wilson again on Broadway, this time, in La Cage Aux Folles. It was so much fun to see him again, at the stage door, we were like old friends!
A Rocky Horror Picture Show fan club asked for a 30 to 60 second video about “What Rocky Horror Means To You”. I found I couldn’t get it to 60 and say all I wanted. So, I videotaped a lot more — finally made a short version — then used the footage for this.
It has been years since I put on ‘Frank N. Furter’ make-up, so I really don’t have enough of the right colors left. Still, I guess a decent job with what make-up I actually have. And my collection of Tim Curry collectibles.
When I first posted this, in 2007, it was clearer [as in video quality]. Hopefully, in storage, the original is still clear and I can re-make it with updates! Yes, I still want to portray ‘Elphaba’ in the Broadway musical, Wicked. Nevertheless, it’s 99% positive I will not in this lifetime. I am more suited now to the role of ‘Madame Morrible’. And I will play it proudly should the opportunity present itself!!!
I did, of course, portray my dream role at a Halloween party or two. The photo is from 2009 at the Manhattan Theatre Source Halloween gathering. And who knows, this year, I may done my green make-up again at a certain Halloween party.
Now, this production of a play is important to me. It was so exciting to see my friend (ex-boyfriend)’s story up on stage. It was moving and my reviews were fabulous. Even though, some facts were messed up in the final production — I want to make a true documentary on Fredy Adolfo Gonzalez De Leon as he still deals with homelessness, citizenship and now communicating with his son, Juan Miguel in Guatemala.
As I write this, Fredy lives in a shelter in the Bronx. Although, he enjoys it there. He awaits his status from our government on his citizenship. Nevertheless, he is unable to earn money or fend for himself. Sort of sad, really.
For now, I will close with another video about my work . . . and do another one of these soon, with more videos!
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