Ann Randolph and the Bitch

AnnRandolph3Ann Randolph is a storyteller/performer from LA. She’s got the courage to get on stage and not be pretty, which makes me want to fall down and kiss her feet—I am so sick of watching women on stage in pretty dresses crooning pretty songs with pretty guitar chords, trying desperately to be sweet and inoffensive. Ann does real, and it isn’t always pretty. Just wearing those camel-toe pants on stage is an act of supreme chutzpah. Her stuff is definitely adult content, which is a rare enough thing for family-friendly Cortes Island to get me excited. When I saw Ann’s show, Loveland, last summer, I laughed so hard I just about strangled. And then of course, I cried. I was torn by envy and awe. Ann will perform her new show, Squeeze Box, at Mansons Hall this Saturday.

Last summer I was registered for Ann Randolph’s program at Hollyhock called “Writing Your Life for the Page and Stage”, but I got bumped at the last minute. I was severely pissed off, and briefly considered doing a volunteer stint at Esalen in California just to get to study with her. But then I realized that Esalen is like Hollyhock on steroids (aka New Age Disneyland), and would probably make me nuts. So I vowed to let it go for the moment, and finagle my way into her course this season. And behold! The Universe smiles. I have landed a comp slot, and the program starts tonight. I am severely stoked.

The timing is good, as I’ve been in a bit of a stuck spot. I’ve written a few things for Bicycle Buddha and Non-Moms.com in the past few weeks but they have sputtered and seemed so lame to me that i haven’t posted them. I know lameness is no excuse. Still, I try to be gentle with myself, knowing that commitment is a process of perpetual self-forgiveness. I’ll get my mojo back. But in the meantime there is that gnawing in the pit of my stomach, that wanting to write. The bitch called Resistance is sitting on my shoulders, taunting me and distracting me from doing what I know I really really want to do more than anything: tell my stories.

But for the next five days, I will be doing what I really want to do. Immersing myself in the medicine. Hoping this course will shake me loose a little, and at least for the time being, may throw that Resistance bitch off my back.

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