Do We Do it For Love...For Love of What?
My childhood being of the looney, spirit-crushing variety, I'm wondering if this made me a prime candidate for the Arts? I like to think I had a special talent that could not be denied! (No, I don't want to write a play right now, I want to bake brownies. GO AWAY!) Do I need to be noticed or do I need to have my characters imbue an audience with the truth? My truth. MINE! I haven't made that many sacrifices for my art. I always made sure I was sheltered and fed. That came first. I have watched the failure of people with greater talent than mine, who simply didn't have the mind to handle the business. I think of T. who had written a play so great the off-off Broadway audience was on its feet roaring every night. We wanted to move it on with bigger productions. He wanted to just tweak it a little and we never heard of him or the play again. I know how to dress and smile and shake hands. What in flaming Hell has that got to do with Art, except to sell it. But back in the day I was told that I was talented but they needed a gay or Hispanic woman. Changing my name to Tank Rodriguez would not be enough. Writing a masterpiece would not be enough. Needing it with ever fiber of your being...loving every moment of it...would not be enough. What I did for love gets superseded by what I did to pay the rent.