This is how The Great Lakes got YOU!

From The SM Cabaret: Slaves of Sallie Mae


For more information about The SM Cabaret please visit our SM Cabaret page.

If you’d like to check out a review of the  show visit Woman Around Town.

Stay tuned!  /


What art we to do with tears?


You enter the train car, you are trapped with a few or many lives for a stop, or two or three. For your entire ride, for half of it.

Some are laughing, some are reading, some are quiet, some just hide behind their headphones.

Sometimes you are alone, sometimes with friends.

Sometimes you are one, sometimes you are the other.

Sometimes you cry.

Sometimes somebody else cries.

And while the tears invade and sink the car, everyone else goes on and on. Just like when somebody laughs, or somebody reads, or somebody hides behind their headphones. But what else art we to do?

As I know not how long this ride will last, I listen, I observe, the figure wrapped in dark clothes and dark energies, overcome by a sadness unbearable to witness.

I have an impulse. But I stop myself. People come and go between stops, quiet, laughing, playing games. I need this figure to know that they are a being, that I am a being, that we feel.

Finally we are leaving the island, meaning will be under water for a bit of time, 2 more stops for me.

I come close, I offer my water, I get rejected. I say very softly “I respect your sadness, and I hope that whatever happens next things get better for you.”

Although I spoke softly,there was a change in the car. There was a moment of silence, of acknowledgement of this person’s tears and sadness. I understood that while everybody seemed to not notice, everybody was aware. And for those few seconds, the sadness was honored by everybody.

Do we ignore one another’s feelings because_______________________?

My stop arrived and I leaned to hand the water bottle to the person. They looked up and a slight smile of gratitude showed on their face. I felt sad, but I was satisfied to have moved them if a little.

I don’t write this to show-off or self-affirm that I am a good thoughtful empathic person. I am probably just as ruined as everyone else can get through experiencing the world and experiencing the daily scenes of NYC. But I have been that person. In tears throughout a one hour ride, hoping I will just be ignored by those around me, hoping I am not making anybody uncomfortable, hoping that nobody will notice. But also wondering, how come nobody cares enough to approach me.

I know that our culture has taught us to be afraid of each other no matter the circumstances. We can’t think of helping without thinking we might put ourselves at risk. Furthermore, what this scene made me think of is the state of the world, and how we stand before it. If we can’t be moved by what lies right in front, why do we care to see the horrible headlines that bombard us day-to-day? What is the point of knowing if we can’t connect to our knowledge? Ranciere says that “it isn’t obviously the case that knowledge of a situation entails a desire to change it.” So what do we do with our knowledge? with our awareness? We build substantial conversations, we write books, we create academic programs, fill libraries and databases. But if it isn’t obviously the case, then what art we to do? How could we do it?

Tears, basic humanity. And we are yet to get used to blood I suppose.

For those supporters of a cause, I suggest we create, and danse.




It is, but it shouldn’t be.

It is, but it shouldn’t be.

The way of the world.

There must be a list somewhere.

Somewhere where all our thoughts collide, where our reason has seen.

Why do

so many







And somewhere everywhere we just sit on them.

Do nothing,

go on with what is

although it shouldn’t be.


we do something


we start something


we imagine something

But who are we?

We, us, who care

We, us, who see

We, us, who do

who start

who imagine

Who are we?

Because we are not everybody, although we should be.

It is, but it shouldn’t be.

I don’t want to sit

and just partake on what is.

I want to imagine,

to start,

to do something,

to re-humanize this world.

But, since, how, should?

It is too complex

to even begin to think

of what would be

the ideal becoming of the world,


to even think of why should it matter

to me

to everybody,


to think whether is worth it to think so much

to have the blurred clarity of all which is so evidently wrong.

As my next impulse becomes to start a list of all which is but shouldn’t be,

I am a coward.


November 21st, Indiegogo Campaign–2/x/5070564

November 21, 2013. A day that will live in infamy. Why you ask? The grace period for student loans is over. Repayment is upon us. We are only the latest wave of students to face the reality of their loan debt- and we won’t be the last.

The Grace Period Blog is first and foremost, a conversation. Seven anonymous artists share our thoughts, questions, hardships and celebrations. Sacrifices must be made, but not of our art. Instead, we’re making our art work for us. We write as a manifesto. Our society is littered with debt, but money is something we’ve been taught not to talk about. It’s “impolite.” We hide the truth, are embarrassed by that big negative number following us around. Let’s come out of the debt closet together!

We are faceless because we are everyone’s face. It is not just our story, but the story of all of those who are in debt. Please check out the link to see the blog that has been our creative outlet for the past few months. We are pulling raw material from the blog to create a participatory performance piece- and that’s where you come in.

After months of anonymous writing, we will come together in a collective performance, raising our voices and yours, to celebrate the death of the grace period, and the beginning of the unknown. Your support is an integral part of this project. We look to you, whether you are an artist, a supporter of the arts, or anything in between, to join in our conversation, and donate what you can.

Art is a service industry and in that way it is interaction, an exchange between the artist and the audience, and we are all up for active “emancipated” spectators. Here’s what were asking of you, our audience and our collaborators:

Your participation:

reading, sharing and talking about the blog and the subjects it covers

participation in our performance November 21st. What that means: your presence, and as many of your friends, family, community, etc. that you can bring.

Your financial support:

We are asking for your help in meeting our $3500 goal to make this project come to life. This money will cover the cost of publicity materials, equipment for the performance, and of course, as compensation for the hard work and time we have put into this project so far. The  seven of us at the Grace Period Blog are asking for minimum wage payment for our time. You can scroll down to see the breakdown of our costs. Transparency is a rare thing in today’s world and we want you to know exactly where your money is going.

Save the date: November 21, 2o13, as we raise a toast to the end of the grace period.

Feeling Lucky

The day after Labor Day means the return to work, or school, or both. Many of my friends are going back for another year of college, for some it’s their first day of Freshman year. But, I graduated in May and am considered a productive member of society with my full time job as waitress/bartender at a wine bar. Wine is a great way to pay the bills! I invested the skills I have and am lucky it pays off by letting me do something I enjoy. Do I want to just be a bartender for the rest of my  life? Of course not. I’m in the fight with so many other artists who use the restaurant industry as a means to an end. This blog is also a means to end. But what’s the end? Pay off my students loans, ($7000 is not getting paid off by the end of the month and definitely not by November 21st) own a home, publish my plays, act in plays, films, TV and commercials. I want to tell stories that inspire, entertain and educate audiences worldwide.

We take chances on money all the time. My mother is a faithful powerball player. Office pools for the megamillions just might make 20 people a bit more wealthy. Stock investments crash and burn. Our economy hinges on the chances billionaire businessmen take in the market. My tax dollars better be invested into infrastructure that serves my community ( I can only hope). Not one to gamble, I bought a lottery ticket as way to show how easily money can come into our hands and being faced with the decision what to do with it…. or in my case, without it.