Patricia

On Sunday evening, Patricia Rozema -- pictured above with renowned documentary filmmaker Albert Maysles (left) and director Michael Sucsy at the microphone -- accepted the Emmy award for "Outstanding Made for Television Movie" for the HBO production of "Grey Gardens."  Patricia co-wrote the movie with Sucsy, and Maysles directed the original "Grey Gardens" documentary upon which the HBO production was based.  Jessica Lange also won the Emmy for "Outstanding Lead Actress in A Miniseries or A Movie," for her portrayal of Big Edie in "Grey Gardens."

There stands Patricia arm in arm with Maysles.  Here sits Flann continuing to stare in surreal disbelief, a file folder on her lap that holds scores of 30-year-old love letters and notes written by Patricia and sent to Flann.

Patricia was a senior at a religious college.  Flann was a book editor at a nearby religious publishing house.  We had been introduced by a professor of psychology who thought we might like each other.  We quickly came to adore each other.  We spent hours talking about religion and art.  A Christian apostate, Patricia found my relatively new evangelical Christianity unexpected and, at times, bewildering.  "But you like classical music and art," she would say, "how can you be an evangelical Christian?"  She gave me a paperback copy of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert M. Pirsig.  Now yellowed, the book still has its original bookmark -- a postcard from Patricia of a bridge near her hometown of Sarnia, Ontario.  The card reads:

I couldn't find a card with a view of my dear hometown of 18 years.  I offer, instead, a view of a point from which you could view the breath-taking panorama.  I thought you'd like the mystery of it all.

I did like the mystery of it all.  I gave her Mystery and Manners, the collected essays of Flannery O'Connor as well as The Habit of Being, O'Connor's collected letters.  We read and discussed poetry, art, film and music, pretending to be critics of all things cultural.  The evening we first heard "Lakme, Delibes Flower Duet," Patricia told me that she would one day use the music in a film.

For over a year, Patricia tried to wear down my evangelical resistance with sweet notes and letters combined with endearing physical advances.  I never crossed the line -- whatever I conjured it to be at the time -- and Patricia began to refer to me as her "lesbyterian."  She eventually graduated and moved to Toronto to pursue the film career she so passionately wanted.

Seven years later -- out of the blue -- she called from the Cannes Film Festival to tell me that she had won the "Award of the Youth" for her first full-length film, "I've Heard the Mermaids Singing."  "Please see it," she said, "you'll recognize yourself."  I did see it, and I did recognize myself.  I also recognized a key piece of music in the film: "Lakeme, Delibes Flower Duet."

The mystery of it all.

Comments

[Flannista]

Have you ever experienced seeing someone with whom you had once been intimate (emotionally, spiritually or physically) on a national or international stage/setting?

[Flannista]

Among the issues raised by this post is the issue of jealousy. Is it a good thing or a bad thing? Why or why not?

[On-a-Journey Sista]

I have many fond memories of going to see "I've Heard the Mermaids Singing" with you. I remember laughing hard together. It was a special time.

[Flannista]

That was the third time I saw "I've Heard the Mermaids Singing."

The first time I went alone, and I'm glad I did as I don't think I could have expressed how surreal it was to hear a couple of my own lines on a huge screen. Or that the lead character, Polly, would have the last "nickname" that Patricia had affectionately assigned to me seven years earlier. I wasn't laughing much the first time I saw this movie. I was too flabbergasted.

Polly is a klutzy kook who gets a job in a trendy art gallery run by a curator with whom Polly has clearly fallen in awe. For example, Polly memorizes the curator's various assessments of art. One assessment is that it was easy to tell what art was the result of "half-lives, half-lived."

"Half-lives, half-lived." That was my go-to phrase for anything I pompously thought was substandard the time Patricia and I were "cultural critics."

The phrase haunts me now when I look back on my own life.

[half-a-sista]

So, are you Polly in "I've Heard the Mermaids Singing?" I can see what little I know of her character in you. If you ever let what's inside of you out for the world to see, we would all hear the mermaids singing. I bow to you.

[half-a-sista]

The computer ate my last remark.

I have experienced seeing someone with whom I have been intimate on a national setting...the wall of the post office. Some I've seen on the evening news, under arrest. (Just a joke.)

Jealousy: not good or bad. I become jealous when I see someone doing something I yearn to do like singing on stage in front of a live audience or being in love. Jealousy points me to places in my life where I haven't put myself out there due to fear or whatever.

Half-lives, half-lived doesn't mean forever half-lived. It isn't too late for me to dust off the sheet music, plan a private concert, hire the grand piano and the pianist, and show up on stage for one evening. In case I do will my favorite videographer come to the show?

[Flannista]

Thank you, half-a-sista. As you know, I struggle so to let what's inside of me out for the world to see. Fear of failure. Fear of success. Fear of judgment.

A lot of fear.

Polly was, I think, a composite of both Patricia and me, but mostly Patricia. I am primarily jealous of Patricia's ability to overcome her fears. Actually, she never expressed many when I knew her intimately. She seemed determined, unbowed. Like me, she was the editor of her Christian college student newspaper when she was a senior and openly shared her apostasy. Like the Christian college student newspaper I edited, Patricia's was a radical rag -- intelligent and outrageous.

We were both seeing therapists when we were close friends to deal with mother issues. Where did Patricia get the guts to push beyond all that haunted her about her mother? The curator in "I've Heard the Mermaids" singing is clearly a mother figure for Polly; a mother figure that Polly is able not only to humble in the end, but also to redeem. I am certain mother/daughter issues are what attracted Patricia to the "Grey Gardens" project.

Is it talent? Money? Sheer luck? How did Patricia do it? How does she continue to do it?

[half-a-sista]

It isn't talent. Money helps, but it isn't money. Luck plays a small part. I would say that Patricia did it because she said, "F**k it. I'm going after what I want." Maybe that sustains her even today. Why don't you talk to her about how she did it?

Flann, it isn't too late for you or for any of us. I keep telling myself the same thing. "It isn't too late, half-a-sista. It isn't too late." Now I need to support myself in expressing all that I want to express. What's the worst the world can do? Kill me? I'll die someday anyway. Why not get what's inside of me out into the world? I die either way.

Ten, twenty, thirty years of a life fully lived would be enough. Hell, one year of a life fully lived would make me so happy.

[Flannista]

Of course I'll come to the show, half-a-sista. You have to promise to perform my favorite love song, "All the Things You Are" by Jerome Kern.

I know that "half-lives, half-lived" doesn't mean forever half-lived. But I read recently that for every decade of life after the age of fifty, the brain loses two per cent of its weight. I know my memory is fading now. I never thought I would reach the age I am now and still be at a point where I dream and don't act; more specifically, I don't complete. I buy a house, but don't furnish it (don't really want to, actually). I start stories and don't finish them. I put together small videos, but don't finesse them. I'm all sound, fury and self-pity, signifying little of what will "last forever and for all time" (the curator's definition of a true work of art).

I continue to tread creative water, waiting for what, exactly? I don't know. Am I that lazy? That content to bask in victimhood that so conveniently justifies a multitude of half-assed efforts?

[Flannista]

Just read your last comment, half-a.

"One year of a life fully lived would make me so happy."

I hear you. Makes me wonder if I've had one of those years but never realized it. How does one define one of those years? It's different for everybody I know. I'm reminded of another scene from "Mermaids" -- in which the curator is sharing with Polly her creative angst:

Curator: I don't want to die leaving just this body.
Polly: Whose body do you . . . (Polly stops mid-question, realizing she has missed the curator's point.)

I did ask Patricia once about the secret to her success, and "F*ck it" is PRECISELY what she said. How did you know, half-a? And where did Patricia get the courage to do precisely that?

[Flannista]

Here's where most parents have a distinct advantage. Most (not all) mothers and fathers can look back over their lives and say, "We raised great kids. We have grandkids. We made the world a better place." Their creative endeavors and accomplishments are breathing and living right in front of them. Their kids visit, and these mothers and fathers can sit back and know that they've added something to the world. They have a legacy. Something that will live beyond them. Something that will last forever and for all time.

I'm at the age where you start thinking about this stuff. Admit it, if you're my age. It's hard not to think about it when you see someone with your same dreams and aspirations accepting an award standing next to the renowned documentary filmmaker you want to emulate. It was a one-two punch to my gut and heart.

[nowayasista]

Throw the letters away and appreciate where you are. Don't get lost in the never-ending analysis of what could've or should've happened.

[half-a-sista]

Noway has some good advice. Don't get lost in the never-ending analysis of what coulda, shoulda, ougtha. We can use what we did to propel us into our present moment. It's really all we have. I must remind myself of that on a daily basis.

Mr. DeMille, I'm ready for my close-up.

[Matissta]

Thanks noway, couldn't have said it better myself. Living in the past and concentrating on the "what ifs" is self-destructing.

Appreciating where you are is not only a gift to yourself, but to others as well.

[PEACEsista]

When my father died, I went to his file cabinet and took out the folder labeled, "Poems and Such" to transcribe them and make copies for his sister and brother and for his six kids. My dad began writing poetry as therapy after a nervous breakdown. He made his living as a business man. Writing poetry remained his private creative passion.

When I gave my Aunt Alice her copy, she wept. They were close. She didn't know he'd ever written a poem. My aunt is a brilliant intellectual who adores poetry, but she told me that day that she'd never had the confidence to write it. She knew what good poetry was. She didn't think she could measure-up.

My dad on the other hand found peace in arranging words to collect his scattered mind. He wasn't worried about how it might stand-up next to Auden or Whitman. He just knew it made him happy. He would sometimes ask me to read one of his poems aloud as we sat by the fire. He was his own audience and that was enough.

I've learned something from each of them. Sometimes it is good, I think, to follow your fool's heart, or passion, diving right in to create art without trying to learn everything about it. Knowing what is great can paralyze you, whereas following your simple joy leads to something which will please you whether it ever meets the masses or not.

I lacked the confidence and courage to study music in college. I loved to sing and was afraid that making music my job would erode my joy. Now, my son is making his way in the world as a bass player and I see the hard work, courage and passion needed to live a life from your own talent and imagination. I think I was too lazy to work that hard. It was easier for me to get a job, have a paycheck, raise a family, volunteer and just play with my talent, rather than work with it.

In mid-life, we get to choose again, I think. I have this talent and this passion, what will it be, work or play? Either answer can be right if it meets your heart's desire.

[Flannista]

"How we remember, what we remember, and why we remember form the most personal map of our individuality." -- Christiana Baldwin (author of Storycatcher)

I hear you noway, Matiss and half-a, but there's a fine line between what you term, "never-ending analysis" and trying to find one's way out of what feels very much like a stuck place. You have to admit, on some level, don't you, that seeing Patricia on national television was, for me, extraordinary and bound to bring up a host of things that can't be easily pushed back down into the "Flann-in-a-Box"?

Do my questions bring up uncomfortable questions for you? Is it easier to say, "Stop this naval gazing and move on already" than it is to read my honest (albeit fumbling and somewhat vain) questions and sad regrets? I am not negating my entire life. Neither am I saying I'm not grateful -- Patricia, after all, does not have Matissta in her life. Or the sassosphere.

But who among us does not live with regrets? Mistakes? Looking at them is "self-destructing"? Or "not appreciating where you are"? Sorry, beloveds, your admonitions are hitting me like Hallmark card sentiments. That's jarring, I know, but I don't feel heard.

[Flannista]

PEACE -- our comments passed in the 'sphere, and as is your gift, you acknowledge both regret and hope. Your heart is huge to to hold so much -- your honesty as well as the honesty of others, all without judgment.

[Chrysosistah]

Wow, what a meaty topic on a Tuesday. Scarecely know where to begin, and due to work, I unfortunately must be brief now -- plan to return later. No, I've never known ANYONE, intimately or casually, who has achieved Patricia's levels. And if both of you shared so many interests and goals, I can imagine how difficult that might be -- on one hand, thrilled for her, on the other hand,"what does that mean for me?" Omph.

I think PEACE has the best response to date. You must focus on what makes you happy, really happy -- the rest will fall into place as it will.

I get being stuck, find myself there frequently lately, but also over time. When I was young, one of the ways my parents would punish or try to control me was to discern what made me happy and take it away. I think I eventually learned to not acknowledge what made me happy, to not admit it, and to bury it like a little treasure. In my child's mind, it wasn't safe to declare yourself, to hold an opinion that differed from authority, to state a goal or ambition, because so often it would be ridiculed, criticized or somehow denigrated. It's very very hard to overcome those childish habits, since we survived by using them. I think that's the roots of my "stuck" stuff.

Finally, this also brings to mind some lines from one of my favorite sayings/poems:

"If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain or bitter,
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time."

Much love & support, Flannista. Give yourself a break, girl.

[frida]

Keats thought no one would remember his name; Dickinson wondered whether fame would escape her. I think these are the questions of those with romantic hearts . . . we can never make enough out of the gorgeous and impossible life around us.

As I get older, though, I feel my life is full and has been well-lived. I wish I had more of it to come. Maybe another hundred years. I need to write a book! I need to get a gallery. I need to . . . see more, see more!

And I love the idea of half-a on the stage and Flann filming it. So talented and so accomplished, both.

[half-a-sista]

frida, I hope you would consider doing the sets for the performance which might become, "The Sassistas! Amazing Talent Show": The Documentary.

Naval-gazing. It's been several years since I could see my naval. Those were the days of my youth.

Flann, I think that we become paralyzed when we try to fix the past. There is a difference between looking at the past, learning the lessons, seeing how it made us who we are today and obsessing with it wishing some things had never happened. We let go of the past when we realize we can't change it. What happened, happened.

Likewise ranting and raving about what happened, when we never had the opportunity to do so in the past releases all those emotions we have held for decades. To let out that pent up stuff frees all the energy we use to keep it under control.

But don't live in the past. That's what I've done and now I'm struggling to live in the moment. Doesn't mean I won't think or write about my past. It doesn't have the same hook for me that it once did.

Chryso, can you now go for what makes you happy and put aside those feelings that it will be snatched from you because it makes you happy?

[half-a-sista]

Flann, if the sentiments seem Hallmark-ish, it's only because we care enough to send the very best. (I think this is where Jersey posts, "GROAN!")

[Chrysosistah]

Sometimes, half-a, sometimes -- and with it comes a firece joy, a sense of triumph . . .

Funny, the song, "They Can't Take That Away From Me" is running thru my mind now ;-)

Oftentimes, however, no, it's very difficult to put those old fears and adjudications behind me.

Oh, and GROAN!!! Arg . . . half-a, that was painful!! :-D

[Flannista]

Thank you half-a, for coming back and caring enough to send the very best. Beneath all the fear I sit on is even more anger. We're going to need a bigger boat.

frida -- no, we can never make enough of the gorgeous and impossible life around us. Wish I had started a helluva lot sooner, however humble. Yes, I am expressing a regret. Doesn't mean I don't appreciate life or myself or my beloveds. Or that I'm going to kill myself.

Chryso -- thank you for your painstaking (and painful) description of how you became stuck and why you think you still struggle with it. I don't think I've ever read a more clear and heartfelt description.

Two quotes from Alice Miller's, The Drama of the Gifted Child, which capture my thinking at the moment:

“The results of any traumatic experience, such as abuse, can only be resolved by experiencing, articulating, and judging every facet of the original experience within a process of careful therapeutic disclosure.”

“I was not out to paint beautiful pictures; even painting good pictures was not important to me. I wanted only to help the truth burst forth.”

[Carolyn]

I don't get the wailing. So, you wish that you had the accomplishments of this chick. If that's what you want, sista, then go get it. It's not like you don't have the talent. Don't lament the half-finished projects, complete them. Or scrap them, start anew. Just start. Commit. Finish. Fearlessly.

[Flannista]

I found the rest of what Patricia said when I asked her about the secret to the success of "Mermaids":

"I said, 'F*ck it.' I didn't care about what story others wanted me to tell. I cared only about telling my story. What could I lose? If others didn't like it, I still had told my story. I had lost nothing. If others liked it, that was just icing on the cake."