Don't Surrender, Dorothy!

what she says

Saturday, May 03, 2008

hey folks - new location for the blog,

please go to

dontsurrenderdorothy.blogspot.com

Friday, May 02, 2008

they finally gave me the keys to the place. I'm a big girl now.

just look at what I can do:

they finally gave me the keys to the joint. I'm a big girl now. just look at what I can do:

Entering Phase Two -
Death As A Salesman moving along... into something new. Who knows what.



Here's the North Columbia Schoolhouse stage... backdrop hurriedly painted by my brother...



who lingered on stage a moment too long. We're going to have to eliminate that. In some way that won't feel like a demotion.



Here's some more shots of me on stage. I forgot so much stuff. It's like packing in a hurry. You always leave something behind. So as I work with the material - and Douglass' constant changes and additions - I get more and more used to it, and fewer and fewer things will get left under the hotel bed.





What are friends for? When bad eyes leave you painting blind? This is what they're for! Thanks!



Menlo Macfarlane, Aram Larsen, Reese Sutfin in The Bishop's Room.

Saturday, April 12, 2008

schoolhouse show...


april 26 we're doing death as a salesman at the north columbia schoolhouse cultural center, a magical place where everything works great. we saw Vermillion Lies there, were floored.

here it is, on the lovely ridge, high above Nevada City:



hope to see you there. I finally got Douglass to agree to get on stage and introduce the show. bout time for a little help from that side.

Monday, April 07, 2008

I've been taking care of my brother Douglass who had some eye stuff going on for the last month. A vitreous hemorrhage, torn and detached retina, then a vitrectomy and laser surgery... it's all working out well now, but after that surgery he had to stay face down for 2 weeks... while the retina got settled in.



this is after the doctors did their best to remove the eye with spoons.



after the surgery Douglass gets ready for his two weeks of looking at the ground.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

We did the show at Dottie's Coffee Lounge last Sunday night, a horrible night to go out and drive, with icy streets and sidewalks. But they still showed and listened.

For me, it was a rough night; one never knows why things feel a certain way one night and a different way the next. Anyway, each performance is an experiment in working with a space. As my friend Antero Alli says, Space Is Intelligence. And in this case, the people sitting there were part of the intelligence. And so we're working together. And for me at least, it felt like we were dancing but stepping on each others' toes a bit.

relaxing before the show



our guests


On to Sacramento and Further!

ps. The Screenwriter came to the show, and if it weren't for Flu, he'd already be starting the screenplay for Death As A Salesman.

Friday, November 30, 2007

Hi from Grass Valley. New apartment, in the heart of town. Can't wait to move in and get to work. Video from travels across the US soon as I get things unpacked.



Grass Valley's a cute town. Roses in December.

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Third Thursday in Pittsfield

Berkshire Bateria drumming up a storm.

Firedancing by Maria Bermudez.

Theater by Barrington Stage.

 


Wednesday, June 06, 2007

Drunk with Love

sung by Dorothy Truth at the Storefront Artist Project's Dada Cabaret show.

John Sauer, piano; Randy Keyes. Drums; Richard Downs, Bass

6-2-2007 


Thursday, May 10, 2007

Evicted From Pluto

thanks to some pencil pusher in the Underground Laboratory of Galactic Standards - or whatever or whomever it was who brings to themselves such power - our home, Pluto, lost its planetary status, and was downgraded to Asteroid or planetoid. Some toid. We don't know what it means, except that it's not good. All residents to relocate IMMEDIATELY.

 

You know anyone that's got a place? 


Johnny Remembers a Former Life

on the road in New Mexico... Johnny sang to me of things he - barely - remembered.

Tuesday, March 20, 2007




Friends of mine.

(with thanks to Swapatorium)



posted by Dorothy Truth @ 7:34 PM 0 comments



Saturday, May 27, 2006







This was a midmorning day... at the cafe. I kind of bounced between the shop floor and working in cafes and bars. Each has its advantages and disadvantages. But I loved getting up and around before everyone else, and working breakfast means that. Morning. Smoke up through the valleys. Streams of workers, through the gate, through the doors. Sun rises. One can say there is only one story, one day. Hmm.



Then there was Linda. First day I saw her, I knew it was trouble, but the best kind of trouble. Pure, unadulterated (with sentimentality, neediness, drama) trouble. The kind one wishes for, and gives thanks for. Linda had left her husband. That's all I knew. She moved into our boarding house a few days later.

I was working on the big radials, propeller installation. It was a long way from the parts house. I've been told that love is terrible thing. But a thing of beauty, like a tyranosauros rex. Nothing is destroyed. Well, maybe not.



posted by Dorothy Truth @ 8:44 PM 0 comments



Thursday, May 25, 2006







We used to clip these pix from the paper and hang them on the wall at the boarding house. We were proud. Way proud. Never thought about what might happen when all those men came home. Of course they needed jobs... but, then...



so did I.



posted by Dorothy Truth @ 1:10 PM 0 comments



Tuesday, May 23, 2006







This is our older brother Ray. He was so handsome. He got a job with the RR and pretty soon he was driving this (Super Chief, baby) from LA to Chicago. He came to see me a few times after I had moved out there to work for GD, but then the war thing really got going and there wasn't any time for anything, it seemed.



He never understood why I had to take off. It was easy for him, to get along with everyone. Ray was smart but I don't know if he ever knew that there were people who were different. All kinds of different, and each to his or her own, mostly imcomprehensible to everyone else. So you give people, and yourself, a little space to operate in. There's no knowing, but for Ray that was no problem, since he didn't ask the question anyway. There was just that grade crossing, one too many. I shouldn't be going here. More later.



posted by Dorothy Truth @ 7:57 PM 0 comments



Monday, May 22, 2006






Bob. An American Indian, taught me how to make beer and a lot about photography. I didn't understand till years later what he meant when he said that the eye is a projector, not a camera. He could tell stories. He was over there, in the hospital, in the Philippines, I think. I never paid him that money I owed him, and now I think it's too late. I'm sorry, Bob.


It's hard to tell stories on these blogs in one way: the beginning of the story is at the bottom of the page, or maybe even stored away on another page in some archive. You start reading in the middle of the thing. Like a book you open on page 436 or something. One hopes that it's interesting enough to move the reader to go back to the beginning, even though there's never enough time for that. Do you know why? Because the whole thing takes just exactly as long as it does, so there's no time for going back; there's no extra time stored up or put aside. When watching a movie, you can push stop and rewind and see something again. But in real life, we can't. Unless the time is turned off. Something I think They are working on; I would if I were Them. I'm virtually certain that They're at least messing with time. There's just too much evidence.



And just to clarify, ahem, the whole thing we're talking about is the universe and everything in it, or attached with a shortcut link. It's just running along, no plan, just some initial settings and an algorithm, and we sit back and see what happens. So unless there's some kind of recursive thingie built into the scheme - for fictional purposes? - there's never enough time to go back, but only forward. But the recursive thing is worth a look. I'm listening to Eydie Gorme and Steve Lawrence sing "Muy amigos, somos tu y yo*" and it is very nice. Is every particle in the universe saying that to the others? I think I can hear them saying (singing) it sometimes. Even though my hearing is real bad from all those years in the shop.



More later.

*Very much friends, you and I



posted by Dorothy Truth @ 8:52 PM 0 comments







At the circus. The traveling one that Douglass had to be dragged to kicking and screaming. You'll note how comfortable I am on the horse, and how little Douglass looks like he's going to lose it. Hanging on for dear life! I can't believe I found these old photos. I know a certain someone who isn't going to enjoy this. Payback's a bitch, even if you think you know better!





After everything that's happened, and it's a lot, I don't feel bad that Grandpa really liked me better than Douglass, and so he enjoyed watching Douglass grip that pole like he was gonna be thrown into the weeds. He'd never joke with Mom about it, but with me he did. I've got some pictures of Gramps trying to teach us to gamble, with complicated hand signals and everything. If I can find them I'll put them up on the blog. But as for gambling, my brother never settled for anything less than a sure thing. Which has given him a certain kind of bull-like unstoppability. I can just see all of you raising one eyebrow and saying, "ya think?"

Well, I can. More later.



posted by Dorothy Truth @ 8:39 PM 0 comments









We found this old mask out in the back yard when I was a kid, I think it was Montana. He looked an awful like our math teacher. I thought he was one of Mr. Barker's relatives, but I guess it was way too old for that. They all got excited and I never saw the mask again. But as I result I got really interested in ancient civilizations. I liked the way some of them dressed a lot. Way better than anything I saw around home or even on TV. Really - they looked so comfortable in those clothes. Loose and real colorful. Beads and everything, too. But this guy here is the one who started it all off. So if he ever wondered during his long-ago life whether or not he ever accomplished anything of lasting value, the answer is yes.

I call him the unknown noble. More later.



posted by Dorothy Truth @ 8:35 PM 0 comments









This is where I was partly raised up before I went off to Ell-Ay to get a job and to get out of trouble. It was here that I learned all about using machinery and working on motors and how to spit and all that. But still there was something up there, or the absence of something up there, that made me want to leave. And so I did. And more on that later. Now, of course, I know that all those absences and presences I was feeling or wishing I felt were all just a part of me, or something that wasn't part of me and couldn't be found anyway. Be that as it may, there sure are a lot more people to find in Ell Ay. And I sure enough ran into some of them, and some more trouble along the way. Her name was Rita. Good grief.





posted by Dorothy Truth @ 8:34 AM 0 comments



Sunday, May 21, 2006







While we women made the stuff, the men got to actually use the equipment. I'd be lyin' if I said I wasn't incredibly envious of these guys.

Here's Myrtle, the only woman - or man - on the crew who could shut me up. Used to think about her a lot. She never respected me as a musician, and I didn't care. It hurt deep, but I didn't care.



More later.



posted by Dorothy Truth @ 7:53 PM 0 comments









I love this shot of me. When the chips were down, I was there to pull us through.... and speaking of which, here's the text of Our Marketing Prayer, which leads, in a bit of invocational business, each and every performance we do. We know upon which side our bread is buttered. Listen...

Our Marketing Prayer.
Fully copyrighted, but not by me. This version is open source, baby, but please credit the Dot.

It is.
It is crystal clear.
It is our business.
It fits like magic.
It floats.
It's digestible.
It's downright sociable.
It's always a pleasure.
It makes a difference.
It's mild and mellow.
It's moisturized.
It's more you.
It's joy in a jar.

Nothing else like it.
Nothing else even comes close.
Nothing like the flavor.
Nothing to serve but the public interest.
Nothing's too good for our boys.
Nothing's faster.
Now better for everything.

That fresh perked taste.
That frosty mug sensation.
That marvelous mixer.
That old time ale with the old fashioned flavor
that South American thrill.

We fool the sun.
We give it our best.
We give you more.
We have what it takes.
We help to light and power the world.
We know values.
We know where you're going. We like it here.
We make you safe.
We mass produce quality.
We mean business.
We never sleep.
We put it in writing.
We respond.
We seek to serve.
We tackle the tough ones.
We still believe in promises.
Why not ride the best?
Why not smoke the finest?
Why pay more for less?
Why pay more?
Why drown your soul in a greasy dishpan?
Why struggle for sparkle?
It will not kink. It will not shrink, swell, or warp.
Will cure a cold in one night.
Will bring peace of mind to you and your family.

It is the most admired.
It is the most asked-for brand.
The most beautiful thing.
The most complete line.
The most convenient address.
The most delicious.
The most dependable.
The most distinguished.
The most economical.
The most elegant.
The most expensive.
The most famous name.
The most for your money.
The most progressive name in steel.
The most trusted name in pet food.
There is no equal.
You found it. .
You just know she wears them.
You know it's fresh.
You'll be ahead, you'll be a better cook.
You'll find the woman's touch.
You'll like our style.
You trust its quality.
You never had it this fresh.
You'll feel softer and silkier.
You'll be lovely.

They cost no more.
They do things for your legs.
They express success.
They have a tone that's all their own.
They keep the whole place warm.
They last longer. They last forever.
They look real.
They resist wear.
They respect your throat.
They satisfy.
They walk with you.
They work while you sleep.
They're pure.
They're smackin' good.
You can trust our good name
You can't mistake the flavor.
You couldn't express it better.
You deserve the best.
You deserve a break. today.

Think.
Think of it.
You'll feel so fresh, so cool.
You'll get more.
Don't wait till it storms.
Don't take needless chances.
Just Do it.
Remember, it does the work.
It eats up the dirt.
It eliminates the noise that annoys.
It covers, it beautifies.
It lasts, it protects.
It pulls you through.
It cleans your breath while it cleans your teeth.
It cleanses, preserves, and beautifies.
It has no pernicious odor.
It lulls the skin.
It resists wear.
It stays brighter longer.
It rises to the occasion.
It breathes as it feeds.
It circulates, it radiates.
It gives you the sweetest and most tender moments of your lives.
It's worth asking for by name.

Think of what it can do for you.




Our first band. We were called The Main Hens. The name sounded different in the original Azherbhaijani. Those were the days, boys.

More later. Much more.



posted by Dorothy Truth @ 8:54 AM 1 comments









Hi folks. What a thrill to finally have my own blog, and not have to beg permission from my brother to use his. I will thank him for the link. "Thanks."

I've had a lot of jobs. The one pictured above was one of my favorites, tho I was replaced to do camo painting - I've never been very good at keeping things between the lines. Then the war ended, and so did my job and a lot of friendships. Those truckers! My.



Later - much later - I was an intern on the set of the Kaptain Kangaroo show. What a misunderstood man. A man of deep philosophical depths, of profound profundities. I snapped this picture of him, deep in thought, cogitating on Espinoza or another of his favorite writers. Or philosophers. Or whatever they are. Anyway, seconds later, he's the smiling, jovial master of ceremonies that kept so many kiddies in front of the TV and out of trouble. Mr. Greenjeans was another kettle of fish. You don't want to meet him in the hallway!

More later. Much more.



posted by Dorothy Truth @ 5:53 AM 1 comments

Saturday, February 24, 2007

At least he can't come in here to bother me. Bisbee has this fantastic YWCA - it's where I'm staying and making many many friends. Eat your heart out Douglass! nyah nyah. Can't come in here!

I come to find out my twin brother has shown up in Bisbee AZ, too! Isn't there some other sun-drenched locale where he can hang out? One where he won't be impinging on my space not to mention my reputation? Copycat:

Sunday, May 21, 2006



Hi folks. At long last. One of my friends, a regular at the cafeteria, helped me set this up. My brother wouldn't lift a finger. Natch.

More later. Much more.