bekah brunstetter
Bekah Brunstetter I care deeply. About a lot of things. Like really, really deep. Ow
playwright in brooklyn, NY

TIDY.

February 3rd, 2018 by Bekah Brunstetter

In oh so many ways and on oh so many levels do I appreciate the irony of this advertisement for a local cleaning company that was left as litter on our front step,  that  went unnoticed for so long that it’s covered in footprints. TIDY, INDEED.

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Best 81!

December 31st, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

New Year’s Day is for promises, but first: New Year’s Eve is for reflecting Back.  Once again, people are posting their Best 9, 9 pictures that sum up a year of life lived. BUT WHO AM I TO CHOOSE OR FOLLOW SOCIALLY CONSTRUCTED RULES? And so, here’s 81 pictures from a year filled with friends and work and house and CAKE SO MUCH CAKE / I NOW UNDERSTAND WHY I CURRENTLY HATE MY BODY

Went to the Golden Globes / had a Kilroy’s retreat at Pacific Palms, heavily featuring Karaoke / marched in the NYC women’s march / met my niece nugget Ruby / drove four hours JUST to eat food, at Vivian Howard’s Chef and the Farmer with Julien / attended niece Olivia’s baby shower / ROASTED SOME CARROTS / workshopped The Cake at the Alley in Houston / MADE A GIANT VALENTINE’S DAY COOKIE

Wrapped season 1 of This is Us / Writer’s Guild Awards / went BACK to Pacific Palms, creepiest hotel conference center ever, to write a movie with Mamrie / NIECE OLIVIA WAS BORN / Morrison and I’s short film Again got into Tribeca / we dressed up like Empire Records people for Mack’s 90s themed 30th bday / JULIEN AND I WENT TO PERU

I decided it was okay to wear scrunchies for a minute / My Mom and I made a festive Easter cross cake / I met Olivia for the first time / we went to NYC for Tribeca and saw Again on the Big Screen / attended  fro-worker Elizabeth’s  lovely wedding in Carmel / went to my 10 year grad school reunion / Palm Springs with these womyn

Morrison took me to Santa Barbara for my birthday / I turned 35 and to celebrate, my Mom sent me a cat made of flowers / I finally got to see my episode of American Gods / my parents came to LA and got to see the This is Us sets / MY MOM, ONCE AGAIN, FLEW A DEWEY’S PINK LEMONADE CAKE FROM NC, this time for the cast during tech / The Cake opened at the Echo theater, sponsored by CHEERWINE / cake

baby’s first LA times feature / MORE CAKE, this time from friend Alina / baby’s first NYT feature / Debra Jo and I went on NPR’s the Frame / OH GOD, MORE CAKE / WE CLOSED ON A HOUSE

I MET NORMAN LEAR at my play / This is Us Season 2 premiered / Met Lily Tomlin at play! / MET ALANIS MORISSETTE AT PLAY / The Cake closed / renovated house / learned about things called ’tile’ / cousin Elli fled a Florida hurricane, came to hang with me

EMMYS / Morrison met the great Louie Anderson / THAT GUY STERLING WON AN EMMY / This is Us Season 2 premiere party / got to see The Cake at Playmaker’s with my sisters, where we all first met! / Had a reading of A.D. 16 at Joe’s Pub / SISTER KATHERINE GOT MARRIED!

One year wed = paper = HAMILTON TICKETS! / ate year old cake / finally moved in our house after 3 months renovating; discovered its sunsets / worked on my second solo ep of TIU / sat on a stool and looked off for Written By magazine / BOUGHT A GROWN UP CHANDELIER / Went to my parent’s new spot on Smith Mountain Lake, VA for Thanksgiving

Made house shaped cookies for our housewarming party /  celebrated the holidays with the best writing staff there ever was/  had our first tiny house guest / had a reading of Karen O musical at New York Theater Workshop /  met my soon to be sister-in-law Sarah / had a WHITE CHRISTMAS UP IN OLYMPIA.

SICK OF ME YET? ME TOO. Wishing you a contemplative, reflective New Year’s Day. FIND THE GOOD THINGS, AND LOOK AT THEM.

Posted in a lot, holidays, how interesting, i am a grown up, i am lucky, life, memories, mes amis, tout, trying too hard, vacay's, what my friends are doing, words, YAY | No Comments »

re: what kind of plays to make now

December 26th, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

Do you wonder what plays are even for? Do give this article by LA Times theater Critic Charles Mcnulty a good solid read. He expresses what I’ve been feeling and saying my responsibility as a playwright might be, ever since November 2016, if not before. Some favorite bits:

More than telling us what to think, theater artists retrain us how to think by jarring us out of our calcified patterns of understanding. Habit, Beckett said, is a great deadener, and the mind is the first to go. The 2016 election was worrying for a number of reasons, none more so than for the way it threw into relief the widespread deterioration of critical reasoning. Drama, the art in which perspectives are brought into collision, is a powerful antidote to the sophistry and sensationalism nullifying our capacity for intelligent debate.

And:

Identifying with characters who are both like us and not like us, whose individual qualities turn out to be a subset of the universal, is a necessary corrective to the solipsistic ruts that human beings regularly fall into. Empathy is a muscle that must be regularly exercised, and there’s no better gymnasium than the theater to keep it from atrophying.

And:

And more power to those who want to appeal to Trump loyalists in an attempt to, if not convert them, at least respectfully grapple with their convictions.

Posted in a lot, hmmmmm, how interesting, the future, the writing of drama plays, theater, words | No Comments »

if not

December 24th, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

Remember how yesterday I was all philosophically like wahhhhh, I maybe want to be someplace far way and regarding something grand! OPEN YOUR EYES, BRUNSTETTER. The view from the Foster-Keddie estate up in Olypmia, Washington, is stunning,  if not tranquil and quieting, if not completely humbling:

Is this how you use ‘if not?’ Asking for a friend. Myself. My friend is myself. We hang out often, if not always.

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I have

December 12th, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

Today, on I’m a cliche: we straight up spent 400 bucks on cheese and bread and ham and beer and buttercream frosting and christmas tree gummies and assorted other seasonal essentials for our friends for our housewarming party Sunday. We arranged everything carefully on plates and laid out our new rugs and our friends came bearing gifts of rare orchids and wines. Monday morning,  I drove to work, grateful, still beat, squinting through next day chardonnay face. At an intersection, there was a homeless man shaking uncontrollably  from some affliction, asking for money. I saw him and the weight of the previous night and the beauty of it and and the excess of it,  but was it excess? and what is excess, and just the very privilege of all of it crushed down on me and I felt sad and lucky and ashamed.  I dug for whatever cash I could find and the light turned green and cars honked as I slowed to try and get it into his shaking hands, and he God bless you‘d me, and I sobbed the rest of the way to work, and there’s a part of me that’s still sobbing, because God bless me WHY. Why, Why, Why. Why do the have’s have? And why do the have’s have not? Why is that I have, and keep receiving?  Why not them? How can I take what I have and spread it in a way that’s meaningful, beyond just clicking donation links and sobbing at my own generosity on the way to work? WHAT DO I DO WITH WHAT I HAVE? HOW BEST TO GIVE IT?

Posted in i am lucky, the whole world, tout, trying too hard, wanting, words | No Comments »

SUN’S OUT HAM’S OUT

December 10th, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

ATTN: HONEY BAKED HAM COMPANY:

I AM AVAIL FOR THE WRITING OF ALL OF YOUR COPY FOR MARKETING AND ADVERTISING

BASICALLY I’M JUST READY WHEN YOU ARE

Posted in a lot, food, i am lucky, words, YAY | No Comments »

Vanity

December 5th, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

“Nobody sees anybody truly but all through the flaws of their own egos. That is the way we all see each other in life. Vanity, fear, desire, competition– all such distortions within our own egos– condition our vision of those in relation to us. Add to those distortions to our own egos the corresponding distortions in the egos of others, and you see how cloudy the glass must become through which we look at each other. That’s how it is in all living relationships except when there is that rare case of two people who love intensely enough to burn through all those layers of opacity and see each other’s naked hearts.” – Tennessee Williams

― Tennessee Williams

Posted in hmmmmm, how interesting, life, words | No Comments »

bekah longbutt

December 1st, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

While some girls butts are like little festive cupcakes on bakery counters, short like catch phrases, mine is like a run on sentence or maybe like a floor pillow that can hold multiple people.  Fortunately, there are Products designed for this. Not only did I get us a toilet with an ‘elongated seat’ for our new bathroom, I now have acquired jeans with a ‘a ten inch rise’ which is overpriced denim speak for ‘jeans that can hang with your long, long butt as it searches for the end to its thought, as it extends past time zones and ankles.’   *Note: pictured jeans are about 1/10th the size of my actual jeans on my actual butt. And also whatever you do, do not do a google image search for long butts.

Posted in what I'm wearing, whining, women, words | No Comments »

Rosemary Nuts

November 9th, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

Yesterday, I happened upon a jar of Rosemary Nuts, and now I can’t stop wondering who she is. Is she an aspiring stand up comedian who lives in a spare bedroom in North Hollywood with a couple she met on craigslist? Does she only ever eat scrambled eggs?  Is she an amateur astronomer? Is she the only woman left in the world who cuts coupons out of the Sunday paper? Does she have a past checkered with parking violations and sinus infections? DOES SHE MAKE HER OWN PUPPETS? IS SHE MY HALLOWEEN COSTUME NEXT YEAR? OH  WHO CARES WHAT SHE IS SHE’S DELICIOUS

Posted in a lot, hmmmmm, women, words | No Comments »

you can’t act if you don’t know

October 21st, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

I stumbled across this excerpt from Ray Bradbury’s Something Wicked this way Comes today, and was really struck by it:

“Have I said anything I started out to say about being good? God, I don’t know. A stranger is shot in the street, you hardly move to help. But if, half an hour before, you spent just ten minutes with the fellow and knew a little bit about him and his family, you might just jump in front of his killer and try to stop it. Really knowing is good. Not knowing, or refusing to know, is bad, or amoral, at least. You can’t act if you don’t know.”

Lately,  I  have this overwhelming sense of Not Knowing. Like there is too much to Know and I will never Know all of it. Based on how well my brain retains information it encounters, I’m fairly certain that I do not actually sleep at night, but instead sleep walk to Home Depot, break inside of it, and spend the entire night sniffing paint. But  I don’t want to just give up, abandon trying to Know, become complacent, let my brain stop at recipes and kinds of pants. I want to keep knowing. If this means less sleep, then maybe, SO BE IT.

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