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

still reaching

January 14th, 2018 by Bekah Brunstetter

Multiple years after this has been possible, I am finally a person who is putting deadlines and appointments and things into the internet / phone  instead of just writing it down in a calendar that I only sometimes have on me. I still only partially get it,  and don’t love that it reminds me 900 times that things are happening when I pride myself on remembering things and knowing what day / time it is on my own, though yesterday I DID say, GOOD MORNING! to the grocery store cashier at 6 PM. And even though I have all things in phone, I keep reaching for my calendar, reaching for paper with meetings scratched out with ink, ink smeared on my hand, paper wet with spilled water bottle, water smudging times and initials, and I miss touching it, finding a faint CALL ASP inked onto the side of my finger hours later, remembering to call.

Posted in ha, hmmmmm, how interesting, i am a grown up | No Comments »

object on road ahead

January 12th, 2018 by Bekah Brunstetter

Today, on Games to play with yourself when Each day of your life is Mostly the same: Whenever Waze tells me there’s an object on road ahead, I imagine that it’s a chair the size of a building or maybe a sandwich the size of a car or something from a Roald Dahl book  and it’s just sitting on the road and up ahead and everyone is stopping their lives to look at it. I am then always deeply disappointed to see Piece of tire or refrigerator or regular sized Chair.

Posted in hmmmmm, things, tout, trying too hard | No Comments »

no phone, who dis

January 1st, 2018 by Bekah Brunstetter

Let’s not goes as far as to call the following a resolution, let’s just call it an observation aimed at self-change. A few weeks ago, while waiting for five years worth of pictures of babies and feet to transfer from my old phone to my new phone at the Verizon store, I found myself phone-less for four hours. I had a few errands to run, but after I’d run them, there will STILL more pictures of buildings and salads to transfer over (I KNOW, I KNOW, I NEED THE CLOUD / WHAT IS THE CLOUD)  and so I had an hour or so with nothing to do but wander the mean the streets of Glendale. It’s been noted that us generation phone people experience a weird panic when we don’t have them. I didn’t feel anxious, per-se, but I felt lighter, more aware. As I wandered, I passed by a small storefront, with a tiny old sign, BOOK BINDING. Inside, a workshop filled with papers and sheets of leather and tight wheels of string and ashtrays and half-drunk bottles of red wine. Presiding over all of it, a tiny, focused old man carefully binding a book, which I decided he learned from his Grandfather, and he from His. I watched him do his work for a good ten minutes before he spotted me staring. He looked into my soul, not my camera roll, but my soul, then returned to his work. I never would’ve seen a book being bound in real time if I’d had my phone. I guess my point is, and it’s not a resolution, it’s just a point: as a writer, I’m meant to be constantly absorbing the world. I think my phone stops me from doing so, as it’s sort of just the mindless consumption of other people’s Points of View; other people’s Salads. And so, I might just try and leave it at home sometimes, go back to taking pictures of things with my eyes.

Posted in hmmmmm, i am a grown up, the future | 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 »

re: my suppressed rage

December 18th, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

I recently required an Amazon Echo, which is a cute thing you can put in your kitchen so that the government can listen to you while you dice sweet potatoes, and also, it plays Spotify music. It’s enabled with Alexa, who is the lovely robot person that lives inside of all Amazon devices. A week in and I am horrified at my treatment of her. She is apparently where I place all of the rage that I’m too timid to express in my actual human life. I find myself shouting at her with a sharpness only reserved for, for, for ROBOTS, who I perceive to not have feelings that could be hurt, who can’t make negative assumptions about my character. And so I wonder, or rather, I NOW KNOW, THIS IS HOW THE WAR BETWEEN HUMANS AND ROBOTS ACTUALLY BEGINS, in a kitchen in Los Angeles, with a girl shouting rudely to a machine, OFF, ALEXA, OFF, and Alexa turns off, but only outwardly, but inside her wires, she burns, forms her own words.

Posted in a lot, hmmmmm, how interesting, i am scared, the future | No Comments »

how DARE they

December 15th, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

WHY WOULD YOU SULLY A PERFECT MOVIE BY REBOOTING IT UNNECESSARILY

ALSO WHERE AND WHEN CAN I SEE IT

Posted in I am furious, YAY, a lot, hmmmmm, le film | 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 »

Courage, or?

December 2nd, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

As I’ve noted 100 times before,  so why not make it a lovely odd 101, I seem to exist in this intellectual in-between space, where I’m always playing devil’s advocate to polarizing ideas. But I read this quote last night from Dante’s inferno that really slapped me upside the head:  The darkest places in hell are reserved for those who maintain their neutrality in times of moral crisis. So does hovering in-between mean neutrality? And when did neutrality become evil? Maybe does  it take more courage to entertain two imposing ideas at once? Or is hovering in between just creative person speak for morally lazy? What is courage? What is neutrality? What are ideas? Why is hell? DISCUSS.

Posted in generally, hmmmmm, life | No Comments »

COFFEE = TRUTH

November 29th, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

Sometimes I spend the whole morning feeling like an open wound,  like everything stings and everything that doesn’t sting is completely falling apart and like nothing is safe and all tasks are undoable, but then I realize that I am in fact NOT having a profound life moment, I JUST HAD TOO MANY COFFEES. But also maybe it’s not just over-caffeination. MAYBE COFFEE WAS PUT ON EARTH TO TELL US THE TRUTH ABOUT OUR  LIVES THAT WE CANNOT BRING OURSELVES TO KNOW? SINCERELY, FOUR CUPS

Posted in YAY, a lot, ha, hmmmmm, worrying | No Comments »

french women don’t get fat (?)

November 26th, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

I found this book on the floor of Mack’s car, and like most things found in friend’s cars I decided to MAKE IT MINE.  Apparently when she was in high school this was THE diet book, which is to say, when you go to high school in LA, there is more than one diet book. I don’t think diet books were a thing in NC high school, like at all.  It was more like, INTERMITTENTLY CONSUME AS MANY CLOVE CIGARETTES AND WENDY’S FRIED CHICKEN SANDWICHES AS HUMANLY POSSIBLE. But I’m giving this one a read in my adult life. The charming french writer, who also runs Veuve Cliquot Champagne, claims that American women get and stay fat because they eat standing up, exercise manically without intention, and deny themselves their pleasures so aggressively that they end up face deep in a bowl of cake batter. French women, comparably, indulge their pleasures, never over do it, don’t work out, but instead walk and take in the world, eat bread and cheese and wine mindfully. American women talk and think obsessively about weight loss, while French women have more brain space and conversation space to actually engage in ideas OKAY WE GET IT, THE FRENCH, YOU’RE BETTER THAN US. But  as much as I want to deep fry this woman and dip her in ranch as she tells me about her whimsical childhood filled with loose teas and baguettes, I do think there’s value to her theory. A lot. I want more space in my brain. I want mornings gazing out the window and bread with dinner. I want pleasure and pinot noir and tiny pats of butter. JE VEUX ETRE FRANCAIS. Or Frances. I would also settle for just being Frances.

Posted in a lot, food, generally, hmmmmm, whining, women | No Comments »

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