Wednesday, July 27, 2022

Fixing the Shade-A Journey Through the Mind of Steve




Fixing the shade


Seeing clearly ever again 

Seeing clearly my friend

The wind

The breeze

I want to see water

I want to see trees

Seeking freedom from me 

Seeking freedom from you and me

The air

The horizon

I have to let go 

I have to be done

Seeing clearly ever again

Seeing clearly my friend


I’m listening

I’m hearing 

Whatever was

Was

Never again 

Whatever will

Will

Begin again 


The freedom of the bird

Wings never tire

Be light less heavy

Hunt peck pursue

If that’s what you choose

The freedom of the bird


Turn the page

Close the book 

The library is full

Sit with it 


I want to go swimming

With dirt debris 

Other creatures we’re all free

I want to go swimming

We’re all free

Being flushed away 

Abruptly 

We’re all free 

The gift of being 

     Flushed away

Away towards

Dirt debris

A new we

Other creatures we’re all free


The freedom of the 

Bird

This is me

The freedom of 

Me

The bird flies

Free


I want to go swimming

As a bird I can

I have that

Freedom

I can be free

I want to go 

Swimming 

A bird

Can swim 

Swimmingly, a bird can 

Do 

Swimmingly 


Hey Steve

Hope you are enjoying 

Camp. You can be free

Do so swimmingly. Be

A bird. Be Steve

Do swimmingly

Do free. 

Lovingly

Swimmingly 

Me 


Every bird has a tail 

And a tale

The story of 

The past

Feels the flight

Be light

Not heavy 

Just be

Swimmingly 

A bird

Can 

Be 


I have to 

Hunt peck 

Pursue

If I choose

I have to 

Eat I have 

To be

I don’t have to 

I choose to

Swimmingly 


Did I hear 

The calls of 

The other

Birds

I can now 

I’m hearing clearly 

I can be a bird

Swimmingly 


Listen 

Hear

Process

Release

Listen

Hear

Process

Release

Listen 

Swimmingly 


My hand was a turkey 

I have always 

Been a bird

I can be free

I have always 

Been a bird

I can be free

Swimmingly

I let go of the stories

That used to be 

I can be free

Swimmingly 


There are no birds

There are no birds

Look up that's

Where the birds

Exist

Where the birds fly 

Where the birds are 

The birds be

The birds and the be

A bird without the be

Be a bird

A bird

A bird will

Be

Swimmingly 

A bird


The problem with the lake 

The lake is not the 

Problem 

You are the solution 

Be the solution 

Don’t change the lake 

Accept the lake 


Be the solution 

I am the solution 

I am the problem 

Be the solution 

I am the solution 


I fixed the shade

Thursday, April 7, 2022

Type Cast

 



3 Improvisers
2 Poets
1 Suggestion

Welcome to Type Cast improvised poetry and poetic improv. We need one single suggestion to inspire our poets and improvisers. The poets will sit down at their typewriters and compose an original piece of prose while the improvisers create an unscripted 20 minute scene. At the end of the scene, the poets will recite their poetry to the audience. After both poems are shared with the world, the improvisers will perform another scene using all of the imagery established by the poets. 

Summer 2022
South Bend Fringe Fest June 23-26
Indy Fringe Aug 18-Sept 4

Summer of Fringe 2022

 


GoProv and it's various iterations will be traveling the midwest the summer of 2022. 

Saturday May 21- Sauk Theatre- Jonesville Michigan 
Saturday June 11 Neighborhood Watch Goshen Theatre
Thursday-Sunday June 23-26 South Bend Fringe Fest (3-4 Performances)
Saturday July 9 Live, Laugh, Local Goshen Theatre
Indy Fringe Aug 19- Sept 4 (3 performances TBD)

Monday, February 15, 2021

3,2,1 Weird-A Reflection

In these challenging times, we hope this message finds you well...shut up Bath and Body Works. I do not need an email from you nor do I need COVID candles. I need to perform again. First, I want to feel safe and comfortable. I need an audience who is compliant with rules and expectations. I need a community willing to sacrifice "freedoms" for the greater good of the community. I am thankful for my health and the health of loved ones, friends, and strangers. I am sorry for those who have experienced loss during the past year. Times have been tough, I know. I also know I will not be taking the stage any time soon, however a boy can reflect. 

Zoom is wonderful but it is not the same as being on stage with other creatives. We all make jokes about how many years has passed during the first few months of the pandemic, however it's barely been one year since the world changed. For GoProv, the year 2020 was supposed to be the break out year where we were going to introduce "the Future of Improv". We had multiple shows in February and early March from a "Laugh and Learn", our annual Valentine's Day is a joke show, a couple private gigs, and of course our epic "3,2,1 Weird" show before we even knew what Coronavirus meant. Our momentum was masked, isolated, quarantined, and ultimately quelled. Thankfully Zoom became commonplace but it's not the same. 

There is nothing like standing on stage in front of an audience hearing laughter, cheers, moans/groans, and silence. GoProv will feel accomplished with any of these responses. Our job is to make stuff up. It is as simple as that. No script. No plot. No safety net. Just improv. We have been doing this for almost 13 years. Our monthly shows have been on a scale of somewhere between "Epic" and "Well, that just happened". Most often somewhere in the middle, hell short form improv comedy isn't known for being avant garde. 

My most rewarding performances have had an element of vulnerability, a moment of truth, and a time when I could reveal my true self, even if just a glimpse. We have had a few of these moments over the years, many of which have occurred more recently. 2020 was supposed to be the year where improv meets, fringe, meets experimental theatre. I feel myself getting in the weeds and on tangents right now in this post, so maybe I'll focus on the point at hand: a reflection on our 3,2,1 Weird show. 

TMLMTBGB...does that mean anything to you? Too Much Light Makes The Baby Go Blind was a Chicago mainstay theatre performance. 30 plays in 60 minutes...or free pizza for everyone. Fast forward to some legal battles and TMLMTBGB changed names to the Neo-Futurists. Inspiration comes in many forms. A Chicago road trip to Second City, iO, and the Neo Futurists fed the creative soul of myself and the team that went on this "research trip". Sharing some thoughts, ideas, inspiration, collaboration, conversation, discussion, hopes, aspirations, White Claw, and dreams with fellow creatives sparked the concept of 3,2,1 Weird. 

The 3,21, Weirdos were me, Adrienne, Charlie, Colin, Derek, Dylan, Grace, Joe, Paxton, Sadie, Sydney, and Art House.

Each one of us wrote a short "skit" that included the entire cast. The skit had to be based on a truth or a reality. There were 20 of these 3 minute, 2 minute, or 1 minute sketches titled: 
Junk Yard Song
Cereal Roast
All about that Bass
Is my subconscious trying to kill me or is it just the world
Virgin Mary 
Jellicle Choice
Shiny Egg
I'm writing a song
Hustled by Ghosts
Us vs Them 
SBG
Letter B
Who's afraid of the dark 
AMA
Bloody Valentine
This is when she dies
Rose Ceremony
Joe's a pee pee boy
2 Spoons and a lie
French Burglars
and Derek Playing Psycho Killer on bass guitar all night

Nothing was more revealing or more vulnerable than "2 spoons and a lie" (we even had a scene where a performer stripped nearly bare so that's saying a lot). The 2 spoons scene required all performers to stand in a line passing 2 spoons from person to person. When the spoons came your way, you would put them over your eyes and state a lie about yourself. This was in the moment, not rehearsed and not scripted. This was completely improvised in the moment. There could have easily been lies like "I once fought a dolphin in a death match" however folks were quite vulnerable with their lies. "I am happy with my sex drive", "I am happy with my body type", "I think people find me funny", and more and more truths were shared in this game about lies. To stand on that stage with my eyes covered while sharing my inner most truths (in the form of a lie) was powerful. I could feel everyone else listening to each other and sharing something personal. It was cathartic, revealing, emotional, and necessary. Having such a creative high right before a pandemic is what got me through the year that was 2020. 

I sent this in an email to the collaborators the day after the show "This show started with an idea of creating something silly and I believe we surpassed my expectations. We created a piece of art that was heart warming, charming, silly, absurd, and life changing. The power of artistic expression is important to me. I have greater appreciation of "experimental theatre". The directive was to share something true and personal. The vulnerability, honesty, and creativity that was offered to our audience was remarkable."

I think about 3,2,1 Weird so often to keep the memories alive and thriving in my creative spirit. My own piece "Hustled by Ghosts" about the ghosts who told me I am not good enough, that I can't, that I shouldn't, and that I am nothing no longer haunts me. I have released all of that self doubt and fear of belonging. I know I do not have to fit in with everyone I encounter. There is a world that accepts me for who I am and who I want to be. That world is filled with the people I call family. Every 3,2,1 Weird collaborator and even those audience members who were impacted by our show are family to me. 

Yes, I miss performing. Yes, I miss being in an audience. Yes, I miss the world we used to have. I also know that we are going to be better. The "pod", "bubble", and "circle" that we have maintained during this world changing pandemic has proven that quality is far more important than quantity. I am stronger knowing that I am not alone when I have memories, plans, goals, aspirations, and desires. 

My final 2 spoons and a lie: "I am happy being alone".


 

Monday, December 21, 2020

Autumn Fall

From the Storytelling Showcase Dec 20, 2020

Autumn Fall

This is a story told from three perspectives about the impact and aftermath of an unfortunate accident on Thanksgiving Day 2017.   

A tree:

The day was unusually warm for a late November Thursday in Goshen, Indiana. The air was calm and my leaves were still. There seemed to be more people frolicking and being active on this particular day. Sometime late in the afternoon, multiple people climbed on my limbs racing towards the top. I knew I was strong, sturdy, and ready to support the weight of two human adults and three squirrelly teenagers. One particular adult climbed higher than all of the others. He had a careless confidence in his skill and ability to out climb the adult and the younger climbers. Let’s call him Mr. Swiftly. My strength is in my base and my roots. Admittedly, I have an abundance of leaves and branches at my top however I do not have much strength up there. You can see me swaying in the breeze and casting shadows from my remaining leaves. I tried to warn these folks that going too high or moving too fast to the bottom would be dangerous. A race to the bottom was successful for 4 of the 5 climbers. The one with the reckless abandon jumped from branch to branch as if he was in a jungle or a massive squirrel. An outward jump towards my lowest branch was meant to deliver bragging rights for this particular climber as the first one to reach the ground. I tried to make a connection. Sadly though I could not hold on to this human as he missed my branch and fell quickly towards the ground. If only I could warn him to tuck his arms in before hitting the ground. The message could not be delivered. Both hands were outstretched to stop the impact. I knew it was going to be a forceful impact. I knew it was going to be painful. I knew he could not hear my warnings. He fell hard onto his hands and even smacked his head on the ground. It appeared to hurt. However, Mr Swiftly jumped up, brushed the dirt from his face and went inside the house. I never saw him again. 



A car: 


Have I got stories for you? Where would I even begin? I’ll pick it up just after the Tree left off. I’ve seen Mr. Swiftly act careless and reckless plenty of times.  Now, I have a confidentiality agreement so I cannot go into too many details. You can call him Mr Swiftly, but I prefer to call him Mr. Stubborn. He is independent and self-sufficient to a fault. That Thursday night and the next morning were quite interesting to me. Mr Stubborn drove us home after the great fall and believe it or not 15 hours later, he drove us to Goshen Hospital. The pain and the swelling must have been unbearable. He must have realized that the impact caused something to break. I have to say sitting in that parking lot for almost 3 hours on what the world calls Black Friday was a lonely start to my day. I would have much rather enjoyed being at Target or somewhere that I could see my peers. He finally came out to see me and I noticed he had a temporary cast on the left arm and a wrap from the knuckles to the upper arm. Both arms were in shoulder slings to prevent movement. Somehow he took off the slings and navigated us home. Steering with knees and fingertips for 7 miles from the parking lot to home was treacherous and probably illegal. The following Monday he drove us to the orthopedic surgeon where the cast and the sling switched arms. There was now one plaster cast and one temporary cast. As a Nissan Altima, I’m no orthopedic surgeon, but it looked like the casts were meant to immobilize Mr. Stubborn. Once again, he drove us home. There were many trips of this fingertip driving. It definitely wasn’t safe, but I couldn’t tell him not to do it. One last encounter I would like to share was about 2 months later. Mr Stubborn still had a cast and a brace on his arms. He was driving home from competing in a 50K winter trail race in Kalamazoo Michigan. At a red light a semi-truck driver looked down from his big rig, blasted his air horn to get our attention, and rolled down his window to ask a question. He asked my guy, Mr Stubborn what happened?  Mr Stubborn was startled by the interaction and rolled down his own window to say “I broke my wrists.” Mr Truck driver said something like “oh that sucks. I have carpal tunnel” as he showed his own brace through the window. From November to March, everyone had a similar question about what happened. Random strangers from all over would create uncomfortable encounters. I’m not going to go into any more detail but I have to tell you, Mr. Stubborn treated me well even though I knew he was jeopardizing his own safety to drive. I bet it hurt to control me, but I never asked. 

                                

A kitchen:

Have you ever seen a grown man sit on the floor, covered in red pasta sauce, surrounded by broken glass, and crying uncontrollably? You do not know empathy until you experience something like this. Mr Helpless was doing the best he could from late November until early March with two broken wrists, 1 surgery, and 2 immobilizing casts. I’ve known him intimately since his teenage years. Every day he would visit with me listening to music, while slicing, dicing, sautéing, and cooking. The passion and joy of being in here was evident. Making food, sharing food, and eating food is a love language for him. I am proud to help bring joy to this man and his life. It pained me that day to witness the emotional breakdown caused by one simple accident. The stain of the trauma is still evident on my white cabinet and drawer faces. Marinara memories remain. When you are unable to rotate your wrist to open a jar or to twist a cap, you have to do whatever it takes. Mr Helpless was struggling to pop the top of a regular jar of sauce. A smack on the bottom of the jar with a plaster cast was a thudded failure. Mr Helpless knew that some pressure on the side of the lid could break the seal. One, two, three taps on the counter and no pop was heard. With more force, more velocity, and more pressure the fourth tap thrusted harder onto the lip of the countertop. Smash, pop, spill, splash, crack. The lid popped. The glass shattered. The sauce erupted from the jar. On the counter. On the overhead cabinets. On the drawers. In the drawers. On the floor. On the ceiling. On the wall. On his clothes. On his cast. On his other cast. On his face. The jar and the sauce were separated. At that moment, all of the pressure, the stress, the tension, the sadness, the feeling of being helpless jumped from the tree, out of the car and onto me, the kitchen. The release of emotion flowed from the heart to the eyes. The tears and the red sauce created an instant sea of sadness. Sitting in shards, surrounded by pools of sauce, and the spilling of tears from an emotional release have etched a memory in this room. A memory that remains ever present. A memory that will never surpass the joy and passion of cooking but will always be a reminder that a kitchen can support every emotion. One broken jar can try to break a man, even if just temporarily. It is in that freedom of emotional release that can give that man hope and strength that things will get better.  Things got better.


Tuesday, December 1, 2020

The Steve Freeto Podcast Episode 3

 



11/29/2020

Welcome to Episode 3 of the Steve Freeto podcast. This is a very special episode. We have a guest that we are vetting right now. If this guest gets through, this will be the best podcast ever recorded. We have a very small window to talk with this guest. I don’t want to ruin the surprise, but this guest has a brand new book to promote. I wont ruin the surprise but this guest wrote about a promised land. But first a quick word from another book. 

For some folks, improv is life and those folks know that life is improv. There’s a new book to help you improvise your life. Go, Improv is the new book by Stephen Freeto. Go, Improv is a collection of quick stories, guidelines, advice, and short form improv games for life and the stage. Go, Improv can be purchased through the online devil or you can buy local. Five dollars from every purchase made through Goshen Art House will be a donation to Goshen Art House. Support those not for profit arts organizations. Now more than ever, we need the arts. Use The Freeto at checkout for an autograph! Thats THE FREETO.  https://art-house-105912.square.site/

That’s another great partner. Hey, here at the Steve Freeto podcast I want you to know that there are so many great podcasts out there. Thanks for checking out mine. This is the podcast to end all podcasts. 

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Welcome back. I am so excited for our guest. I hope we have time!  Keep in mind that I personally decide what sponsors join our podcast. Everything you hear on this podcast is run by me. My team does a great job at vetting these partners. Just like we make sure all of our guests meet our standards.

Remember Columbia House Records? Well, it’s back. You can get 12 cassettes  for the price of one Penny. Cassette tapes are the new vinyl. Do you want some tunes to be mailed to your house? Well, just pick from our most popular albums and you will be riding the storm out with the greatest hits. Like a bridge over troubled waters, Columbia House will take you to the stairway to heaven. Just find a penny, tape it to our envelope and drop it in the mail. Don’t forget to pencil in THE FREETO for free shipping. Also, as a listener to the Steve Freeto Podcast, here is a little tip. Do not use your own name. Make up a name and you will get free music. 12 tapes for one penny. 

I’ve got a great story for you. Have you ever been so embarrassed that you cringe just thinking about the memory. Hmmmm...Just call me BT cause I’m a big tease. But first, a quick word from our sponsor. 

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Well, looks like we ran out of time. I am so sorry to our guest. Maybe we will record something off air and share it behind the paywall. Sorry guest. The Steve Freeto podcast will be back next week with an all new Steve Freeto podcast. it all. See you next week. 

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Tuesday, November 24, 2020

The Steve Freeto Podcast Episode 2

 


Welcome to Episode 2 of the Steve Freeto podcast! Today is going to be a special one. We dig real deep into the dramatic early days of Steve Freeto. We will share everything that should have been shared with a therapist years ago. But first here is a quick word from a sponsor.  

Are you like Steve Freeto and do you have childhood trauma? It is important to know that help is out there. In fact there is Better Help for you. Whether you want to talk, listen, or work through issues or concerns, Better Help is available 24 hours a day 7 days a week. You can choose a counselor that best fits your needs. Find a counselor in your area that can understand what will help you the most. If after a few sessions you want a different counselor, you can get even Better Help. Just log on to your account and find someone to fit your needs. Better Help. It’s like getting help, but in a Better way. Don’t forget to use our offer code for a free month of Better Help. Just use The Freeto at checkout for your best help. Better Help. We are here for you.

I love that sponsor. They are more like a partner to me. So, there was so much positive feedback from Episode 1. If there is time, I will read you some of the fan mail we received here at the podcast.

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We know that times are tough out there. This podcast is meant to be a shared journey. We all are very similar in all of our differences. I love knowing we are connecting.

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The Steve Freeto Podcast is indeed the only podcast where Steve Freeto will be Steve Freeto for all of the Steve Freeto fans to get to know Steve Freeto. I would know I am Steve Freeto. You know, I didn’t really like my name in middle school and high school. Now I like it. To quote Jay Z, I am not a businessman. I am a business, man.

Some podcasts will let anyone be a sponsor. Here at the Steve Freeto podcast, we partner with only the best products and services out there. If you want to be considered as a top sponsor for this podcast, please contact TheFreeto@thefreeto.tv that’s T H E F R E E T O at T H E F R E E T O dot T V

This podcast has been a labor of love for me. I really enjoy baring my soul and letting all of you into my world. Some say I am hard to love but you know what? I am the one I love.

We haven’t had time to sort through the data to find out the demographics of our listeners but everyone is welcome here at the Steve Freeto podcast.

Do you hate certain types of people? Do you believe you are better than others? Do you want to control what women do with their bodies? Well, the Republican party wants you. With a few years of training, you too can be a hate monger working in Washington D.C.  Use The Freeto at check out and you will be entered into a free drawing for Senatorship of the State of Kentucky. Republicans: We Party like its 1618.

Wow, time flies when you are having fun. This has been another episode of the Steve Freeto podcast. Remember you cannot spell Anti-Capitalist without I. See you next week. Oh, don’t forget about our fav sponsor.

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