Howling At The Moon

In the production notes at the beginning of the play True West, playwright Sam Shepard discusses the expected sound design for Coyote howling that he writes into the play.

"The Coyote of Southern California has a distinct yapping, dog like bark, similar to a Hyena. This yapping grows more intense and maniacal as the pack grows in numbers, which is usually the case when they lure pets from suburban yards... In any case, these Coyotes never make the long mournful, solitary howl of the Hollywood stereotype."

I'm not sure why this particular bit of information grabbed me yesterday afternoon. Like when you think about buying a red car and then all of a sudden you start seeing all kinds of red cars, it was one of those synchronistic moments when after focusing on something (in this case the return to my old play with Coyote images) you suddenly start discovering a multitude of references to the particular target of interest. Like most of these situations, there is a fairly obvious underlying reason here. I have always seen a connection between Sam and Coyotes, and I have always seen Sam as an icon/role model/silent mentor for my own writing. It wasn't terribly unusual to go from launching a new mental game with coyotes to a quote from Sam staring me in the face just a few minutes later.

What IS interesting - at least to me - is the underlying message in the biological lesson about coyotes. They are generally seen as solitary animals, but as I understand it, more often than not, they are pack animals who generally live and hunt together, though generally in smaller numbers than wolf packs.

Lately I've been struggling a lot with what I want to do and where I want to go next. The last year has been filled with more changes than usual for me (and that's saying something) and one of those changes has been the opportunity to spend a lot of time in theater productions of various types. I also spend a lot of my time either writing or editing (video and audio mostly) alone, in my little monk's cell of an apartment. There is something to be said for both forms of work and it seems like I am in need of large amounts of alone time while also being a desperately gregarious individual. There is absolutely no question in my mind that I do my best work (most interesting, most creative, most satisfying and most productive) in collaboration and I am really desirous of developing new (and old) connections and partnerships.

The point I think I'm getting at (there really IS a point that I'm getting at) is that even when we think we are alone, or solitary, or flying solo, or way deep down in the loneliness of our personal cave... pretty much every one of us needs the company of others. We need people to give us new ideas, or to provide support in the midst of a lonely struggle, or to react and respond to the things we think and feel. Even the most solitary artist, at some point, needs an audience... at least, and friends are pretty nice too.

Like Robert DeNiro says to Jonathan Price in Brazil... "We're all in it together kid."



P.S. For more info on the Coyote sculpture above check it out at Jim Callahan's Website