Today the staff at MacDowell did a mid-day champagne toast. The deadline for summer residency applicants was today and they got over 1000 entries for 70 slots. It's a record for them and a new feat in their popularity. Jesus, it really has me questioning how I managed to get in here.

I am writing a poem called "The Mother Teresa of Pussy." I also wrote a three page monologue about how cats are better than men. I wonder if Aaron Copeland is turning in his grave.

I feel introspective but am not sure if anyone else would agree. Folks here have offered to look at my stuff and help structure it, but I'm feeling insecure like this baby isn't ready for her party yet.

I have nine days left to make brilliance shoot out in a stream of cat pee.

Labels: cat lady, MacDowell

I've edited another video in my process for you all to see.

Labels: cat lady, MacDowell, the pick up artist

My Facebook friends may have noticed that here at MacDowell my FB updates have been super existential of late. This new CAT LADY play has me asking why we settle for faking love, what the meaning of life is, and where do we find the end of loneliness. I'm not sure how healthy it is for me to be exploring such heavy stuff for this long of time in total isolation in a cabin in New Hampshire, but thought I'd start sorting through some of this footage to organize my thoughts. I'm pretty proud of this edit done on the most basic of Final Cut skills.

Labels: cat lady, MacDowell, the pick up artist

For those of you who wonder how my shows come together, here's how ADD turns into streamlined action from last Friday's rehearsal at UCLA where I'm an artist-in-residence at the HOTHOUSE residency for artists. I'm turning CAT LADY into a full length show!

Basically, I jam on a bunch of ideas, images, emotions and themes. I improvise scenes with trusted collaborators (this last week it's been with aerialist/ actor Kennedy Kabasares). I have props available for use in the improv. Write each idea or scene down separately on a card, even scenes that aren't written.

Next, I see if I can see a movement that the story might follow (this one for Cat Lady broke down into five convenient acts). Then organize all the cards in some kind of order along this act structure.

Viola! I have an outline!

Labels: art talk, cat lady

I've decided to do the only thing that one can do when everything seems to be slipping out from under you-- surf the chaos. Can't fight it, can't submit your fear to it. Just surf it, flow through it. And it's working.

Reading the paper and all its agonizing news has actually become quite normal. And now, comes the task of having fun despite all circumstances.

Look at all the senior citizen things I am doing in this economy to stay busy and happy.

After my 3 hour sushi class at Santa Monica College (which is an excellent thing to do if you have the money or time, btw), I've been making sushi at home. And now, just as the teacher says, am never in the mood to go out to eat sushi. It's not bad when I make them. Though it would probably help if I had a knife that cost more than 99cents because my rolls aren't very elegant. My friend Bangbay came by this weekend and we rolled up tons of sushi (using raw salmon and tuna!) and ate it all, then wandered around the promenade in a food coma.

You can't tell there is a recession. Because there is still a line of people buying crap at Anthropologie. I wanted to scream out to the people stocking up on $8 tea towels: "Have none of you heard of the 99 cents store?!"

Next week I'm doing an excerpt of my show in Las Vegas. The pay is absolutely terrible, but I need to get out of town and my friend Greg is coming and will also perform. Bangbay is coming too. We're looking at it as a workcation. Our hotel room was only $21.80 a night(which includes the tax). I'm feeling generous and will be splurging for the room for the three of us (even if it may be missing a wall or has a chalk outline of a body on the floor).

Greg does this piece called "Spit" where he talks about men who have spit on him during sex and has people spit into a cup and drink it. It's so gross.

I can't think of a better travelling partner.

In other news, my friend Candi taught me how to use my sewing machine. And now I'm going to spit out felt dolls like nobody's business.

By the way, that volcano in Alaska finally erupted. We were scared it would blow when we were there.




Yay! Old lady hobbies!

Labels: america makes me numb, balance, cat lady, crafty, magic powers, vacation?

Even though I have yet to show it again, I was invited by the Feminist Magazine radio show on KPFK tonight to talk about Cat Lady... my new show in progress.

Click here to hear my interview

I show up about halfway through the interview. I ramble a bit but I like the sound of my own voice if I do say so myself.

Oliver is sitting on my lap. Bestiality... this is what it's come to.

Labels: cat lady, press, sex is unnecessary when you have yarn, the pick up artist

If you known me for a while, you know that sometimes I'll have blogs (like my last one) that end with me saying fatalistic things like: "I'm joining a cult!," then there is silence for a few days, and then the next entry will be something frivolous about a new haircut or something. With no mention of my previous freak out.

Anyway, I keep forgetting that these six weeks of relatively unstructured time in Los Angeles is for me to write, administrate, and do all those things that I need to do to keep working and make creative work. The trap is that unstructured time often gets wasted with freaking out about the meaning of life. The first few days back have been hard because I feel like when I get back to LA after long trips, especially in this economy, its like I'm trying to jump into some double dutch ropes that are moving too fast or not at all.

Lately, the city has felt really quiet. Like a long continuation of what it felt like over Christmas break. Is it just me? There's nothing really interesting going on as far as I can tell. It's gotten so uneventful here that my friend invited me to a picnic in the Valley in two weeks and I was like, "YES! I'm coming!!!"

Mike, the director and editor or our concert film reminded me that there is plenty of work left to do before I freak out and backpack across the country for eight years. And we're getting an editing schedule going so we can finish our wonderful Wong Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest Concert film. (Which is looking pretty marvelous I might say.) I'm also making a goal to apply for more grants and residencies and maybe pick up my novel again after having put it down after my residency in Florida last summer. Also, crank out a few spec scripts.

And so, I'm back on the saddle. I was panicked a bit the other night when I blogged about working on an organic farm-- something that I have been seriously considering if our economy collapses and art is obliterated in its wake. I found myself going through the community college course catalog looking for classes to keep me busy. For half a second I thought about taking a fabric basket making course. I wanted to take this tap dance class but alas, the carless life makes it impossible to get down there. (Anyone want to take this tap class in Culver City with me for five weeks? It starts tomorrow and is only $50!)

I often feel like a senior citizen in these stretches of unstructured time in Los Angeles. Like when I come home from touring, I have this semi "retirement savings" to live on while I enjoy the view and find things to keep my occupied so I don't let my mind wander too much. It's also a huge contrast from life on the road where I'm the belle of the ball in the cities I visit and integral to their culture. Here, I sometimes wonder if people even know or care that I'm back.

(I'm back! Where's my party!!!)

I signed up for a one day class in March to learn to make sushi. This was my drastic gesture to deal with the quiet. I was going to take an cross stitch class on Friday, but it's $60. That's a lot of dough when I can pretty much teach myself to do cross stitch. Yes, teach myself... cross stitch. I'm going to cross stitch portraits of me and my cat.

Oh god, what's happening?

I guess this is what people start to do at my age when they are unmarried with no kids... they start taking classes at the Learning Annex and play chess with homeless people on the beach.

Labels: cat lady, losing my mind in los angeles, marriage grown up crap

Today I did stand-up at the Laugh Lounge in the Lower East Side. I'm quite cynical and don't believe that anyone goes to see stand-up anymore, especially in this economy, or when you can see it for free online, or when it is Valentine's Day and there are meals to be eaten and action to be had.

I am wrong. There were plenty of couples looking to laugh it out before getting their rocks off. In fact the show was so sold out that I gave up my seat at the comics' table to some audience members.

Tonight, in what would have otherwise been a small show of comics and their friends, was a packed show with a paying audience (mostly couples) and I don't know how, but I killed. I was kinda lost the whole time and felt like the people in eyeshot were blankfaced. But I rocked the crap out of my 7 minutes as evidenced by the overall reaction. The one Asian girl in the audience took a picture with me after like I was some kind of celebrity-- that's how much I rocked the shit out of that place.

So much so that the producer said he'd bring me back again for a full on guest spot (a longer set in a more highlighted place in the show.) I do have to say, I was the only girl (and Asian) in the show, and a lot of the comics might as well have shit on the mics their mouths were so dirty-- and so the audiences appreciated it when I came up and said first thing, "Nice to be the only girl on an all guy line-up" and started to wipe down the mic with a tissue.

Also, before the show started, some women came up to me and asked if I was the waitress, and I pointed out during my set how "they seemed confused that the nail lady was suddenly waitressing"-- it killed.

But in my (post-show celebratory) two long island iced tea haze I have a deep ass question for the world.... ready for this?

At what point it is that people give up on love and just choose to fake/benefit through the motions of it?

Having been as solo traveling as I've been the last few years, I've had a lot of time to witness people in different cities and the lives they lead in one place. I think about the "settled" down life that I only have with my cat... and at that, I haven't seen my cat for all of four weeks. My community is scattered across the country. My most stable community is me and my suitcase. It's me and my body and the conversations I have with myself in transit.

Watching all these couples in the subway, in the street, in the bars and comedy club tonight, I began to think about how many of them have really had the benefit of experiencing their partner in full unrestrained loving ways. How many of them really discover that emotion of pure love (not just lust) together. How many of them are faking it and are drawn to each other because of biology. How much of it is desperation... How much of it comes from full, open, and total pure love?

Which makes me consider love and lust and how different the two are. Lust comes from hunger. Love, from an open and giving spirit.

What fear sets in that prevents us from being ready to love from that open pure place? When do we decide to cave into that fear and become actors in the game of love just so we can be part of it, as much as we distance ourlselves from it?

Ok, that's enough deep crap for me, I'm turning in. Good night.

Labels: cat lady, marriage grown up crap, neediness.

I'm in Seattle in a cute little coffee house in the I District. The weather is like the worst of San Francisco all day long. But seeing a real winter with falling leaves has it's charm. I only know winters in LA because the City puts up holiday decorations on Wilshire and there is a temporary ice skating rink in Santa Monica.

I got in yesterday and I've been staying with my composer friend Byron who helped me find a tv set so we could watch a "Double Shot at Love" with the Ikki twins.

It was feminist research.

After two seasons of Tila Tequila, just when you didn't think it couldn't get worse, the folks at MTV looked under the bottom of the barrel and found two obscure import models who are both "bisexual." They are quite homely looking and uninteresting. But they are much more convincing at being bisexual than Tila Tequila was.

We ended up watching the show at my friend Howard's boyfriend's place. It was so funny to watch the show with three gay men. They really got into it and were commenting on the selection of straight men as if they were the Ikki twins.

There's much more critical theory I can go into about reality dating tv shows. But I won't.

I randomly got a comment today on an old and really personal blog entry I made over two years ago, back when I was in a relationship (that was actually disintegrating partly because my career "blowing up"-- at least that's what I'd like to think had happened.... ). That was a weird blog entry to reread. I can't believe I put it out there. Oh well. So it goes.

And now two years later, I still find myself in somewhat of the same boat. Still traveling the country, alone, coming home to the cat. Except, I'm married to myself. Which (somehow) helped ease the feelings of being crazy when I'm on the road alone. It was a hard life to get used to but time has made me slightly more resigned to this roaming the country with my art as being a way of life.

Just ten years ago I hated being alone. I didn't know what to do myself if dropped off in a new place to explore. And now, it's a marvelous way of living. I guess.

I am weary of traveling alone as a single Asian woman in other parts of the world. Safety is a huge concern. As is feeling marked by my body. I went to Europe in college and the incessant screams of "Konichiwa!" in the street were enough to make me punch someone's lights out.

I'd like to pow-wow with other single women artists of color my age who make a living doing creative work and have to travel so much to make a living. Are we the revolutionaries of our generation? Or the new spinsters?

Speaking of unmarried spinsterism, I am actually hanging out with my friend Wes Kim tonight and spinning yarn with his wife after dinner on her spinning wheel. It's all I've been looking forward to about coming to Seattle all year.

The Wong Sans Wheels Chronicles #7

I also realize I have not blogged about being carless in a while. So here is the update.

The good. The bus means I've actually been reading the newspaper instead of letting them pile up in the house still bound. And I've been reading books! My mind has been wandering back to a more creative space now that I don't have to stare at the ass of a car in traffic for hours on end. I also have a lot more money at the end of each month which I blow on booze.

There are some downers about it. Like, I was offered a free month of acting classes, except they were in Burbank which is a pain to get to, especially at night-- do I rent a car just to go to that class? Or do I just pay for classes that are in my area for the equivalent amount? There are also tight time frames that I can't do. I used to have this ritual on Sunday of going to the Farmer's Market, getting a tamale, and then going to church, and maybe after going for Ethiopian food after. But I can only choose one of the three. It's also trickier to do a lot of errands, even if they are along the bus route home. Like I can't just jump off the bus, do the errand, and get back on like it's the subway in NY. I'd have to buy a day pass and be prepared to wait and wait and wait at the stop and only do errands where I won't have to pick up things that are super heavy.

The quirks. The poop pee vomit smell on some of the buses is no fun, nor is the more eclectic company of homeless people I wait at the stops with. Though it is interesting to see how long some of them can sustain conversations with themselves.

I've been researching backpacks with wheels to make things easier on my back when I have things like a laptop and stuff to lug around. This is admittedly a baby step towards becoming a total bag lady. Though I think I've already gotten there in the shopping cart that I keep padlocked to my balcony.

Byron is also turning me on to getting an electric bike. That way I can get up hills and do long distances easier without having to get a special license or scooter insurance. The issue is... electric bikes are around $1400! Bleh.

I still haven't quite figured out the safest way out of downtown at night. The other night I went to visit my manager in Downtown LA and even though it was only 8pm when I left, it was kinda sheisty out. I insisted on waiting for the 720 which is a half block from his office, but when these homeless people started screaming at each other, he walked me to Pershing Square to get home, so that I wouldn't be waiting at the 720 stop like a big target. He's actually quite supportive of me going carless and excited about this new show I'm (supposed to be) working on about LA carlessness because he's from NY. I thought when my car caught on fire that he'd be like, "You need to get a car! How are you going to take meetings in this town without a car?" But he seems to sympathize with my car trauma. Though he does say I'm being "really hardcore" to go so long without a car.

I still have car owner phobia. It's a good time now to buy a new car because nobody is buying cars plus car dealers are desperately trying to meet end of year quotas. But I'd so much rather put that money into a house or my friend's restaurant. And even the idea of having to buy new tires or get an oil change sends shivers of post-traumatic Harold stress down my back.

I have dreams about owning cars. At least twice I've had dreams about owning a smart car (those little two seaters). Harold (my old veg oil car) has shown up in a couple dreams too. I also had a dream that my grandpa was driving me around because I had no car.

I met someone the other day who owns a vegetable oil car. She said her car was doing fine. I felt so alone in my veggie-car-on-fire sadness. How come I seem to be the only one whose car caught on fire after thousands of dollars in repairs? Why me?! Why?!

I think this new carless show will be a love story/ story about an abusive relationship. The automobile that betrayed me. The ones that call me back to own them. And how I fight his beckon call to instead, travel about the world on my own two feet (and bus pass). Smelling like someone else's vomit.

Labels: artist life, cat lady, cat pee, hollywood wong, road wong, sex is unnecessary when you have yarn., The Wong Sans Wheels Chronicles, veggie oil car

Welcome back to reality Kristina Wong. In the 72 hours I've been back in Los Angeles, I've spent at least $800 (on props, personnel, groceries, fuel, bills etc), got rehearsals for my shows up and running, and just now... a big ass earthquake. I totally forgot what to do during an earthquake. I was at the REDCAT when the building started shaking and just stood next to the glass cabinet in the lobby waiting for it to be over... dumb! Lest I forget that I was alive for the 1989 San Francisco quake?

Luckily, everything is fine. A bottle of lotion fell in my bathroom. No biggie. Otherwise, everything is ok.

It's a bit stressful getting this show going. It's a very different for me... as every new show should be. I'm going through all sorts of pre-premiere anxiety. And I screamed "motherucker" at least 100 times this morning as I was going through my lines.

Oliver is sitting on my lap. He's happy that I am back. I wonder if he realizes I am doing a show on him.

Labels: cat lady, my mind in los angeles

This update is dedicated to all the great findings here in the last days of my residency.



My new fishing buddy Aaron is perhaps the youngest living male in the City of Englewood at the ripe age of 27. Too bad I'm married huh? This is the snook he caught this morning. Because they are protected (spawning season), he threw it back.



Here's a snapper we caught! A bit small but still good to eat! It was the first fish that I have eaten straight from the water. I don't know why Aaron's shorts look like they are falling down like that in this picture. I don't remember them doing that in real life. (Oh the mockery of this cat lady. Oh the mockery.)



But boy, do I love having all these adventures with my wife! She's so much fun!


But it was no easy task to clean a fish! Yuck! Check out this video of him cleaning the fish.... That thing wouldn't die!





Before cooking....



After! The snapper was actually very small and very bony. So we got all of two bites of fish in each filet.



I'm still kinda crap as a fisherwoman. My new show, CAT LADY that premieres next week uses a lot of fishing (a great way to excuse all this leisure time as "research"). Here is some once live bait I used that got a huge bite on it's side. I'm all bait and no bite I tell you.




We also got a great full moon sunset out here where the tide was so low that sand dunes appeared. Places where the water normally goes to your waist or higher, you could walk right through.


Watch as I narrate the sunset. On full moon nights there is a rare burst of green light that appears when the sun goes down. You can't see it in the video but it's still gorgeous to take in everything else you can get from the video.





See how low the water gets?


I thought this was a good picture of Sonja doing what she does best. Photography!

Later that full moon night we went looking for sea turtles laying eggs. We thought it best to split up and each patrol in a different direction. I saw two fresh sea turtle nests and Sonja saw one. But we didn't see the turtles. It's nuts because they lay eggs in holes that they make at least 18 inches deep and then they cover them before going back to the water. So they must have worked fast because we totally missed them. I think I saw a turtle as she was leaving the nest she made. I think I saw her back as she disappeared in the tide.




This is what a fresh sea turtle nest looks like! You can see two sets of tracks (one going from the water, and one going back to the water). The little mound is where the turtle dug, laid, and buried her eggs.



In the morning, Sonja and I woke up super early to watch the sea turtle patrol dig up nests that were past gestation. The patrol is made up of cool volunteers who dig up nests, then count the numbers of non-viable eggs and hatched eggs. They also keep track and protect the area around new eggs. Sometimes they find live or dead baby turtles in the nests they dig up.




Here are the eggs they dug up. A lot were not good, but the ones that still might hatch are reburied closer to the surface where they will get more heat and the babies will have an easier time digging their way out.


When a new nest is discovered by the patrol, the nest is marked by a stake that records the nest number, date of laying, and the initials of the people patrolling. This is the nest Sonja found the night before. The "KW" is yours truly!


Here are two geckos, mocking me with their lovemaking.

Here is a video I made of them. It's not very clever. And moves as much as the above photo. Gecko penises are red btw.



Sonja knows how to handle my camera better than me. Here I am in the gulf with the Hermitage House behind me. Today the water was so clear we could see our feet at the bottom.



I also have made a lot of crafts while here. The local wildlife has inspired a lot of new animal shapes.



If my fishing skills suck, at least I can improvise!



Here is a dead mouse I'm using in Cat Lady.


And of course! Sea turtles! If I can't spot them live, I can at least make them. This is for the woman who nominated me to come here.



Come on, you know you want to see another sunset photo! It feels like every sunset is so different here.

Labels: artist life., cat lady, cat pee, crafty, hot people, i'm kristina wong, oh my god, rednecks, road wong, sex is unnecessary when you have yarn, the secret, vision

The LA Times Article on my new work and the NOW Festival at REDCAT came out.....

Folks had requested I do another one of these but there were no roaches to kill... except for a brief cameo tonight... Short but sweet, and now I have another artist to help me shoot!

Labels: artist life, cat lady, cat pee, the pick up artist, to catch a predator

"She's got a butter face. Everything looks good on her, butter face."
--Wisdom from Big John, Rock of Love

Just blogging to let everyone know I'm still alive. I had some down time in the last few weeks which while good for relaxation, is very bad because it's just me and my thoughts. Alone.

One such amazing thought I had was this week: "Hey! Why not get my last name tattooed on my forearm in Old English!?"

Of course, I had this idea at a bar where apparently, many amazing tattoo ideas have been birthed (ankle dolphin anyone?) and was surrounded by enough friends who suggested I actually test drive the idea by writing the tattoo out in sharpie and sport it for a few days rather than drive myself to the tattoo parlor right there and then.



I'm not sure if it's because my version looked so Katrina-survivor-social-security-number-on -the-arm-esque, but this tattoo idea doesn't seem like a winner.

My self confidence has been on quite the emotional roller coaster since I was scouted for the role of the "frumpy Chinese waitress with pimples" a few weeks back. At first I laughed, and then last night, found myself sobbing.

This town is hard on a wee little thing like me. I've always thought I was beautiful and never thought anyone could take that from me. Sure, I'm not supermodel beautiful, but I'm alright. I'm a cutie pie. Right? Well, last night, it felt like enough side comments from friends, looking at myself in the mirror too long etc. has finally cracked me open.

I know I'm a shit talking broad myself, but there's only so much much verbiage I can take, and from my own friends. Who I know mean well, but.... ouch! I hurt!

I've been in Los Angeles for five weeks. And I'm going on tour Sunday for five weeks. I don't know how actors can stand being in Los Angeles year round. It's hard! And harsh! And so isolating. How can actors stand letting their fate be held ultimately by someone else? That drives me nuts. And people here are way too good looking and need to learn to use it for good, not evil.

I'm really glad I get to leave town and meet some down home folks in San Antonio, Amherst and New York City.

I am treating myself to an early birthday present in April. I've arranged to sit for pin-up photographer, Viva Van Story. She's in New Jersey and she's super enthusiastic about photographing me. I'm spending all of April on the East Coast. That's right. Wong is doing a set of pin-up photos! I may not share them on the site. I think I'll just have them printed up and framed in my future house where I can jerk off to hot pictures of myself in the privacy of my own home.

I have a vision for myself in my upcoming 30s. I'll live in up in my little condo in Baldwin Hills, North Hollywood or Boyle Heights (the only neighborhoods I can seem to get in for less than 200K), surrounded by my loving cats, knitting baby sweaters for my friends' babies, and I'll have tons of photos of myself looking hot.

Nobody can take that from me. Do you hear me? Nobody!!! I am the hottest cat lady ever!!!!

Labels: cat lady, hollywood wong

The Photoshop sham that is my headshot?

I just had a callback for the commercial I was "scouted" for. In my last post, I described being scouted for the role I was apparently born to play.

The role was a frumpy Chinese waitress with lots of pimples.

And it's been a funny story and all, but I can't help but think from people's reactions (veering more on the "Well that's Hollywood for you" rather than "What! You are gorgeous! You aren't frumpy and ugly Kristina!") that maybe I am a really really really ugly and horrible looking human being.

I mean, I was able to laugh it off AT FIRST, but I'm feeling from people's reactions, and this whole experience with these commercial auditions, coupled with enough bad awkward girl memories to fill a lifetime--- that maybe I really am that ugly looking person and have yet to embrace it.

And here I thought I was hot all these years. Here I had thought that I had a decent rack, nice body and a great smile. Was I wrong? Am I an ugly person?

As I drove back from the callback and looked at my reflection in the rearview mirror, I had the most horrible thought in the world.


This is the most horrible thought in the world...


"I am so ugly. I do not deserve to be loved."


Then one by one. I got flooded with more terrible thoughts and horrible memories. Maybe my mother was right when she told me as a kid that I should be on the radio, not TV. (She's long since taken that statement back, btw, and is fully supportive of my career.) Maybe I will die alone and unloved. Maybe I'll never be in a relationship again. Maybe my true calling is as the cat lady persona I keep mocking ironically. Maybe I should change careers and work in a dark room, alone, where nobody would have to look at me. Ever.

Because I am so hideously homely.


It's such a horrible feeling to look at yourself and feel like you can't be loved. Because everybody deserves love.

EVERYBODY. The frumpy and the pimply included. Do you hear me!? We all deserve love!!!

I shook myself out of this funk pretty quickly when I realized that there will always be someone who loves me.


"Hey! There's someone who no matter what, will cheerish and adore me!"

And that someone doesn't care if I have a frumpy day! Or get a pimple!

I smiled to myself in the mirror, that old familiar smile when I realized that someone in life does love me.

Who will always love me for who I am do you ask?


Gross and creepy old white men with large collections of Samurai swords, with a sizable Asian fetish, who jerk off to Asian porn and go on sex tour trips to Asia!

They will always find me beautiful and love me!

Yay for them! They will always love me. No matter how frumpy or pimply I get.

Come and get me fellas! Here I am!

Labels: a shot at love with kristina wong, cat lady, dying alone, hollywood wong, loser, losing my mind in los angeles, sex is unnecessary when you have yarn

The Creative Capital deadline is coming up and more than a few artists have been asking me for help. You guys! I don't really know anything about grants. I just apply for a lot of them and some come back to me.

It's nice when people think you have the magic touch. But really, it's just perseverance. I've written many many many grants. And I get turned down for a lot. Grants are like auditions, except there is more logic in who gets them-- but like auditions, it's also random who gets them.

I think I'm losing it. I'm tired of the haul it takes to get work as an artist. (Have I not mentioned this a hundred thousand times?) I'm sitting on a grant panel in two weeks and am getting a nice stipend to sit on the panel. But then I got the grant binders from the foundation! Whoa! There are like over a hundred applications in a stack that's 8 inches thick! I have to read each and every page of this! Blech. My stipend is well earned.

Today the REDCAT Now Festival application was due. I started it late last night and decided to use it as an opportunity for creativity. I'm tired of trying to prove my post-post modernism and how I'll save the world in one fell performative swoop, I decided to enjoy writing every word of this application.

From now on, I'm writing grant applications that are fun to write and read!

Here's a sneak peak at choice bits and pieces from today's REDCAT proposal narrative for the presentation of my new work--- "CAT LADY!"

"'Cat Lady' is a 20 minute performance piece intersecting the personas and rituals of cat ladies and male pick-up artists to create surreal moments of human isolation."

"...cat sculptures that are spoken to throughout the piece like old familiar lovers."

"My first golden shower..."

"I frantically sniffed all the cushions in the house..."

"As I slowly forfeited to Oliver's fecal violence..."

"dangling hairy lymph nodes..."

"The cat lady. Was that mythical persona of the unmarried woman living in the lonely world of filthy catdom becoming my reality?"

"...an animal psychic who came well recommended by our lesbian friends."

"...my set as a menagerie of cat sculptures made of newspaper and felt..."

"...i speak to them, dance with them, and enact my own obsessive compulsive thoughts..."

"...life alone..."

"...attempt real connections with the audiences and my cats..."

"...concurrent to Oliver's urinary woes..."

"...struck by his boyish eagerness..."

"...post-modern gold..."


For all you artists who keep asking me to send copies of my proposal or grant applications to you, feel free to plagiarize all of the above!

THE END.

Labels: artist life, cat lady, cat pee, chocolate rain, sex is unnecessary when you have yarn., the pick up artist

New Crafts
I haven't been knitting much lately if you have figured it out from the blog. It's been nicer on my wrists and now I don't feel like I'm going to have carpal tunnel by age 30. I brought much of my yarn stash up to my parent's house where it's hiding much to their chagrin. I'll knit again, but for now I'm taking a breather. I am making a lot of these felt dolls though. I can stitch a doll up in about 40 minutes while watching TV. They make nice thank you gifts. Here's a stash I made for folks in Miami and at CBS.



I make them out of reclaimed felt and the stuffing is from an old pillow. Yay for green crafts!

Cuckoo's Nest
I am in Santa Barbara tonight staying at the "Faculty Club"-- the campus accommodations. I have a show tomorrow. Yay! What a great way to spend Chinese New Year-- talking about suicide and depression! It's been about four months since I've last done Cuckoo's Nest and I swear it's a lot harder for me now than it was a few months ago. It is beginning to feel like a pair of pants I've outgrown. A lot has to do with the great reality that the depression/mental illness topic doesn't seem as impossibly elusive to me as it first was when I was trying to tackle the show. Also, I've done the show so much that it's sometimes unreal to me. I also don't knit as obsessively as I once did, and my body is changing.

So Nurit and I have been reworking parts of the script, finding more places to tighten and slice.
It's fun when we figure out those moments. It keeps it fresh.


New Show
Even though I swore I wouldn't make any more performance art shows that were a pain in the ass to tour, I've been dreaming up a new show that will be a pain in the ass to tour. I'm working very slowly on a new piece tentatively titled "The Cat Lady" which will be about being a cat lady, pick up artists, dry humping, reality tv, Ross Dress for Less and look at bigger issues of human isolation. I imagine now having newspaper cat sculptures all over the stage that I talk to intimately.

Yeah, not autobiographical or anything.

I'm actually not interested right now in touring it or thinking too big about what I'll do with it. For once, I want to make a show for myself that is not overtly save-the-world-esque, is not aimed at furthering my career, and instead, is really for me and nobody else. I think touring Cuckoo's Nest for my livelihood has turned this "love of theater" into a whole other monster. Artmaking becomes so different when you rely on it to pay the bills.

I want "The Cat Lady" to be my return to what I love about my craft. An exercise in having fun as an artist. Not that Cuckoo's Nest wasn't fun! It was just really stressful to take on such a nutso issue for a show.

I just hope it isn't career suicide to expend energy and time on a piece that may have zero financial returns. If anything, will just cost money to make! But I really don't care tell you the truth. And I have faith that I'll be fine.

I didn't become an artist to be rich. Right?


Barack-- His middle name is Hussein?
Yay Kristina Wong for coming late to the party. I kept reading "Barack Hussein Obama" on blogs and stuff and just assumed that it was just people being racist a-holes-- but YO! That's really his middle name!

I think Super Tuesday really stunned me in how awesome Americans can be. For some reason I just assumed that most of Middle America was racist and ignorant, but maybe not so much if they are voting for Obama.

My boy Barack took Utah? And all sorts of other states where I never thought they'd ever consider a black president! And the whole "Hussein"/ Muslim connection of his name that you'd think would bother the most ignorant of Americans, has obviously not affected his numbers.

It gives me faith again in Americans... maybe we aren't as stupid as we seem!

How great it will be to hear that name "Barack Hussein Obama" when he takes the presidential oath. To see a black man, mixed race, who didn't come from money, a new generation of leadership take the white house.

It really truly will be the America we've been waiting for.

Labels: cat lady, cat pee, crafty, crazy, Obama is hot, sex is unnecessary when you have yarn., the pick up artist

In considering the present degradation of mankind and the progress of the women's movement reversed in just one episode of Rock of Love 2 (Really Bret Michaels? You're giving the women coupons they can redeem to hang out with you? Really?! And why is that Katherine woman referred to as "old" when she is actually YOUR age?! Are you serious?)

AND seeing as that I'm addicted to these dating shows despite these infractions they have on my humanity, I've decided to jump into the degradation....

Network executives! I have a pitch that will be sure to increase your viewership among performance art aficionados, third wave feminist academics, and nasty old white pervies.

It's A Shot at Love with Kristina Wong!

Synopsis: 36 beautiful men and women (mostly Korean) ranging from ages 22-80 move into Kristina's 2 bedroom apartment in West LA for a chance to win the heart of this reclusive-yet-extroverted, neurotic-yet-sincere big bad Chinese cat lady. Each week, Kristina eliminates the unworthy, and those who remain will get a special crochet hook on a necklace ensuring another week in the apartment and the one ultimate shot at love with Kristina!

Week 1: Welcome to West LA!
All the contestants get off the Santa Monica Blue Bus and drag their luggage two blocks past the corner liquor store and the loitering homeless on Santa Monica Blvd to move into Kristina's apartment! The 36 all huddle into the living room where every imaginable sleeping area is claimed faster than you can say "Interdisciplinary Performance Artist!" Kristina rolls up in her pink benz to greet her future suitors in an outfit to die for-- A hand crocheted poncho! All Koreans who show up get a "use-whenever" coupon to hang out with Kristina and are automatically moved to the next round creating racial tension in the apartment.

After a night of mingling over orange juice and bottle water, Kristina picks a handful of the unlucky who will not make the next round.


Week 2: Who is oppressed? And who can comment on it ironically?

Challenge: To find out who can most identify with Kristina's work, she's set up a challenge that will really put them in her shoes. Using only fake blood, a roll of toilet paper, and butoh movement, the contestants must convey their inner legacies of oppression by creating an improvised performance art piece. Bonus points awarded to those who can be self-referential. The winners get to go on a special bike date with Kristina and buy her sushi.


Week 3: The Cat Lady Cometh

Challenge: What would you do for Kristina's love? In this challenge, massive piles of cat diarrhea and cat pee have been left in the apartment by Kristina's cat Oliver. And the contestants who clean up the most wins a date with Kristina at nearby Stoner Park for a vegetarian BBQ that they will cook for her.


Week 4: Grant me a Future

Challenge: Kristina needs help writing a high stakes Rockerfeller MAPP Grant that needs to be postmarked by midnight. So all the contestants get a shot at writing Kristina's grant. The strongest grantee wins a date with Kristina-- a shopping spree at Ross Dress for Less! But here's the challenge twist-- every two minutes, one of Kristina's friends will instant message with nothing important to say. Can they survive the online distractions, write the killer grant and get to the airport post office in time?


Week 5: Oil me up!
Challenge: Seeing as the price of vegetable oil has now climbed higher than that of gasoline, Kristina sends her contestants to the back alleys of some of LA's finest strip malls to find some fuel for her pink Benz. The contestants must pump and filter used cooking oil so that it is usable for driving. The one who returns with the most usable oil wins a date taking Kristina to the auto shop in Silverlake (where it was dropped off for yet another mechanical problem during the last episode) so she can actually put the fuel in her car.


Week 6: Can you tech Wong?

Challenge: This week's special guest judge is Jen, Kristina's theater technician that has toured with her on the road. Jen once teched Kristina's show from behind the scrim-- meaning she teched her show BLIND! Jen will do a crash course with the Wong-loving hopefuls on reading Kristina's scrawly handwriting and how to read Kristina's inconsistent stage cues. Jen will also offer tips on how to kick Kristina out of a pre or post show panic.

Whoever can best tech Kristina's show after this crash course wins a special date to see the Wooster Group at the REDCAT.

But here's the real twist-- they won't be teching the show in a theater but a cafeteria! Can they make it work?


Week 7: Oh the Yarns we Tangle

Challenge: Oh no! All of Kristina's yarn stash has come loose and tangled. Even her really nice Rowan yarn. The contestants must untangle and re-skein the yarn so she can knit it. The winning fiber untangler gets to go on a date with Kristina to Wildfiber, Kristina's favorite local
yarn store in Santa Monica.


Week 8: Guess Who's coming for dinner?

Challenge: The contestants are surprised when ex-Calvin Klein model and all over hot lesbian Jenny Shimizu shows up as surprise judge. Jenny grills the remaining hopefuls for their "creepy factor" screening out those with right-wing tendencies, lack of motivation, and an obscene collection of Japanese anime deemed as too creepy for Kristina's love.

Drama hits the house when Jenny starts to come onto Kristina. After Kristina and Jenny engage in intense lovemaking, walk arm-in-arm past all of Kristina's ex-boyfriends, and taking plenty of photo evidence to document it all, Kristina sends (heartbroken) Jenny on her way.


Week 9: Meet the Wongs
The remaining three contestants fly to San Francisco where they will meet Kristina's parents and extended family in what stands to be the greatest challenge yet-- gaining the Wong Family seal of approval. Who's FICA score is strong enough to withstand Mama Wong's credit check? Who will survive Papa Wong playing Whitney Houston's self-titled album on a loop for five straight hours?

Kristina eliminates one, and only two remain.

Week 10: Only One is Right for Wong
Kristina takes the final two for a special getaway. No, not Miami.... not Jamaica... not Hawaii. But Sawtelle Blvd, a few blocks from the West LA apartment! Exotic! Kristina springs for dinner at Yashima's where she worked as a hostess for a month after college (they still hook her up). There she asks the final two to put all their guns on the table and sing their best Karaoke renditions of a GnR song.

In a spectacular finale ceremony in Kristina's carport that involves battery powered Christmas lights and fake flowers bought on clearance-- the winner of Kristina's heart is revealed.

**********************

It's a sexy idea for a show isn't it? Yes, I thought you'd agree.

I'm going to cry now and brush my cat.

Labels: a shot at love with kristina wong, artist life., cat lady, cat pee, crafty, crochet, hollywood wong, losing my mind in los angeles, sex is unnecessary when you have yarn.

Well, I know I wrote a blog entry that borders on frightening when I get a call from my folks telling me how much they love me.

I am fine. I'm not going to hurt myself. And how present I am in an actor's showcase is not the be all and end all of the world. In fact, they gave me a line in another sketch today. I just had to blow off a little steam and stress in my last entry. A little space and a lot of love from my friends made me feel a lot better.

I did indeed, go to Church yesterday, found myself at Agape sitting in the outdoor tent. When they read the dedication about how a the seed of faith can overcome all, I started bawling. And then the guest speaker said, "In life, it's not about who never gets knocked down, it's about who gets up." Then they ended the service with audio from Martin Luther King about getting up in life to overcome the wrongs, to get up for humanity.

And I'm getting up all right. I am getting up tomorrow on that stage for CBS and I'll be wearing a big confident smile, stripper heels, a string bikini and a school girl skirt. During rehearsal today, I looked at myself in this crazy outfit, did a circle for the mirror and thought: "Oh Wong, you still got it. Now shake it like you are on a webcam."

Oh... you think I'm kidding?

Labels: artist life, cat lady, hollywood wong, sex is unnecessary when you have yarn

Now "2girls1cup" has just become my lame way of having done something creative, albeit conceptually creative with the day.

Labels: artist life, cat lady, chocolate rain, golden shower

This is my 200th post on my blogger.

So. As you can imagine from my recent postings, and even from my one earlier today. There's a lot going on in my head. And a lot of changes ahead.

My friend's mom took him to see a Chinese fortune teller yesterday. And basically the fortune teller told him everything from who he was going to marry and when he was going to marry and whether he was on the right career path or not. The fortune teller talked for an hour and a half while my friend's mom interpreted.

It was like all laid out in stone! Clean cut. Clear as day! Here is your life and how to live it!

My friend told me this and I found myself screaming... "DAMMIT! I want to see a Chinese fortune teller too!"

I would totally go see a Chinese fortune teller now. Someone to tell me everything that will happen in my life. Someone to make my decisions for me because I am so confused. Sprinkle some pounded up deer antlers and make it better. I'd love to schedule a session with a Chinese fortune teller.

Except, one big thing stands in my way...




Chinese!




(Damn!)

I was talking to Clam Lynch, my dear friend and self-made, self-help master about how for the first time in my life I feel like I am in the market for a psychic or spiritual guru. That if the best and smartest astrologist could tell me what to do... I'd totally listen and pay a hard earned $20. I just want some "expert" to help me figure out this next phase in my life.

He's like, "Why don't you want to see a therapist?"

I said, "I hate therapists! I need someone with magic powers!"

And then we both paused and then I said it again....

"I want to see someone with magical powers!"

Then I dug my face into my hands and started laughing. Slow, painful laughs.

Am I really talking this crazy now?

Magic powers?

Am I really so lost about what comes next in my life that I'm ready to track down Harry Potter to point me towards the next step in my career?

"Yes. I said it, Clam. I want someone to help me who has magic powers."


So this is what I need right now.

1. Someone who understands Chinese fluently and can take me to the best Chinese fortune teller in Los Angeles and tell me what he/she says about my future.

OR

2. Someone with magic powers.


Any ideas?

Labels: cat lady, magic powers

Look! It's Kristina in the year 2057.

The week has been totally non-productive and this morning is no exception. I think I am just flat out plain out tired of working. I feel like all I do is run marathon after marathon.

I went to the beach with Jen, my tech, yesterday and it seems that everyone is freaking in love or being loved to death, or moving town for love, having condos bought for them by their parents so that they can make the most of their life...

And then there's me....

I am a cat lady, who still rents, spending my summer crocheting stuff that is too warm to wear..



Here I am at the beach with the new hat I just crocheted.

Vince came by to help me shoot the video and I think I scared the crap out of him with crazy talk about, "What is this all for? Why do I work so hard? How long can I go on working like this?" And I was just talking about how my friend was diagnosed with breast cancer. And she's only a few years older than me. And I was like, "Man, is this what life is?!" And then I found myself fighting back tears. And he just sat silent on the couch.

And then we shot this video.

Then Vince went to play poker and I lay in bed and started a big long existential cry. It was crazy. I'm not sure what I was crying about. But I just was crying. It had been so long since I cried like that. I thought about calling someone. The one person I called didn't pick up. And I was too tired to call anyone else. And the people who I would have called are super depressed now.

And I passed out from crying. Woke up, and felt better again. Like nothing ever happened. Refreshed and ready to go at it again.

This is my glamorous life.

In other news, I decided yesterday to have a crafting party in my apartment in a few weeks.

(Don't worry guys, I'm totally fine. Swear. :) Please don't call me in a panic. I am fine.)

Labels: cat lady

Wow, last night was so weird. My friend Anida called me because I seemed so depressed over the cat pee thing on IM and we agreed that I had the right to have a crappy day and do nothing. Considering how hard I work, it was ok to spend a day of moping around the house.

And I always have my disgusting yarn stash to keep me company. Diana took a small bag of yarn off my hands. We are going to trade for headshots. I got enough yarn to trade for headshots until I can play elderly. These pics below only feature like 1/4 of my problem.



there's a woman in stockton with carpal tunnel who liquidated all of this for pennies on the dollar to me. i couldn't say no.


the sad stash tucked behind the couch.


the stash in my office.

So I have decided that it doesn't matter that I'm still hot and in my 20s and am the cat pee yarn hoarding lady. So what if other people my age are dating other hot people and partying while I'm crocheting baby blankets and writing grants? Dammit! Having sex, or a relationship, or even friends is unnecessary when you have YARN!!! My life is awesome! And I'm happy being a big hermit with my crochet hook.

Nobody can hook a beanie with an I hook the way Kristina Wong can! I'm the best hooker, this side of my building! Long live the sexy crocheter!!!

Life is awesome. Being a single cat lady who owns a cat who pees on you is awesome! Yarn is awesome! and I AM AWESOME.

(I chant this as I wipe a tear from my eye).

Labels: cat lady, cat pee, crochet, empowerment, hot people, loser

Well, so since this morning it's all kind of sinking downhill and out of my control. I get my first golden shower ever, and it's from my cat. And then the day just dwindles into total unproductivity as I follow my cat around the apartment to make sure he won't have another accident. I'm so sick and tired of this cat. As I was lifting sheets off the bed I could smell some OLD pee smell from some other blankets. I feel like some wretched monster lady and I know I'm not.

This is the thing, my apartment is pretty tidy. It is! Ever since I started working with a housekeeper. When it was messy, he didn't have accidents like this. I feel like I'm falling apart today. It's so terrible. I was all empowered and motivated this year and today, it felt like everything fell apart. I'm trying so hard to cling to the details from "The Secret" but can't. Today, I give up. I'm exhausted.

It probably doesn't help that I went on the master cleanse today. And that my stomach is totally cramping and I'm getting light headed.

I'm looking at this cat and have no clue what to do with him.

I am turning on comments now for my blog because I feel like such a sad ass lonely cat lady and need to reach out to the world. If people leave mean comments though, I'm going to turn it off.

Please tell me I'm not alone here.

Man, something is just weird about today. Doesn't feel right. I want to go to bed and do it over tomorrow.

Thanks for listening.

Labels: bad day, cat lady, cat pee, golden shower, master cleanse, neediness., the secret