Get to Know Lisa Rosman Through Her Various Works

Grace and Proud

Every time Obama invoked grace during his landmark eulogy at Reverend Pinckney’s memorial, my permakitty bounded into the room and stationed herself in front of the television, as puffed up as could be. “I AM Grace and I serve at the pleasure of the President!” What a day. Between the Supreme Court’s marriage-rights decision and Obama’s pure and powerful testimony, our hearts were bursting with pride to be Americans, even as we mourned the lost souls of Charleston. So much is still a mess but our President said it best: “Today we have made our union a little more perfect.” I am very grateful, and so, apparently, is Grace.

A Midsummer Night’s Best

It’s that time of year, at least in the Northern Hemisphere. The days are long, the weather is glorious, and gardens are overflowing with bounty that hasn’t yet over-ripened on the vine. In short, it’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream time, that moment in the year that inspired Shakespeare’s most joyously subversive comedy. About four Athenian lovers, six amateur stage actors, and the fairies who control them during a magical night in a forest, Midsummer is an oft-quoted yet oddly underestimated meta-play about the intersection of romance, gender, identity, power, performance, and fate – ideal fodder for Hollywood adaptations, in other words, though the quality of those adaptations is markedly uneven. Here’s our oh-so-subjective list of the best Midsummer-inspired films; suffice it to say it doesn’t include the hamfisted 1999 adaptation starring a deer-in-the-headlights Calista Flockart, the 2001 “10 Things I Hate About You” knockoff “Get Over It,” or this winter’s buffoonishly wrongheaded “Strange Magic.” Continue Reading →

Venus in All Her Inglory

It’s only Wednesday and already I consider this week a bust. Normally I would dismiss that attitude as the worst kind of negativity but there just have been so many hurt feelings and misunderstandings all around. I chalk it up to the shadow of Venus retrograde, which lasts three months, only takes place every few years, and governs unresolved mishegos in areas of relationships, money, and all things aesthetic. Expect old family conflicts to resurface, ex lovers to show up, long-simmering fights with partners to rear their ugly heads. Not to mention awkward haircuts, zits out of nowhere, and–o my–nothing in the closet. Goddess knows that’s all been true in my life lately.

Yesterday I found a favorite pair of earrings that had been long misplaced. I wore them all around town like a proud peacock and then promptly lost one on my walk from the gym to the L train. I combed 14th street three times in my search for it and, while doing so, ran into work colleagues. Naturally I was clad in sweaty spandex shorts, greasy pigtails, and a cut-up tee shirt announcing in neon yellow letters: I LOVE GERMAN GIRLS. I looked so professional I could cry. It goes without saying that the earring never turned up. On my way home I walked by some new graffiti that was so VR it made me smile though I felt for the artist’s angst. See above.

My advice, Sirenaders: take an extra deep breath before leaving the house and opening your trap, make no drastic changes to your appearance, home or relationships, and escape as soon as possible to the sea. Friday I’m heading to the relatively pristine waters of Long Beach, where I plan to smile a big oystery smile and offer a mermaid song of submission.La de da….

"All, everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
― Leo Tolstoy