Sunday, May 16, 2010

thoughts on artistry

Pain is what drives art. I have written anything in the las two months that was worth anything except “Father’s Day” and “Toy Soldiers.” Then: heartbreak. And my emotions flow. And I can’t stop writing. I’m not sure whether all writers are like this, but I know the best are. We write from pain. Pain drives art.

Mar 21, 2010

*END*

the dance

I don’t know how I feel about you and me. I never really know what  you’re thinking so it just leaves me with just me. Acting alone solely on faith and an unsteady, but necessary confidence in my actions. This is a tricky game. And I can’t even call it love for fear that I might misconceive this fragile dance.

Mar 18, 2010

*END*

“Atlas and the Wolves”


“Atlas and the Wolves”
‘A wolf has to roam free. A tree has to stay. It’s in their nature. It’s in their ways. I can only hope that this wolf comes back to me, for I can only stay. I can only stay. I can only stay.’  
                                                                                –  Atlas from Atlas and the Wolves. 
This is the crux of the play I’m writing today. A lot of my plays deal with the concept of loss. These next seven will be probably be about love lost. Finding love is easy. At the end of the day, we’re pretty much all fairly attractive, fairly confident, and fairly reasonable people. Soon enough, we’ll all find love. You can’t avoid it. But keeping it – making love grow: that is the problem. Therein lies the rub! When we attempt to keep love, we become unattractive, unsure and complete unreasonable. We become wolves and trees. 

As wolves, we feel the need to roam with the introduction of cold feet.  We feel the pull to see what we wanna see and see it alone. But wolves are exciting! Fascinate, full of life, because of the uncertainty in their presence and ways. Unpredictable, wolves are, but addictively fascinating. Now as trees - And unfortunately, I’m more like a tree – We are grounded. Rooted in the fundamentals of nurturing our relationships with those around us. We’re home to the wolves and the world in general. Because we never leave. We stay, and give life.  But trees are inevitably susceptible to being alone, for they cannot leave. They cannot roam. They can only stay.  And this is the tragedy I am going to write today. The tragedy of the wolves and the trees.

Mar 15, 2010

*END*

texts

There’s something about texting that’s so impersonal.  You don’t have to hear a voice and you don’t have to respond.  They’re just words on a screen. 

Mar 10, 2010
*END*

she like girls

I felt it necessary to comment on my performance in She Like Girls…. It renewed my joy in acting. This is something I definitely want to pursue in life. The story behind it is actually quite interesting. It’s all thanks to a fellow NYU grad student, and author of the play, Chisa Hutchingson – whom I’m quite sure I’ve become quite smitten with on several occasions… No matter! Here goes the story:
It was right before another class and, as what often happens, there was an impromptu yet instinctual gathering of Black students in the common area of the seventh floor of Tisch. We had all begun to give our life stories of how we had come to find ourselves at Tisch, and I off-handedly mentioned that I entered playwriting through my interest in acting during my undergrad year and…. Maybe I should put this in play form – 
Scene 1
7th Floor of Tisch.
CHISA So! You used to act…
PAUL Yes… yes I did. 
CHISA Do you still  act????
PAUL Well, sometimes…is that – is that offensive to you? (Mumbles the following to himself.) Cuz I could just say I don’t act anymore. I mean it makes sense, like we’re goin to school for playwriting so I guess I should focus on that. Just don’t – please stop looking at me like that – 
CHISA Would you actually like to be in my play?
PAUL …. (To himself.) Awesome. 
And with that I had the opportunity to audition for the premiere of the award-winning Off-Off Broadway play “She Like Girls.” How I got the part, well… 
Being a young Black man has various strange and not so welcoming aspects. One of which, is the specter of “true” Black Identity. Attending an all-White (seriously all White) private school while living in Jennings, Missouri (Predominantly Black) allowed me 22 years of training for the part of Andre, the thuggish male best friend. To be honest, I hated having to “act Black” while growing up, but if it saved me a few less joan sessions (I guess in other places they call it fryin/joshin/jonesin/etc) then it was well worth it. 
In the end, my real voice is just a plain mixture of  both my private school upbringing, a Jamaican father, a southern Black mother, and a predominately Black Midwestern neighborhood. Which makes sense on paper. But very few people understand it that way. It’s often easier to imagine things in absolutes. So I’m either expected to behavior thuggishly or as a complete Uncle Tom.  I went off-subject didn’t I?
Nevertheless, I got the part for Andre. A few performances, nominations, and high-profile articles later; the show is still showing me how much of an impact it had on my life. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Jan 16, 2010

*END*

the darkest clockwork...



I’m developing something called the darkest clock work trilogy. It’s going to be my master piece before I move on to other works. They’ll all consist of tragedies/dark comedies that deal with the chaos that is caused when one part of the Black Circle fails or is taken away. Nicole and Anthony deals with the troubles and importance of the Black Woman in our community. Corduroy addresses the part of the Father in the Black community, but not as one would think. The third installation, one that I am currently working on, deals with the importance of the child and what happens to the Black community with the loss of its children. It’s called “..And I will kiss the coldest night.”

Jan 14, 2010

*END*

Broken Hart

An excerpt of one of my earlier versions of “...and Kiss the Cold Goodnight.”
“His soul sleeps tonight. And every night. Until he can reclaim and claim a life that wasn’t his in the first place. But he wants it. He desires this fabricated world that’s falling apart before his eyes. This is the tale of a broken Hart, and his desperate realization that all he believes may simply be unbelievable. So he sleeps. Until these nightmares come to wake. Him. Up.”

interview about nicole and anthony

This is an excerpt from an online interview with the University of San Diego. It’s about a year old. But what’s most important, it was my first ever award I received for playwriting. Fingers crossed – looking up to the sky. The start of many more to come!


Paul Anthony Notice (”Nicole and Anthony”) from Georgetown University is the winner of the 2009 Gaffney Play competition.

Set in Boston and Norfolk, Virginia, “Nicole and Anthony” travels lyrically through time following the life of a freed bi-racial woman–Nicole–as she returns to the chains of modern slavery.  Nicole collides with a collection of men who represent the various faces of American society and her painful interactions with others detonate an acute self-reflection on the haunting inside her.


MARSHALL INSTITUTE Blog
Sponsored by the Marshall Institute and Thurgood Marshall College, UC San Diego. Third Annual Dr. Floyd Gaffney Playwriting Award on the African American Experience: An Interview with Award Winning Playwright Paul A. Notice II
March 31st, 2009


Your award winning play, “NICOLE AND ANTHONY”, experiments with time over many American decades and the transformation of a former slave.  How did you come upon the concept for writing your dramatic story?

At the time, I was reflecting on past relationships that I’ve been in; those both good and bad. I noticed that in many of them the past greatly effected the present. The memories from past relationships often return to shape the individual’s view of the present. In some relationships, it was as if my lover saw me as the reincarnation of her past lovers; and I was judged likewise. I then began to look at this through a larger sense in regards to American society and the Black identity. There were certain stigmas and feelings that have purveyed the Black community across time about certain identities; the educated Black male, light skin, Black militancy, and so on. “Nicole and Anthony” became an attempt to explain where these paradigms might have come about, and why they still exist.

 Do you consider the movement of history in this country to be an upward evolution on race relations and social justice?

Maybe. I’m allowed to attend the same institutions and receive the same public benefits as my fellow White Americans de jure. However, I’m most certainly aware of the de facto segregation and reconfiguration of racial bigotry in this country. Social injustice is an elusive, yet omniscient creature. I have learned that the same problems that have plagued certain communities never truly disappear, but are rather transmogrified into some other vicious animal. Colorism is a perfect example. The rift between Black Americans and higher education is another. However, I have found that in time, we have come to work our way around these issues, despite their permanency.

 How would you describe the character of Nicole living in contemporary times?
Being a cleaning woman during her time was certainly not as lowly a job for Black Americans as it is now. Though still not regarded to that of a physician like Anthony, Nicole’s work would have still pulled some nods of approval from any member of society. She was free, working and law-abiding. Translating this over to contemporary times is hard. In our times, a little more is expected for the Black American, although the three characteristics previously mentioned still have some weight as well. She couldn’t simply be a housemaid anymore, or a custodian. She had to have a job that wasn’t too high up, or too low down. Furthermore, I tried to think of situation wherein Nicole and Anthony would still meet with the same feelings of reservations, mentally acrobats and unabashed curiosity. Moreover, there still had to be that class gap between Anthony and Nicole. Maybe she would be a temp worker waiting for the Metro near Anthony’s office. Maybe she’s a teacher at a nearby high sc hool, and Anthony sits on the board. Whatever the case, the stakes would have to still exist, as well as the prerequisites for Anthony’s “bousiness.” 

What play, film, or novel impacted greatly during your college time at Georgetown?
It’s definitely a tie between the play “The Brother’s Size” by Tarell Alvin McCraney and the film “There Will Be Blood.” Both deal with the condition of the heart, and the extent to which kindness and compassion for others can be pushed. On one hand we see in “The Brother’s Size” the expansion of compassion and the love for others under worsening circumstances. In “There Will Be Blood,” we see the contraction, and subsequent retraction, of this selflessness.          

Could you explain briefly how you became interested in theatre?
It was actually because of a professor I had, Dr. Nadine George-Graves. She simply opened my eyes to a greater world of Black Theatre and Performing Arts that I never knew existed. Her first out-of-class assignment was for students to go see “The Brothers Size.” After the performance, I became addicted to the art of playwriting. 

 A year ago, did you anticipate that Barack Obama could win the national election? 
How do you view his historic rise to the American presidency?
I had been following Barack since his race against Alain Keyes for the Illinois U.S. Senate seat. Even then, I admired his character. Nevertheless, I was wary when he decided to run so soon after his election to the U.S. Senate. I never thought the race would be won so decisively. It came to show that Americans in some part were willing to push aside their differences to face a greater challenge. Regardless, things are still far from perfect, and I do not expect President Obama to cure all social ills in this country.

If you were on a long flight, would you prefer sitting next to Whoopi Goldberg or Chris Rock? 
Chris Rock, though I feel that I’m being unfair since a generational gap keeps me from truly knowing the wit and feel of Whoopi Goldberg. Nevertheless, despite Chris Rock being a comedian, he makes valid and poignant criticisms on American Society albeit in a crude and relaxed way. Sitting next to Chris Rock, I imagine, would be akin to me sitting in a chair at my barbershop. Points are made. Arguments are won. But they are all done with such an air of tongue-in-cheek and relaxation that one can rarely realize the depth of such conversation until it long embedded in the subconscious.

Posted by jmorris Filed in TMC Interviews
Nov 6, 2009
*END*

totley and the halloween night

THE FOLLOWING.. is a stream of consciousness-type prose I wrote in the POV of one of the characters in a new play I’m writing called “Corduroy.” It deals with the dissolution of imperfection in legacy. The character below is Totley.

What losers. Laughing at a bunch of idiots having fun. All because you don’t have the balls to do it. You’re less than them in my book..... Do I smell liquor?

God I love guidos. They’re so fun. Too many people are obsessed with how they look. And their manners. I say that but I’m one of them. That’s why I love beer. It gets rid of your inhibitions. It makes you sooo drunk.

I’ve noticed that in times of stress and distress Black people tend to be with each other. Whether it’s the first day of school. First day at the job, or the Republican national convention.
People are
The same.
Everywhere.
How awesome is this town. Benevido

The Mexicans arrived, then congregated toward the Black folks on account of the drunken guidos. I love those guys. It was about that time they decided to have existential cultural stereotypical moment and leave for Taco Bell. Realizing to irony and yell “Everybody! Party at taco bell.”

The smell of alcohol is everywhere.

I’m ready to party. Rubs shoulders. “Whats the different between a tiger and a fag?”
“Pretty homophobic. ‘S that touchin necessary?”
“Just answer the question ya moot!”
“I don’ know!”
“A tiger wouldn’t let you touch him. Ahhh!”
Everyone.
“Ahhhh, hahaha Drink bitches!”

I love Halloween.

There was something about watch in these guys together that made we feel utterly alone. I just needed to find a home. But I didn’t. I still didn’t screw the frat. That shit’s temporary. I don’t have to drag Malcolm everywhere. I’m going to contact these guys. Fuck it.

One of the guys starts to dance. I love this.

“If he falls off. The train falls off the tracks.”

 Oct 31, 2009
*END*

High Thievery!

I thought about stealing a hub cap from another Volvo once. See my car: is a piece of crap. It wasn’t always that way. In fact it was amazing at one point in time. But because of the company I keep, well, it deteriorated. Fast. People tend not to care a whole lot if the shit isn’t theirs.

Anyway, through a series of circumstances beyond my imagination, it had come upon my misfortune that while out of town during an interview with a quite famous lesbian playwright – of whom I knew nothing about at the time –  that a fellow pledge was borrowing my car for various nefarious activities.

He of course, was a disastrous fool; irresponsible and careless of his consequential effect on other’s blind generosity - which is of course, I found incredibly entertaining up until this point in time. 

In short, it led to the quick rupture of my front left tire. One of which he replaced, but with much difficulty and disservice to me.

It had happened that while I went to fetch the replacing tire for the spare – which too had become flat –  that I left the hubcap from the old tire in the cab on the way to the tire shop. Long ago as it may be, the hubcap was never replaced.

Foolishness, that leads me to think thoughts of treachery and high thievery.

Aug 19, 2009
* END *

the deal

I want my girl back.
..but not without contacts; not without white teeth; not without fresh pussy; not without a backbone; not without her not needing to be babied all the time; not without the ability to be sexy once and a while; not without her living closer to me because long distance flings suck; not without a phat ass; not without fresh breath; not without a huge afro, a real fro not that short rugged carpet she calls a hipster hairstyle; not without her earrings; not without her promising to never joke about being pregnant again; not without her keeping away from her exes; not without her permission; not without her smile; not without her laughter; not without her stupid little jokes that I find too funny; not without her goofiness; not without her oval shaped eyes… not without her ears, not without her two-toned lips, not without her ability to put up with me being just fucking socially awkward…..

I need my ex back.

July 2009
*END*

Saturday, May 08, 2010

calamity in form

Railway. Street cars. Street far. Street star dying on next day’s street. Killing me at the start of this line. This time. Is killing me.


Jul 8, 2009
* END *

busboys and poets

Work… most people do it for the money. It’s an important thing that makes the world go round - money that is. It makes everything come easier. Eating. Sleeping. Fucking. It is truly the elixir of life. 

How is Magic still alive again? 
Oh yeah, money. 
How did Bill Gates get with the super model wife? 
Money. 

Goddamn if it wasn’t the social heart of the individual. We need it to survive. So we think about it. Constantly. Those who don’t have it obsess over getting it. Those who do have it obsess over keeping it. 

By the way. 

Fuck my job.

                                                            Jul 2, 2009
                                                            *END*

late



I am late. To a meeting. God help I hate this metro. I could use the car but… Fuck it. Stay cheap I say. I might smack the kid behind me, if he keeps snorting his nose like that. When is this train going to leave?


Jun 23, 2009
* END *

Thursday, May 06, 2010

being broke in dc



For the past 65 days I’ve been riding the metro for free. It’s easy, just follow someone really close while they’re clocking in, place your wallet over the sensor to mimic your own entry and VoilĂ ! You are now officially granted one free ride courtesy of ...well whoever. The tricky part comes when you’ve reached your destination and you have to exit the station by clocking in your metro card once more. This can pose as a problem when it’s 2:00 in the morning and the only people around are the people leaving or going to their houses or the graveyard shift. But the subways don’t care. Besides, hopping turnstiles is beneath me. I’d just as soon lie. 

Jun 20, 2009
* END *

silence is golden

Sing a song that needs no introduction.
In flight,
I am falling.
But I have fallen.
Silent.
Silent to those who all spoke their name louder than mine. All those seethers, those leeches, those rats who don’t give a damn about their fellow man and would if they could, feed off their neighbor’s flesh.
This is a song for the back stabbers, for heaven knows your fate.

* END *

kall it a komeback

Money.. these are things I need. Things I want. With no means of visible transportation I am caught between the visible landscape of the unseen and the unfortunate. I am petrified: stone made from the dynasties of another man’s destiny. How am I to succeed? By jumping the make. Starting early. I will finish what needs to be finished, and waste not a minute on the meandering thoughts of patient hesitation. I will go. And I will go hard.
                                                                                             Jun 10, 2009           * END *

An old sketch...


“OPENING DOORS”

In the ordinary we simply find the extraordinary. In this episode, The Fire This Time Radio pulls you into the lives of two people, Peace and Time, and their daily ramblings of life and companionship. It is in this that we find how the seemingly abstract elements of feminism and self-worth find themselves in our ordinary, yet extraordinary lives. Take an ear, and listen:

PEACE
No. Shut up. It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia is the best show out there-

TIME
What? Curb Your Enthusiasm!

PEACE
Nay, and you lose. You lose. You lose, and you smell like stupid.

TIME
No I - No I don't.

PEACE
Ah, you're doing it.

TIME
Peace, that last line you said doesn't make even make sense. At all.  I don't understand -

PEACE
You don't have to understand.

TIME
But I -

PEACE
No.

TIME
What?

PEACE
Shhh.

TIME
Peace -

PEACE
Say it. Say I'm right.

TIME
That… you didn't even make a real argument.

PEACE
And....

TIME
I.. My head hurts. You're right.

PEACE
I rest my case. Oh - dang it! Dang ok. Um… Time, do you have your card to swipe in?

TIME
Oh, the GoCard, yeah.

PEACE
Why would you say that? Why would you state the obvious like that?

TIME
I don't know I just..

PEACE
What other card would I use?

TIME
Well, you know the…

PEACE
There's just no other card.

TIME
Well, th- the… Time Card.

PEACE
Time Card? Time- You just put your name in front of the word 'Card.' That's not a real card, Time.

TIME
Well it could be Peace! It could be… And that's why I'm American. Think about that.

PEACE
Please. Please swipe.

TIME
Ok. Here we go. I have the card in my hand. I swipe the card through the - wait it's - it's yellow. Ok again the card in my hand and - there it is, it's green. Green means go. And I open the door for the lady -

PEACE
Oh no. No thank you. I'll just open the door myself.

TIME
What? What, you don't wanna take the open door? C'mon! It's open. Come on in. The water's fine.

PEACE
No. No I'm.. Look it's just that I find a little strange that women have men opening doors for them than women doing the same for them.

TIME
The same what?

PEACE
Opening doors.

TIME
Yeah. Look. I'm opening the door. And you're a woman and I'm a man. See? So there. Now just -

PEACE
No. Time. Look, it's double standard. See? You don't see a lot of women walking around opening doors for men. It's just not as acceptable as the other way around. I mean it's kind of patronizing. I can open my own door, Time.

TIME
Oh.....Well I mean think of it this way: if you respect someone how do you show it? You know? Through your actions! Right?  And just one of those small ways of letting your actions show your respect to someone is through opening the door for them. Especially for women.

PEACE
Why women?

TIME
Because. Because it's just good to show as much respect as possible.

PEACE
Because?

TIME
Because …they don't get a lot of respect, Peace. I mean you still undervalued by society. The whole stay at home and raise a family thing. And you receive less pay on average. That's gotta suck.

PEACE
Ok. Alright Alright. That's true. What else?

TIME
Ummm…

PEACE
What else Time?

TIME
And …society still questions your ability to lead. You know? I mean look at the last primary. Some guys try to say you don't um… think logically or handle tough situations -

PEACE
Do you think that?

TIME
No! No. But um.. I mean think of the way we're supposed to look at women. I mean my boys are my boys but… Does she have to be a hoe?

PEACE
Right. And I love Obama. He's my boy. But you're right: Hillary went through some stuff.

TIME
They both did.

PEACE
Omigod I know! Call it what it is! Sexism! Racism! I mean they try to tell Hillary that she's being oversensitive, but then start crying Sexism when it comes to…

TIME
Who?

PEACE
C'mon Time. You know who.

TIME
Rhymes with Palin?

PEACE
It doesn't rhyme, so you choose another word…

TIME
Right…. Like Dalin.

PEACE
Dalin, is not a word.

TIME
It's a Time word.

PEACE
A what?

TIME
From the Time Card-

PEACE
There is no Time Card!

TIME
You use it to swipe through time -

PEACE
I'm going to my room.


Fin.

never you


It wasn’t you. When I turned my eyes to gaze arise the moonlit rooftop lights of milky after dew, but it wasn’t you that kept my glare ablaze amongst the single tiered steps of an alpha topia. It  wasn’t you, my darling, it wasn’t you…