louise on the left (coast)

20200220_atc_bats_carry_hundreds_of_coronaviruses_that_could_spill_over_to_humans.mp3 I heard this story on NPR the very first week we in California had a Shelter In Place.  And the news of this has haunted me since. All original content property of Louise L. Larsen. Permission required before using material posted here.

Text says,‘A Peanut Kiss Before Dying!’(A play on the title of the Ira Levin Book) Acrylic painting on about 16″X16″ Gallery wrapped stretched canvas so no frame is necessary. THIS IS NOT a piggyback piece but a rare original breen. To bid on this piece, go  HERE. The first inkling I ever had that nuts could be dangerous came to me through the song “Ate a peanut” when I was a toddler. Synopsis: ate a peanut last night, it was rotten, ate it anyway, died, went to heaven. I actually sang this song once while eating peanuts, scrutinizing each one extremely carefully. I’ve always loved nuts and eaten lots and lots of them, yet, the danger was always there, a rotten one. But then again, you could eat any kind of rotten food and get sick or die. When little breen came along I learned all about peanut allergies. I was severely reprimanded for sending the tyke in with a highly toxic p+b sandwich one day, and I always thought the school was over-reacting(until I heard the story you’ll r

Last night I made my way up and out of Orange County to go see Mysterious Skin, written by Prince Gomolvilas now enjoying it's Los Angeles premiere at East West Players. ***Note:  I am not a reviewer.  I am not a critic.  (I married one, which is why I can say with confidence, I am not this.  If you want real reviews of Mysterious Skin  you'll have to look to other publications wise enough to have send their press in to cover this show now running at East West Players.) Me? Currently, I am just an Orange County mom who loves theater almost as much as she loves writing.  (True, I used to act, but now I just "mom."  And I write.  But, again to clarify: Not a critic.) And these her blogged thoughts are just my day-after impressions after having seen some great theater in Los Angeles last night. I have to say, I was in a hurry.  I had my kids to juggle,  too pick up from their schools...Dance classes, etc.  Hustling them home (interesting choice of words, in r

Portrait of the artist: Miriam Margolyes, actor 'I've been very lucky – I've worked consistently and I haven't had to kiss a lot of people on stage' Interview by  Laura Barnett guardian.co.uk , Monday 3 January 2011 21.59 GMT   larger  |  smaller Miriam Margolyes. Photograph: Christopher Thomond for the Guardian What got you started? Me and My Girl Crucible,  Sheffield Until 29 January Box office:  0114 249 6000 Venue website You're born with the performing gene. I was a show-off at school, so it was inevitable I would become an actress. Who or what have you sacrificed for your art? Nothing at all. I have lived an entirely egotistical life, for myself alone. What's the best advice anyone ever gave you? Max Stafford-Clark once told me to "play the opposite". It's about showing a character's layers: when you're playing a happy person, you show them sad; when you're playing an angry p

A little boy died in front of our home this morning. We were home and heard nothing. He was hit by a SUV on his way to school. The police were talking and I heard one tell the other, "So, I heard the driver say, 'he just came out of nowhere.'  Both cops shook their heads. The driver, a woman about 40-50, was sitting in a folding chair about 50 feet away from me surrounded by people who talked with her sympathetically.   When the cops lifted her vehicle off the crushed remains of the bike, now a twisted, metal pancake, she finally stopped talking and stood up.  She turned and looked in the other direction.  There was an unmistakable awkwardness in the group gathered. I couldn't hear what was being said, but it was clear this was a sign to keep moving. She somehow missed seeing him even though she had a both a stop sign and then a wide road to cross before striking him on our street in front of our house. It was almost noiseless to those of us home. He had

7th Grade Intro to Production and Design Integrated Arts Instructor: Mrs. Larsen Tuesdays/Wednesdays  2:15 - 3:30 Block 8 Class Description This course, Introduction to Theatrical Production and Design, is a general overview course covering the basics cornerstones of all design and productions elements which will include learning about all the major aspects of Production Job Descriptions, as well as a basic understanding of the stage and it's Equipment, a brief history and overview of the the stage, the core of designing for a production, including viewing different types of production designs via video and dvd, and a review of the basics regarding stage make up, scenery, costumes, lighting, and sound in a single semester. The class is will be structured to introduce a student to these concepts by using creative projects designed to engage their own imagination in a creative learning approach while being introduced to basic key concepts that all theatrical

Meet Steve. He made this: I've been a huge fan of this artist ever since I first stumbled across this piece a few years ago. But, today I found even more work from the artist along with a video where he shares the great conflict of interests many artists wrestle with: How do you stay true to your artistic vision and still sell art? Well, in his case, he actually uses this dilemma as an opportunity to enlighten those who, outside of his artistic talents, he'd never otherwise be in the same peer group. Pretty cool video. Watch: Steve Lambert explains: It's Time to Fight from Steve Lambert on Vimeo Here's a few other pieces from Lambert I've also really adored. In no order of importance:

THE AWAKENING from ivan friedman on Vimeo .

Carandolet House, Private Runway Show,  with presentation by Albert Elbaz,  November 2011       Alber Elbaz looks on from the podium. The Lanvin team  were lovely and welcoming and I will never have a more treasured fashion memory than this. A night when I was graciously included in the event and not left outside the building until everything is finished and everything's been put away.  So rare for that to happen. Thank you to Monsieur Elbaz, for welcoming some of the parents to the table. I know how very, very unusual occasions like this will be.  You were pure class. Lanvin: Dallas Spring 2012

You have a small window of time left to catch some fine acting in a local theater production of "Lost In Yonkers" at the Costa Mesa Playhouse.  And you really do not want to miss this show. It’s a top-notch cast and moving production of Neil Simon’s nostalgic look backwards at a time when some things might be simpler, but others, like family dynamics, can be complicated.  This play offers a meatier balance between Simon's usual comedy and nostalgia. And by the time the show is over it is clear why it earned him a well-deserved Pulitzer Prize. Most of the action, as  in "Brighton Beach Memoirs," is filtered through the eyes of a teenage boy, in this case, 15-year-old Jay (Jude Henderson) and younger brother, Arty (Vincent Pernia) who is 13 and much more of a smart-aleck than his big brother. Jay struggles to make a trying situation bearable by carrying out his responsibilities with as little push-back and as much duty as he can muster, while A

Just returned from a surprise visit to Vermont in order to celebrate my mother's 70 th birthday with her -- in person. It was not a lengthy trip, just a well-timed one. I flew out on the red-eye Monday night, Los Angeles to Manchester, N.H. and drove straight there so that by high noon on her birthday I could walk up to my parents back door, tap on the window and to prove I had not forgotten that this was "a biggie." To let her know I was really there. Which is precisely what I did. I peered in the window by their back door and could see my mother sitting at the dining room table speaking with someone on the phone, she glanced up at me stared at my shadow at the window. The only indication I had that she recognized was when she dropped her jaw in a familiar, exaggerated manner which I knew meant she realized it was really me out there. I couldn't hear what she was saying on the phone, but watched as she scrambled to find an excuse to hang up as politel

What a summer. A week ago, tonight, my family and I flew back from having saturating ourselves in all the people and places most likely to press my buttons, and the emotional decompression from having spent two weeks with my parents in a place of heartbreaking beauty and intense emotional history for me was almost too much. The trip brought into sudden focus so many shelved dreams and forgotten promises I'd made to myself over the years, that in trying to juggle all the intense feelings that arise from facing one's own historical archetypes, that my emotions had been running so high for so long that, frankly, I was becoming numb after adding jet lag and shlepping kids across country in one day...I was so tired the next day that I almost forgot about the concert I'd insisted we buy tickets to earlier in the summer (Thank you, Neil Ravenna, for setting a fire under my ass for that.) In any event, the day after we got home, my husband and drove back up to Los Angeles to a

Many, many years ago, before there was a 9/11, before there was a Barney's or a Wall Street collapse, or even a Wall Street crash, there was a particularly gritty, yet mostly quite festive place to live, called New York City. This story is not about New York, but it's about a particular dish served a particular night on a biting cold, lightly snowy New Year's Eve when I landed in town upon invitation of a very good friend. who immediately upon arrival invited me out to dinner at a little place near the 4th street station in the Village called The Red Lion Inn. I don't remember too much more about this evening, except that she and her friends were extremely generous and kind and that this evening everything single thing seemed to shine.  Just shine.  Everything.. The air was extremely cold and a snow lightly fell over all of us, all the taxis and thickly-coated pre-party revellers as they  make their way knowingly through the busy streets. After all, I was finall

All original content property of Louise L. Larsen. Permission required before re-posting or using any original material posted.

I've done some non-fiction writing.  And some acting.  And some local Democratic politics. I been published in both  The Orange County Register and Zooey Magazine. I contributed to other blogs, playwright, Prince Gomolvilas's blog,  Bamboo Nation , and the LGBT blog,  The Bilerico Project .  For over two decades I have advocated for those struggling with issues surrounding raising a kid with a peanut allergy. In 2008 I founded the Facebook support group:  Parents Of Kids With A Severe Peanut Allergy , which remains popular and is still growing every day .  On a far different note, I have kept this personal blog:  Louise On The Left   (Coast)  which is part online journal, part personal love-letter to basically anything that grabs my heart: From pop culture, to the arts, to world events.   I first started blogging as a way to stay sane during a contentious Obama election. I could not believe the growing intolerance for LGBTQ legislation evidenced in a sea of y