Welcome to my blog..


"We struggle with dream figures and our blows fall on living faces." Maurice Merleau-Ponty

When I started this blog in 2011, I was in a time of transition in my life between many identities - that of Artistic Director of a company (Apocryphal Theatre) to independent writer/director/artist/teacher and also between family identity, as I discover a new family that my grandfather's name change at the request of his boss in WWII hid from view - a huge Hungarian-Slovak contingent I met in 2011. Please note in light of this the irony of the name of my recently-disbanded theatre company. This particular transition probably began in the one month period (Dec. 9, 2009-Jan. 7, 2010) in which I received a PhD, my 20 year old cat died on my father's birthday and then my father, who I barely knew, died too. I was with him when he died and nothing has been the same since. This blog is tracing the more conscious elements of this journey and attempt to fill in the blanks. I'm also writing a book about my grandmothers that features too. I'd be delighted if you joined me. (Please note if you are joining mid-route, that I assume knowledge of earlier posts in later posts, so it may be better to start at the beginning for the all singing, all dancing fun-fair ride.) In October 2011, I moved back NYC after living in London for 8 years and separated from my now ex-husband, which means unless you want your life upended entirely don't start a blog called Somewhere in Transition. In November 2011, I adopted a rescue cat named Ugo. He is lovely. As of January 2012, I began teaching an acting class at Hunter College, which is where one of my grandmothers received a scholarship to study acting, but her parents would not let her go. All things come round…I began to think it may be time to stop thinking of my life in transition when in June 2012 my stepfather Tom suddenly died. Now back in the U.S. for a bit, I notice, too, my writing is more overtly political, no longer concerned about being an expat opining about a country not my own. I moved to my own apartment in August 2012 and am a very happy resident of Inwood on the top tip of Manhattan where the skunks and the egrets roam in the last old growth forest on the island.

I am now transitioning into being married again with a new surname (Barclay-Morton). John is transitioning from Canada to NYC and as of June 2014 has a green card. So transition continues, but now from sad to happy, from loss to love...from a sense of alienation to a sense of being at home in the world.

As of September 2013 I started teaching writing (composition and rhetoric) as an adjunct professor at Fordham University, which I have discovered I love with an almost irrational passion. So blessed for the opportunity and hope to find a more permanent job doing same.

I worked full time on the book thanks to a successful crowd-funding campaign in May 2014 and completed it at two residencies at Vermont Studio Center and Wisdom House in summer 2015. I have done some revisions and am shopping it around to agents and publishers now, along with having written a rough draft of a new book and some other projects.

Not sure when transition ends, if it ever does. As the saying goes, the only difference between a sad ending and a happy ending is where you stop rolling the film.

For professional information, publications, etc., go to my linked in profile and website for Barclay Morton Editorial & Design. My Twitter account is @wilhelminapitfa. You can find me on Facebook under my full name Julia Lee Barclay-Morton. More about my grandmothers' book: The Amazing True Imaginary Autobiography of Dick & Jani

Recently, I started a website Our Grandmothers, Our Selves, which has stories about many people's grandmothers. Please check it out. I will be blogging there, too, now.


Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Watch out for Rick Santorum

OK, like most people, I had never heard Rick Santorum give a speech until tonight celebrating his Iowa caucus win or near-win.  Now I'm scared.  I thought the Republicans were fielding a bunch of whackos.  Now there's this guy.  He does the whole working class hero grandfather freeing himself from Mussolini/God and guns thing with such a sweet-faced boy scout look - has 6 kids including one little disabled girl, the beautiful wife - the works.  Plus he can say with a straight face, believing he's right that if he cuts corporate tax, manufacturing will come back.  That he cares, really cares.  And he's believable.  I don't even agree with a thing he's saying and I believe him.  Not that he's right but that he believes he's right.  He also equated Obama's healthcare plan with Mussolini's Italy.  Seriously.  And he is a true believer, as in religious believer.  It's no pose, that's clear.  In case any of you are reading this outside of the US, trust me when I tell you that this is very important here in Camp God.

I actually have a spiritual belief system, that I sometimes even use the word God to describe, but this is different.  This is about really, really believing God's doling out the goodies in which some people are closer and further away from said God.  As I'm typing this 99% of the vote is in and Santorum is winning the Iowa Caucus by 5 votes.  As in 5 votes - which means hand written names on glorified post-its thrown into a box.  No shit.  Watch C-SPAN if you don't believe me.

Romney is speaking now and sounds like a cardboard cut-out Ken doll speaking political gobbledegook.  I honestly think after seeing what I've seen tonight that Santorum might win this thing and if he does Obama's got a problem.  Because he's the kind of guy who, to paraphrase John Lennon could smile as he killed.  Because he'd actually believe he was doing God's will.

Romney's sounding stupider by the moment, like a stand-up who's failing in front of a friendly audience.  He's quoting "Oh beautiful for spacious skies" and I wish I could explain how horrendous he sounds.

Why am I writing this?  Because I've seen this script before.  I can only hope that people will see through the slicker Santorum, the boy scout with a dagger behind him.  But, I never have too much faith in the American voting public.

So, whatever personal issues I was or could have written about have been obliterated by this spectacle of the Reagan mini-me, who ended his speech with Hard Day's Night.

Okay Occupiers...ready, aim...occupy these Republican primaries...before we drink the Kool-Aid one more time...

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