Paul Michael Glaser posted an update on his FaceBook page
www(dot)facebook(dot)com/Paul-M-Glaser-288563974495222/?hc_ref=NEWSFEED&fref=nf
I'm pasting the text here (without permission, but I hope Mr. G doesn't mind) for those without FB access:
Dated Nov. 3, 2016
Where have I been?
That's a question I have been asking myself for a while now. It seems that I not only found my sketching and painting as a new creative outlet for myself, abut also a great way to hide.
I am still technically challenged and have an aversion to what is clearly not only the norm for living in this world, but also the best way to communicate with more than one person at a time. However, I have come to question my romanticized version of hermitage. I say 'romantic' because I have often cited it as my excuse for not participating, or putting myself out there. Recently I have come to understand more about myself with regard to this withdrawal, and while I shall undoubtedly resist a full on " you can catch me on Facebook, Twitter, etc." I have read enough posts from disappointed followers, that I feel I must share my thoughts.
First, let me say that I am sorry to have left so many hanging.
When I was one week from opening night on my tour of 'Fiddler on the Roof, I experienced an occlusion to the veins surrounding the optic nerve of my left eye that resulted in permanently losing my sight in that eye. The doctors couldn't advise whether or not to go on with what was going to be a grueling tour. I decided that 'you only live once,' and continued with the tour.
Six months after I returned to the States, I realized the degree to which I had suppressed my reaction to losing half my sight.' The show had to go on' and that, at some subconscious level, doing the tour was easier than acknowledging how this event had rocked me. When I realized how much this brush with my mortality had effected me, and how much I had suppressed. It was quite an eye opener, (no pun intended). However, it wasn't until recently that I realized how it had continued to affect me.
Before starting the tour, my daughter Zoe had suggested that I try my hand at illustrating my second book, 'Hookfoot and Peg,' and that was my alternate pet project as we started rehearsals. Soon I was sketching and painting whenever I could, and when I got bored with the illustrations, I'd try other ideas. I used to draw and paint when I was a student, and had let that lapse, and now I was discovering a whole new outlet for my creativity. I could sit by myself and create to my heart's content. When I returned state-side, I immersed myself deeper and deeper in my art, and was able to learn, grow, and create a body of work.
However, this also became a trap, for it allowed me to hide. As is fairly well documented in the interviews I have done over the years. I have always shunned the spotlight, preferring to see myself as more 'serious' an artist than just a celebrity. And while I was very sensitive to allowing 'celebrity' to cloud my perception, (and still am), what I didn't realize is that a good deal of this sensitivity was my fear that I wasn't enough, that I was only being celebrated for what others needed me to be.
Those interviews became a frustration in trying to communicate 'who' I really was. My introspection and need to understand and explain myself was often misinterpreted as my complaining about being famous, when as people often said; " hey, what's he talking about, that's what he wanted."
Yes. When I was younger, that is what I wanted, tho even then I was in denial, telling my actor friends in NYC that i'd never live in L.A.....I'd go there for a gig, but I wouldn't 'sell out' to fame and fortune. Then, Norman Jewison flew me out to the West Coast for a screen test for 'Fiddler on the Roof, and the first thing I did before leaving NYC was to go and buy a pair of white loafers. I didn't realize the symbolism of those white shoes and their connection to my hidden fantasy of becoming a star until S&H hit and I had become the next best thing since sliced bread.
Then my journey with loss and helplessness ensued as I lost my daughter and wife, went through a lot of anger and rage and depression, then came out 'the other side' with a whole new perspective on life. Thanks to a wonderful teacher, I was very lucky not only to have survived, but to have learned so much and developed a philosophy of awareness and compassion, parts of which I have shared, a philosophy that I try to practice every waking moment.
However, 'learning' is a strange thing. One you feel you have learned something, the Universe has a way of offering you the opportunity at a yet higher lesson. And while I had learned so much about my own sense of loss and helplessness with my family's tragedy, it had been Elizabeth and Ari's mortality that I had dealt with, not my own brush with the same. Losing my vision in one eye became my brush with mortality, and while not being 'terminal,' was enough to cause me to revisit my core insecurities.
Not being aware of this at the time, I hid. (interesting that the role of Tevye was easily the best thing I have ever acted). I threw myself into my art and for two years, have done nothing but that.
Now I have a body of work and it's time to go 'out there,' and once again I am being reminded of that fear. At times it is palpable.
And as much as I don't want to give it too much weight or importance, I obviously feel it is necessary to not only identify it but also act on it. Ergo, this sharing and attempt to 'put myself out there.'
I still enjoy acting, though there are very few roles or opportunities when you reach a certain age. I miss directing - even less opportunities, my writing will probably continue once I have finished the 'Hookfoot' illustrations, and I am still working towards an art show. I have a website at Exhibbit(dot)com which should be up soon if it isn't already. It's entitled 'Act III.'
All else is well. Lord Fauntleroy is still chasing squirrels and has taken to 'talking' to me whenever he wants something. He's also became a thorn in the side of a few neighborhood dogs who he has taken a dislike to. He says......uh, wait a second, I'll let him say it himself.
Woof! I'm baaaaack! It's taken forever to get PMG to let me say hello. I'm 6 1/2, almost 7 human years old now, and still beautiful. What can I say? Modesty has never been my strong suit. Hey, if the shoe fits, wear it. The coat is shiny, teeth white, and I've taken to eating blue corn chips, with salt please. I like the way they go 'crunch' in my mouth. However, I don't like that tomato hummus stuff PMG puts on them. He has some strange tastes.
I've gained a little, (just a little) weight. PMG has lost a lot, as he keeps telling me. The neighborhood is now filled with dogs. Some I tolerate, others I just ignore. There's this Great Dane that keeps pouncing around trying to get me to play with him, but one false move with those logs he calls paws and I'd be a gonner.
There are still too many squirrels. They're getting really nervy, standing upside down on the tree trunks, inches away from my highest jump. It's their incessant chatter,' and waving their tails in my face that is really annoying. I give them 'what for' and then PMG pulls me away before I go really nuts. I don't understand squirrels. Really. It's like they were put on this earth to annoy me.
PMG doesn't care. He points out the ones that I don't see even though he knows full well that being on a leash prevents me from catching them.
Okay...that's enough. I didn't know I was going to get access to the computer. I've gotten a bit rusty with my typing.
So long, or 'woof' as PMG says.
I'm pasting the text here (without permission, but I hope Mr. G doesn't mind) for those without FB access:
Dated Nov. 3, 2016
Where have I been?
That's a question I have been asking myself for a while now. It seems that I not only found my sketching and painting as a new creative outlet for myself, abut also a great way to hide.
I am still technically challenged and have an aversion to what is clearly not only the norm for living in this world, but also the best way to communicate with more than one person at a time. However, I have come to question my romanticized version of hermitage. I say 'romantic' because I have often cited it as my excuse for not participating, or putting myself out there. Recently I have come to understand more about myself with regard to this withdrawal, and while I shall undoubtedly resist a full on " you can catch me on Facebook, Twitter, etc." I have read enough posts from disappointed followers, that I feel I must share my thoughts.
First, let me say that I am sorry to have left so many hanging.
When I was one week from opening night on my tour of 'Fiddler on the Roof, I experienced an occlusion to the veins surrounding the optic nerve of my left eye that resulted in permanently losing my sight in that eye. The doctors couldn't advise whether or not to go on with what was going to be a grueling tour. I decided that 'you only live once,' and continued with the tour.
Six months after I returned to the States, I realized the degree to which I had suppressed my reaction to losing half my sight.' The show had to go on' and that, at some subconscious level, doing the tour was easier than acknowledging how this event had rocked me. When I realized how much this brush with my mortality had effected me, and how much I had suppressed. It was quite an eye opener, (no pun intended). However, it wasn't until recently that I realized how it had continued to affect me.
Before starting the tour, my daughter Zoe had suggested that I try my hand at illustrating my second book, 'Hookfoot and Peg,' and that was my alternate pet project as we started rehearsals. Soon I was sketching and painting whenever I could, and when I got bored with the illustrations, I'd try other ideas. I used to draw and paint when I was a student, and had let that lapse, and now I was discovering a whole new outlet for my creativity. I could sit by myself and create to my heart's content. When I returned state-side, I immersed myself deeper and deeper in my art, and was able to learn, grow, and create a body of work.
However, this also became a trap, for it allowed me to hide. As is fairly well documented in the interviews I have done over the years. I have always shunned the spotlight, preferring to see myself as more 'serious' an artist than just a celebrity. And while I was very sensitive to allowing 'celebrity' to cloud my perception, (and still am), what I didn't realize is that a good deal of this sensitivity was my fear that I wasn't enough, that I was only being celebrated for what others needed me to be.
Those interviews became a frustration in trying to communicate 'who' I really was. My introspection and need to understand and explain myself was often misinterpreted as my complaining about being famous, when as people often said; " hey, what's he talking about, that's what he wanted."
Yes. When I was younger, that is what I wanted, tho even then I was in denial, telling my actor friends in NYC that i'd never live in L.A.....I'd go there for a gig, but I wouldn't 'sell out' to fame and fortune. Then, Norman Jewison flew me out to the West Coast for a screen test for 'Fiddler on the Roof, and the first thing I did before leaving NYC was to go and buy a pair of white loafers. I didn't realize the symbolism of those white shoes and their connection to my hidden fantasy of becoming a star until S&H hit and I had become the next best thing since sliced bread.
Then my journey with loss and helplessness ensued as I lost my daughter and wife, went through a lot of anger and rage and depression, then came out 'the other side' with a whole new perspective on life. Thanks to a wonderful teacher, I was very lucky not only to have survived, but to have learned so much and developed a philosophy of awareness and compassion, parts of which I have shared, a philosophy that I try to practice every waking moment.
However, 'learning' is a strange thing. One you feel you have learned something, the Universe has a way of offering you the opportunity at a yet higher lesson. And while I had learned so much about my own sense of loss and helplessness with my family's tragedy, it had been Elizabeth and Ari's mortality that I had dealt with, not my own brush with the same. Losing my vision in one eye became my brush with mortality, and while not being 'terminal,' was enough to cause me to revisit my core insecurities.
Not being aware of this at the time, I hid. (interesting that the role of Tevye was easily the best thing I have ever acted). I threw myself into my art and for two years, have done nothing but that.
Now I have a body of work and it's time to go 'out there,' and once again I am being reminded of that fear. At times it is palpable.
And as much as I don't want to give it too much weight or importance, I obviously feel it is necessary to not only identify it but also act on it. Ergo, this sharing and attempt to 'put myself out there.'
I still enjoy acting, though there are very few roles or opportunities when you reach a certain age. I miss directing - even less opportunities, my writing will probably continue once I have finished the 'Hookfoot' illustrations, and I am still working towards an art show. I have a website at Exhibbit(dot)com which should be up soon if it isn't already. It's entitled 'Act III.'
All else is well. Lord Fauntleroy is still chasing squirrels and has taken to 'talking' to me whenever he wants something. He's also became a thorn in the side of a few neighborhood dogs who he has taken a dislike to. He says......uh, wait a second, I'll let him say it himself.
Woof! I'm baaaaack! It's taken forever to get PMG to let me say hello. I'm 6 1/2, almost 7 human years old now, and still beautiful. What can I say? Modesty has never been my strong suit. Hey, if the shoe fits, wear it. The coat is shiny, teeth white, and I've taken to eating blue corn chips, with salt please. I like the way they go 'crunch' in my mouth. However, I don't like that tomato hummus stuff PMG puts on them. He has some strange tastes.
I've gained a little, (just a little) weight. PMG has lost a lot, as he keeps telling me. The neighborhood is now filled with dogs. Some I tolerate, others I just ignore. There's this Great Dane that keeps pouncing around trying to get me to play with him, but one false move with those logs he calls paws and I'd be a gonner.
There are still too many squirrels. They're getting really nervy, standing upside down on the tree trunks, inches away from my highest jump. It's their incessant chatter,' and waving their tails in my face that is really annoying. I give them 'what for' and then PMG pulls me away before I go really nuts. I don't understand squirrels. Really. It's like they were put on this earth to annoy me.
PMG doesn't care. He points out the ones that I don't see even though he knows full well that being on a leash prevents me from catching them.
Okay...that's enough. I didn't know I was going to get access to the computer. I've gotten a bit rusty with my typing.
So long, or 'woof' as PMG says.