Confessions of a Former Barista

Coffee lovers, prepare to throw your tomatoes:

In 2018-2019, I worked at a bustling Starbucks in the heart of downtown Portland, Oregon, right across the street from City Hall. At that time, there was a bit of pride to being a Starbucks worker, especially so close to headquarters and the original store in Seattle–this was also, arguably, their peak social awareness era, famously shutting down their stores for a day in order to facilitate anti-discrimination training, following a very public racially-motivated incident in Philadelphia earlier that year. (Since then, unfortunately, Starbucks as a corporation has made more and more unfortunate decisions, and I gladly support the baristas currently attempting to unionize and improve circumstances.)

I spent many, many mornings parallel-parking my huge hand-me-down Chevy Silverado in downtown Portland at 4:30AM, running the peak opening shift from 5-9, and then somehow taking a nap and then doing rehearsals/performances of Mamma Mia! in the evenings until after 11PM… and I still managed to avoid caffeine addiction, despite all the free espresso. I was never the fastest at the bar, but I held my own, even when making Mike’s horrible 4-shots-espresso-4-pumps-mocha-4-pumps-white-mocha-heavy-cream-no-ice-iced-latte on repeat. This was also the era of the keto diet, so everyone was convinced a heavy cream latte was better for them than their usual soy vanilla… oy vey.

Anyway, credentials verified: confession time.

These days, I start my day with french-press black coffee, sometimes with a splash of cold oat milk.

I don’t make the coffee, my husband does. He’s never been a barista.

When I inevitably forget about my coffee long enough for it to go tepid, I top it off with whatever is left in the french press (which, awkwardly for our household, only brews three cups’ worth).

If the press is empty and we decide we need more, I just sprinkle fresh grounds on top of what’s already there, and re-brew as-is.

If the press is empty but my coffee is cold, I just turn on the electric kettle, and top up my cup with hot water, weakening the coffee.

If I forget the coffee until cold multiple times, I will continue topping it off with hot water, until it is a weak facsimile of what it used to be, basically brown hot water, and this continues in perpetuity, sometimes until the very end of the day.

We actually have an espresso machine that came with our apartment, and I haven’t learned to use it yet. It’s been 8 months.

Even though I CAN make an excellent coconut-mocha-latte-with-cinnamon-steamed-in, I don’t.

Coffee connoisseurs, I’m aware I commit several unforgivable sins daily. But in the end, the most barista-ish coffee order to have is simply coffee you don’t have to make yourself.

“Black Market Inspiration,” a Short Play

In January of 2020 (I know, right?) I was suddenly possessed by a weird little idea.

This happens to me fairly often, but the various ideas are rarely similar to one another. It’s always a moment of zingy clarity, like taking the first sip of an icy lemonade. It’s like a chilled refreshment arriving to solve a nagging thirst you weren’t even quite aware of yet.

In any case, this idea was a script. A snappy 10-minute two-hander of a play, in which the dialogue changes every performance–and no, it’s not improvised.

It was a typical late January day in Denver, Colorado: shallow drifts of tired snow draped the landscape, and nobody felt like doing just about anything, myself included. As a long-time Pinterest devotee, I was scrolling my feed, swiping away the crafts and clothes in favor of something a little less tangible: motivation. The wise and successful among us have published plenty of pithy proverbs over the years, and I was in dire need of inspiration. No quote quite encapsulated what I needed to feel in order to get going, however, and I kept searching, searching, searching for more.

That escalation of need, in which nothing you encounter is quite enough for you, and where there is a sort of substance that acts a substitute for genuine meaning… that reminded me of something else, which perhaps you might buy in a back alley somewhere. Stereotypically speaking.

Thus was born Black Market Inspiration, a play about the moment between inspiration and action, about when motivational quotes are just chronic avoidance in a pretty, prose-y package. There are two characters, a seller and a buyer, and lots of little plastic baggies full of white stuff–you know, little scrolls of white paper with quotes printed on them!

I wrote the whole thing in a day (admittedly… it is only 10 minutes long). And while the initial idea was the driving force, I’m equally delighted by what I would call the script mechanics of the piece: the script is made up of about 60% attributed quotes, and only a few of those are designed to remain static in every production of this play. The rest of the play can (and in my opinion, should) be memorized in terms of structure. This means the actor can then organically, in the moment, pull and read random quotes that are on the prop scrolls, and still be able to maintain the rising and falling action of the play. The script notes how to accomplish this, in context, via staging directions.

I chose to incorporate this element of unpredictability specifically because this is a PLAY, intended to be performed live. Sure, there’s a polished version that could be an excellent short film, and maybe I’ll experiment in that direction sometime, but the final product would lose all the charm of idiosyncratic experience, which is what live theater is all about. What an audience deserves is consistency, but what it wants is something one-of-a-kind, unrepeatable. This is why so many people love when something goes just a little bit wrong onstage, or why concert-goers collect set lists. There is magic (and marketability, now that you mention it) when you can combine consistent performance with a little bit of controlled mystery.

I have always loved when shows are able to tap into this unique energy; two examples from my musical-theatre-brain are The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee, and The Mystery of Edwin Drood. Both of these pieces utilize planned chaos: Spelling Bee brings up audience members to “compete,” and Drood, with the original novel left unfinished by author Charles Dickens, allows the audience to vote between several possible endings. This is by no means a new strategy, but I find it’s an important and delightful way to distinguish the value of live performance separately from recorded media.

So, I mentioned I wrote this in 2020, and it’s currently 2025… you may be wondering what happened between then and now.

I submitted it to a few short play competitions, and then the pandemic hit, and I let my nicely formatted document slumber in my Dropbox for four years. Then, in the summer of ’24, my director friend Catherine posted on Instagram, looking for playwright collaborators to submit to a competition/festival at AMT Theater in NYC. I happened to see her post, nearly submitted my script too late, and completely forgot about it afterwards, expecting another rejection. I was totally surprised to be informed that it had been selected after all, for the New Works Development Festival at AMT. My little kindergarten-age script would finally ~~learn to read~~ receive a reading.

That reading took place in August 2024, and I actually had the wherewithal to record it. The chutzpah to edit and publish, however, only arrived last week. Enjoy!

With enormous thanks to AMT Theater and my terrific team:
DIRECTOR: Catherine Gold
PERSON 1: Zoë Reeve
PERSON 2: Max Carlson

Social Media, the Attention Economy, Art, and Ethics

I have a fraught relationship with Social Media.

It’s wonderful to be able to keep tabs on long-distance friends and relatives, to be able to share thoughts and photos instantly… but it also feels like a moral failing, contributing my labor (however minuscule) to the Attention Economy: allowing Meta, or TikTok, or Twitter, to profit from my ability and desire to communicate and connect with others.

I certainly haven’t always felt this way. I was in 8th grade in 2008, and I vividly remember borrowing my mom’s work BlackBerry for hours after school, sorting through the mobile-incompatible pages to look at Facebook “flair.” We didn’t have regular internet in our home until after I had gone to college, but I still somehow managed to post a LOT of unfiltered, deliciously cringy Millennial-era content on Facebook, which I’m slowly deleting even now. Instagram followed thereafter, and I joyously posted grainy food pics and selfies along with some of the earliest adopters. Twitter was, controversially, my favorite, because I loved reading everyone’s quippy “live-tweeted” thoughts.

This was before those platforms changed, removing chronological feeds, and monetizing via (even more) ads, shopping, and subscription “verification.” This was before I knew what an algorithm was. This was before “meta” was Meta, before Elon Musk bought Twitter, before ChatGPT and Sora, before I had read Digital Minimalism by Cal Newport, before doomscrolling.

The fact of the matter is, Social Media has led us into a new economic model: the Attention Economy. Just like how printed newspapers sell ad space inside, based on their readership, so too can online platforms; the difference is that a newspaper ends on a daily basis, and a website can be endless. Social Media sites earn more money the more time that viewers spend perusing them, and so they are financially incentivized to make those platforms as time-absorbingly addictive as possible–and they do. These platforms have increasingly homogenized, and these days they all operate exactly like slot machines: you never know what each swipe or scroll may bring, and you’ll never get the same page curated twice. Personalized algorithms create bubbles of feedback which uncritically reinforce our views and increase social divisions. The barrier of the internet lets some people feel safe to bully and harass, protected by distance and anonymity. Bot farms produce hundreds of thousands of comments, which can be inflammatory, misleading, or both. Now AI muddles our perception of reality, throwing additional confusion into a time period where “Truth” is both a Social Media platform and a vicious debate. Perhaps worst of all, the Attention Economy steals our time, energy, motivation, dreams, while we barely notice it.

In a society where the average person already makes too little money, the Attention Economy preys upon the last possible resource we have to give: our time. We freely contribute to this maelstrom, in the hopes of getting a tiny fraction of that attention back–in the form of business traffic, outside validation, or internet fame–but there’s no guaranteed return on investment, and the cost is steep. In recent years, more and more studies on Social Media’s effects on us have come out: we know that our attention spans are shortening, our tolerance for mental discomfort is lessening, our memories are suffering, and our collective social stress is through the roof. Unsurprisingly, the same billionaires who head these platforms keep screens away from their own children, sending them to analog schools and keeping their faces offline. Through Social Media use, our self-perception warps, leading to decreased self-esteem, body image issues, and such dystopian trends as “Instagram face.” The popularity of AI has made all of these issues exponentially worse, from the spread of misinformation and scams to increasingly unattainable self-expectations.

“So, Franny, it sounds like you just hate Social Media.”

Well, no. On the bright side, Social Media is in many ways a great equalizer in terms of connection and opportunity, and has completely changed the game when it comes to operating a business and generating publicity. It has enabled thousands of ordinary voices to be heard, artworks to be shared, and vital news and information to be transferred, all faster than ever before.

Herein lies the personal conflict: I’m an artist. I write, paint, take photos, sing, perform. An artist’s job is to share their art, therefore, I must publish my work: moreover, I believe in increasing access to art as a whole. Because of the way the world has developed, these platforms continue to be the most accessible way to share a message or image with others, and to grow a community. If you are hoping to communicate an idea quickly and/or internationally, Social Media is perhaps the poor communicator’s only option.

This instant globalizing prowess has always been the charm and value of Social Media, but as it currently stands, when I myself am trying to cut down on a doomscrolling habit that I’m sure has negatively impacted my life, is it reasonable to ask others to keep scrolling for MY content? It’s the same reason I was a terrible salesperson back when I worked on commission at the makeup counter at Kohl’s: how could I possibly ethically persuade someone to buy a product, when I couldn’t afford it, myself? I may not have known a customer’s financial situation, but I know for sure they didn’t need a $50 eyeshadow palette… and it has always felt predatory to pretend otherwise.

I stopped posting as actively on Social Media back in November 2020, when that USA election cycle, combined with the COVID-19 pandemic, proved that every online disagreement was fruitless (at least at that time). I deleted Twitter the day it was sold. I wiped my TikTok profile earlier this year. And yet, despite my own choices, I am still scrolling, and still susceptible to twinges of envy when I see others freely, seemingly guiltlessly, sharing.

This blog, The Franifesto, is in part a manifestation of this frustration: I wanted a place of my own, where my opinions are less likely to be subject to censorship and algorithm, where I can post any amount of any kind of media, structure it any way I like, and control my narrative… but, of course, it completely lacks that magical element of community. It seems I must share more consistently on those flawed, established, popular, annoying platforms, but I worry about the hypocrisy of doing so. Posting there seems to puncture my points.

In the end, I know it’s not my job to make the choice for others whether and what they consume, and how much. Why not my work? Has my microscopic protest withheld anything from those in power? Or just from myself?

Paradoxically, the ability to incite change in this unsatisfactory system will almost certainly require participating within it.

Perhaps it’s enough to be aware of the conflict, acknowledge it, and make a post to talk about it. Perhaps it’s enough to ask other artists, and other doomscrollers, what they think. Perhaps it’s enough to simply use what tools we have, while they exist.

So: what are you doing, about/with/for/against/because of Social Media?

Lately, I’ve been:

Implementing a weekly no-scroll day (Wednesdays for me. If I accidentally start, I just stop as soon as I realize.)
Trying to limit my scrolling to ~2 hours or less a day. (Shamefully difficult.)
Trying to engage with Social Media intentionally (such as actively liking my friends’ content, amplifying speakers from historically underrepresented groups, sharing important information, advocating for causes).
Engaging in long-form attention habits (meditation, studying a new language, reading books, creative hobbies).
“Create more than consume.” Of course the creative cycle requires consuming new media, knowledge, connections, inspiration, but it’s easy to get out of balance if you never synthesize what you’re consuming into something new. (Digest it, if you will, or you’ll end up creatively… blocked.)

All this to say… take a scroll break. Unless you like my work. In that case, I guess, take a break after you’re done reading. 🖤

NEW! Online Course: How I Became Successful: How to Teach an Online Course & Sell Newsletters Available Now

[Image: mirror selfie of young woman in a black bikini, who appears to be at a resort]

People have been asking me for ages now; “you’ve gotten incredibly successful. How did you do it?”

Well, here’s how.

“Your Instagram is amazing! How are you doing so great?”

I’ll tell you!

“You’re going so many places! How can you afford all that?”

You want to know! So I made this online course, “How I Became Successful: How to Teach an Online Course & Sell Newsletters,” exclusively for all of you, to finally really explain how it’s done.

[Image: photo of a dusty chalkboard ripped from Google Images, uncredited]

You know I’m successful, because I show it off all the time. It’s obvious in every coyly-smiling mirror selfie. I love sharing my life with you online! You always know what I’m up to: mirror selfie while shopping, mirror selfie at the Italian restaurant, mirror selfie from three months ago when I looked really skinnyyyy and took pics in three different bikinis (and I haven’t worn them since).

But enough about me and how you see me all the time. We’re here to talk about “How I Became Successful: How to Teach an Online Course & Sell Newsletters,” an entirely different and serious topic.

When thinking of the best, most efficient way to tackle “How I Became Successful: How to Teach an Online Course & Sell Newsletters,” I originally wanted to share this gold mine of information on social media with the rest of my content, for free. By the people, for the people! However, it quickly became clear that “How I Became Successful: How to Teach an Online Course & Sell Newsletters” was just too big of an idea. I just can’t do justice to it on Instagram, or TikTok, or even YouTube.

So, we (my super talented and large production team that I definitely hired and I, obviously) made the incredibly difficult decision that all six hours of this vital content should be made available to you individually and directly, on Vimeo, with a one-time-use passcode. It’s simply the best way forward, for the sake of my content and for your learning experience.

[Image: a grid of four video screenshots from “How I Became Successful: How to Teach an Online Course & Sell Newsletters”]

The four separate hour-and-a-half lectures took days to complete, as I found more and more roundabout ways of sharing the true message of “How I Became Successful: How to Teach an Online Course & Sell Newsletters.” I can hardly express how electrifying it was, speaking into that ring light and imagining how many of you would pay to watch this, and hopefully be truly inspired by the things you learn in “How I Became Successful: How to Teach an Online Course & Sell Newsletters.” What a dream!

I pre-recorded each lesson, so I would never have to try to teach this course ever again; I just know I could never replicate the things I said for these lessons. I was full of it–full of love and hope and joy–and I know it will infuse you when you experience your first-and-only binge-watch of “How I Became Successful: How to Teach an Online Course & Sell Newsletters.” In fact, I have a special little story to tell only you, dear newsletter readers, about what happened while filming “Lesson Two: How Two, The Next Step Up.” It’s about our camerawoman. And don’t worry, I totally have permission to share this story!!!

[Image: a blurry vertical photo of a young woman in a black sweatshirt, standing in a corner of the room]

We had just been through two hours of grueling filming. My notecards got messed up, and I could not figure out what order my outline was supposed to be in! Was it “Success” first, or “Online Course” first? It sometimes makes me laugh that I still get things like that mixed up. It just goes to show, even an expert in the field like me can still get a little jumbled, and that’s okay.

I had finally fixed my notecards, and we were on take number one when I heard a small sniffle. Was that me? No: I breathed deeply through my nose; I was feeling fine. Maybe someone else in the room…?

Another sniffle. I looked beyond the iPhone screen perched in the middle of the ring light, beyond my own glowing face, and there was another face. Of course, I thought to myself, how could I forget Jessica the camerawoman?

“Why are you sniffling? If I can hear it, the camera heard it.” I asked, with care.

Jessica sniffed. “Oh sorry yeah, this morning I mentioned I had a cold–?”

“Well there’s toilet paper in the bathroom.” I said in a nice way.

Jessica sniffed. “Yeah I have sumb.” (***Author’s Note: I spelled “some” like sumb in order to mimic her stuffy-nose sound, and I think the effect turned out rather nicely.)

“I won’t pay you if I can hear your sniffles.” I cautioned gently, trying to anticipate her needs.

Jessica sniffed louder. “I mean, that’s not–you need me, I’m the only one here–“

“Well put a blanket over your head or something, and sit in the corner.” I said generously.

And she did. And she cried tears of joy; I could tell, because there were a lot more sniffles afterwards, but the camera really didn’t catch them anyway. But if you somehow notice them in “Lesson Two: How Two, The Next Step Up,” you know who to blame lol!!

[Image: illustration of a sunrise ripped from Google Images, uncredited]

And I had learned something, too. I realized that I needed her, my invaluable intern, camerawoman Jessica. And she needed me! Otherwise, she wouldn’t be there, especially when sick! In an amazing way, all humans need each other. Since this incident happened late last week, I’ve come to understand this newsletter-exclusive story is actually the heart of “How I Became Successful: How to Teach an Online Course & Sell Newsletters.” In a way, it reflects my character.

DON’T FORGET! Subscriptions to the newsletter, “How to Succeed: I’ll Tell You How, One Article at a Time” will be increasing in price from $13.98 to $18.98 next month! These two-and-a-half articles per month are done for FREE by me, and my only means of support is the LLC that nets all of the subscription and online order funds, so ALSO don’t forget to tip me on Venmo (link here) & CashApp (link here) for sharing this important knowledge for free on the internet! I believe in supporting your community! I support my community–will you support me? As a special deal, if you lock in your newsletter subscription NOW, it will only increase to $17.98 for the first three months!! It’s truly the best deal available!

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Okay, sorry, necessary promotion out of the way! I hate having to self-promote, but it’s a necessary evil in this industry. In fact, there’s potentially a whole sub-section on self-promotion in “How I Became Successful: How to Teach an Online Course and Sell Newsletters” … or is there? You’ll have to watch to find out! I can’t give it all away for free!

[Image: an AI-generated photo of a forest with glowing trees]

Well, now you know a little more about “How I Became Successful: How to Teach an Online Course & Sell Newsletters.” It’s my labor of love, really a love letter to all of you, my supporters. You’ve been asking me for more substance for so long, so I know you won’t be disappointed by the opportunity to have an entire prerecorded course, all to yourself! In it, I get more real than I have ever been before–you’ll see me scramble for more words than I’m used to having to say all at one time about one subject. It gets raw at points. I won’t pretend that a significant portion, some would say most, of “Lesson Four: Be-Four it’s Over, a Look Back” isn’t a daring experiment with silence in an online class setting. I stand by my bold choice to let the class sit and dwell on the course, fully absorbing what they learned, for 51 minutes. It’s like Shavasana for your brain–consider how many mental gymnastics you were just doing!

My first cohort of seedlings (that’s how we refer to students in the “How I Became Successful: How to Teach an Online Course & Sell Newsletters” formal teaching tradition) will start receiving their one-time-access codes in just three months! Be sure to sign up NOW, because the price is changing from $678.00 to $942.00 gradually over the next 60 days, in 10% value installments! Every six days, the brand-new course will gain $26.40 in value, so the price just reflects this value shift as the information becomes less exclusive and more people are talking about it! If this confuses you, please place an order for “How I Became Successful: How to Teach an Online Course & Sell Newsletters” now–I sort-of-kind-of explain this kind of income system, and others.

Every cohort of seedlings will also want to sign up for our newsletter “How to Succeed: I’ll Tell You How, One Article at a Time” in order to access the three vital and exclusive discussion questions for “How I Became Successful: How to Teach an Online Course & Sell Newsletters.” You simply can’t travel the full journey without those thought-stirring questions. It might change your life.

[Image: photo of the author’s bookshelf: it is mostly contemporary dark romance and clickbait self-help books]

I’ll add another teaser to the next newsletter: is there a page-turner ahead? What if I told you there was a BOOK deal in the works? Would you accuse me of making up a rumor about myself in order to raise interest for “How I Became Successful: How to Teach an Online Course & Sell Newsletters”? Of course not! Amazon lets anybody publish! But I’m not anybody, so I’m actually publishing a book for real, with a major publishing house I contractually cannot discuss yet, who are going to help me rig the NYT Bestseller List. The next newsletter will have an extra-special partial work-in-progress chapterette of the foreword! I’m thrilled to be sharing this little preview only with my dear newsletter audience.

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Unfortunately, I can only write these letters for so long before I’m totally mentally spent, and I must recover by lounging in the sun. Here’s another of those skinnyyyy bikini pics from three months ago (and I actually edited this one too, with ChatGPT, but I know you can’t tell). It’s been another successful day. Isn’t that amazing?

[Image: mirror selfie of young woman in a green bikini, who appears to be at a resort, but is actually at her parents’ upstate beach house]

Until next time, my gritty little pearls~~~

DON’T FORGET! “How I Became Successful: How to Teach an Online Course & Sell Newsletters” is AVAILABLE NOW! My newsletter readers get the exclusive first announcement, roughly 24 minutes ahead of my Instagram followers, which is how much time it takes me to pick out 4-6 awkwardly hot photos for a curated photo dump announcement! Buy NOW! Don’t waste your precious time!

[Button: “Order HIBS:HTTAOC&SN Now!]

Toodles,

-XXX

We hope you’ve enjoyed your free one-week preview of “How to Succeed: I’ll Tell You How, One Article at a Time.” Your trial subscription will automatically transfer to a paid subscription in 17 hours. Archived articles can be read online in full two days after email delivery. But don’t you want to stay 48 hours ahead of the slightly-more-poors?

Zephyr: The West Wind Blows

ZEPHYR: an elegant and zesty word, derived from the name of the Greek god of the western wind (Zephyros), known in English as a warm breeze that ushers in the summertime, and also in some Russian-speaking countries as a tasty marshmallow-meringue-like confection.

As of May 12, 2025, it is also the name of the most adorable cat on earth.

(Is this post just an excuse to share some of the best cat pics I’ve ever taken…? Yes. If that’s all you’re interested in, shamelessly scroll down to the gallery below. Please also follow his social media account @ZephyrusGregarius for endless cuteness.)

HOW WE MET ZEPHYR: When Tom & I moved to Berlin, Germany late last summer, we had originally been contracted to occupy a specific apartment that is located close to his workplace. I won’t get into the whole exasperating story, but we ended up being prevented from moving into that apartment for more than EIGHT months beyond when our rental was supposed to begin, and eventually, we gave up on the place entirely.

We ended up finding somewhere else totally new, and it’s been a perfect fit for us in so many ways. It also comes with landlords we can personally interact with rather than a predatory and disorganized leasing agency, thank goodness. In fact, on the very evening of the day we got the keys, we received a friendly text from them:

“Your application mentioned you’re hoping to get a cat sometime–our mother happens to have two 5-week old kittens, and she is looking for a home for one: would you be interested?”

This message was accompanied by photos of a precious little storm cloud of a kitten, so cute that it hurt your heart to look at him. He looked like he was AI-generated. I had never understood the cuteness aggression phenomenon, until seeing this cat. The heavens seemed to be cracking open with a housewarming blessing from Freya herself. Even the bouquet of stargazer lilies (my favorite flower) on our then-dining-room-table were effervescing; they seemed to be saying goodbye for now, knowing we wouldn’t have lilies in our home again for quite some time.

As Tom remarked: “no sooner have we gained our temple, than we are provided with its god.”

His name came about because he IS like the western breeze, welcoming us to a new season of warmth. His birthday is March 9th (a Pisces baby) and he was safely ensconced in his–our–new home only four weeks after we moved in ourselves. He’s affectionate, curious, mischievous, and utterly charming. We had been waiting for the universe to gift us with a cat when the time was right, and our patience has definitely paid off; the literal day we found ourselves finally able to support a kitten’s lifestyle, he blew into our lives!

At less than six months old as of this writing, he’s still very much a kitten, and it’s been wonderful to watch him grow up, and to catch glimpses of the perfect cat he will become. BUT ENOUGH TEXT! PICS NOW!

Love at first sight!
Peak floofiness.
5 weeks old.
6 weeks old.
First night at home!
Cozy as fuck.
Tiny snugs.
Cat tree success.
THOSE EYES.
Adventure cat!
Chiaroscuro.
Matching outfit.
Helpful planner.
Summer solstice 2025!
My literal favorite photo!
*boop*
The drama.
Schloss Charlottenburg.
Picnic nap.
MEOW!
Snuggle buddy.
Literally a model.
Cheshire Cat.
Four and a half months!
Surprise!
Regal.
Cherry cute.
Lanky tween.
Balcony visit.
Something to say.
I am the night.
Shadow puppet.
Adoration.
Desk partner.
Favorite toy.
Keys to the apartment!
Stargazer lily perfection.
Fate and celebration.

Rehearsal Sketches from Santa Fe Opera Apprentice Scenes, Summer 2023

One thing I enjoy doing at rehearsals is sketching.

Whether it’s during my 15 minute break, or throughout a long day of observation, there’s usually a convenient opportunity to pull out my little sketchbook, at least for a few minutes. It’s a perfect activity for rehearsals: it’s nearly silent, it keeps me engaged with the onstage happenings, and it can be instantly plopped on the ground if my cue comes up. Plus, the actors who are actually occupying the stage at the moment are often staying in the same or similar positions for long durations of time–an ideal setup to practice gestural sketches.

The publication of this collection of sketches is much delayed! They’re from my most recent summer at the Santa Fe Opera, where I performed as a supernumerary (the “Mélisande doppelgänger”) in the Debussy opera Pelléas et Mélisande, and observed rehearsals for the Apprentice Scenes Program. These sketches are all from the scenes directed by the wonderful Crystal Manich that summer, who so kindly let me sit in and watch! I am always grateful to be invited into a rehearsal room; there are skills to be learned and practiced every time, and I try to make the most of it.

In these sketches, I had a few goals:
-practice quickly sketching objects from life
-practice taking multi-character blocking notation on the same page
-practice proportional representation of a stage area

While these sketches are quick, informal, and use quite a bit of shorthand, I believe I accomplished my goals–further, I believe I could easily recreate the staging of these scenes based on the sketches alone, two years later (precise stage business and use of props may be another story, however).

Each slideshow gallery contains the sketches from one scene, and is accompanied by information on the collaborators whose work or physical image contributed to sketch source material. The programs for all the Apprentice Scenes that year can be found here as well. Some of the physical drawings have been gifted away, but some remain in my records, and so the photos weren’t all taken at once, and may have some variation in lighting and quality. I also like to sketch on a non-white base paper when possible, but I’ve discovered this doesn’t always provide starkly visible contrast to pencil markings, unfortunately! All caveats aside, I’m glad to finally share them.

Enjoy!

Gianni Schicchi

Giacomo Puccini | Giovacchino Forzano
“Era uguale la voce…Addio, Firenze”

The stage from a tilted front perspective, with two sketches of the rehearsal atmosphere.

Detail drawings of furniture and rehearsal costumes.

Top of the scene: the family discusses Gianni Schicchi.

The scene progresses; Schicchi arrives and the plan unhatches.

The scene continues; the family and Schicchi anticipate success.

La bohème

Detail drawings of a moment of staging and some furniture.

The scene begins; Rodolfo’s life is changed when Mimi walks in.

We move through two arias and a duet; the scene ends with the lovers leaving, full of hope.

Giacomo Puccini | Luigi Illica and Giuseppe Giacosa
End of Act I

Boris Godunov

Modest Mussorgsky | Modest Mussorgsky
Quintet

The scene begins; the innkeeper starts opening up shop.

The scene continues; different folks start to mingle around the table.

The scene progresses; some of the visitors are harboring secrets.

Chaos and confusion as someone is not who he says he is!

Sweeney Todd

Detail drawing of Sweeney’s barber chair.

The layout of the set and start of “Epiphany.”

Mrs. Lovett’s brilliant idea turns into a playfully violent duet.

Solo Lovett track, starting with “Epiphany.”

Solo Lovett track continues, starting “A Little Priest.”

Stephen Sondheim | Stephen Sondheim
Epiphany and A Little Priest

Sweeney Todd | Spencer Reichman
Mrs. Lovett | Rebekah Daly

And if you made it this far… consider asking me to be a part of your theatrical team; you’ll get sketches out of it, for sure.

12.5/25: Halfway Through the 2025 Aims

It’s July 11th, and we’re just past the midway mark of 2025. I have updates about my progress toward the goals I wrote about back in January!

This year has been challenging so far, but also extremely rewarding. I have been overworked and underpaid, overtired and under-rested, but sometimes, that’s the slice of life we find on our plates. The first quarter of the year was largely tracked through long hours of production work in NYC, and the second quarter involved a move to our permanent apartment, finally recieving and unpacking our shipped storage, and adopting a new kitten–all in Berlin. My energy levels have ricocheted from that of an endless engine to a stagnant puddle. I’m just relieved to be entering the third quarter with a semblance of stability!

I’ve made great progress on my goals, but there have been setbacks, as well. It’s clear I have some items on which to reorient my focus. Without ado, let’s review:

Create something every day (take creative action: make something that was not there before, even if it is small, or part of a larger project).
Over the course of the year, I’ve come to understand that creativity is inherent in every day, in every choice you live, but my intentionality about it can still use improving. Some days are harder to “accomplish” because of life’s other demands; the challenge then is to figure out how to do the tasks at hand in a creative way, even if it comes down to changing up how you brush your teeth.
Do either a sun or moon salutation every day, with a few minutes of meditation.
Sun/moon salutations have so far been the hardest habit to build; this is something I really want to give energy to in the second half of the year. I do keep coming back to it, however, and I would consider that a win.
Update or work on my professional website (frannykromminga.com) once a month.
Monthly website editing hasn’t been consistent, but I have updated and published a few times. This could easily be fulfilled by going through and completing archival work for old projects I just haven’t gotten around to compiling information on.
Fully finish Venus Retrospectives!
Venus Retrospectives has had virtually NO work done. Recently, though, I have taken the time to break down the concept of the work left into smaller chunks, and made specific goalposts to hit for the rest of the year. The trouble is, a lot of what I’m doing is learning and experimentation, so it is very hard to predict what time commitment and resources will actually be necessary, moving forward. There’s nothing for it but to do it, I suppose!
Complete B1 level German training (via the Goethe Institut).
Unfortunately, I am NOT spending money on another Goethe Institut course. It’s just too expensive for my current situation. That said, I did complete my A2 level course in March, and I’ve been developing my comprehension independently with German audiobooks and daily interactions in Berlin. I need to reincorporate real memorization study–put those hundreds of blank flashcards I just got out of storage to good use–but I am slowly improving! Just… not in a way I know how to measure against the letter rating system. Anyone want to sponsor a $2,000 course?
Travel somewhere new!
I haven’t traveled somewhere new yet, but we have plans to visit Barcelona in October, and possibly somewhere else for one of our anniversary dates in August or November!
Read 25 books.
I’m on schedule at about 12 books; I slowed myself down reading Anna Karenina back in early spring, but I’ve really picked up speed this summer. Bless the Libby library app! Bless libraries of all kinds!
Visit 25 museums (different collections on separate visits to the same museum are allowed).
The museums goal needs serious dedication. I need to be doing that weekly, on average, at this point. This was a goal that really suffered during the early months of this year when I was extra busy with work, and it doesn’t help that I like to go to museums only when I can take my time. That said, it will be a pleasure to catch up.
See 25 live performances (in-person).
This goal is well on its way. If you include seeing shows I’ve worked on, instead of just shows I am attending that I have no professional connection to, it will be done in a month. Even so, this goal will practically complete itself this year. One of the merits of working in show business is that you often get to easily partake of show business.
Get 25 rejections from applications/auditions/submissions… then double it to 50 in the second half of the year!
My rejections goal requires more submissions. In fact, I think I may have rejected more offers myself than I have been rejected from, this year. The trouble with submissions is that I should only apply to things I actually want to do… this means more research. As I do more job applications in Berlin, though, this will increase automatically. I’ve actually started a tracking system specifically for applications, since I do need to get more work.
Make 25 posts on The Franifesto.
Sadly, this is only post number THREE on The Franifesto this year! This is another aim that will need near-weekly devotion in order to fulfill. As I write, I’m considering “Franifesto Fridays” as a basis for my sharing–I’m a sucker for alliteration, after all. 🙂

Looking ahead, I think there are three goals that will be the hardest for me to complete:

#2: I’ve technically already failed at the salutations, but in the end, this is more about achieving a daily habit than it is about rigid perfectionism. I know my wellbeing will benefit from them, but I have had a struggle with exhaustion that makes it easy to convince myself that lying in bed is preferable. Frankly, I’ve become aware of an energetic imbalance in my life: why is it that I find it all too easy to overextend myself for work, and find it hard to put that same effort into myself? The answer is probably capitalist conditioning, but whatever. I’ll be fixing that.

#8: Visiting 25 museums will also be a challenge, because it’s a goal that requires a lot of uninterrupted time (maybe it’s just me, but I can’t seem to visit any museum for less than 4 hours). Even though some goals may take more total time (Venus Retrospectives, I’m looking at you), those goals can be squeezed and squished into convenient bits and pieces, and accomplished at home. Luckily, Berlin is one of the best cities in the world for museum-goers, having over 150 to peruse. In some ways, this goal is asking me to invest in my own enjoyment, which is something I am not always particularly good at. I’ll definitely try to improve, though.

#10: Lastly, rejections are going to be really hard to collect! I’ve only racked up half a dozen so far, which puts me way behind my ultimate goal of 50 this year. It will be difficult because this goal is the only one that involves the participation of other people; being rejected means that other people, organizations, publications, companies, etc. have to respond to me, and that’s just not something I can control. in fact, this is an aim I’ve done before! I sought 100 rejections, back when most of my submissions were for acting jobs, around 2022. Most of those ended up being assumed rejections, because no one ever actually responded… instead, the dates of the shows I applied for simply passed me by. Still, I know I have a better chance of achieving this if I simply send out more applications, which I need to do anyway.

Reflecting on progress (and lack thereof) is reinvigorating. I may yet fail at every single one of these aims, but that isn’t the point, is it? There is immeasurable value in trying, assessing, learning, and experiencing. It’s in my nature to plan, strive, and analyze. Would you believe me if I said this was the most fun part of my entire year? (Gotta say though, getting a new kitten is right up there, too!)

Until next week,
-Franny

Poem: My heart is a smooth ceramic bowl,

My heart is a smooth ceramic bowl,
With sturdy walls, wheel-tossed,
And a shiny mottled glaze;
It’s hard to be sure of the color.

A deep bowl: for cereal,
Generous ice cream scoops,
And, on occasion,
A whole box of mac & cheese.

It’s hollow, and it hurts.
It’s not broken,
And it’s not usually empty,
But now I feel an aching lack.

A bowl is still perfect
Between its many uses,
When sitting pretty in a cabinet,
Or when being cleansed.

In these moments though,
There is a painful tension;
It’s the chasm of wanting use
And waiting for purpose.

(A tidy bowl secretly longs
To be messy,
Filled to the brim
With hot immediacy.)

I’d like once again
To be thoughtfully and tenderly
Holding something,
Despite the matched grief of letting go.

The 2024 Summary, and 2025 Aims

New Year’s Eve (and subsequently, Day) is my favorite holiday, and has been for some time, ever since my close hometown friends and I started a many-years-long tradition of throwing NYE parties. I can’t remember exactly when it started, but in something like 6th or 7th grade, we drank our fill of sparkling grape juice, threw handfuls of confetti all over someone’s carpeted Michigan basement, and that was the beginning of everything.

Aside from the parties with friends and enjoying a good secular holiday, I love celebrating the New Year because I love transitional moments; I love reflecting on the year that has passed, thinking through the long list of surprises, lessons, and achievements, and anticipating more to come in the next year… and there will be so much!

Last year was honestly wild, and I’ll show you what I mean–

In 2024, I:
-Visited 4 Countries: USA, Denmark, Germany, Italy (and flew through 4 more: Iceland, Switzerland, Netherlands, and Ireland). 🧳
-Moved from NYC, NY to Berlin, Germany! 🇩🇪
-Visited my home state, Michigan, twice. 🍒
-Got a bilateral salpingectomy. 🎉
-Designed and shot my short film, Venus Retrospectives (currently in the editing process). 🎬
-Debuted my short play, “Black Market Inspiration,” at AMT Theater off-broadway, as part of their New Works Development Program. 🎭
-Completed 2 German courses with the Goethe Institut, and started a third (which will complete my A2 level learning). ✅
-Worked on 15 different productions/shows/events with Chelsea Factory NYC, usually as the Venue Coordinator. 📋
-Worked as the Assistant Production Manager for SUMO, with Ma-Yi Theatre Company (to be performed at The Public in March 2025)! 📅
-Saw a TON of plays, musicals, operas, dance pieces, concerts, and performances of all varieties! 🎵
-Visited a bunch of museums, and sketched at le Gallerie degli Uffizi and la Galleria dell’Accademia in Florence, Italy! 🎨
-Read several books, including physical copies, kindle editions, and good old library books. 📚
-Turned 30!!! 🥳
-Celebrated 1 year of marriage, and 9 of togetherness, with Tom (and we got new ear piercings to mark the occasion)! 💕

… And that’s just about all that I have the patience to tally up right now.

For the new year, I of course have equally ambitious aims (though I would prefer to avoid moving again for a while). I usually don’t share my goals, instead choosing to conceal any failures I might experience along the way… but this year, I want to be seen trying, whether I reach my aims or not. (Aside–did anyone else get called a “try-hard” in high school, as an insult? Can we unpack that together?)

So, here are the 2025 Aims!
-Create something every day (take creative action: make something that was not there before, even if it is small, or part of a larger project).
-Do either a sun or moon salutation every day, with a few minutes of meditation.
-Update or work on my professional website (frannykromminga.com) once a month.
-Fully finish Venus Retrospectives!
-Complete B1 level German training (via the Goethe Institut).
-Travel somewhere new!
-Read 25 books.
-Visit 25 museums (different collections on separate visits to the same museum are allowed).
-See 25 live performances (in-person).
-Get 25 rejections from applications/auditions/submissions… then double it to 50 in the second half of the year!
-Make 25 posts on The Franifesto.

Ambitious! But certainly achievable, and many of the goals overlap. For example, this post here is my “create something” for day 5 of the new year, and one of the 25 intended posts. The number 25 also seemed perfect for many of the aims, both because of the reference to the year 2025, and because it means I will need to accomplish one of each of those categories roughly every ~2 weeks. So far, so good: four days in, I am especially loving the creativity goal, because it’s often hard for me to prioritize something that is coded as “frivolous” in our capitalistic western society, even when I know it’s actually deeply important.

I’ll be tracking all of these, attempting to record them all in my little notes app; I plan to mark down what books and shows I experience, list when I write my posts, sketch at all the museums, and even count how many sun-versus-moon salutations I do. So, if you’re curious about how it all shakes out, meet me here next year: same time, same place!

In the meantime–enjoy a video I edited with some of my favorite little clips of 2024~

Happy New Year, and may you have a healthy, joyful, and prosperous 2025!

The Button Factory

They drill the holes at eight in the morning. Loudly, with jackhammers, crushing, pounding, boring. I worked until midnight last night, and now I wake to hear the concrete giving way under heavy machinery. My disoriented dreams are interrupted, and my husband is next to me, already resignedly awake, scrolling. The drilling changes tempo: at times it clangs with the rebound of alarm bells, at others it whirs with implied threat akin to the Dentist’s. I record some audio on my phone; I send it to the gals, “can you believe this?” Somehow, I fall back asleep.

Buttons aren’t made here anymore, not since, if the German wall plaque in our studio apartment is to be believed, the 1990s, after reunification. Cultural adjustments and economic shockwaves ripped through decades of benefic business. (Buttons are good work; even zippers can’t zap them. Velcro is, by comparison, vacuous. And snaps! Unserious.) Alas, the Fall of the Berlin Wall was a stronger connector.

Now, the only button left is a large metal statue: a four-foot, futile ferrous fastening, forever unfulfilled of its purpose. We can’t see it from our balcony, but some folks overlooking the next courtyard down can, and I’m sure it’s very quaint from above. It’s neighbored by a spry little fountain, a bike rack, and some lightly overgrown plants. They must have finished remodeling that courtyard last year.

Ours, by comparison, is a concrete pit, haphazardly layered over with uneven boardwalk. The planked pitfalls change every day, when the construction workers rearrange the path after having freshly rearranged the terrain. “Lift your feet,” I mutter to myself, as the motion-activated light flicks on, about five yards too late into the dark trudge. Stepping with intention, I make it to my door, grocery bags and ankles intact.

I get a hint of commiseration via text throughout the day. I respond, keeping up conversation, connection. Not much is said. Nobody changes the topic. Hours have passed, and I’m safe at home, staring down a blessedly sacred weekend (jackhammers, famously, always have weekends off). And then–

–“[…] it’s not that bad […]” … followed by other gems of helpfully dismissive wisdom.

Of course it’s not that bad. I’m safe, and warm, and fed. I have work that is personally meaningful. I am loved, and I get to see my loved ones regularly. I am healthy. I get to enjoy some of the finest components of our Age. I’m not making buttons, in Berlin or otherwise.

And yet.

Lately, I have been pungently aware that even my casual, conversational complaints are confounded. The positive public veneer is too thick. Instagrammed sunsets and an eye for an angle make the whole world go blind, I suppose. I feel unrelatable, even with those I’ve thought myself dear to for a decade or more.

No, it doesn’t really matter that loud construction woke me up at 8AM. And I’m sorry if I have overused your compassionate ears and eyes lately, sharing some of the inner difficulty that few get to witness. But I am not easily vulnerable, and this year has had massive challenges to match the changes. Overall, yes, I know this is a crumb of an event… but a concrete crumb, and it wormed into my shoe somehow, and yes, I need to pause to shake it out.

Pause with me, or go on ahead–but if you go on, I won’t try to catch up.
I will go at my own pace, regardless.