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YOU CAN FOLLOW MY JOURNAL ELSEWHERE

Posted on Aug 18th, 2008 by creature : renegade creature
Hi, Gaia Friends.

This is a personal message to let you know that I'm discontinuing my journal on Gaia.  I'm not sure if it is because I am using a Mac Safari browser or if it's just the Gaia posting interface, but to get the formatting right so that you can read my Gaia journal, it takes a while.  I have to screw around with it and it often doesn't read correctly afterwards.  
 
I love to write and I am honored that you would consider spending your time reading something I've written.  That's why I hope you'll choose to follow me one of these many other ways.  My journal entries and updates are posted on all of the following:

http://tonyakay.com

http://myspace.com/tonyakayos

http://www.facebook.com/people/Tonya_Kay/536157888

http://twitter.com/tonyakay



I also have some videos and other relevant social networking here:

http://youtube.com/PureRenegade

http://www.linkedin.com/pub/8/3/a76

http://modelmayhem.com/tonyakay




Please drop me a line at any of these new places to let me know you came from Gaia and found me somewhere else!
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Tagged with: tonya kay

Face To Earth / Back To Sky - Elephant Nature Park, Thailand

Posted on Aug 18th, 2008 by creature : renegade creature
Thailandelephantnaturepark7windowtonyakay
My favorite thing about volunteering at the Elephant Nature Park in Thailand’s village countryside was nite time. My room was a hut and it was made of bamboo. Surely volunteers like myself had built it no more than two years ago. I know because we volunteers were replacing fence constructed of the same bamboo as part of our work/stay. The monsoon season, which we all surrendered sloppily into, really speeds up the life process. Things never dry out and the spider that considered my hut his (and was probably right), was larger than my outstretched hand and housed uncomfortably close no matter where in the room. My hut was the best. It stood on poles to slow the floor’s rot on the always-wet ground. It had two windows (rather than the other rooms' one) - neither of which had screens or anything factory-made or expensive like that. So it was me, Arachno-dude, and within 50 feet, just outside of my two windows; eleven elephants all nite long. What does an elephant do at nite? They chomp big time on the corn stalks we cut in the fields for 5 hours a day (face to the earth / back to the sky). They chomp three at a time for hours, sounding like boards snapping and bones cracking, but no ... they are vegetarian like me. Wait ... they are raw vegan like me. Elephants eat 300 pounds of raw vegan food every day. I wonder where they get their protein from? Elephant calves play at nite. They hug and tug one another. They practice gentle sparring. And sometimes they get startled by the unseen, like any baby would - maybe a mouse runs behind their feet or something - and they chirp like big birds, kinda squawking and causing a nervous commotion. Until the auntie blasts one resounding trumpet. And they shut up real quick like. When an elephant momma speaks ... You can't see elephants at nite. I don't know how they do it, but the largest land mammal on earth really can just disappear kinda become invisible. Like a shadow - no, a black hole. Any light that would be in the area of a nite elephant is sucked in towards it with no hope of escaping. The elephant is Whatisdark and the only way you know an elephant is there is a kind of vibration in the air and a few gentle sounds. I listened to them all nite long. Now, in Hollywood, I close my windows and turn on the fan and sometimes even wear ear plugs I'm not kidding because if the smallest change in air pressure doesn't wake this insomnia-inclined light-sleeper up, then the Hollywood helicopters will. But I didn't wear ear plugs here. I didn't cover my ears with anything more than a mosquito net. Instead, the sounds of the elephants no matter what they were tasking lulled me into an in between world. They drop the grass on the ground, I fall to the ground. They sigh, I am exhaled as moisture into the air. They snore, one long, everlasting lung full of air and I believe I can hear the earth sleeping. Yes, even elephants sleep. I know they do. Unless one was inclined to listen all nite, one may never know. For only 4 hours every nite, the sleeping sounds do inebriate. And I was alone, lulled and listening one nite, and I had to see it to prove it. So I wandered without flashlight as close as I could - maybe ten feet away - and I saw what I needed to see: elephants really do lie down to sleep when they feel safe. And they snore an elephant's snore - the sound of everything all right in the world.
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Gravitational Pull - Bangkok, Thailand

Posted on Aug 4th, 2008 by creature : renegade creature
Thailandelephantnatureparkbathetonyakay
I'm a changed woman.    

I mean, I am always changing, but some changes are more meaningful than others.    

Life changing.  Perspective changing.  Spirit changing.  Soul changing.  The elephants can't help it.   Without even seeing them, you sense them.  6 tons of isolated consciousness, breathing, focusing, feeling ... on the grandest scale of all.  Elephants exert a gravitational pull they are so massive.  Like little Earths on Earth.  Even sleeping over 100 yards away, their presence comforts.  A forced meditation for all that surround them.  A lesson in patience just to contemplate them.  A lesson in gentle relations.  A lesson in finely directed intelligence.    

To be near an elephant, these things are unavoidable.   They change anyone who comes into close, compassionate contact with them.  They change the world we walk on.  Even children whom have never seen an elephant in real life, I am convinced, are affected by elephants living somewhere on this Earth.  It is my goal to make sure this endangered species exists in this world.   

This world is a better place with elephants in it.
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Tropical Paradise? - Ko Phangan, Thailand

Posted on Jul 18th, 2008 by creature : renegade creature
Thailandpricklyheatpowder
Have I mentioned I wither in the tropics? 

Maybe all humans didn't originate in the same place. I mean, why is it that all these twenty-something-year-olds mainly from England, but I hear German, Israeli and Italian English accents as well (only the occasional North American English accent) - why is it that every full moon 8,000 to 50,000 of these sexually hopeful international tourists choose Ko Phangan in southern Thailand for holiday? 

Today, with the common bacterial infection that affects 50% of travelers' digestive tracts in this never-dry climate and hygienically casual culture, I creep out to the beach, well after 3 p.m., to avoid the oppressive sun and it's most damaging rays, only to find the same 500 folk that I saw this morning during my coconut breakfast still playing volleyball, learning to spin poi, making out on inflatable floats, and mixing pink cocktails in what they consider paradise. 

I last a literal 20 minutes before the sweat and heat combined inspire a clausterphopic feeling akin to suffocation. I shake off my beach towel, scratch off the sea lice (for real) and retreat back into my queen-of-the-jungle bungalow to apply another layer of powder to the heat rash that has turned my backside into a horror movie special effect. I feel like an alien in this tropical world. I wonder if everyone here really adores this climate as much as they profess or would they and their pale white skins, now blistering and peeling quite horror-movie-esque too, actually feel more paradisal in Glasgow, San Anchorage, Stockholm or Winnipeg as I would, if they could only admit it.

I was wine tasting in Napa many years ago, just initiating into the sport and asking questions of anyone seemingly more experienced than I. "Which wines do people prefer?" I questioned one particular vineyard's server who pours for hundreds of tasters every week. Her answer opened my eyes to wine and social habit in general, "People say they prefer the heavy reds, but what they request another taste of are the sweet whites time after time." Peer pressure? Social eagerness? Immaturity? It's okay to adore the musky bite of the Merlot or Port, but how many of these lobster skinned, dysentery infected, alcohol dehydrated, heat rash itching, cockroach avoiding, mosquito bitten backpackers would have the self authority to proclaim to the world's travel snobs that they prefer a light Sauvignon Blanc anyway?







(This piece was written in humor. I am in fact enjoying Thailand beyond measure in spite of the climate assault.)
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Caterpillar
Hollywood, CA

Posted on Jul 1st, 2008 by creature : renegade creature
Sportsstagtonyakay
It's a little death every day. It's a little dying and then one day you are changed. Reborn and grateful for the clarity, the perspective, the motion. During the dying, though, you are faithful for, rather than convinced of; rebirth.  

We have faith in the rebirth if we are smart. And we are. We see all around us what blossoms after wither, what sprouts in the ashes, what is the next season. And it doesn't take me long - no, not too long at all - to know: I'm about to wake up and not recognize my reflection either because it looks like someone else or because it looks like me.  

Just when the caterpillar thinks the world was over, she sprouts wings and flies.
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Tagged with: tonya kay, athlete, raw vegan

Dare I Say Cute
Hollywood, CA

Posted on Jun 25th, 2008 by creature : renegade creature

My mom is a small woman in my embrace.  She is my mom and yet she is so much smaller than I.  She loves being huged and giving hugs and I notice that because it's the most important thing about a relationship to me;

 

The Embrace:  to expose the soft organs of the body completely and flatten the heart specifically against another's heart.  To touch the hearts.  To smell the odor.  To talk to energy.  To listen to energy and to simultaneously shout, mandate, offer, suggest, understand, assimilate, resolve, hold, hold, hold, reciprocate.

 

To hold my mom close in public.  It is wonderful.  It is obvious.  It is me loving my mom.  It is no weapons, only open arms.  

 

She is such a special woman.  Aloof and dare I say cute.   She held me when I was small enough to fit entirely in her embrace and she loved me with all her might.  I don't really remember that early on, but I am who I am today and that tells me without a doubt:  my mother held me.   I live proof of being held.

 

I hold my mother, too.

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Become An Archetype - Grapevine, CA

Posted on Jun 2nd, 2008 by creature : renegade creature

I am an idealist.  

 

By choice.

 

Because sometimes in an idealist's world, the ideal thing happens.   

 

I mean; surely the ideal thing rarely happens in the pessimist's world.  But the most dangerous perspective to think one possesses is realism.  As if all perspectives weren't mutable and chosen.  The realist thinks hers is fixed and actually more valid than the others.  At least the pessimist knows perspective is subjective and theirs tilts towards impending doom.  The most dangerous human beings in the world think there is an objective reality and they have a monopoly on it.

 

Well, I know my ideals aren't real and I choose to continue their dreaming.   

 

My ideals are strong, and are one of two things that define the depths of my character.

 

And if you haven't figured it out by now, performance is the other.  To search the self and the human condition so thoroughly that with one breath, my lungs breath the air of the collective unconscious - that is the connection this performer aspires to.  To go straight where I am uncomfortable and root around until it hurts, while others are watching, seeing, sharing, relating to, forming opinions of - that is the epitome of vulnerability, bravery and belligerence only a performer's soul can glimpse.  To purge my demons through sweat and motion, to work my magick through obsession to detail, to become an archetype, representing whatever the receiving psyche will have me as, is an important, adventurous, and noble pursuit the way I see it.  And performnace, combined with ideals, wholly define my core.

 

And yet, I have been vehemently challenged by fans that I am not living up to their ideals when I dance in a commercial for a product I personally wouldn't use.  Or act in a film in which's message is not aligned towards social transformation.  To which I jest, with sincerity, that "my career and my life will be complete when the avocado company has enough money to hire me for their next billboard campaign."

 

Well, last week they did.

 

Al Gore's Alliance for Climate Protection hired me to perform in their upcoming public service announcement - which is a fancy way to say "commercial".   However, while a commercial sells a product, a public service announcement sells an idea.  An ideal.  In this case, I'll be selling climate protection with the message, "it matters," "you make a difference," "now is the time," "we are powerful."  

 

The entire process was a positive one.  For the audition,   I actually got interviewed about some of my life, which gave me the platform on camera to speak about a jillion environmental implementations I use on a personal daily basis.  On the set, the craft service company, rather than providing "disposable" (next to realism, the second most dangerous concept in human history) plastic water bottles, provided just one intended for reuse with markers for labeling it and a large water dispenser to fill it from (I of course had my usual glass water bottle in tote and still didn't need the plastic one).  In holding, conversations about Burning Man, alternative fuels and raw vegan diets were plentiful.  And in the final edit, this production will hopefully reflect what an amazing experience it all was for me; in particular, to get to be a part of  mass media that's breaking the rules.  

 

It's moments like this that I know the world is catching up with my ideals.  And it won't be long before I'm performing the roles and delivering the messages that an entertainment medium of this global magnitude has the responsibility to deliver.

 

We are doing it now.  Watch and remember what you see.  Note who is pushing the limits.  Support those, big or small, that are generating health and environmental media.  Now is the time for responsible film and television propaganda.  It's happening now.

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Malibu Creek - Malibu, CA

Posted on May 29th, 2008 by creature : renegade creature
Malibucreektonyakay
And the ground gives way. In one moment, you are on the path but not on the path. And almost as suddenly the human machine - go, go Gadget Ankle - recovers and without injury is in forward motion again.
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Will Not Settle Down
Hollywood, CA

Posted on May 6th, 2008 by creature : renegade creature
Freepinwheeltonyakay
The West Coast Best Coast was settled by some crazy muther fu*kers. No doubt. Imagine looking at that canyon, one of the seven wonders of the world, well deserving of it's implicated grandness, thinking, "let's see what's on the other side". But their horse and carriages didn't stop for the great chasm in the earth, no, they relented not, they pushed forward, they dreamed big and over the snow-covered avalanche/blizzard frozen gray mountains they persevered. Many surely died trying. Many surely decided the risk was not worth their family's lives so they settled in desert or plains before. But some ... the people I choose to feel an ancestry with, are the believers. "There's gold in them thar hills!" - an alchemic purity of spirit that existed in this world, worth searching for, possible to find. These are my people. Only stopping when land disappeared - at the ocean, my people may not have discovered the alluvial nuggets that beckoned their impulsive idealism, but they did find something. Every day, setting sun across and aquatic horizon - we are touched and our dreams continue for one day more. The gold rush, I am convinced, is legitimate and lives on. The mind of the people on the West Coast remains that of pioneers. Things change more rapidly here than anywhere else in the world. The fashion of the moment, the progressive thinking mind, the suggestibility required to try something new simply because it's new and ... who knows how brightly beauty may shine? But the exact speed at which this city, Los Angeles, is capable of change, not only lays the foundation for eternal youth and sets the stage for the embracing of all modern practices, including cultural arts, science fiction religions and overwhelming international commerce via mass media, but also ignites a convenience compulsion that covets all things that don't take too long, last too long or require too much effort. In other words, the West Coast's Pioneering mind was the first to embrace organic agriculture while driving packing highways single-passenger in lieu of the car pool lane. Disposability is the down side of too rapid a change: disposable wardrobe, architecture and even identity. This change - obsessive change - for change's sake, leaves landfills needlessly where cemeteries and public basketball courts used to shine. My industry, the film and television industry in particular, is the most excessively expendable industry of them all. The waste generated on set in one of filming a major motion picture, from the plastic, glass and aluminum beverage containers alone, leaves me wondering how I, who goes all the way for clean living inside and out, can possibly be content with quietly reusing my little glass water bottle while dozens are being tossed this very minute with only two sips depleted. If five more people on set are inspired to be responsible for just their water bottle after reading this, then ... maybe it really does matter. As an actor in the Los Angeles film and television industry, my ability to even get through a casting director's door lies gently in recommendation and reputation, but heavily on headshot. Printed, mailed, dropped off, then resubmitted, the headshot often gets saved when one's audition warrants possible employment, but too often follows the path of common, unsolicited junk mail: straight from the press and into the trash. The advent of online casting submission services like LA Casting and Breakdown Services allows managers and agents to communicate actors' images digitally, saving literally forests in paper production, hours in time and hundreds of dollars in photo reproduction. And while I wish with all my might that the digital headshot, resume and demo reel will take over as the exclusive professional casting exchange, I still count 300 headshot, postcard and business card reprints every other month in my promotional output. 1,800 shots/year really is something when you add it up. So I asked the photo reproduction facility, knowing that recycled paper is being used in everyday paper items due to it's actually being cheaper to produce than virgin paper and far more agreeable with our precious environment, "What percent of your reproduction paper is recycled?" They did not know, but they were happy to find out; "25%". Now, that's fantastic! "I'd like to print on 100% recycled paper. Can you help me do that?" It took four weeks, $200 extra dollars and a small sacrifice in image clarity, but I can with near complete assurance state that with only tiny effort, I have become the first actor in film and television to print her shots on 100% recycled paper. This is the industry that so heavily relies on headshots. This is the city of where said industry's epicenter lies. This reproduction house is one of the most popular in Hollywood, and I was their first. They found out for me. And the next time someone else says, "I want to print on 100% recycled paper. Can you help me do that?" - it will be fast. And the twentieth time someone asks the same question - it will be cheap. The paper will be in stock and available. We Who Travel West ... I stand at the ocean bathing in sunset's magick hour, dreaming that the next rush of gold might be right beneath my dirty fingernails. Feeling like the pioneer of everything that is about to be. Reminding myself that Pioneers are not settlers. My people before me did not settle on the plains. They did not settle at the canyon. And I won't be settling either - especially not "down". So while I welcome with open arms the countless pioneers I see rushing gold one by one, and encourage them to insist on 100% - nothing less, I still press on towards digital exclusivity and the legalization of the hemp plant so that deforestation for paper products can cease altogether - for once and for all. I will not settle down.
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I'm Your Favorite Badass
Hollywood, CA

Posted on Apr 22nd, 2008 by creature : renegade creature
Knifethrowpowertonyakay
It's a king sized bed in a cold, April bedroom. I was just snuffing out so I could enjoy a read about elephants, my most recent spiritual study, but instead I got amped - really inspired and here I am like a maniac trying to write it down.  

Writing things can be the first step towards magickal manifestation. It's like the vision is more formulated, more complete ... more real. Picasso and Spare might have to agree.  

It seems like the full moon OR the nite after. Yes, the nite after and the entire two weeks after is a time to realize what in the first two weeks was sewn. My dreams became steeped in waking coincidence. Of course, I use that word to communicate, not because I believe in coincidences rather everything I am experiencing is like a destiny based jig saw puzzle and whoa am I inspired!  

***  

I want to become a working actor. A name actor. By the traditional means: I will audition, I will get called back, I will book, I will prepare and play, I will perform and play and I will be hired again because I am fun to work with, I am easy to direct, and I have great ideas that accentuate the material and a global vision that makes history.  

I am your favorite bad ass. I am her unlikely voice of reason. I am his curiosity. I am my own buoyant muse.  

Most importantly, I am the face of everything that is going to be. I want to become a name actor by the traditional means, and wait for the age and my inspiration to meet as the audience and movement seamlessly combine and see a beautiful green world sprout up between sidewalk cracks and underneath my very own finger nails.  

***
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