by Hyapatia Lee
I was in a state of confusion. I needed to go on a Vision Quest. There is a sacred piece of land north of LA where Swift deer has led a Sundance for many years. Sundance is the most Sacred of all Native American ceremonies. It is a ten-day event. We often shot movies on this land. Swift and his wife Diane often came to watch us and talk with me and Bud. It was on this land that I had my Vision Quest.
Walking through dried up riverbeds and over desert terrain, I was in a heightened state of awareness. It is not at all like the land I was used to in Indiana, green and lush with many trees and rolling hills. I was looking for unfamiliar animals, insects and cactus. I found myself going up the side of a small mountain. I wanted to get as high up as I could. I thought I could see better from up there and maybe get a clue as to how to get out of this maze that my life was in. As I went further up, I saw another foothill next to this one that led to an easier way to climb and I moved over to it. When I finally found my place, I took out my sacred pipe and said a prayer.
The wind sang in my ear. I began to hear a song, a melody at first and then the lyrics. The wind was telling me to trust, have faith and soon I could get away from this situation. It was the first time I had ever caught a song. It was a very special moment for me.
I had heard the many tales of our ancestors, how hearing a song in the wind, or catching a song, is a sacred gift. It is the voice of the Great Spirit singing a very private and personal medicine gift. Some songs are meant to be shared because their medicine is good for everyone, others are much more personal. I thought this was a special gift just for me.
SOLITARY ECLIPSE
At first no one but I not a sound My heart’s bleeding, it’s lonely beating deafening.
No one to hear, the walls close in.
The light turns black with fear.
Trust, have faith, the sun will bring a new day And then you can get away From your solitary, solitary, your solitary eclipse.
Later on I saw a large hawk catch a snake and take him to a tree where the snake squirmed in his talons like the symbol I have seen so many times. It was an awesome sight and it gave me inspiration that perhaps the song was right.
I wanted to hear this song again. My vision had shown me that I had to go back to playing guitar, and I wanted to see if I could catch any more songs that were out there. When I came back down to civilization, I went out and got an Ovation first, and then a Telecaster. I started to play the song I had caught and a few of my old favorites. I took lessons in Hollywood.
One day I sat down with my guitar and smudged with sage in order to calm me and shake off the negativity and distractions of the world. I took myself to a higher state where the moon’s light was dancing on my wings. Moon On Her Wings was back. I tried to catch a song. I started to play. A tune called “Obsessed” played itself on my guitar. I heard the lyrics in my head and wrote it all down on staff paper. I didn’t believe this could be happening, I had tried before to write songs for SRO Records, the ones who had done “Two Sides”, only to remember that I had heard the melody before in a popular song. I asked Spirit for more songs to play for me.
Soon four songs had found their way on to my paper. I called Terry Rose at SRO and told him. He wanted me to go to a studio and record them. I called Paul Mosier, a man I had heard and read about through several “general release” actresses I had met at auditions, and we set to work in the studio in his garage. After we had several songs down, we sent the tape to Terry.
I was not happy with my life in the X-rated world. I wanted to find something else I could do for money. They idea of people watching two consenting adults make love was fine; I just couldn’t stomach the unprofessional bullshit anymore. The head games and the way the companies try to control actors was all getting to me. Some companies were promising their stars cars and condos, only to take them away on a whim. What was the actress to do? She was out on the street with no car! Weirder and wilder sex was getting to be the norm and I still wouldn’t do anals or work without condoms. I was embarrassed to be involved with a business that put out some of the product I had seen on shelves.
One of the songs on the tape was called “Strike Back” and it was bout how the government tries to limit what we can do, say and watch and how we should let our voice be heard. I played it for some friends and they suggested I contact a group known as The Stingers. Two brothers who run a video company head the Stingers. They have the band on the side and always do the music for the Adult Video News awards show in Las Vegas. When they heard the song, they suggested I sing it at the show and also at the club they were playing at that weekend in the same city. I called Terry and told him about it. He decided to fly in to check it out.
STRIKE BACK With fifty-one percent of the world You’d think they’d call us more than just “girl” They burned all our books and called them “mysteries” The Earth is our mother and brother so are we The only way it’s gonna change Strike Back-You know it’s your right Strike Back-you shouldn’t have to take back the night Strike Back-who’s gonna be there when it comes down to “thelife”
Try it our way and make the world light.
I promoted the show at the convention as I signed autographs for fans and co-workers. The club was packed with my friends and fans. There was a line two blocks long to get in. The crowd was energetic and by the time I got on stage, everything was going smooth and hot. I loved being up there, singing into the mic with everyone dancing to the beat. It was a good show and I had lots of photos given to me the next day at the convention from it. It sure is nice to have such friendly fans.
After the show, Terry said he was mainly into Gospel singers now. Pat Boone was his big name, before he went into heavy metal. With the screaming electric guitars and loud rock and roll, it was not his style of music. He said there was not much he could do for someone like me since he didn’t have the right connections. I was cut loose of any contractual obligations so I could be free to pursue other avenues.
I had a lot of fun in Las Vegas and wanted to continue writing music and playing it on stage. I needed to get a band together. I knew The Stingers were busy with their own thing and didn’t have time to be my back-up band. I had to find my own. Jimmy, the drummer, said he would help me. He had time to be in two bands, which is quite customary in LA. He suggested I come see him in another band he was playing with, The Capitol Homeboys.
Bud and I left our sons with the nanny, Tiffany, and went. Bud was insistent on being the manager of the band and as I knew of no one else interested in the job, it seemed OK to me. The Capitol Homeboys were a blues band playing at a popular club in North Hollywood called FM Station. They were very good and we were already impressed, especially with guitar player Chuck Kavooras. Suddenly, Slash from Guns and Roses stepped out of the audience and on to the stage. The keyboard player, Teddy Zig-Zag, toured with Guns and Roses. Slash is known to sit in with bands often. He and Chuck exchanged fancy licks. I was very impressed with Chuck. Bud and I decided it would be great if he would be interested in being in the band. After the show Jimmy introduced us. Chuck was very nice and helpful. He said he would be interested in being in my band. I found a few other players and we were ready to start.
The first practice was absolutely horrible. I wanted two guitar players and the other one was not at all up to Chuck’sstandards and neither was the bass player. Chuck suggested some friends of his that were much better. It took almost six months for us to get all the players we wanted in each position and coordinate our schedules, but finally, we were ready to get serious.
On guitar we had Ben Schultz, who has played with such greats as Rod Steward, Steven Stills, Ric Ocasek, Belinda Carlisle, Bonnie Pointer, Buddy Miles, Carmine Appice, Rick Nelson and more. Ted Nugent released his song “When Your Body Talks” on his “Little Miss Dangerous” album. Ben had his own solo album called “Triality” where he played every instrument, produced, composed and engineered every song for TVT Records.
On drums we had Rich Sumner, who began his car
eer touring with Helen Reddy in the ‘80’s and played sessions and toured with Linda Carter and others.
Lou Castro was on bass. He also played with The Capitol Homeboys and was a well know session player and writer.
Chuck’s credits included studio work with Toto, sessions with Bonnie Raitt and work on songs for such movies as “Made In America”.
We had a very solid band and it did not take us long to learn new songs and perfect them. Chuck and I wrote a couple of songs together and Lou and I wrote one. Our first gig was at a club in Hollywood and Current Affair was there to cover it. Can you imagine? The first time we played out as a band together, the whole world was watching! There was also press from Japan as I have always been popular there, and they videotaped our show and shot photos for their country. I was nervous. Even my therapist Ann was there to show support. The band acted like they were afraid I would break under pressure, like I would forget the lyrics or do something else that would embarrass them. They all chose to wear dark sunglasses.
Two thirds of the way through our very first song all the lights and sound went out. All the extra electricity to run the video cameras for Current Affair and the Japanese audience caused an overload. It took several minutes to get everything back up and running again. Needless to say, our concentration and momentum was broken badly, but we recovered amazingly well, considering all the pressure, once the electricity was back.
It was time to shoot another movie for Vivid. As is customary with Vivid, I did not get the script until I was in the make-up artist’s chair. I remember doing the movie “I Do part III” and being especially furious about this bad habit of theirs. In that particular movie I had page after page of monologue directly into the camera. Being trained in the theater and one of my few joys in this business being of the acting, I really wanted to do a good job with this nice juicy part I had been given. Naturally, when one has only a few hours from first read to final shot, it is quite a challenge to memorize all the words, not to mention adding meaning to them. The thing that made me the angriest was that it was all so very unnecessary! PT had the script days before we shot! It wouldn’t have taken a thing to drop it in the mail or have us come pick it up! This is what I mean when I say no one cares. The one thing I cared about, they abused. It was tearing me up inside.
Anyway, this particular shoot was not at my house, but another location. PT came up to me while I was in the make-up chair reading the script and said he had a horrible fight with his wife the night before and had been up all night long. He was exhausted. He was going to go home and get some sleep and he would be back in the afternoon. We were to carry on without him. The writer, Karl, was on the set and he would help if there were any questions.
Being used to this behavior from PT, we went about our business shooting the script we had been given. There were a few questions along the way and Karl answered them as promised. PT came back to the set at about three in the afternoon. He questioned the cinematographer about the progress we had made. We had been shooting for hours and were almost halfway done with the “one-day wonder”.
All of a sudden PT started screaming and throwing scripts. I had no idea what the problem was, but I figured I should go find out. It seems that we have been shooting the wrong script all day! There had been a major re-write and Karl had not knownabout it or had forgotten or whatever, but we had been shooting the wrong script. Everything would have to be shot all over from the beginning. Everything we had done so far was useless. PT was adamant that we would start over, no one would leave until we were done, and there would be no extra pay!
I was furious! Why should I work for free just because PT gave someone the wrong script and then left the set? Why should all the work I had done since 7 AM be for free? It was not my fault we were shooting the wrong script! It was the director’s responsibility to make sure everyone had the right script and if he had been on the set to watch the shoot, he would have known there was a problem on the first take! I was so mad, I told Bud I wanted to leave the set.
We drove around for a while, him trying to calm me down, telling me how much money we didn’t have and how I had two children to take care of and how we had no time for tempers. Veronica would not be reasoned with. Bud’s words only made her madder because she knew he should have been the one responsible for money while she stayed with her very young children. Victoria Cares For The Children was just so sad to have to be away from them and Veronica knew she was in the right. She hated Bud. Lisa hated LA almost as much as Stacy did. No one wanted to be there. No one wanted to be on the set of that movie. Hyapatia was long gone and would not come back.
Bud drove back to the set and began to park behind PT’s car. PT was opening his car door and looking for something. I knew this was not a good thing. I knew I could not control myself. I asked Bud not to go back to the set. I begged him not to park anywhere near PT or where PT would approach me. As is usually the case, Bud did as he pleased with no regard for common sense or anyone else’s feelings or needs.
As we got out of the car PT came over to me. He was still angry. He was still saying how it was not his fault and I would not get paid if I did not finish the movie and how dare I leave the set! I slammed my car door, breaking my long, costly, crippling fingernail in the process. He really pissed me off. Now I had to dig in my purse for a nail file before I scratched myself with that jagged acrylic edge. I hate digging in my purse for things. Purses should be like suitcases, with wheels to pull behind and a big zipper on top so you can open it and see everything in it. As I searched, PT bitched, like a fly buzzing around my head. He was close. It was hot. I could smell his breath. Finally, I found my manicure set with my nail file. I started to file my nail, ignoring the “buzzing fly”, but the fly would not be ignored. He wanted attention and, like my 2 year old, would not stop until he got it. He was not about to be upstaged by a broken nail. He got even closer to me, grabbing my arm as he yelled and spit flew. I raised my nail file in a protective way. I told him to get out of my face. He freaked out.
“Oh my God! Are you threatening me? You’re threatening me! Get her away from me! She’s crazy!” He yelled as he ran back into the house screaming like I would if I had seen a spider.
I can’t remember for the life of me what happened after that. I have searched my brain for years. There is nothing in any of my journals to help me fill in that gap either. Somehow, we got back home and I never did go back to that set to finish the movie. Stan at Vivid headquarters had heard about the incident, only he had heard it was a knife instead of a nail file. I was no longer wanted at Vivid. Bud was mad at me and would not talk to me for three days.
Stan, president of Vivid, always said we were a big family. Now he wouldn’t even accept my calls to explain what had happened. I was fired. I wouldn’t have really cared that much, except that my husband made me feel as if everyone had abandoned me except my kids.
He talked to the kids, saying things like “You’d better watch how much you eat, we won’t be able to afford food for much longer because mommy is such a hot head”. He talked on the phone, telling people how I had “really blown it” and how no one would ever hire me again. But he would not say a single word to me for three days.
When he finally did start talking to me, I wished he would shut up again. It was all a bunch of complaining. ‘Tou sure have changed. You’re a real drag to be around. I don’t know what happened to you. You used to be able to go out and havefun. Now you’re just boring. You never want to out and drink or just have fun or go to any parties. We used to be able to have fun. It’s all because of the children. It’s all their fault. If they weren’t here, we would get along fine again.”
For weeks he said things like this, then one night, he said it in front of Kevin. Kevin was just barely old enough to understand. “What did I do daddy? I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.” He answered when Bud saw him come into the room and yelled, “It’s all your fault we don’t get along anymore.” It broke my heart.
; I promised myself that no matter how hard it was, I would leave this abusive father. No one was going to talk to my children like that! NO ONE! I couldn’t leave him for my sake, but I would protect the children from him. That was final.
My therapist in LA helped me learn things I had never known, like how to put gas in the car. I had to ease myself back into driving. I had to over come tremendous fear at going into grocery stores and banks and other simple daily routines most people take for granted. I had gotten used to having Bud do it all and I had believed him when he said I was too well known to safely go anywhere alone or with the children. I believed him when he said it would jeopardize their lives to be seen with me.
I wanted to leave him, but I did not feel safe in LA. I planned to separate as soon as we got back to Indian. We usually spent one or two months in California and then one or two months in Indiana. It wouldn’t be long before I could get rid of him.
About a week after “the PT incident” Bud and I, now on speaking terms, went to check out a club for my band to play at. On the way there Bud pulled over to make a phone call. We didn’t have a cellular phone and he found a booth on a busy street to call from. As I waited in the car time was marching on. After about a half an hour, I got out of the car and went to ask him what was taking so long. As I was standing there talking to him, a car pulled up and a man got out.
