I GOT FIRED

A TALE STRAIGHT OUTTA HOLLYWOOD: THE UNUSUAL BUT TRUE STORY OF HOW "TREES HAVE FEELINGS" BEGAN

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As you may have read in my brief bio, I’ve been a television producer, director, writer for the past 25…ahem...30) years. It’s been the whole Hollywood ordeal —  feast-famine-famine-feast-famine-famine-famine, hopping from show-to-show, working 16-hours a day and going 7+ months without one day off (true), no health insurance, no retirement, no 401k, only the hard scramble. Through these years, I’ve met the worst people and made the best friends I could ever imagine. Being surrounded by creatives in war zones forges meaningful, deep relationships. For all of the horrendous people in the biz, there are 3 beautiful souls that stay with you for life. You gather them up as you travel through the next shows, the next nightmares, the next hilarious “only in television could you experience this level of insanity,” and then the next famine. It’s circular, amazing, awful, rewarding, lethal, and exhausting. It’s maximum egos and minimum loyalty so when you meet a loyal, you hang onto them.

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Now, anyone who knows me knows I don’t manage up well. I’m honest, straight-forward, passionate, respectful, authentic, and unapologetic. I’m also very good at what I do. And when you’re an executive producer and woman with these qualities — yes, I stress being a woman — you and your “emotions” and ethic of care often don't sit well with the muckity-mucks upstairs. I was ultimately fired. No biggie. I’ve been there before. But something different had happened in the weeks leading up to this big bang. 

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During the game-playing crap I was dealing with on a daily basis and the extraordinary level of sociopathy staring me in the face, I started doodling on my desk calendar. I needed sanity, so while on conference calls or when specific friend-colleagues were in my office for a meeting, I’d grab some Paper Mate Flair markers and doodle. I was drawing nothing, just random, colorful lines and squiggles on paper. These few people I trusted knew that when I was doodling I was paying rapt-attention to what we were discussing — I was simply attempting to center myself through the never-ending storms. 

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And this is where the trees come in. When I stepped back from my seemingly random marker marks, trees were everywhere. Those closest to me commented that they were cool. The trees were frenetic and angry and hopeful and colorful and full of life. I laughed it off. I tore off a part of my desk calendar and took it home to put on the fridge. My husband declared me, Tracy Mazuer the artist, a Toddler Savant. 

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A few weeks later, I got fired. My work bestie, just back from hard-core breast cancer treatment immediately gave me a gift. I lovingly laughed at her and said how I appreciated her $12.99 gift and her belief in me but that nothing would be done with this. It was a great gag gift. She vehemently disagreed. 

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Her gift came to me in the form of an email from google domains. She had purchased www.treeshavefeelings.com. She told me I had no choice. She said these trees were coming through me and it would not be an option for me to ignore it. She believes in God and stuff. “There’s no there-there,” I said definitively.

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Now, as I am writing this, my dogs are going bananas because the mailwoman has just dropped off the mail. I can see she has a package, and I couldn’t be more excited. At this very moment, I’ve been delivered a sample of my Bianca Lee “Tree Shirt.” She’s the one who loves curse words and country music. The tree, that is. Not the mailwoman. Or perhaps she does, too. 

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And again, the magic is happening. The synchronicity of these trees and my world. Giving me a gift that I could never have seen coming. So I will continue to let the trees talk to me through the wind and the ink and my friends. I love you all.