When You're Smiling, the Whole World Smiles with You

I couldn't sleep last night. Don't ask why.  A bit more on that later.

Life is moving along here. School is good: In Movement (aka Dance) we had to learn a short routine in like 10-15 minutes and then perform it to music with our partner. It wasn't until the instructor, Robert, said so that I realized it was a simulated audition. I was one of five he said he would have hired had it been the real deal. Obviously his standards were a little different than reality, but still... it made me feel a little better about myself that day. Other than that, I would just like to say it is a little ridiculous how much I end up laying on the floor at my school. Literally, like every class.

Random adventures seem to be the name of game, from going out to a restaurant on Broadway where the waiters sing to you (job opportunity??), to invading the student lounge with birthday cake and party hats for roomie Greg's bday. I experienced my first rainy NYC day the other day, and loved it. For some strange reason I cannot even begin to explain, the minute I stepped outside and felt the cool rain hit me, a big smile came over my face. I popped up my umbrella and put in my headphones and listened to my jams as I walked to school (An experience I highly recommend.).

Still. I couldn't sleep last night.

It was one of those weird, tossing and turning nights when you can't stop thinking about things that you don't even really understand. A million questions coursed through my mind all night, a million little insecurities, questioning my own decisions, the way people think of me, my talent, etc. It carried over into the morning and made for a blah day at school where I did not feel like working at all.

Now here's where it gets a little interesting: My entire group had an off day today, noticeable enough that our acting teacher cut short our class by almost an hour because the work just wasn't happening. The dynamic had changed, the energy wasn't there. Something was different. Either today was just a generally blah day, or... I had a much greater effect on the group than I realized. Who knows. But it's worth thinking about.

The lesson is this: I am so blessed with so many opportunities other people wouldn't even dream of, with family and friends anyone would kill for. What right have I to not to be grateful and happy? God has given me so much to be thankful for, and I never know how far a bad attitude about my stituation is reaching. Wouldn't it have been better if I had just shown up for classes with a smile and given it my all? Would acting class have ended an hour early, or we would have gotten good work done? Wouldn't it have been better if I'd looked on the bright side?

We all have days when it's tough; that's part of life. The other part is being enough of a grown-up to look beyond what gets you down and see the good. As further proof of my point, this is the second time I'm writing this entry. The first time my computer blipped and I lost all the writing. Lemme tell ya. That tested me. But I took a walk, regained some perspective, and sat down to write it again.

I challenge you to do this. No matter what happened the day before, wake up each morning and tell yourself it's a new day. Today you're going to be outgoing, happy, and productive. I've made a pact with myself to do just that. Today is what you make of it. Today you're going to greet the world with a smile. Because when you're smiling, the whole world smiles with you.

To Chinatown and beyond!

New York City Weekend:

1. Discover a delightful park two train stops away from your dorm. Madison Square Park, the sight of the former Madison Square Garden (Did you know there was an old one? Me neither.). The old arena has now been torn down and replaced with a shady, eclectic park with well-managed gardens and fountains, frequent free concerts, and artsy booths set up along the sides. That's not even mentioning the Shake Shack, a famous little burger and ice cream hut that has lines streaking all the way across the park at lunchtime. A lovely park is nice enough, but may I just say that around 23rd street is a wonderful neighborhood altogether. Unfortunately my roommate says housing is expensive there. Ah well, you can't have everything.

2. Spend a fantastic night out in Chinatown and beyond with my Section from school. Not an assignment; we just happen to have the best Section in the whole dang school. Chinatown is an experience if there ever was one; eventually the signs stop using English and completely switch over to Mandarin and Cantanese (There are at least 9 different variations of Chinese, according to my friend Vivian from Hong Kong), and your waitress only speaks enough English to make an educated guess at what you're trying to order. There is an intersection where Chinatown and Little Italy literally meet, and that, my friend, is one of the most interesting intersections in the city. Take time to examine it- Just hold onto your wallets. Time literally flies by in this city- it's not long until it's 2 in the morning and you're still out having a blast!

3. Church on Sunday morning, naturally (A habit my Section-mates find 'So cute!'), getting dressed in the dark because my roommates are still passed out from the previous night's adventures. Walking to church in the crisp, morning air you can feel fall beginning to engulf the city all around you.

4. And, as is tradition with all college students, you spend Sunday afternoon catching up on all the reading and schoolwork you've been supposed to do for the past week. That's the way it's done, isn't it? Of course,  most college students don't have assignments like, 'Lay on the floor for thirty minutes breathing as deeply as you can and trying to align your body. Then speak your vowel sounds aloud using proper technique.' Oh, AADA. I'll just read the assigned plays.

And that's the weekend folks! Of course, there's still Sunday night. :)

Butt-Kicking First Week

First week of class coming to an end, I'll give you a basic breakdown of the classes:

Voice & Speech- A class to teach us proper diction, projection (although that word is a no-no here), and to implement within us the General American "accent"/way of speaking. This is a style of speaking formed by Edith Skinner some time back that supposedly gives no indication whatsoever of where you are from, your age, etc. It's extremely proper and sounds a bit pompous to tell you the truth. The second class had us learning the way to pronounce our 'o' sounds: think of the word 'hot'. The 'o' in 'horrible' should sound the same way it does in 'hot. Say aloud to get the full effect. Also try with 'orange' and 'forest'. It's strange. This class also implemented the 'u-glide', a term you might be more familiar with, but it left me feeling a little doubting of the necessity of such a subject since it seemed to me that speaking in such a manner would alienate any normal person.

          Theatre History- Boring. Plain and simple. Haha. We read a bunch of plays, have many more reported to us by classmates (a task I will have to do at some point later in the year, something I'm NOT looking forward to), and we listen to a man lecture. I suppose reading plays and learning history could be semi-intriguing, but at the moment I'm just not feeling it. I guess this is the way AADA can still call itself a school.

          Vocal Production- SINGING! Heck yeah! Buuuut.... we don't sing until after the mid-term. First half is spent on just speaking properly, then using song to continue teaching that ideal. When we get to singing, though- Imma own it.

          Alexander Technique- The most hippy class you'll ever take. Involves a lot of laying in the floor, breathing deeply (actually that just happens alot around AADA, in practically every class), and finding perfect inner balance. It's a very subtle art, enough so that they split the sections in half so that students can have plenty of one-on-one attention. I will say that after the teacher personally worked with me and got me to Alexander-walk across the room, there was a noticeable difference. A light, wholeness to the body. Most easily described as Zen.

I might take this moment to explain how AADA works. The class of 125 is split into sections of roughly 17. These sections go to every class together everyday. The idea is to get the sections really comfortable with each other so that the acting work can be honest and personal. My section is pretty rockin'. We all like each other quite well and are actually getting together this weekend for dinner and a night out. Go Section 7!

          Movement- Let's call it what it is: Dance. And it is tough. The warm-up alone gets me sweatin' big time. Today we started on the choreography of All That Jazz from Chicago. As much as I thought I was gonna hate this class, I gotta say that it is undeniably fun. Not to mention it's pretty much the only class where we actually do something, especially since Acting hasn't really gotten started yet. I don't if my utter lack of skill will allow me to pass, but I'll enjoy failing with the other boys.

          ACTING- This is what it's all about, isn't it? Already there have been several minor little revelatory moments for me. Acting is all about honesty, truth, doing under imaginary circumstances. It's so easy to think of acting as putting on a show- It is not. It's being as emotionally open as you possibly can, exploring feelings and experiences that other people are scared to really go through in their every day lives. After all, that's why people pay big bucks to see performances- They want to have feel by what they see, feelings they would be too frightened to explore otherwise. Forgive me for waxing philosophical, but it's a beautiful thing. However, that does not mean that I am above admitting when it gets a little silly. There was a moment yesterday in Acting class when are 17 of us were standing in a tight circle, massaging the back of the person in front of us, breathing deeply, and sighing loudly. I couldn't help but laugh as I wondered what someone from Kemp, Texas would think if they had walked in that room.

          Speech Practicum- The final class of the week, essentially a class made for putting into practice those things we've been having thrown at us in Voice & Speech and Vocal Production class. And it also explained to me the great mystery of General American: If we learn to speak in the most proper and simple way we can, then we can take our voice any direction a play or character might require, whether that be by location, age, social status or all of the above. Yet another minor revelatory moment at the American Academy of Dramatic Arts, and perhaps a little proof that they really know what they're doing.

And it's kicking my butt. I feel exhausted already, and no I haven't been staying up until all hours of the night. As the girl in Company that I chatted with after class explained to me: If the first week is kicking your butt, then the school is doing its job. You're on the right track. Prepare your buttocks for continued kicking as the weeks progress. Good to know, Company Girl. I'll prepare my buttocks accordingly because I'm gonna give this my all.

The Honorable Beggar?

In acting class, we were asked to bring in something, an object, that had special meaning to us. Before we shared our objects, we were asked to repeat a simple line requesting a peanut butter sandwich in whatever way we chose. Everyone gave their little performance of the line and we moved on to object-share time.

Nothing could have prepared us for how moving the sharing of the objects became. One girl shared her baby blanket and the stories that she'd made with it over the years. Other people shared pictures of their best friends, things people had given them that had meant something unique. One girl shared a stuffed animal she'd had since she was two that her father had given her. Her father passed away a couple of years ago. Half of the class was in tears after that one.

The point was that the simple displaying of our honest feelings about something we really cared about was much more interesting, engaging, and moving than the little peanut butter sandwich 'performance' we'd each given. The point was well-made and a very interesting idea to ponder. It leads me to this question: Is the beggar man on the corner who holds up the sign that says, "Keepin' in Real: I Need Money for Weed!" more honorable than thosebeggars who come up with the sob story of the century?

I'm not so sure about that. But as far as acting goes, this class was right on the money.

First Day of Class!!

So I don't know why, but for some reason even after a wonderful day spent with the delightful Alex Campbell, when I got home (Wow, I just referred to the New Yorker as Home.) last night I really felt the need to watch The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Foolish movie-obsessed boy! I hear you cry.

Well, yes. That's what I am. So I watched it on Netflix and it was quite satisfying.

But... That meant that I decided I needed to lay in bed a little over half an hour after my alarm went off the next morning. Mind you, my classes didn't start until 2 in the afternoon, but I had to workout before school and, as a result, shower, and fix myself something to eat, and hopefully go to Staples before heading to AADA. Well when I finished working out, I was somewhat shocked and dismayed to discover that it was almost 1 p.m.. Still I didn't fret, figuring everything was still under control. I showered, made a sandwich and scarfed it down, and of course checked Facebook. Well, naturally, three people chose right then to start chatting with me, and it is so rude to just ignore those chatty people. By the time I finally brushed them all off it was necessary to power walk all the way to school, and Staples was definitely out of the question. At about 2 blocks from the school I started sprinting, but it was of no use.

I was late.

Thankfully, the Voice and Speech teacher had the goodness in her to let it slide the first day of class and not deduct from my GPA, but it was slightly awkward when she came to the part in her syllabus about the inexpressible importance of being on time for every class. Oh well...

School was about as interesting as a first day of class introductions can be. We discovered how common favorite movies can really bring a group together, and how out of a group of seventeen at acting school in NYC, chances are each person's favorite actress is Meryl Streep. Oh Meryl... Acting class was spent talking about ourselves, where the tale of the Addison Expedition Through Central America was met with pretty unanimous respect. Not gonna lie, I'm never above bragging about my family's adventures. After that we spent a rather ridiculous amount of time discussing a definition of acting, which (again not gonna lie) got a little old. I was ready to stop talking definitions and show 'em how it's DONE! But we'll get to that soon enough.

Once school finally let out (7 o'clock at night!), my buddy Jake and I decided Taco Bell was worth it tonight. I didn't realize just how much worth I was talking about- those 79, 89, and 99 cent burritos that are so delightful at every other Taco Bell on the face of the planet? They don't do those in New York City. Six dollars for two burritos! Geez, talk about a reminder that you're in the big city!

I won't lie, though. After several weeks of almost exclusively dry goods-type food, those burritos tasted worth every cent. :)

A Somewhat Crowded Date

Seeing how I was out until 3 in the morning Friday night, Saturday and I weren't introduced to each other until well into the afternoon. A chill day was in order. After heading to the grocery store with the roomie (Can you believe there's a K-Mart a block away from my room?!), I turned on Skype, and, lo and behold, who should sign on but the delightful Elizabeth Victoria Joblin! We spent the entire afternoon video chatting it up, and decided we would make an evening of it. We disconnected briefly to fix our dinners (chicken salad for me, noodles and meatballs for her) and then reconnected to have our meal together, with movie plans being talked about.

Well it turned out we weren't the only ones attending our Skype date. Before I knew what was happening, my room was full of raucous Long Islanders planning to head to the Little Italy festival- Or so they said. 8:30, their first proposed departure time, came and went. Then 9:00 came and went. Then 9:30. Not that I would normally mind a poppin' soiree, but today was my chill day with Liz, and apparently this ever-growing group of people were finding a cramped dorm room more interesting than an outdoor Italian festival.

Not to fear, though, Elizabeth and I continued to enjoy ourselves as we observed the revelry from our little corner and found amusement in the questionable state of the party's sobriety. We even found several people who found our conversation more interesting than the group and joined our little club counting down the departure time. Not to mention it was undeniably amusing to watch everyone's reaction when I would inexplicably burst out laughing because of some unheard-by-them remark Liz made.

Eventually, they did depart and I kindly asked the roomie if the party could be taken elsewhere upon returning, which he graciously agreed to. I make it sound a little out of control, but I really have two of the most generous roommates. So, the date was back on. Liz and I watched Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, a surprisingly depressing little show, and chatted 'til the conversation topics ran out (an exaggeration, as the topics would literally never run out between the two of us.). My lovely evening spent reconnecting with home reminded me again how blessed I have been in all aspects of my life, from upbringing to family to friends to where I am today. This morning was spent hunting down (and eventually finding) a church suggested by my Aunt Claire, which was quite an adventure in itself...

But that's for another day... :)

The City that Never Sleeps

I don't care who you are. Nothing can prepare you for your first time in this city. I suppose if this is where you were born and raised, you might be a little more adjusted, but something in my gut tells me that even born-and-bred New Yorkers have a moment in their lives when they look around and say, "Whoooa." It would be totally understandable to do so- New York City is a place unlike any other. And I've been a lot of places.

Hi. I'm James Guthrie Addison. You can call me Jay. Ever since I was in a high school production of Cinderella at the whopping age of five, I have wanted to be an actor. I grew up in a small, Texas town, with a father who was pastor of a local Baptist church, and this upbringing influences every part of me; I am a Southern kindness-oozing, fun-loving, Christian. Now, thirteen years and lifetime of experiences later, I have moved to New York City to attend the American Academy of Dramatic Arts. This is the place that helped train Kirk Douglas, Lauren Bacall, Robert Redford, Adrien Brody, and Anne Hathaway. If I do say so myself, this is legit. This blog is my life, my experiences as I attempt to navigate my way through one of the toughest performace schools in the world while adjusting to life lived at one hundred miles-per-hour in the biggest city in the United States.

 Arriving in NYC was quite an experience from the start, especially with my Dad at the wheel in rush hour traffic. Dad at the wheel in big city traffic is an experience I suggest everyone go through at least once. After winding our way around streets that bared no resemblance to the directions given to us, we finally inched our way past the whistling and gesturing police man and came to a stop beside the New Yorker Hotel which would be my home for the next nine months. After unloading my mountains of stuff and tossing it in my completely insufficient space, my parents bid a quick a farewell and went speeding off out of sight- No worries. They would be back a day later.

The next two days were a blur of school auditions, registrations, voice evaluations, and very little food. I won't lie. It was no stroll in the park to be suddenly thrust out on my own; this city, with its millions of people, can make you feel very alone. When the second night by myself rolled around, I couldn't quite bear the thought of sitting alone all evening again, so I set out to the one place I could think to go: Broadway. That's when the magic first happened.

Strolling along, looking around at the bright lights and big dreams all around me, I began to remember exactly why I was so determined come here, and my cold, lonely little night started to feel a little warmer. Observing the people rushing by all around me, it's easy to think you're in the most impersonal city ever, but look a little closer: See the gangsta-looking black man go running to return a dropped five dollar bill to a little girl. Notice how the whole street works together to find the woman who left her green sweater on the bench and give it back to her. In a way, New Yorkers could be considered even closer than almost anywhere else; an unimaginable mass of people, all bound together by their beloved city. Somehow, even on that lonely second night, God had a way of taking me right where I needed to be: By pure chance, I found myself at the entrance of Times Square Church right as the evening service was starting.

Wednesday brought the return of my wonderful, fantastic, marvelous parents- they had never been such a welcome sight! They would spend the next two days with me, and first on the agenda was Promises, Promises starring the woman I have been in love with since 8th grade, Kristin Chenoweth. Following a delightful show (highly recommended), I, naturally, wanted to be a true nerd and try and wait at the stage door to see my dearest Ms. Chenoweth. I quickly found out I wasn't the only true nerd; there were enough people queued up to meet the woman that guards and crowd barriers had to be brought out! She emerged, to screams from all (no shame, including myself). No crowd barrier was containing me- I zipped my way around that silly diversion and leaned my head around the stern security guard who'd planted himself directly in front of me. "Kristin! Take a picture with me, please!" "They won't let me, honey! But I'll blow you a kiss!" Which she did. Which was nice. I suppose I should have taken a picture, but my hands were shaking uncontrollably. As I walked back to my hotel later I realized that I truly love that woman more than anyone else standing there- I doubt there's another celebrity who could thrill me so much by NOT taking a picture.

The next day was spent entirely with Mom and Dad, doing all the fun touristy stuff that the locals scoff at. I have the best parents in the world. You may think that you do. You are mistaken. The best ones are mine. For a final breather, we decided to drive completely out of the city for dinner, get one last breather before settling in for nine months. I won't deny that I was scared. How could you not be? Not only to be thrust out suddenly on my own, but to move from Small Town USA to flipping huge Metropolis. Trust me. It's scary.

Yet something had happened over the past week. I'd come to the point of realization that I was on my own and returned. I'd looked around me at what at first seemed like an alien planet, and found simple, human comfort. What's more, I'd experienced magic: Broadway. Times Square Church. Kristin Chenoweth. Spending a whole day in complete peace and delight with my parents! MAGIC. As my parents prayed with me parked outside of the hotel for the final drop-off, I still felt overwhelmed. This time, though, it was with a peace that I've come to know over the years, a peace that comes from Somebody much higher than you and I. A peace that passes all understanding. Armed with my new-found peace, I hugged Mom and Dad tight and then turned to face my new life. I had a fantastic night and an equally sweet next day, making all kinds of new friends along the way.

I know that this is where I'm supposed to be. I am probably the most blessed boy in the whole world, and I'm not going to forget it. I'm going be confident in my faith in God and enjoy every minute of my time here. Maybe it took my parents really leaving to realize that it was real. Now, I'm gonna change the world. And this city, of all places, is the place to do it.