When I was flying back to New York City after two wonderful, fun weeks at home for Christmas, I sat next to a man who really enjoyed talking. It turned out he used to live in my neighborhood, and soon he was telling me all about the best restaurants, and who I need to talk to when I'm looking to rent a new apartment, on and on. The other guy on our row was somewhat in the conversation, but he and I were the real New Yorkers. When the plane landed, I was ready to be back, and feeling good.
The airline lost my bag. As I waited at the baggage carousel, one of my bags showed up. The other did not. I went to the desk and waited forever and the worker wouldn't let my file a report because I had checked in late so technically the bag wasn't lost. I left, and grabbed a taxi. Naturally, he took me the long route home, resulting in an overcharge. The happiness to be back had quickly dissipated.
The next morning I decided to start fresh and go to the movies with my AMC gift card I'd gotten for Christmas. I got to the subway and my debit card was declined so I couldn't buy a metrocard. I jumped the turnstile. I made it to the movie and it was amazing, the kind of movie that reminds me why I want to be an actor. I walked back to the subway and jumped again without thinking, and there were cops waiting on the other side. In hindsight, I should have just turned around and left- I'm sure they wouldn't have chased me- but I didn't, and they gave me a ticket. I rode the subway home in tears. In less than 24 hours, the city had shown me once again that I will not be having an easy time in it, ever. At least the movie was good.
The past two weeks I've had four shifts at work, due to our low sales following Christmas. Thank God, I was asked to be a keyholder, which is a guaranteed thirty hours. It hasn't taken effect yet, though, so I'm poor.
Major things have been happening with The Survivalists, the theater company I've been working on cofounding. We signed a rental agreement with a theater for the first two weeks of June. Tonight we had our very first public event, a reading of a play we've been looking into producing. When we got everybody in there and got the real work going, all the doubts that have plagued me just faded away. I'm sure they'll be back, but for tonight it was all as it should be.
It's good that happened, because otherwise the last 24 hours have been rough. I booked an audition I was really excited about, for an out-of-town production of Les Miserables as Enjolras. They sent me the sides, and they were high, but didn't seem impossible. I scheduled a voice lesson/coaching with a new friend of mine to work on it last night and it... didn't go well. I couldn't sing it. It didn't help that I'd spent the hour before frantically running around trying to print sheet music, which included a completely unsuccessful and infuriating twenty minutes spent in Staples, the bane of my existence. I feel somewhat bad for the voice teacher- I was stressed when I arrived at the lesson, and the more we sang and I realized I couldn't hit the notes, the more psychotic I became. When the lesson was over he tried to give me a pep talk, shocked at how 'defeated' I looked. I was defeated. I HATE not being able to sing anything, but this was an audition that I'd been looking forward to, one of the first ones I'd had in almost a month, and I now had to decide whether I was going or not. I confided this in him, and he had to concede that not going wouldn't be a ridiculous response to how the lesson went. Another train ride home in tears.
After the lesson last night I was supposed to go to a friend's house to watch the Golden Globes, something I've done every year for close to a decade now. The friend cancelled, and we don't have TV capabilities, so no red carpet and awkward celebrity acceptance speeches for me this year. I debated all night whether I would go or not in the morning. A phone call from my mother only increased the uncertainty; she was absolutely in favor of going. She had a good feeling about this one. Furthermore, it was what I was here for: to get up, prepare, and give it my best shot. That's all anybody (including God) could ask for.
I could hardly not go after that. I did all those things. I sang through it at home before I left and hit all the notes. I went, praying to God that I was walking by faith, not fear.
I went in the audition room and cracked on the high notes of both sides. Exactly as I'd feared. Hoo-freaking-ray for going for it.
I know that I can sound pretentious or condescending, but I truly think it is hard for non-performers to understand how frustrating it is to go to an audition and leave knowing you won't even be considered, watching all the others before and after you nail it. All the while knowing in my heart that if just given the chance, I would give them everything I have, I would go above and beyond their expectations. It's almost like losing a bit of your soul every time.
It wasn't the overwhelming emotion that came flooding over me as it had the night before. It was more a sense of coldness, a hardness settling over me as all of the thoughts I try to push away came flooding back. Worst of all, it was a feeling of resignation, that this is what happens to me. I watch as friends book gigs and love their lives, and I sit at home on facebook jealously, trying not to think about anything. More and more I've stopped letting bad auditions and rejections and disappointments in my social life get to me, but it's like a little bit more of my faith dies every time. Late at night, when I let all the bad thoughts in, I lie in bed not knowing who I am, not wanting my life to go on as it does, and not knowing what else to do. These are all of the things that I usually refuse to let myself think about, but sometimes I get tired of not thinking about it. It's real, isn't it? So shouldn't I think about it? Have you ever just wanted to scream at the top of your lungs, not really for any specific reason, but just general protest? Then you understand what I'm feeling a little bit.
The truth is, I don't know what else I would do; I never even considered another career, or really considered that this might not work out. I've spent my entire life building up to being a performer. How can it not happen? They say that you'll book the gigs that you're right for, that ones that you're just what they're looking for. What if I'm never what anyone's looking for? What if no one ever wants me?
I know that happiness is a choice, that I ought to brush it off, move on, find the good things. And frequently I can. I don't concern myself with any of it, and I just keep going, and keep trying. But sometimes it feels like all the effort and optimism in the world isn't enough; I'm just being optimistic to avoid facing reality, you know what I mean. Perhaps tomorrow I will be able to fool myself again.
It's late, and I don't want to think about these things anymore. I want to push them away, go to sleep, and get up tomorrow, numb myself to it all again. That's what I'm going to do. Breathe in, breathe out, and hope that the next breath brings something better (and even more hope that it doesn't bring the flu). I never know whether to write about the more unhappy times like these, however it is the my truth. I have sought my whole life to share myself, and so I am, perhaps hoping, as always, that someone, somewhere will see something worthwhile and notable in it.
And it's got to get better. It's got to. And when it does, I will share that as well.
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
I Wore Angel Wings in Times Square.
Why haven't I blogged in well over a month? Unacceptable. C'mon, Jay. Get your life together.
So I almost got in a fight on the subway today. It was the last day of working at David's Tea before heading home for Christmas. I finished at 4 and headed down to Union Square to check out the Christmas market and grab a special something for a brother of mine. I got a text from my friend I was meeting for dinner asking if we could make dinner at 7. I said that was fine, and had two hours to kill. So, I shoved my way on to the incredibly crowded 4 Uptown Express to grab another last-minute Christmas gift. The train was having one of those unbelievably, everybody-touching-everybody, breath-feeling-a-little-constricted crowded moments. A middle-aged man sat down in the fold down chair in the corner and proceeded to attempt to read his newspaper. At each stop more and more people shoved their way in. He began to feel crowded in his seat, and let me know by shaking his newspaper against my leg, asking how he was supposed to read. Caught off guard at first, I responded, 'What do you want me to do? There's literally nowhere I can go.' That quieted him, but I knew he wasn't satisfied. And now I was prepared to retort. When the next stop came and even more people shoved on, he started half-yelling again, griping about his inability to read his paper (as he sat while the rest of us were standing thigh to thigh), about my crotch in his face. I spoke much more forcefully this time, reminding him there was literally nowhere else for me to go, to which he responded that if I would stand my ground they wouldn't push me in. That was about all I could handle.
'Oh, give me a break. Okay, just get over it. There are other people trying to get on the train, it's not just you.'
He instructed me to 'stop being soft', and he edged ever-closer to being punched in the face.
'You need to chill out. Just chill out.' He believed I needed to chill out, and I was happy to inform him that I was chill, he didn't even need to worry about it. Grumble, grumble, grumble from him. He continued to attempt to intimidate me and I continued to throw it right back at him until a lovely young woman sitting across the way caught my eye and shook her head and in a single instant reminded me that everyone in the car was on my side, and I had nothing I really needed to defend. Arguing with idiots rarely gets you anywhere anyway. I proceeded to let him grumble to himself, ignore him, and not budge a single millimeter out of his way.
However. He wasn't getting off quite that easily. My stop came next and as I gathered my bag, I turned back to my friend sitting in his seat and said nice and loud, 'Have a good day!' The whole section of the subway erupted in giggles while Mr. Obnoxious began angrily grumbling even louder. I think the girl across the way may have clapped for me. I can't be too sure because I was admittedly walking away pretty fast in case he decided to jump on my back or something. A guy who'd been on the train with me came up behind me giggling as we made our way out of the subway. 'That guy was an asshole,' he said to me with a great big grin. I couldn't have agreed more.
As I walked down 86th St., I found myself incredibly thankful for that girl sitting across the way, a silent reminder of peace and reason. Thank God for people like that.
There's been so much that has happened since I last wrote that it's hard for me to know what to include, whether I should put it all in and write an essay or just simply explore my thoughts on life at the moment (aka, the usual). Perhaps a little of both.
So working at David's Tea has been a blast and a half. I really enjoy my job- I mean let's be real, there's times when I get annoyed and frustrated, but it's really ridiculously enjoyable and rewarding for the most part. We have finally moved into the Chelsea location all of us new people were actually hired for, and I got to set up and stock the new location with another girl, Ashley. It was such a surprisingly cool experience, seeing the store come together from a big, fat mess to ready to open in just a couple short days. Already, I have regulars at the store. There's a housewife that's come in several times and only drinks the teas I suggest to her, and waves and says hello to me when she passes in the street. I have a 'special drink' that has become somewhat of a legend. I can't reveal just how I make it, but I have not had a dissatisfied consumer yet, they frequently return for it again, and I've had multiple people I've never met come in, find me, and say their friend told them they had to come try 'Jay's Special Drink'. Gotta love that. I mean, I'm like a celebrity. (a celebri-tea? sorry, couldn't resist). Besides all that, I've made some pretty awesome friends. I hope the world doesn't actually end on Friday, because I'd really like to hang out with these people some more.
Still, even with all this job satisfaction flying around, I need more money. That led to one of the most bizarre and humiliating experiences I've ever had in New York City. Months ago, I applied to a company called Theatre Mama that my friend Gabrielle worked for. In a nutshell, they hand out fliers in Times Square. Their gimmick that supposedly makes them exceptional is that they send out performers, a la the tourists are attracted to the girls dancing around like they're in Chicago so they take a flier. Well, several weeks ago I got a call from them saying they'd like me to come in and interview, and told me to be prepared to move. I figured there was going to be some sort of movement/dance test, and I halfway didn't want to go because I figured I would be completely out of place with a bunch of other dancers. However, my friend and my mother talked me into it. I may never fully forgive either of them.
I arrived and two other girls were interviewing with me. It seemed quite normal at first. Then the woman running the interview told us she was going to leave for a little while and instructed us to think of clever things an angel would say on Earth. We had no idea what that meant, and pretty much brushed it off. Then the woman returned, carrying in her arms none other than giant, feathery, strap-on angel's wings for each of us. I began to contemplate just walking out. But I'm not a quitter. We strapped on those wings, she paraded us out onto the street, shoved some fliers into our hands and told us to be angels (as if it were the most divine idea she'd ever had)! As we 'frolicked' up and down Times Square she would shout things like, 'SLOW MOTION!' or 'MAKE A SCENE TOGETHER!' At one point one of the other girls passed me skipping and saying to herself, 'I want to die!' The feeling was mutual. When we had satisfied her at last (She thought we were all truly fabulous), the three of us trudged back in and at one point I turned to the other two and said, 'The things actors will do in New York.' To which one of the girls responded, 'Starbucks is not sounding so bad anymore.'
I got the job. So for the past month I've been having an intense inner debate about whether or not I'm willing to subject myself to that kind of humiliation (which could quite frequently include running into people I know) on a daily basis. The thing that makes the decision exceedingly difficult- It pays $17/hr. One day I was scheduled to work my first shift with them and I chickened out and called and told them I was sick. Since then I haven't had much communication with the company. I told one of my friends from David's about it and she told me she had a couple friends who did that for about two months and then quit because they wanted to kill themselves. I suppose I'll think about it more while I'm at home.
Home... Tomorrow I fly to Estes Park to be with my family. Amy and Julie are coming in a couple days, and then the whole Addison Clan will be reunited once more. I. Can't. Wait. Anyone who knows me well, knows that home is one of the most important ideas in the world to me. Ever since Thanksgiving, which I spent not with the whole family for the first time in my life, it's been a little tougher for me to push myself, find the drive that is so necessary to life and success in this city. I've looked eagerly forward to being home and not worrying about anything, not feeling guilty for being unproductive, not getting gloomy about my lack of superstardom (or even just mild success). Then a couple weeks ago, the pastor at our church spoke about 'waiting' as a Christian. He spoke of biblical figures who waited their whole lives for events, but never lost hope or gave up, and were even satisfied. It's very late at night, and I don't feel that I can explain it nearly as eloquently as he did, but suffice it to say it rejuvenated me in just the way I needed. It reminded me of remembering to be grateful for the things I have, even if they're not the plays and movies I would have loved to have been doing by now. It put into words what I so frequently can't (or at least can't anymore): That I have the knowledge in me that God has a special plan for me, a reason that I am where I am, that He's going to use me in a big way. And with that knowledge firm within me, the 'waiting' becomes so much less unbearable. It can be almost exciting.
Now don't misunderstand me. I know that nothing is ever going to be handed to me. 'Waiting' also requires work, and determination, and drive. What was so good about that day's message was that it reminded me why, even when nothing seems to come of my effort, I still have reason to keep trying (and keep believing). Since then, things have gotten better and better. I was thinking earlier tonight that I'm probably at the happiest place I've been in my life in quite some time.
It's Christmas. Love the good things in your life. Love people. Spread joy. I have been a firm believer in the magic of Christmas my entire life. The day we bought our Christmas tree and put on the pandora Christmas station there was children's choir singing, and I said to myself, 'It's really Christmas now. Time for me to start crying a lot.' Amy said, 'You cry a lot at Christmas?' To which Liz responded, 'You don't?!' God love that girl. She gets me. My point is this: There is so much beauty in the world at this time of year. Be a part of it. Make some more of it.
Merry Christmas!
So I almost got in a fight on the subway today. It was the last day of working at David's Tea before heading home for Christmas. I finished at 4 and headed down to Union Square to check out the Christmas market and grab a special something for a brother of mine. I got a text from my friend I was meeting for dinner asking if we could make dinner at 7. I said that was fine, and had two hours to kill. So, I shoved my way on to the incredibly crowded 4 Uptown Express to grab another last-minute Christmas gift. The train was having one of those unbelievably, everybody-touching-everybody, breath-feeling-a-little-constricted crowded moments. A middle-aged man sat down in the fold down chair in the corner and proceeded to attempt to read his newspaper. At each stop more and more people shoved their way in. He began to feel crowded in his seat, and let me know by shaking his newspaper against my leg, asking how he was supposed to read. Caught off guard at first, I responded, 'What do you want me to do? There's literally nowhere I can go.' That quieted him, but I knew he wasn't satisfied. And now I was prepared to retort. When the next stop came and even more people shoved on, he started half-yelling again, griping about his inability to read his paper (as he sat while the rest of us were standing thigh to thigh), about my crotch in his face. I spoke much more forcefully this time, reminding him there was literally nowhere else for me to go, to which he responded that if I would stand my ground they wouldn't push me in. That was about all I could handle.
'Oh, give me a break. Okay, just get over it. There are other people trying to get on the train, it's not just you.'
He instructed me to 'stop being soft', and he edged ever-closer to being punched in the face.
'You need to chill out. Just chill out.' He believed I needed to chill out, and I was happy to inform him that I was chill, he didn't even need to worry about it. Grumble, grumble, grumble from him. He continued to attempt to intimidate me and I continued to throw it right back at him until a lovely young woman sitting across the way caught my eye and shook her head and in a single instant reminded me that everyone in the car was on my side, and I had nothing I really needed to defend. Arguing with idiots rarely gets you anywhere anyway. I proceeded to let him grumble to himself, ignore him, and not budge a single millimeter out of his way.
However. He wasn't getting off quite that easily. My stop came next and as I gathered my bag, I turned back to my friend sitting in his seat and said nice and loud, 'Have a good day!' The whole section of the subway erupted in giggles while Mr. Obnoxious began angrily grumbling even louder. I think the girl across the way may have clapped for me. I can't be too sure because I was admittedly walking away pretty fast in case he decided to jump on my back or something. A guy who'd been on the train with me came up behind me giggling as we made our way out of the subway. 'That guy was an asshole,' he said to me with a great big grin. I couldn't have agreed more.
As I walked down 86th St., I found myself incredibly thankful for that girl sitting across the way, a silent reminder of peace and reason. Thank God for people like that.
There's been so much that has happened since I last wrote that it's hard for me to know what to include, whether I should put it all in and write an essay or just simply explore my thoughts on life at the moment (aka, the usual). Perhaps a little of both.
So working at David's Tea has been a blast and a half. I really enjoy my job- I mean let's be real, there's times when I get annoyed and frustrated, but it's really ridiculously enjoyable and rewarding for the most part. We have finally moved into the Chelsea location all of us new people were actually hired for, and I got to set up and stock the new location with another girl, Ashley. It was such a surprisingly cool experience, seeing the store come together from a big, fat mess to ready to open in just a couple short days. Already, I have regulars at the store. There's a housewife that's come in several times and only drinks the teas I suggest to her, and waves and says hello to me when she passes in the street. I have a 'special drink' that has become somewhat of a legend. I can't reveal just how I make it, but I have not had a dissatisfied consumer yet, they frequently return for it again, and I've had multiple people I've never met come in, find me, and say their friend told them they had to come try 'Jay's Special Drink'. Gotta love that. I mean, I'm like a celebrity. (a celebri-tea? sorry, couldn't resist). Besides all that, I've made some pretty awesome friends. I hope the world doesn't actually end on Friday, because I'd really like to hang out with these people some more.
Still, even with all this job satisfaction flying around, I need more money. That led to one of the most bizarre and humiliating experiences I've ever had in New York City. Months ago, I applied to a company called Theatre Mama that my friend Gabrielle worked for. In a nutshell, they hand out fliers in Times Square. Their gimmick that supposedly makes them exceptional is that they send out performers, a la the tourists are attracted to the girls dancing around like they're in Chicago so they take a flier. Well, several weeks ago I got a call from them saying they'd like me to come in and interview, and told me to be prepared to move. I figured there was going to be some sort of movement/dance test, and I halfway didn't want to go because I figured I would be completely out of place with a bunch of other dancers. However, my friend and my mother talked me into it. I may never fully forgive either of them.
I arrived and two other girls were interviewing with me. It seemed quite normal at first. Then the woman running the interview told us she was going to leave for a little while and instructed us to think of clever things an angel would say on Earth. We had no idea what that meant, and pretty much brushed it off. Then the woman returned, carrying in her arms none other than giant, feathery, strap-on angel's wings for each of us. I began to contemplate just walking out. But I'm not a quitter. We strapped on those wings, she paraded us out onto the street, shoved some fliers into our hands and told us to be angels (as if it were the most divine idea she'd ever had)! As we 'frolicked' up and down Times Square she would shout things like, 'SLOW MOTION!' or 'MAKE A SCENE TOGETHER!' At one point one of the other girls passed me skipping and saying to herself, 'I want to die!' The feeling was mutual. When we had satisfied her at last (She thought we were all truly fabulous), the three of us trudged back in and at one point I turned to the other two and said, 'The things actors will do in New York.' To which one of the girls responded, 'Starbucks is not sounding so bad anymore.'
I got the job. So for the past month I've been having an intense inner debate about whether or not I'm willing to subject myself to that kind of humiliation (which could quite frequently include running into people I know) on a daily basis. The thing that makes the decision exceedingly difficult- It pays $17/hr. One day I was scheduled to work my first shift with them and I chickened out and called and told them I was sick. Since then I haven't had much communication with the company. I told one of my friends from David's about it and she told me she had a couple friends who did that for about two months and then quit because they wanted to kill themselves. I suppose I'll think about it more while I'm at home.
Home... Tomorrow I fly to Estes Park to be with my family. Amy and Julie are coming in a couple days, and then the whole Addison Clan will be reunited once more. I. Can't. Wait. Anyone who knows me well, knows that home is one of the most important ideas in the world to me. Ever since Thanksgiving, which I spent not with the whole family for the first time in my life, it's been a little tougher for me to push myself, find the drive that is so necessary to life and success in this city. I've looked eagerly forward to being home and not worrying about anything, not feeling guilty for being unproductive, not getting gloomy about my lack of superstardom (or even just mild success). Then a couple weeks ago, the pastor at our church spoke about 'waiting' as a Christian. He spoke of biblical figures who waited their whole lives for events, but never lost hope or gave up, and were even satisfied. It's very late at night, and I don't feel that I can explain it nearly as eloquently as he did, but suffice it to say it rejuvenated me in just the way I needed. It reminded me of remembering to be grateful for the things I have, even if they're not the plays and movies I would have loved to have been doing by now. It put into words what I so frequently can't (or at least can't anymore): That I have the knowledge in me that God has a special plan for me, a reason that I am where I am, that He's going to use me in a big way. And with that knowledge firm within me, the 'waiting' becomes so much less unbearable. It can be almost exciting.
Now don't misunderstand me. I know that nothing is ever going to be handed to me. 'Waiting' also requires work, and determination, and drive. What was so good about that day's message was that it reminded me why, even when nothing seems to come of my effort, I still have reason to keep trying (and keep believing). Since then, things have gotten better and better. I was thinking earlier tonight that I'm probably at the happiest place I've been in my life in quite some time.
It's Christmas. Love the good things in your life. Love people. Spread joy. I have been a firm believer in the magic of Christmas my entire life. The day we bought our Christmas tree and put on the pandora Christmas station there was children's choir singing, and I said to myself, 'It's really Christmas now. Time for me to start crying a lot.' Amy said, 'You cry a lot at Christmas?' To which Liz responded, 'You don't?!' God love that girl. She gets me. My point is this: There is so much beauty in the world at this time of year. Be a part of it. Make some more of it.
Merry Christmas!
Friday, November 9, 2012
Working, Emoting, Striving (and, obviously, Writing)
I recently got asked for the link to my blog by a customer at work and realized I hadn't written anything in over a month. But I'm already getting ahead of myself.
I got the job at David's Tea! It's turned out to be just as delightful of a company as I imagined it to be. I love my manager, I love the people I work with (Most of them. Life is not perfect, you know.), and I love getting paid. My manager has told me more than once that people compliment me personally to him frequently, and I truly love that, especially because for the first several weeks I honestly had no idea what I was talking about. Natural-born salesman right here, folks! You get an incredibly wide variety of people in a tea shop in NYC, but perhaps I'll go into some specific David's Tea experiences another time.
I've had several very unique experiences lately. I went and had a 'trial run' as a personal assistant for a family in the village. They live in a truly gorgeous four-story townhouse with a friggin' backyard. I walked the dog, cleaned up the boys' bedrooms (despite their insistence it wasn't necessary as their mother insisted it was), did laundry, and shopped for and cooked dinner. Let's just say my mother got several texts that evening desperately seeking advice. She came through, as always. I haven't heard back from them yet, so I don't know if there will be a return adventure to the land of the much-richer-than-me. Ya never know, though.
On the performing front, I landed a gig in a cabaret without ever opening my mouth. I applied for something called Cranky Cabaret, where they only perform 'good and pissed off' songs. Going for broke, I sent them an 'angry' and apathetic email, with only the last line saying 'I hope this wasn't too much. I'd really like to be involved.' The next day I got a call saying it was the funniest response they'd ever gotten and they wanted me in the show whether I could sing or not. I guess Go Big or Go Home really works sometimes. Getting to the first rehearsal was an experience in and of itself. We'd gone to a pumpkin patch out on Long Island (a truly fantastic day), and I'd come home still unsure what I wanted to sing. I bought sheet music online for several options, then remembered my printer was dead. By this time I was already running late. So I rushed to Staples, and the music wouldn't print there either. The woman said their computers didn't have the right program. So I got on the train and just headed to the rehearsal (in Brooklyn) with only one song. Halfway there I realized I didn't even have a copy of the one song I had, which was half the point of this rehearsal- to give a copy to the accompanist. So I sprinted out of the subway and ran to a different Staples and copied the music. By the time I got to the apartment where they were rehearsing, I'd completely missed my slot and they'd already started the general information meeting. Praise the God, the two producers were incredibly laid back. They completely understood and I didn't even get chided. Other than that, I went on two auditions tonight (the first auditions I've gone to in weeks), both of which went well, one of which I think something might really come of. Now for the waiting.
Besides all of that... I guess you could say I'm a bit of a mess. But then again, am I ever not? I think being a mess is part of life, especially 20-something life (Yes, I am 21 years old now. Heaven help us). My emotions swing drastically from one end of the spectrum to the other at times. Not that long ago, I tried to go the Performing Arts Library at Lincoln Center all the way across town, and was in a fantastic mood, jamming to my ipod with the crisp fall air nipping at my nose. Then the library was closed. I tried to make use of being in that part of town by shopping for jeans, and I couldn't find a dang thing (I really hate shopping). I rode the bus back and was walking home thinking about how much of a mess my life was and how things just really weren't working out. Then I ran into an old friend and he asked if I'd lost weight and said it looked good on me. I walked away grinning and thinking how much I loved life. None of those emotions I just listed are exagerrated at all. That's three drastic mood swings in one afternoon. Sometimes I think there's something wrong with me. A couple days ago I went to see some friends of mine from school in their newest Company play (Company is third year at AADA, where you just do shows.). They were phenomenal. I couldn't help but sit in the audience thinking, 'That could have been me.' And then afterward when the cast and other school folk went out I tried to tag along, but I really just felt out of place. I chose differently than they did. I left there feeling strange and somewhat uneasy. Sometimes I think back and question all the decisions I've made, ponder all the 'what ifs'. It's not enjoyable.
But you know, that's the life of the artist. I feel my emotions in such enormous ways, and I believe that is what allows me to perform. At least that's what I like to tell myself. If I hadn't experienced that I wouldn't have been moved to write about it on here. It also reminded me again of how badly I want to succeed, and how much more I need to push myself.
And I have been doing better lately about seeing the good. Yesterday I stomped thru a blizzard to the subway with my umbrella blowing away and my feet drenched and slipping and sliding all over the place, and I loved every second of it. Tonight I went back to the Performing Arts Library, and Lincoln Center was all lit up at night with the fountain going and people arriving for the opera in their tuxes and gowns and the winter wind gusting through the square, and Don't Rain On My Parade playing on my ipod. I mean, can you get any more New York than that? It was beautiful.
I recently read the blog of a friend of mine, Jason Spina (http://theresalotonmymind.wordpress.com/), and he decided from the start that he didn't want to write a blog just about himself. He didn't pride himself that the inner workings of his mind were of that much interest or importance. I find that very admirable. Obviously, it's not a principle I hold myself to.
I think that's because, in the end, it's really all I have; that's really all I've ever had. My feelings, my thoughts, and my heart. It's all I have to give, and I want to give it all. I always have, I guess in hope that someone finds it dynamic, that it can affect someone, move them, entertain them. So I will continue to pour my heart out, in writing, acting, singing, speaking, dance, anything. Because it's all I know and all I have, and I want to share it. I have to give it.
I got the job at David's Tea! It's turned out to be just as delightful of a company as I imagined it to be. I love my manager, I love the people I work with (Most of them. Life is not perfect, you know.), and I love getting paid. My manager has told me more than once that people compliment me personally to him frequently, and I truly love that, especially because for the first several weeks I honestly had no idea what I was talking about. Natural-born salesman right here, folks! You get an incredibly wide variety of people in a tea shop in NYC, but perhaps I'll go into some specific David's Tea experiences another time.
I've had several very unique experiences lately. I went and had a 'trial run' as a personal assistant for a family in the village. They live in a truly gorgeous four-story townhouse with a friggin' backyard. I walked the dog, cleaned up the boys' bedrooms (despite their insistence it wasn't necessary as their mother insisted it was), did laundry, and shopped for and cooked dinner. Let's just say my mother got several texts that evening desperately seeking advice. She came through, as always. I haven't heard back from them yet, so I don't know if there will be a return adventure to the land of the much-richer-than-me. Ya never know, though.
On the performing front, I landed a gig in a cabaret without ever opening my mouth. I applied for something called Cranky Cabaret, where they only perform 'good and pissed off' songs. Going for broke, I sent them an 'angry' and apathetic email, with only the last line saying 'I hope this wasn't too much. I'd really like to be involved.' The next day I got a call saying it was the funniest response they'd ever gotten and they wanted me in the show whether I could sing or not. I guess Go Big or Go Home really works sometimes. Getting to the first rehearsal was an experience in and of itself. We'd gone to a pumpkin patch out on Long Island (a truly fantastic day), and I'd come home still unsure what I wanted to sing. I bought sheet music online for several options, then remembered my printer was dead. By this time I was already running late. So I rushed to Staples, and the music wouldn't print there either. The woman said their computers didn't have the right program. So I got on the train and just headed to the rehearsal (in Brooklyn) with only one song. Halfway there I realized I didn't even have a copy of the one song I had, which was half the point of this rehearsal- to give a copy to the accompanist. So I sprinted out of the subway and ran to a different Staples and copied the music. By the time I got to the apartment where they were rehearsing, I'd completely missed my slot and they'd already started the general information meeting. Praise the God, the two producers were incredibly laid back. They completely understood and I didn't even get chided. Other than that, I went on two auditions tonight (the first auditions I've gone to in weeks), both of which went well, one of which I think something might really come of. Now for the waiting.
Besides all of that... I guess you could say I'm a bit of a mess. But then again, am I ever not? I think being a mess is part of life, especially 20-something life (Yes, I am 21 years old now. Heaven help us). My emotions swing drastically from one end of the spectrum to the other at times. Not that long ago, I tried to go the Performing Arts Library at Lincoln Center all the way across town, and was in a fantastic mood, jamming to my ipod with the crisp fall air nipping at my nose. Then the library was closed. I tried to make use of being in that part of town by shopping for jeans, and I couldn't find a dang thing (I really hate shopping). I rode the bus back and was walking home thinking about how much of a mess my life was and how things just really weren't working out. Then I ran into an old friend and he asked if I'd lost weight and said it looked good on me. I walked away grinning and thinking how much I loved life. None of those emotions I just listed are exagerrated at all. That's three drastic mood swings in one afternoon. Sometimes I think there's something wrong with me. A couple days ago I went to see some friends of mine from school in their newest Company play (Company is third year at AADA, where you just do shows.). They were phenomenal. I couldn't help but sit in the audience thinking, 'That could have been me.' And then afterward when the cast and other school folk went out I tried to tag along, but I really just felt out of place. I chose differently than they did. I left there feeling strange and somewhat uneasy. Sometimes I think back and question all the decisions I've made, ponder all the 'what ifs'. It's not enjoyable.
But you know, that's the life of the artist. I feel my emotions in such enormous ways, and I believe that is what allows me to perform. At least that's what I like to tell myself. If I hadn't experienced that I wouldn't have been moved to write about it on here. It also reminded me again of how badly I want to succeed, and how much more I need to push myself.
And I have been doing better lately about seeing the good. Yesterday I stomped thru a blizzard to the subway with my umbrella blowing away and my feet drenched and slipping and sliding all over the place, and I loved every second of it. Tonight I went back to the Performing Arts Library, and Lincoln Center was all lit up at night with the fountain going and people arriving for the opera in their tuxes and gowns and the winter wind gusting through the square, and Don't Rain On My Parade playing on my ipod. I mean, can you get any more New York than that? It was beautiful.
I recently read the blog of a friend of mine, Jason Spina (http://theresalotonmymind.wordpress.com/), and he decided from the start that he didn't want to write a blog just about himself. He didn't pride himself that the inner workings of his mind were of that much interest or importance. I find that very admirable. Obviously, it's not a principle I hold myself to.
I think that's because, in the end, it's really all I have; that's really all I've ever had. My feelings, my thoughts, and my heart. It's all I have to give, and I want to give it all. I always have, I guess in hope that someone finds it dynamic, that it can affect someone, move them, entertain them. So I will continue to pour my heart out, in writing, acting, singing, speaking, dance, anything. Because it's all I know and all I have, and I want to share it. I have to give it.
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Opening nights, job hunts, life questions, etc.
Last week I performed on a real (aka non-school) NYC stage for the first time. It was a charming little play called Gastroenteritis on the F Train. I can't remember if I've told this story yet, so I'll tell it now- I first got cast in this play in a tiny one-line role as a homeless man. I went after it full-throttle, doing all my actor homework and asking all those oh-so-important questions like why he was homeless and what caused him to perform on the subway and did he have a mental illness, etc, etc, etc. Then after the first two rehearsals I got an email from the director saying that the leading man had dropped out and they would like me to step up and take his place. I did so.
We rehearsed in public for this show because none of us had the money to pay for a rehearsal space; since the show takes place on the subway, rehearsing in public actually proved appropo. There's nothing like staging a conversation between a male makeup artist, an Indian woman in a Sari, and an East Village hipster in the Winter Gardens downtown to make you forget your shame, which is what acting is all about. Still. This character didn't come easily, for some reason. I don't know if it had to do with mindset, unresolved feelings about replacing the original actor, or what. But Opening Night came and went without me feeling any of the satisfaction that comes from a performance well done.
So I began to pray. I asked God to help me be the best I could be, to cleanse me of the self-doubt that would hold me back, and to help me deliver the good message I believe is in the character I was playing. I believe He has guided and will continue to guide me to the parts I'm supposed to play aka He puts me in projects for a reason. I told Him I trusted that. Then I did my homework, and applied the training I learned at AADA. I determined conclusively my moment before. I figured out exactly what my character's deepest underlying want was. I swallowed my pride and massaged my face and stretched out my body in the dressing room before the show. And I went on the next night and the audience loved it and I felt that rush of perfect performance that I live for. The night after was much the same.
And it made it all worth it. Everything. Every moment of disbelief, of doubt, of rejection, disappointment, stress EVER. I have always said (at least to myself) that true actors are built differently than normal people. There is something in us that feeds directly off of delivering great entertainment to people. It wasn't some kind of grand run of a play, and we didn't even advance to the next level of our competition. But being what that audience, no matter how small, wanted to see, guiding them through emotions and a journey and laughter... That's what I'm here for. That's what it's all about.
It's been a tough time. I'm still unemployed, and every resume and cover letter I send out that gets no response feels like another blow to my ego. I don't understand how I let myself get to such a bad place with money, and I can't understand why I can't find a freaking job. Naturally, this brings out all of the other emotions I usually push down: stress, frustration at my lack of social life, worry about my career, and just about every other negative thought you can imagine- I've probably felt it over the past year. I send a text and it gets ignored. I go to an audition and the person behind the table never even looks up. All these things have built up in me a sort of defense mechanism that is always there to remind me: No one is going to give anything to me. I'm going to have to fight for myself.
But something kinda miraculous happened tonight. For the last several months I've been talking with a few friends about starting our own theater company, and all it would imply, and what we would want it to be, so forth and so on. Recently, we did it. We registered with the IRS and started it up; they all had the money to contribute to make that happen. I didn't. I was tasked with researching our first play. At the time, it pretty much felt like just another burden. It was certainly another reminder that I don't even have a source of income while everyone I know does. And because it's been hard for me lately to focus on anything acting-related, I really didn't do anything about it for the past few weeks. A few days ago I had to send the guys an email explaining that I hadn't done the work they'd asked me to do, and I still couldn't contribute monetarily and I'm doing my best which, as seems to be the case lately, is not good enough, blah, blah, blah. And I pretty much expected a response of disappointment and dwindled friendship.
Tonight they responded. This is what it said (I hope they don't mind me sharing):
We rehearsed in public for this show because none of us had the money to pay for a rehearsal space; since the show takes place on the subway, rehearsing in public actually proved appropo. There's nothing like staging a conversation between a male makeup artist, an Indian woman in a Sari, and an East Village hipster in the Winter Gardens downtown to make you forget your shame, which is what acting is all about. Still. This character didn't come easily, for some reason. I don't know if it had to do with mindset, unresolved feelings about replacing the original actor, or what. But Opening Night came and went without me feeling any of the satisfaction that comes from a performance well done.
So I began to pray. I asked God to help me be the best I could be, to cleanse me of the self-doubt that would hold me back, and to help me deliver the good message I believe is in the character I was playing. I believe He has guided and will continue to guide me to the parts I'm supposed to play aka He puts me in projects for a reason. I told Him I trusted that. Then I did my homework, and applied the training I learned at AADA. I determined conclusively my moment before. I figured out exactly what my character's deepest underlying want was. I swallowed my pride and massaged my face and stretched out my body in the dressing room before the show. And I went on the next night and the audience loved it and I felt that rush of perfect performance that I live for. The night after was much the same.
And it made it all worth it. Everything. Every moment of disbelief, of doubt, of rejection, disappointment, stress EVER. I have always said (at least to myself) that true actors are built differently than normal people. There is something in us that feeds directly off of delivering great entertainment to people. It wasn't some kind of grand run of a play, and we didn't even advance to the next level of our competition. But being what that audience, no matter how small, wanted to see, guiding them through emotions and a journey and laughter... That's what I'm here for. That's what it's all about.
It's been a tough time. I'm still unemployed, and every resume and cover letter I send out that gets no response feels like another blow to my ego. I don't understand how I let myself get to such a bad place with money, and I can't understand why I can't find a freaking job. Naturally, this brings out all of the other emotions I usually push down: stress, frustration at my lack of social life, worry about my career, and just about every other negative thought you can imagine- I've probably felt it over the past year. I send a text and it gets ignored. I go to an audition and the person behind the table never even looks up. All these things have built up in me a sort of defense mechanism that is always there to remind me: No one is going to give anything to me. I'm going to have to fight for myself.
But something kinda miraculous happened tonight. For the last several months I've been talking with a few friends about starting our own theater company, and all it would imply, and what we would want it to be, so forth and so on. Recently, we did it. We registered with the IRS and started it up; they all had the money to contribute to make that happen. I didn't. I was tasked with researching our first play. At the time, it pretty much felt like just another burden. It was certainly another reminder that I don't even have a source of income while everyone I know does. And because it's been hard for me lately to focus on anything acting-related, I really didn't do anything about it for the past few weeks. A few days ago I had to send the guys an email explaining that I hadn't done the work they'd asked me to do, and I still couldn't contribute monetarily and I'm doing my best which, as seems to be the case lately, is not good enough, blah, blah, blah. And I pretty much expected a response of disappointment and dwindled friendship.
Tonight they responded. This is what it said (I hope they don't mind me sharing):
James,
I
spoke with Emily and Betsy and we totally understand your position.
We've all been there before and we certainly don't want to burden you
with an extra obligation. If you think taking a back seat for a while
would give you time to get on your feet then by all means do it. None of
us want to completely kick you out of the company, as we love
collaborating with you. That being said, the last thing we want is for
you to feel obligated to us; we know this is a big investment, both
mentally and financially. Let us know what you would like to do, and not
matter what, we will support you. If you'd like to just be a company
member and have less background work, we can do that. If you'd like to
take time to focus on jobs and come back on in full once you've found a
job, that's great. If your heart's not in starting a company right now,
we get that too and we'd call you when we start auditioning because we'd
still love to work with you. Just let us know what feels right, and we
will support you.
Just Get done what
you need to and we'll take care of everything for now. Let us know
when/if you'd like to rejoin in full capacity and There's always a spot
for you!
That may not seem all that miraculous to you, but to me it was like a reminder of good in the world (at least a reminder of good in the entertainment world). It was a reminder that feeling sorry for yourself never helped anybody, and expecting the worst is the worst thing to expect. I will try and thank those guys for being so understanding, but I doubt words can express how much that email meant to me.
Right now I'm with my parents and sisters in the Poconos Mountains. It's so beautiful, and so relaxing, and they're helping me get back on track with good feeling. I recently went to a group interview for a company called David's Tea that I apparently didn't get hired by but will continue apply to because it sounds awesome. As part of the interview we were supposed to bring in an object that had personal meaning to us and talk about it for the group. At first I had no idea what to bring, but then I realized I was wearing it: My old T-Shirt from Wind in the Willows at the HCPAC in Athens, Tx.- the very first leading role I ever played, and the first show at that theater that shaped me so much. I told them about how I like to wear it at the apartment as a little piece of home. I talked about how I realized how much it meant to me when it recently got stained and I thought it was ruined (luckily, I was able to fix it). I told them about how it was a daily reminder of why I am where I am: Because I love performing. I love entertaining people. I really think it was what I was made to do. It's my way of helping the world, and I believe in the power of entertainment to do that.
So I have a task ahead of me. To return to the city on Monday and stay diligent about the job hunt and GET HIRED. To begin to rid myself of the cynicism that has become such a part of my thinking and trade it in for a renewed belief in the good of people and life. To rediscover zeal and confidence and happy-go-lucky-ness. To acknowledge and deal with the deeper-rooted issues that lead me into these negative feelings. And to trust. To remember why I'm here. To commit myself. To become a better person (That's not to much to ask, right?)
((No. I don't think it is.))
(((Wish me luck.)))
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Desperately Seeking Employment
Good news: New York has FINALLY cooled down, and is beginning to settle into Heavenly Fall Weather (HFW, for short). My nights are no longer spent tossing and turning due to heat (not to worry, there's still my overactive mind to keep me awake), I'm wearing jeans every day, and I don't feel like a big, red sweat monster.
Since my last posting, the leading actor in the show I was cast in, Gastroenteritis on the F Train, dropped out, and I was asked to step up and replace him. I am thrilled to announce that I will at last be making my New York stage debut in a little less than a week, playing the lead! When it happened, it was like a little mini-miracle. I'd just gotten back from doing laundry (an always stressful experience) and was hot and stressed and worrying about money and cursing New York and myself for living here. Then I opened my email and had a message saying they wanted me to play the lead. I guess it was a reminder to count my blessings.
This play is part of a contest of new One-Acts, so depending on audience votes, we may get to perform again. Because it's such a start up thing, we've been rehearsing in public. Since the show is set on a subway train, this is probably actually good practice (Maybe the director is actually a secret genius??!?!), but it has presented some interesting scenarios. With one girl pretending to vomit into a bag, me loudly sharing with her my life story of moving from California to New York to become a makeup artist, and another girl pushing me into a shouting match that ends in my being beatn with a book, there's been some stares from passersby. Still. Just to be in a show, to be working on acting in New York City... I hope I never stop appreciating that.
Of course, every cloud has a silver lining; you haven't heard about the cloud yet. I'm broke. I put off looking for a job for far too long, and now am living with a constant churning in my gut about how little money I have in my bank account. I apply for jobs every day, but thus far have had no response whatsoever. It's especially frustrating because so many restaurants in this city (I would most like to be a server) won't even consider you unless you have years of New York experience. Someone recently told me people lie about that- the thought had never occurred to me. I just don't think I'm comfortable with that. I went to an open call for servers at a new steakhouse opening, Tao Lavo, and they had an impromptu questionnaire about alcohol, what goes with what, name these types, blah, blah, blah. When I couldn't answer them the guy (admittedly, very politely) said I needed to get more experience. The infuriating thing was that I could have learned everything on that sheet in one night. Then I went and looked at the places he told me I should apply to, and every single one said they didn't accept people without 2 years New York experience.
Of course, there's also the obnoxious, non-personal, all-online method of hiring that almost everyone subscribes to these days. One of the first days I was back, I walked down to 86th St. to go door-to-door at restaurants, asking if they were hiring. The first one I went to, Uno's, said yes they were, please apply online. I did so. A few days later I called to follow up. They said in a hurried manner to please not call them, they would call me. This country has become so technology-reliant. Anyway, enough ranting.
I believe God has a plan. I believe I am here for a reason. It's unfortunate because I can't really enjoy the blessings I have because I'm so constantly worried about money. I suppose the lesson is to appreciate the things I have, despite the struggles. Well... I've learned the lesson. Can someone please give me a job now?
I spent a lovely afternoon/evening with some friends I hadn't seen in a long time yesterday, and I'm thankful for that. I'm rehearsing a show with a great part and lovely cast, and I'm thankful for that. I have a family that loves me, two of which are with me here, and I'm thankful for that. I'm thankful for all of these things, I truly am. I will also be very thankful when I find a job.
Since my last posting, the leading actor in the show I was cast in, Gastroenteritis on the F Train, dropped out, and I was asked to step up and replace him. I am thrilled to announce that I will at last be making my New York stage debut in a little less than a week, playing the lead! When it happened, it was like a little mini-miracle. I'd just gotten back from doing laundry (an always stressful experience) and was hot and stressed and worrying about money and cursing New York and myself for living here. Then I opened my email and had a message saying they wanted me to play the lead. I guess it was a reminder to count my blessings.
This play is part of a contest of new One-Acts, so depending on audience votes, we may get to perform again. Because it's such a start up thing, we've been rehearsing in public. Since the show is set on a subway train, this is probably actually good practice (Maybe the director is actually a secret genius??!?!), but it has presented some interesting scenarios. With one girl pretending to vomit into a bag, me loudly sharing with her my life story of moving from California to New York to become a makeup artist, and another girl pushing me into a shouting match that ends in my being beatn with a book, there's been some stares from passersby. Still. Just to be in a show, to be working on acting in New York City... I hope I never stop appreciating that.
Of course, every cloud has a silver lining; you haven't heard about the cloud yet. I'm broke. I put off looking for a job for far too long, and now am living with a constant churning in my gut about how little money I have in my bank account. I apply for jobs every day, but thus far have had no response whatsoever. It's especially frustrating because so many restaurants in this city (I would most like to be a server) won't even consider you unless you have years of New York experience. Someone recently told me people lie about that- the thought had never occurred to me. I just don't think I'm comfortable with that. I went to an open call for servers at a new steakhouse opening, Tao Lavo, and they had an impromptu questionnaire about alcohol, what goes with what, name these types, blah, blah, blah. When I couldn't answer them the guy (admittedly, very politely) said I needed to get more experience. The infuriating thing was that I could have learned everything on that sheet in one night. Then I went and looked at the places he told me I should apply to, and every single one said they didn't accept people without 2 years New York experience.
Of course, there's also the obnoxious, non-personal, all-online method of hiring that almost everyone subscribes to these days. One of the first days I was back, I walked down to 86th St. to go door-to-door at restaurants, asking if they were hiring. The first one I went to, Uno's, said yes they were, please apply online. I did so. A few days later I called to follow up. They said in a hurried manner to please not call them, they would call me. This country has become so technology-reliant. Anyway, enough ranting.
I believe God has a plan. I believe I am here for a reason. It's unfortunate because I can't really enjoy the blessings I have because I'm so constantly worried about money. I suppose the lesson is to appreciate the things I have, despite the struggles. Well... I've learned the lesson. Can someone please give me a job now?
I spent a lovely afternoon/evening with some friends I hadn't seen in a long time yesterday, and I'm thankful for that. I'm rehearsing a show with a great part and lovely cast, and I'm thankful for that. I have a family that loves me, two of which are with me here, and I'm thankful for that. I'm thankful for all of these things, I truly am. I will also be very thankful when I find a job.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Called to something different...
I'm back in NYC for the long haul. After my previous post, I returned to Estes Park for a couple weeks to take care of little brother Sam while Mom and Dad took Ben to college at A&M- another Aggie! Whoop! (I am the biggest Aggie fan that never attended Texas A&M)
It was another fantastic break from the heat of NYC in summer, and the stress of living right in the middle of everything I need to be doing. I hiked, I read, I cooked, I sat in a chair and watched movies. I strengthened friendships. And I prepared myself to return to the city and work at what I believe I was made to do.
During the week and a half I was here, I auditioned for a new play called Gastroenteritis on the F Train, part of Manhattan Theatre Rep's One Act Play competition. I had received the sides ahead of time, worked at them, got a real feel for them, prepared, and was looking forward to the audition. I walked in the room the day of and everything felt dead. An audition that I had been looking forward to for days was falling completely flat right in front of my eyes. Needless to say, I left the building more than a little upset, and completely ready to go home.
That night I got an email saying I had been given a part.
Who can say why it happened. Was I a second choice? Did I completely misinterpret the audition? I'd like to think it was because they saw something in me, something special that even my bad auditioning couldn't hide. Something that I've always felt was in me.
It's a small part in a small play, but I couldn't be more thankful for it. I couldn't be more thankful for any opportunity to not only do what I love, but share part of myself.
Over the course of being away I came to a realization, one that I think I've known, but had gotten pushed aside and forgotten somewhere along the way: I'm not doing this for me. I'm doing this because to serve others, and because God has given me a dream and a drive. When Judith Light visited my school last year, she talked about how she believes entertainment is a service industry, and rarely has anything made more sense to me. I truly believe I am meant to serve in that way. Sometmes I lay in my bed late at night and I think that I just can't do enough, I just can't give enough. I want to give it all, everything, because that's why I do what I do. To share. To move. To change. To help. To entertain. And I can always give more of myself in pursuit of that ideal.
I look at the people I most admire, and how tirelessly they have worked over the years to be the best they can be. And I want that. I want to share and give all of myself so that maybe I can one day be that to someone else. I could kick myself (and have done so) sometimes because of my laziness. If I can't work toward this every day, then what am I doing?
I don't really know what the point of this post is. I felt the need to write, so I did. Sometimes I look at myself and I think how foolish I am, how ridiculously seriously I take all this, and how much I overestimate myself. But there's always another little something even deeper down inside that tells me to not give up. So I'm not going to quit giving myself. No matter how charming a normal life sounds, I can't do that right now. It's not how I was programmed. There's something in me that draws me to this lifestyle. I will follow that call.
It was another fantastic break from the heat of NYC in summer, and the stress of living right in the middle of everything I need to be doing. I hiked, I read, I cooked, I sat in a chair and watched movies. I strengthened friendships. And I prepared myself to return to the city and work at what I believe I was made to do.
During the week and a half I was here, I auditioned for a new play called Gastroenteritis on the F Train, part of Manhattan Theatre Rep's One Act Play competition. I had received the sides ahead of time, worked at them, got a real feel for them, prepared, and was looking forward to the audition. I walked in the room the day of and everything felt dead. An audition that I had been looking forward to for days was falling completely flat right in front of my eyes. Needless to say, I left the building more than a little upset, and completely ready to go home.
That night I got an email saying I had been given a part.
Who can say why it happened. Was I a second choice? Did I completely misinterpret the audition? I'd like to think it was because they saw something in me, something special that even my bad auditioning couldn't hide. Something that I've always felt was in me.
It's a small part in a small play, but I couldn't be more thankful for it. I couldn't be more thankful for any opportunity to not only do what I love, but share part of myself.
Over the course of being away I came to a realization, one that I think I've known, but had gotten pushed aside and forgotten somewhere along the way: I'm not doing this for me. I'm doing this because to serve others, and because God has given me a dream and a drive. When Judith Light visited my school last year, she talked about how she believes entertainment is a service industry, and rarely has anything made more sense to me. I truly believe I am meant to serve in that way. Sometmes I lay in my bed late at night and I think that I just can't do enough, I just can't give enough. I want to give it all, everything, because that's why I do what I do. To share. To move. To change. To help. To entertain. And I can always give more of myself in pursuit of that ideal.
I look at the people I most admire, and how tirelessly they have worked over the years to be the best they can be. And I want that. I want to share and give all of myself so that maybe I can one day be that to someone else. I could kick myself (and have done so) sometimes because of my laziness. If I can't work toward this every day, then what am I doing?
I don't really know what the point of this post is. I felt the need to write, so I did. Sometimes I look at myself and I think how foolish I am, how ridiculously seriously I take all this, and how much I overestimate myself. But there's always another little something even deeper down inside that tells me to not give up. So I'm not going to quit giving myself. No matter how charming a normal life sounds, I can't do that right now. It's not how I was programmed. There's something in me that draws me to this lifestyle. I will follow that call.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Back to NYC after a month away
I spent the last month having a decidedly NON-New York Experience. I made the decision to run away from the sweltering heat and steadily building discontent of NYC and fly home for a couple weeks. A couple weeks turned into three with a mission trip tacked on the end; I loved every minute of it. Partially because I didn't have to worry about becoming a sweat-dripping, red-faced monster when I stepped out the door, but mostly because I didn't have to worry, period. That's such a fantastic, indescribable, wonderful feeling. It's also, unfortunately, not reality. Not past the age of 18.
Now it's true that God tells us not to worry, and I understand what He means; My eventual destination is secured, and I have a really big helper on my side. So, from the big perspective, life is pretty carefree. But life while we're living it is full of, if not worry, then thinking. Choosing. Taking action. Making mistakes. Struggle is what life is made of. Perhaps we'll get back to that in a bit.
I spent last week in El Salvador at an orphanage called Casa Hogar Jehovah Jireh. My family and I stayed there before when we were on our six-month Central American extravaganza. It's supported by a wonderful company called SHIP and is filled with the sweetest, kindest, most loving kids I've ever known. It's hard for me to even think back on them right now without being overcome; these kids are amazing. We planted gardens and built showers and delivered quail coops and took kids to waterparks and it was a truly fantastic week. It was also a week of much self-examination. I can't speak highly enough of the people that were on the trip with me, both my family and the others there. Such fearlessness, such a complete lack of inhibition or conceitedness; it's hard for me to explicate clearly so I guess I'll put it this way: If I learned one thing from last week it's how much I'm stuck in my head and how often that makes me selfish. How often do I think of myself before others? How can I serve like that? All "spirituality" aside, how much do I limit myself in that way, by overanalyzing instead of just jumping in and DOING?
How many people would meet me and get an impression even close to what I think of those kids? If they can afford to live with such love surely I can too.
I think somewhere in there there's an answer to the musings up at the top; at the very least there's some wisdom. When all I think of is myself, I'm bound to get a little sick of the same thing over and over. If I overanalyze every situation I'll never be surprised. And if I can learn to see struggle, obstacle, work as the stuff life is made of, the stuff that makes living being alive, then I might just start greeting life a little bit more like those kids. Did I just make sense? I'm not sure, but I think I needed to write it.
So all of my problems are solved, yes? No, certainly not. I'm still an unemployed actor who feels more alone than ever in the most crowded city in America, and once I figure me out I can move on to life's other great unsolved mysteries such as how to stay fit while eating what I want, is bigfoot real, and why can't I keep track of a set of fingernail clippers ever. But I may be able to get some sleep tonight now.
On my last night at the orphanage one of the kids slid a bracelet they made onto my wrist. I intend to wear it FOREVER... or at least until it falls apart. Just as a little reminder of how I want to live my life: With love.
Now it's true that God tells us not to worry, and I understand what He means; My eventual destination is secured, and I have a really big helper on my side. So, from the big perspective, life is pretty carefree. But life while we're living it is full of, if not worry, then thinking. Choosing. Taking action. Making mistakes. Struggle is what life is made of. Perhaps we'll get back to that in a bit.
I spent last week in El Salvador at an orphanage called Casa Hogar Jehovah Jireh. My family and I stayed there before when we were on our six-month Central American extravaganza. It's supported by a wonderful company called SHIP and is filled with the sweetest, kindest, most loving kids I've ever known. It's hard for me to even think back on them right now without being overcome; these kids are amazing. We planted gardens and built showers and delivered quail coops and took kids to waterparks and it was a truly fantastic week. It was also a week of much self-examination. I can't speak highly enough of the people that were on the trip with me, both my family and the others there. Such fearlessness, such a complete lack of inhibition or conceitedness; it's hard for me to explicate clearly so I guess I'll put it this way: If I learned one thing from last week it's how much I'm stuck in my head and how often that makes me selfish. How often do I think of myself before others? How can I serve like that? All "spirituality" aside, how much do I limit myself in that way, by overanalyzing instead of just jumping in and DOING?
How many people would meet me and get an impression even close to what I think of those kids? If they can afford to live with such love surely I can too.
I think somewhere in there there's an answer to the musings up at the top; at the very least there's some wisdom. When all I think of is myself, I'm bound to get a little sick of the same thing over and over. If I overanalyze every situation I'll never be surprised. And if I can learn to see struggle, obstacle, work as the stuff life is made of, the stuff that makes living being alive, then I might just start greeting life a little bit more like those kids. Did I just make sense? I'm not sure, but I think I needed to write it.
So all of my problems are solved, yes? No, certainly not. I'm still an unemployed actor who feels more alone than ever in the most crowded city in America, and once I figure me out I can move on to life's other great unsolved mysteries such as how to stay fit while eating what I want, is bigfoot real, and why can't I keep track of a set of fingernail clippers ever. But I may be able to get some sleep tonight now.
On my last night at the orphanage one of the kids slid a bracelet they made onto my wrist. I intend to wear it FOREVER... or at least until it falls apart. Just as a little reminder of how I want to live my life: With love.
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