I'm in the Most Successful Period of My Life

It's been a long time since I've written on here.

It's not been for lack of interesting things happening. I don't want to overexcite my legion of faithful fans (You guys exist, right?), but I seem to be in the most successful phase of my life thus far.

I recently participated in a second Cranky Cabaret, an always-fun, tune-filled, open bar evening. It was both successful and a bit of a train wreck. The first night I went up to sing my first song, the not-funny-at-all Can't Make You Love Me by Bonnie Raitt, and the accompanist and I were not in the same key. It was really neither of our fault- We weren't given enough time to practice beforehand, we hadn't communicated well on how she was going to do the intro. It was one of those mortifying, nothing-you-can-do-but-keep-going moments, and I kinda wanted to kill myself. I pulled myself together and did my much-funnier duet with the fabulous Lauren Green famously, and then when my second solo at the end of Act 2 came, I went up with a plan. My song, the modern classic Bust Your Windows, needed an introduction: I was a white guy singing a black girl's revenge anthem. So I explained that when bad things happen to me, my inner strong black woman emerges. I began to list examples: 'Your boss is an asshole. A bitch on the subway. You start singing your song in the wrong key at Cranky Cabaret and have to redeem yourself with your second song. You know, hypothetical situations.' And with that, I had the audience back on my side. They laughed and applauded. Afterward several people complimented me on handling the situation absolutely perfectly. The simple fact was that I couldn't just ignore it. The next night the Cabaret as a whole went pretty much perfectly, but while it still mortifies me, I'm able to look back and see the good of completely botching a song: It showed me that 1) Even when I totally bomb, I can keep going and do a good job, and 2) People always respond best to honesty. The acknowledgement of my failure and my intentions to recover from it was the perfect first step in winning the crowd back. It sounds much less significant when written here, but I think it was actually one of the best things I've learned since moving to the city.

I also just participated in a short play that was part of the Take Ten festival, executive produced by my friend Graydon Gund. Grady is always reliable for a unique, whirlwind rehearsal process. We didn't win, but it was so good to get back in front of an audience again.

And finally, The Survivalists. My theatre company is legit, you guys. Our grassroots fundraising campaign is coming to fruition in ways we only hoped for. We're producing an absolutely fantastic new show called 3x3, or 9 after 9 by Shane Breaux, Kevin Brewer, and Michael Christopher, and we just finished initial auditions with over 600 submissions with callbacks set for Tuesday. We're in the process of signing a contract with a publicist who reached out to us personally. And last Thursday we threw an unbelievably successful launch party/fundraiser where we raised over $1000 and took over an UES bar and had one of the most fun nights of my life. For those who haven't been following this as it unfolds (What are you doing with your life??), our show bows the first two weeks of June at the Access Theatre downtown. Follow us on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/theatreofthefittest), Twitter (I'm in charge of it! @survivalistsnyc), and our website (http://thesurvivalists.org/). We're the real deal, y'all.

It's been a busy, stressful, exciting time. I hope it stays that way. I have so much more I want to do. I'm desperate to make a webseries or movie or SOMETHING (seriously, anyone interested, let me know). I plan to start a youtube channel soon for music. I'm so ready to start taking classes again. Anything, just to keep moving.

Because sitting still lends itself to self-examination and over-thinking, and those things rarely lead to good things. Despite all the good that's going on, in the quiet times I still find myself wondering when I'll ever get my life together. There's so much about myself I still don't understand, or am uncomfortable with. I'm frequently tempted to make a list of all the things I'd like to change about myself. I still may,  but only under the strict agreement with myself that I will balance it with a list of things about myself that I love.

I'm sure some people would say that staying busy for the sake of avoiding deeper problems is not really healthy, but I would counter that with an opposite theory: If your work and activity become your whole life, don't the other problems start becoming much smaller issues than they previously were? Still. I will always continue to try and transform myself into a better, more complete person. Lately I've been wondering: When will I stop imagining the fabulous life I'm going to live and start actually living it? I'm tired of wishing I'd gone to things, of making up excuses to stay in, or passing up opportunities. I'm tired of wishing I could lose that weight. I'm tired of wishing I would do more worthwhile things with my time.

Which brings me to this blog. I'm undecided as to what it should become. Simply talking about my life has started to seem a little dull to me, and perhaps a bit self-serving (though always remarkably therapeutic). I will continue to update my faithful friends and family on exciting things in my life, but I'd like to write about something a little bit more than that. I'm not sure what that means just yet.

I'm so grateful for the opportunities that have been given to me lately. I'm so thankful for the people in my life who have supported me and mean so much to me (I hope you know who you are). I feel confident that I'm where I'm supposed to be for the first time in a long time, and that's possibly the greatest gift God could give me.

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.

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):

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.))) 

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.

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.

An Update

Well. It's been awhile. I debated for a long time how much I wanted to reveal to the world wide web and anybody I personally know who might read this (and was actually kinda discouraged from it by my dad at first), but I've decided honesty is the best policy in life; I did not end up participating in the show I had been rehearsing for, The Wedding Plan. Various factors that I have no interest in going into anymore contributed to me being unfairly ousted, along with a couple other cast members mere days before the performances. It was one of the most confusing, infuriating, awful experiences of my life. It was both a blessing and a curse that it happened the day before I went home for my brother, Ben's graduation; a blessing because I was going home and away from the city and industry I felt pretty betrayed by, a curse because I had to explain what had happened what felt like 5 million times to my extended family and people (many of whom I don't actually know) who asked how my play was going. (In retrospect, it's really quite remarkable and flattering that people actually care enough to inquire, and I'm grateful for that.)

Of course, once I was home I didn't want to return. But return I did, to several lined up auditions, all of which, as it goes with life, went fantastically. Still. It was a tough time. I was back in a place I didn't really currently want to be. We were in the midst of rushing around trying to decide whether to renew our lease or move. I was (and am) quickly running out of money, and was having a harder time than expected finding a job. And as much as I knew I needed to move on, I still felt ashamed and angry about what happened. And I didn't write on here or talk too much to people because I didn't want to until I had good news to report.

Then one night I had to run out around midnight and go to the office of our landlord to slip our rent under her door- It was the last day it could be turned in, and, being Addisons, we'd waited 'til then to do so. Then I began to walk back to the subway, but when I got to it I wanted to keep walking. So I did. I spent some time contemplating life by a lit-up fountain. I kept walking past more and more subway stops, my mind moving at the same time as my feet. What I came to realize as I was walking the streets of New York City at 2 in the morning was that I didn't need to wait for good news to come: I had more than enough to be thankful for already. I'm living in the city I've always wanted to, pursuing the dream of my life. I have a family that I never could have deserved. And I have an unshakeable faith. I had good news all around me all the time, and I needed to remember it.

And then good news came. I walked all the way home from 59th St to 104th, came in, got online, and had an email waiting to tell me that I had been cast in the first reading of a new musical.

The reading went nicely. It's a lovely new show called My Illustrious Wasteland, and I love the music. They're hoping to put it up in a workshop next (just like Smash, for any of you who've seen it), with the hope of getting some producers to take it to Off-Broadway after that. Now mind you, it's just an inital reading; no casting is confirmed yet. I felt like a real actor sitting in that room. Working on new material, doing whatever is asked of me with no promises and no guarantees. Haha.

Tonight I went and watched an outdoor free screening of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid in Bryant Park. Watching a movie out under the stars (that I couldn't see, this is NYC after all), with the skyscrapers towering around me... It was a pretty awesome experience (even if that movie is one of the weirdest I've ever seen). Last weekend, I drove out of the city with Amy, Julie, and Julie's boyfriend Luis to a state park. They had designated swimming areas, but, naturally, those would not suffice for the Addisons. We wandered up the road a bit, and swam out into the open water, out to a little island sticking up in the middle of the lake. It was fantastic. I'm incredibly grateful that, even in troubling or difficult times, I'm still able to overwhelmed every now and then by the beauty of life. Sometimes I feel it even in just the smallest things, like having the perfect meal right when you want it or seeing the sun set in a beautiful, unique way.

Something occurred to me recently. While I was in the midst of my despair over what had happened with the show, I, as always, began to drudge through all of the painful or traumatic experiences of my life- and I've had my fair share, no matter how well I've hidden them or grinned through them. And it struck me that maybe I go through genuinely dramatic events because I live my life to the extreme emotionally. And, if so, I don't think that's something I ever want to change about myself.

Or, who knows, maybe I'm just truly the King of the Drama.

Anyway, this post has been long and rambling. In a couple weeks I'll be flying home to spend some time with my brothers, my Mom and Dad, and myself. There's nothing like being away from all opportunity to really give me the drive to come back here and prove myself. Naturally, as soon as I officially made the decision to go away for a bit, my social life began to fill up, but isn't that the way life always goes? And who cares! Who knows when the next time I'll be free to go home and just chill will be?

I'll end with this: I recently was asked: If I had 500 million dollars (or some huge amount like that), and never had to worry about money, what would I do? I would do exactly what I'm doing right now, living in NYC, going after my dream. I have to say, I'm pretty proud of that.

Actor (and general Jay) Insecurities

It's been a fast-paced couple of weeks. Rehearsals for The Wedding Plan are underway, and run-thrus of the show have begun! We'll get to more on that later. But first, an anecdote! The other day, I was leaving my apartment building, running late (as always) for class. As I was going out the front door, these two guys in suits stopped and stared at me, and I knew right away they were going to talk to me. I was proven right as soon as I walked outside.

'Excuse me, do you live here?'

'Yes.'

'Has anyone come to talk to you about the green energy yet?'

'No.'

'No! Oh man!' (Man begins fiddling with a notebook of some kind.)

'Listen, guys, I'm running really late and I can't talk right now.'

'Okay, that's okay. (Jay begins to leave.) Can you tell us your apartment number so that we won't go there?'

'4A'

'Okay, thanks!' (Man immediately begins buzzing apartments to be let in.)

It was only after I had walked hurriedly to the bus that I realized I had just told two men who were clearly not real salesmen my apartment number and made it obvious that I was not currently inside it. And in actuality, no one was. So I spent the bus ride to the west side stressing out, convinced that we were going to be robbed, and it would be ENTIRELY my fault. It didn't help that I was sitting next to the most neurotic girl ever. She was talking on the phone, and, when she wasn't looking nervously around, she kept her chin literally down to her chest, and she would say things like, 'I'm going to hang up soon, I really don't like talking on the bus.' or 'I don't really go out in New York, I get really nervous someone might see me.' or 'I'm going to quite my job because I'm so bored. I literally lay there all night awake because I'm so bored.' She was quite serious about all of these statements. Anyway, we weren't robbed, though Julie's initial text was: 'Nothing is missing EXCEPT AMY.' Thankfully, Amy returned later that night, having not been stolen away by the fake salesmen after all.

Of course that's a normal day compared to the evening I was riding the train and this man came on begging for money; he began in the usual manner, albeit very loudly, asking people to donate out of goodness. Then he progressed to getting in people's faces, telling them to have a heart, and being unbelieving at their unwillingness to share their money. Then he proceeded to telling us we were lucky he didn't have a gun pointed in our faces; he bet we would give up some money then. Luckily, he got off at the next stop. If he hadn't, I would have made a run for it.

But don't let me convince you NYC's all danger and no fun. I've been having a marvelous time lately. I love the cast of my show, and feel like I've made some real friends. The other night I went and saw my friend Steve's band Live Nudes (A pun. Everyone relax.) play at this bar in Brooklyn, and they ROCKED! That guitarist can shred! Everybody should check 'em out on Fbook. It was a fantastic way to spend a Friday night, let me tell you. And even just hanging out in people's apartments; I am probably the most appreciative apartment-hanger-outer there ever was. I love getting to know people. I love getting to realize I've made a new friend.

Of course, making new friends comes with some other stuff attached; at least for me. When I open myself up, I open myself up pretty completely. It's been a realization about myself that's become clear again with this new batch of friendships. I'm not that normal of a person. Opening myself up to friendships scares me a little. I'm allowing myself the possibility of not being in total control. But I think I'm getting better. Just another thing I have to be thankful to The Wedding Plan for.

Oh, The Wedding Plan. I'm so grateful for this opportunity, and I want so much to be perfect in it. That has not been coming so naturally lately. Our first run-through felt really rough to me. So I put in the time this weekend to really get back in the script, front to back. And I went to second run-through, and I put my heart into it, and people laughed, and I enjoyed it, and felt so good.... And then in notes, the director had much less than positive things to say about it. Not about the show in general... about me. I don't really know what a proper analogy is; when an actor feels really good about what they've been doing on stage (or film), and then is told by the person in charge that it's not good... It really throws you for a loop. Suddenly, nothing is certain. Does everybody think I'm bad? Have I been deluding myself that I was doing well? Have I been deluding myself that I can act at all? Does anybody even like me? I think I'm worse about this than most, but who knows? All I know is that being told so unexpectedly that what I was doing wasn't satisfactory was pretty much gut-wrenching. I walked to the subway by myself, and my eyes were slightly less than dry.

But it means I have to work harder. I have to be better. This kind of thing only reassures me that I'm doing what I'm meant to do. Because the entire ride home and the rest of the day, the deep-rooted desire to share my soul, and entertain, and move people just burned and burned inside of me. And perhaps these thoughts that race through my head when things like this happen have been part of what's shaped me into the determined person I am today. Now I'm going to stop talking about this because I'm making myself, and no doubt you, uncomfortable.

Back to rehearsal again tomorrow. I'm nervous and scared. But I will not stop working at it. I will not stop opening myself up. I don't think I could. Anyway. That's what's been going on.

Shooting Movies on the Streets of NYC, No Big Deal

Today I agreed to film a scene for a short film by recommendation (I totally don't audition anymore). We were filming in Riverside Park (a lovely place, btw), and the last shot consisted of me walking up while talking on the phone, and then noticing two men fighting, getting scared, and turning and walking quickly the opposite direction. Obviously, there wasn't actually anyone fighting. I was, ya know, acting. Well I did it like a pro, but one passerby woman with her dog became quite concerned about what I was seeing that she wasn't- I was clearly quite disturbed by the vacant meadow in front of me. Eventually she noticed the guy filming and figured it out... and then shuffled sheepishly away. It was rather hilarious.

My AADA classmates all graduated last week. Gotta say, I feel a bit like a proud uncle or something; that is a talented bunch of people. They're all embarking on the tumultuous journey of being an actor in NYC. Good luck, my friends. Somehow I think you'll all be fabulous. It's funny the way life works, though, isn't it? The irony is not lost on me that pretty close to the same time my parents would have been coming to New York to watch me graduate had I stayed in school, they'll instead be coming to watch me perform in my first NYC production.

I've gotta say, it is still so great just to be working on a show. I have such a good feeling about this one. I love my cast, the director is so smart, and it all just feels like the place I'm supposed to be. That is such a great feeling to have. Meanwhile, I'm still filming the short film with Boy Wonder Ben Konigsberg; there's beginning to be a joke that those of us who signed on for this movie will have work every Saturday for the next two years. I think we'll be finishing it all up this Friday. But who knows? I will keep acting for that kid as along as he will let me.

For some reason, despite my ever-dwindling bank account, I can't seem to make myself start working part-time. Chalk it up to a delightful mix of wanting to avoid stress, wishing I could just be an actor and that's all, and, of course, that old reliable laziness. I think I will probably get on the whole unemployment thing tomorrow (like I haven't told myself that a hundred times before).

Life is good. I'm doing what I love, I'm having more of a life than I've had in like a year (a true miracle for me), and I'm greeting everything with an attitude based on love; life is lovable. There is a beauty to life if you will let yourself see it, even in the hardest of times, even when you've been 'done wrong'. I'm speaking from personal (even recent) experience. Move on. Keep going. Learn from it, and love it. I'll end with this quote, which I've liked for a very long time from Virginia Woolf: "To look life in the face, always, to look life in the face, and to know it for what it is... at last, to love it for what it is. And then to put it away."

Staten Island Adventures

I had an adventure last week. The weekend prior, we hadn't finished filming the short film I've been working on and I was supposed to come in on Easter Sunday to finish it up. Amy and Julie had decided to go to Washington DC for the weekend, and I was going to have to stay behind. They drove Amy's car (which has been the source of unbelieveable amounts of aggravation for her) to DC, and parked it in a garage close to our house when they got back around midnight Sunday night. It was requested that little unemployed me drive the car out to Staten Island where Amy's friend lives and park it. After much cajoling, I was talked into it and I convinced Liz to go with me.

For those of you unaware, Staten Island is technically a part of New York City, but it's about as far away you can get without leaving. It's across the river, on a different landmass. We mapped out our course, spent half an hour finding the garage they had parked in, went sprinting back to the apartment to grab the keys (wouldn't have gotten far without those), and set off. The drive took FOREVER. We were supposed to be back by 2 (Liz had work at five); 2 o'clock rolled around and we were sitting in traffic on a bridge. But jamming to CDs, surviving on a canteen of Dr. Pepper and box of Cheez Its had a wonderful feeling of home to it; we weren't too distressed. Then we reached our destination. We could not find this guy's address anywhere. We saw the numbers before and after, but not his. Eventually we assumed he must be one of a cluster of apartments and we parked the car in the according parking lot. The bus came that we were to take back to Manhattan, and we were not allowed to enter, told that our Metro cards were not sufficient for this oh-so-grand 'express bus'. Liz was beginning to get concerned. The only other bus option was a local that would drop us at the ferry- no way we would make it back in time! So after some kind help from a man waiting for the NEXT express bus (which wouldn't come for half an hour), I was informed that the closest place to buy a ticket was down the Avenue at a laundromat. I went sprinting off, theme music running through my brain. I got the ticket! We made the bus! We got back less than an hour before Liz had to start work, but all in all it was okay!

That night I was informed the car had been parked in the wrong place. The next day the guy told us a note had been put on it saying it would be towed. And the next morning I found myself catching the confounded express bus, all alone, back to Staten Island.

But I succeeded. I moved that car to its proper place (the side of the road, apparently), and without the dramatic confrontation I was imagining with the tow truck man as he loaded it onto his truck at the exact moment I jumped off the bus shouting 'WAIT!! THAT'S MY CAR!!!' (Though perhaps that might have been a better ending to the story.) Still. Success felt sweet, especially since I've been riding on a bit of a wave of success lately and Amy's car being towed would have really broken that up.

Well for the most part it's been a wave of success. The night before my second outing to Staten was not a good one. Without going too much into details, it was brought glaringly back to my attention that I'm not always the nicest person, frequently to the people who mean the most to me. I know why I do it: It's a laziness thing. I spend all my time in public trying as hard as I can to please, so when I come home, or am around people I'm truly comfortable with, I stop trying as hard. But that's no excuse.

Succeeding with Amy's car was a nice bounce back, and a good start to a renewed attempt at being the man God wants me to be. That was the lesson, I suppose: When I'm working to please God, my relationship with others will fall into place.

I've begun to feel grown up for the first time. I paid taxes this year, and if that is not the bane of my existence then I don't know what is. I'm doing well on the acting front, but I'm also facing reality for just about the first time: I'm running out of money. I'm having to come to terms with the fact that I may not be able to support myself right now by doing what I love. That's not been the best feeling.

I'm blessed, though. It's pretty hard for me to forget that these days. As long as I remember that, the stumbling and stress and other stuff will be okay. Hope this finds everyone who reads it blessed too.

Feeling like a real actor

Well. It's been quite awhile since I wrote anything on here. I doubt anyone is still reading, but I'm feeling a need to share (and, I'll admit, brag). So here it goes.

Quite a bit has changed. I returned to NYC from Christmas refreshed and determined. And gone were the days of sitting around in pajamas, watching all the wonders Hulu could offer, pretending to think about doing something productive. If I've learned one thing this past year it's that idleness is the root of discontent; get up, get dressed, and do something. I took classes- on-camera acting, some dance (though I gotta admit I slacked off on that front pathetically quick), and continued voice. Was I spending money out the wazoo? Perhaps. But I was happier than I'd been in months. And somehow that translated into more audition appointments than I'd ever gotten.

Was I landing those auditions? Nope. But I kept chugging.

Still. It ain't easy getting told no (or better yet, getting told nothing) over and over again. It begins to weigh on you, no matter how active you force yourself to be. And after three appointments in a row for which you especially prepared and were excited, and then get told 'That's all we need' before you even finish your material... Well, let's just say the depressed actor texts were beginning to be sent to Mom again.

And then I walked into the Richmond Shepherd theater to audition for The Wedding Play. From the first moment it seemed special. I started to read the sides they'd sent me, and then was cut off halfway through, 'Well crap, he hates me.' racing through my brain. But instead I heard: "I really love what you're doing, but I honestly think you're more right for the lead."

"You know," I said, "I actually thought the same thing." Big laughs from that one.

So I went back out and looked over the sides for the lead. I went back in, read, and walked out feeling better about an audition than I had since my very first. Three callbacks later, I had the part.

Not long after I jetsetted off to Puerto Rico with my family and spent a blissful week on the beach. It is remarkable how refreshing a week out of NYC can be. I returned back in time to do a short film by a young kid named Ben Konigsberg- He's fifteen. He's also amazing. Really. He understands how to make movies, how to talk to actors, and his script was retardedly ambitious- and he lived up to that ambition! Was a bit intimidating for newbie like me; I learned alot this past weekend. And I have no doubt that I worked with someone who WILL be a professional director one day.

And then I went to the first rehearsal of my play, rejoiced over my awesome cast and director. I think it's gonna be really funny. I can't wait to keep working on it. I've really felt like a real actor for the first time this weekend.

Life is good. God is good. I'm humbled, and determined to give it my all. I guess I did learn another thing this past year: Keep on believing.

Recharged

Home is an idea that holds... very strong emotion for me. It's something many people search for their whole lives, or something they feel they don't have. For me it's the place I can go to lose my cares, to restrengthen and recharge; it's where my family is. It's where there's love. I guess I should count it among my blessings that I've always had a home worth returning to.

Anyway. Being home for Christmas and New Years was a much-needed and indescribably rejuvenating blessing. I've been back in the city now for two (three?) weeks, and I'll be you-know-what-ed if I'm not working my butt off (at least much more than I did the last several months). Classes and auditions and errands and whatever else all built up to me eventually deciding to do nothing but sleep and become a vegetable one day. Of course, once that old familiar laziness started setting in, something in my brain told me I had to get off my butt and get back out there. I don't know what has reinvigorated me so, but I'm sure glad it did.

I can definitely say I'm feeling much better now than I was when I left; of course, there's plenty of time left to become redepressed. Productivity breeds contentment, though. I have been living by that creedo since returning to le grande apple.

Still. There's always more I could do. At the end of the day, I still have my mind racing, trying to analyze the steps I should take. Part of this more productive lifestyle comes from a constantly self-critiquing attitude- I'm not cutting myself any slack anymore. If I want this, I'm going to have to fight for it. It's not gonna be handed to me.

Self-critiquing comes easy when you're stepping out into unfamiliar territory. My first On-Camera acting class is a wonderful example: I cannot even articulate the mortification of watching myself up there these first few weeks. Literally all I can see are flaws. But, dadgummit, I am going to get to where I'm satisfied with myself! Enrolling in dance classes is another great scenario: My first class I went to with my friend. She failed to inform me that it was an Intermediate Level class, and they're leaping and bounding across the room like it's nothing. I had never done a dance leap in my life. But I kept going, and have now been much more properly enrolled in a beginner level (which just so you all know does not really mean beginner. We were still leaping by the end of that class. I just wasn't the only one less-than-spectacular at it.)

I sit here tonight, far past when I should have been asleep, just a bit overwhelmed. I am a blessed boy. I look around at my life, the people I know, and I feel love. And that means so much to me. Love is the foundation of a life lived well. It goes back to the home thing; to feel love is to feel a place of home. So to feel love around me is powerful. It's being at home in the world. I don't know if that makes sense. I guess the point is this: Spread the love, y'all.

Pointless post, I suppose. But there you have it. I'll just share this (not sure if I have before or not). But it's one of my favorite songs:

I never know what to 'Title' these posts- My Thoughts on Life at the Moment

Well. The end of my first 'semester' (Am I allowed to say that if I'm not in school anymore?) of being the struggling NYC actor. I'm not entirely sure I would call it a success. It's been a lot of blank-faced 'thank yous', rejections, wastes of time, disappointments, and even the rare complimentary auditioner... who still doesn't even give me a callback. I even had one guy say, literally, 'GREAT job, James! Very good. Go wait in the room, buddy.' So I waited. They never called me back in. That was one of the most frustrating days.

For those who don't know how the entertainment industry works, it's still very much based on unions. There's the Screen Actors Guild, and Equity, the stage actor's union. There is another, smaller union as well. Point being: I am not a member of any of these unions because I have never been cast in a union show or film. I am what is known as a 'Non-Eq'; there's quite a horde of us. We wait from morning til evening at Equity Union calls, our names on a list that may or may not be seen. Any Equity member that walks in gets preference over us, BUT when they happen to have space, they fit us in. Now, the auditioners (people behind the table) are pre-told that we are non-union, so we are automatically a step down in their minds. But hey. We give it our all in those Equity calls anyway. Sometimes you don't get in, though. I seemed to be cursed with not getting in my first month; twice they called the Non-Eq person right in front of me on the list and then ran out of time. Those were tough days too.

I wouldn't say that this 'term' has been without its charms. I have fond memories of cheering on the runners in the NYC Marathon from our fire escape as they schlepped past us on 1st Ave; I think Julie & I were the LAST people cheering that day. And I did make a short student film that was quite an experience within itself. If I understand the script (which I'm still not sure I do), this lazy slob recieves a plant on his doorstep that has magical powers and tries to make him be more active and healthy... until it gets destroyed by a crazed lumberjack. I've gotta say, the two days of filming were two of the most fun days I've had since returning to this city. And there's been other experiences, other times.

Still. I would be lying if I said this has been an easy four months. I really thought I would have gotten an acting job by now, and I haven't. Having dropped out of school, I don't see hardly anyone anymore, and pretty frequently I feel very lonely. Weekends where no one sends or answers a text or asks me to do anything can make a guy feel pretty low.  I constantly question the decision I've made, whether I'm on the right path career-wise, what I'm even doing here. I haven't been being healthy, which doesn't help the situation at all. And being told no over and over again, things not happening, and lack of activity all lead to a struggle to keep faith. We don't like what we don't understand; I don't like the way my life is right now. Sometimes holding on to 'faith' that there is a 'plan' seems foolish.

But faith is what brought me to the decision to leave school. Faith is what brought me to New York City last year. Every step of the way I have told God that I was giving it to Him. So I must believe that there is reason. I've got to keep believing that.

And, as hard as it is sometimes, I have to fight against despondency. I am alive. I am (relatively) healthy. I have a wonderful family, particularly a wonderful sister who has been with me the whole time. And I have passions and dreams that sometimes still overwhelm me. Walking down the street today, not too cold, just cool and crisp, the sun shining, the sound of light traffic and children and people living their lives; Sometimes you have to find happiness in just being alive. I mean after all, that's more than some people can say.

I am alive. I am unique and important. I am not giving up because I am pursuing my oldest dream and greatest passion. And (most days) that is enough.

The Return of the New York Experience!

So since I returned to New York City, I've been wondering how to go about starting to blog again. It seemed like a heck of alot of pressure and build-up after several months of non-blogging; how do I sum up what's happened over the past months, where do I start, does anyone read this, WHAT AM I DOING??? Oh, another day gone by! But then I thought what the heck. I'm just going to start like I never stopped. So here goes.

The other night I attended a fancy-shmancy charity gala for Broadway in South Africa. My friend helped organize the thing, and asked if anybody would be willing to volunteer the night of. With the promise of celebrities and feeling good about helping out, I agreed. I put on my cool clothes, tied my own tie for the very first time (Why didn't I just follow a step-by-step video online years ago?), and wore my glasses for some extra flair.

Broadway in South Africa is group of working Broadway actors who have joined together to go to South Africa and teach arts camps at the schools. They've seen kids leave gangs, come back to school for the first time in years, graduate and go to college. They've seen them begin to write music and plays, perform; the singers and the kids at the gala performed all original songs written by the kids. The program has gone from a small group of actors with an idea to the big charity it was.

It was ritzy, all right. I helped shepherd people into the right doors, make sure their names were on the list, etc. Then as everybody got settled, I snuck up to the balcony and snagged a good seat. The lights went down, and the first girl began to sing, and it was too much for me. It was beautiful. Such a pure, powerful voice, moving everyone in that room to cheers. It reminded me once again why I've chosen this life: Because art, entertainment, music, drama is powerful. It's important, and it moves people. Here's a group of actors literally changing lives with what they do. It was a nice little wake up call. Oh yes. That's why I'm here. That's what I'm working to achieve.

For those of you who don't know, I decided not to return to the American Academy of Dramatic Arts this year. It was one of the hardest decisions of my life, but it was a leap of faith I had to take. That's the key word right there: Faith. That's what I'm living on these days. But I know that there is a reason, and I know that there is a plan. Now begin the days of auditions, open calls, finding work, and being told 'NO THANKS' (or getting no response at all) over and over again. Some days I feel like a true New York actor, rushing from audition to audition, singing my heart out, and handing out resumes and headshots left and right. Other days I wonder what the heck I've gotten myself into. But even on the worst of days, I find ways to remember what I'm working toward, with little reminders like the one I got the other night. And I have confidence in knowing that I'm being taken where I need to go. You don't drink the water if you don't dig the well. So I'm gonna keep on digging. And I know that one day I'm gonna hit a spring. And it will burst forth and shoot into the air like a geyser, powerful and dynamic to all who see it.

(At least I  hope so.)

Hope

Since returning to New York City and my dear American Academy of Dramatic Arts, I have handed out granola bars and bible verses to the homeless, drugged-out inhabitants of Union Square Park (I made quite a few friends!), ran four avenues to the subway at 1 in the morning in the pouring rain after a movie, pretended with my friend Vivian to be a young couple looking for a new bed and thoroughly testing each mattress at the mattress store, and been trapped between a stroller and a wheelchair on the subway as the train was coming to my stop (Who do you awkwardly ask to move?). I've also had quite a success story with the sisters- We have continued to run into this one particular guy from our building, finally me introducing myself, but we've failed to ever learn his number or which apartment he lives in. Therefore we attached a note to our door saying we would like to go bowling soon and would like him to join, and we received a note back saying that sounded delightful and giving us a phone number. The Addisons will prevail in our efforts to turn NYC into a charming Southern town!

I've also reconciled with a friend, worked on an exercise in class where you grab hands with your partner (only after you feel a connection!) and then release back saying either 'yes' or 'no', creating a tug-of-war type activity between two people shouting the same words to each other over and over again. And I had a breakdown in rehearsal as we talked about how we could define loss in our own lives. But most of that is just normal AADA. We've been working on Exam Plays since I've been back, and I've got to say it is refreshing to be working on an actual show again.

I've also just realized that I haven't had ice cream since I've been back in the city, which is quite something in and of itself.

It hasn't been the easiest of times. I've been to the very edge of darkness and back (pardon the cliche), experiencing for the first time in my own life what could only be called spiritual warfare. It's been a fight. But it's getting better. And most of that comes from making a simple choice- to believe and have faith. My entire life really, but particularly for the last two years, I have lived with the belief that I was created for a reason, that I had a divine purpose, and that the life I was living was taken step by step with God. To go through a period of having to question whether any of that was real or not... it's not fun. And when my faith stopped making sense, everything stopped making sense. To wonder whether there was actually a greater meaning...

I began to realize that either I had my faith and I chose to put my trust in it again, or I had nothing. And nothingness seemed like an awful scary thing to face. So I prayed. I went to the word. I told God that if He was real and if He cared, He was going to have to show me.

Did he? Not exactly... at least not in some world-shaking, Hallelujah Chorus way. It was a bit more subtle than that. He caused me to look at his word in a deeper way than I had before. He caused me to reopen my little book of verses I'd just happened to start keeping this year, and he began to reveal himself again:

"My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience."- James 1:2-3

"For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, while we do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal."- 2 Corinthians 4:17-18

"Yet those who wait for the Lord will gain new strength; they will mount up on wings like eagles, they will run and not get tired, they will walk and not become weary."- Isaiah 40:31

"Yet I am always with you; you hold me by my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will take me into glory. Whom have I in Heaven but you? And Earth has nothing I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but GOD is the strength of my heart and my portion forever."- Psalm 73:23-26

"Be strong and of good courage; do not be afraid nor be dismayed for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go."- Joshua 1:9

And it began to get better. I began to have peace again. I realized that it is much better to believe.

Now, I'm realistic (God help us all, Jay's become a realist!). I know that bad days have come during this time too, and there will be more. Some days I still wake up and nothing is right: I'm too ugly, I have no talent, nobody really likes or respects me, I'm all alone, it doesn't make sense, it's not fair, I got cheated, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah! Today itself threatened to be one of those days. But at a certain point I just refused to give myself over to it, and I think that's going to be my new goal for each of those days. Take a deep breath and find the good. If I can't, put on a happy face anyway. This world is not worth facing alone. So I have to believe. If that makes me an foolish, weak in your eyes... honestly, I couldn't care less what you think.

I'm making a new playlist on my ipod, and giving it a new name: Hope.

February 23, 2011

Let's just be real: I lead a bizarre life. If you want to experience the highs and lows of emotion, really send yourself for a trip and a half, enroll in a drama school and devote yourself to the work. Take my word for it; it makes for an intense, volatile, exhausting, and challenging lifestyle. It can be both incredibly fulfilling and awfully upsetting- often in the same day.

Take today for example. Starting bright and early at 9 a.m. I had Vocal Production class, the final presentation of our duets. I felt me and my partner did well. The singing was good, our movement was effective, and the teacher complimented us. But then everybody else started going. And several of them did so well, and were so much more amusing. Already my mind is rushing through all the yucky, gloomy thoughts I take myself through: I'm not as entertaining as these other people, nobody here thinks I'm very good, I never get as good of songs as the others... all that crappy jazz. Then it came time to record the accompianment for our 16 bar audition pieces, and when we got to the one I was assigned it sounded nice and pretty. Exactly the kind of thing I didn't want to do anymore. It didn't help that I was ill-prepared. I had forgotten all about the audition pieces, so I hadn't listened to mine or taken the time to think of an alternative. By the time that class was over, I wanted nothing more than to get out of that school.

Thankfully, in yet another example of divine planning, I had a three hour break. And I walked to the subway with my friend Lauren who knew all the right things to say to make me put my attitude back in perspective. And I went home and had lunch and finished up my paper for Movement class and chilled. And I returned to school with fresh determination. Story of my life. And you know what? From that point on I had a pretty flippin' fantastic day. My classes went great (despite the fact that I left my laptop at home with the video for my Movement report on it!); I got placed front and center for my group number, really quite an accomplishment for someone who'd never taken a step of dance before, and one that I am particularly proud of. And then Greek scenework came, and my partner and I worked deeper and stronger than I think I have my entire time at school so far; we did a lot of really great work. I personally took huge steps toward releasing the emotion held in my jaw, physicalizing what I was saying, and fully inhabiting my body, three things I've needed to work on my entire life. And it was upsetting, and emotionally draining, and difficult- but it felt so satisfying afterward.

After classes, I stayed to watch the AADA Company Showcase- Company is the 'third year students' who do nothing but productions all year, and then present a final showcase. It was fine. The Company members who are always good, did very good in their individual showcase scenes, their technique and performances wonderful and their speech truly great. Others not as much. Leaving the school afterward, I stopped to talk to Jackie, my Acting teacher. I expressed these same thoughts on the Showcase to her, and she agreed. Those who are always good, continued to be good. They worked, they devoted, and they were believable and resonant in their work. We wonder why she pushes us to work, challenges us to do more- that's why. Because some people can be always good, if they will do the work. I was with another friend talking to her, but the whole time she said this, she looked right at me. And then she put up her hand to give me a small high five. And as silly as that little exchange may sound, it meant the world to me. She believes in me. She believes I can be one of those people.

I have been blessed with enough experience and natural ability that I can wing the work we do in classes and still do well. And I'm man enough to admit that, for the most part, that's what I've mostly been doing. I do give it my all as much as I can every day in class, but outside of class my devotion to what I do is lacking. It's an interesting term, devotion; I've been coming to realize more and more what an appropriate word it is for the hard-working actor. The performers who are always good, who are captivating and transcendent, they give themselves over completely to the work. For many actors, what they do is their whole lives. We talked about similar things in Styles today. Acting is a fascinating craft because you are in control of the emotions you pick to work on, but then you pick the strongest ones and you let them control you. You give yourself over to it.

It scares me a little bit sometimes. But I'm ready to move more towards real dedication to my craft, starting by implementing a requirement of at least one significant daily activity outside of school to help develop my work. 

And yet there is one more equally important, essential part of being a solid performer: Living. If we do not live, we do not experience. We do not go through things that move us, give us emotion, and feed our person. If we do not live, we cannot express. Life is moving, fun, complicated, challenging, beautiful. I fully believe that too. It can be just as beneficial as intense moment-to-moment scenework to spend a perfect night out with a good friend, eating and laughing and acting a fool, to experience the real emotions of life, and then to walk home as a light snow begins to fall. Thankfully, there's no short supply of such magic nights in New York City.

Strength Like a Fire

This semester we have a class called Mask that I find completely fascinating. However, almost every single week when I'm in there I catch myself thinking, "If someone from home walked in right now..." I won't deny it's one of the stranger courses AADA has to offer, and that's saying something. The basic idea is this: You cover your face with a neutral mask and therefore have to express all of your emotion through your body. Every week we have a new scenario of some kind that we go through as a group, then individually go through it while wearing the mask. An example scenario:

You're in a beautiful, lush, pillared courtyard. There's flowers and trees and a little pond. The ceiling is glass and the walls are open. Beyond the courtyard is a dense forest. Beyond the forest are mountains. Beyond the mountains, out of sight, is the ocean. Suddenly, a bird flies into the courtyard. It flies back and forth, from one end to the other, then right in front of you it stops and falls to the ground, dead. You kneel down to pick it up in your hands. But as you're holding it, it comes back to life and flies away!

Last week we did something a little different- We embodied each of the four elements, air, fire, water, and earth. We did it first as a group with our eyes closed. But then, of course, she made us get up an embody one of the elements as a mask solo. Worse, she informed us that this time, everybody else in the room was there. We could see them, and they could see us. I was pretty much petrified. In the group work, I had found the exercise fascinating and incredibly freeing. But to do it in front of everyone... and I knew which element I had to do, the one I most easily connected with, the most deep-rooted and personal one: Fire.

It's not surprising that Fire would speak to me. Deep inside of me, in my core there is a fire always burning. It's the most personal, most primal part of me, a part that does often get pushed aside or dampened (pardon the pun) because I'm shy or uncomfortable. However, it's the part of me that never allows myself to give up; this unextinguishable strength. And that's what great acting is all about, at least in part; sharing with people the deepest, most personal part of ourselves in performance. Because when you do that as an actor, people feel it. It's a tangible thing. And they can't take their eyes off of the work because it is so truthful. That's what I want to do. But it's still a little scary sometimes.

Life is not a cakewalk. This semester has seen both highs and lows of my New York Experience- I've been learning more than I ever expected to at school, but I've also had days where I really felt like there was really no one in this school who cared about me at all. Sometimes I spend entire days feeling progressively worse and worse convincing myself that no one likes me and there's nothing I can do about it.

I learned the falseness of that some time ago, though. There was a moment when I was traveling through Central America with my family that I realized something incredible: God created me. He CREATED ME. And he don't make no accidents. What's more, I have a literal worry-free guarantee: God's promised to take care of me, and he hasn't let me down yet. He will take me where I need to go. I may have no idea how important everything I'm going through will be to me in the future- but I know there's reason behind it all. And that's encouraging; heck, that's empowering! And it makes me feel all warm and toasty inside (which is an especially nice bonus considering how cold it is!).

Now don't get confused here: We can't just hand everything over to Big G.O.D. and expect him to take care of it with no effort from us. He will take care of everything, but we have to do our part. It's a relationship, folks. That implies two sides, and there has to be two sides for your life to become the wonderful thing it can be. This is something I've had to confront myself with recently. I think being so blessed had lulled me into a bit of  complacency. That no work. But I'm working on fixing it.

I know that He's given me a dream. I know that this is where He wants me to be right now. I don't know where this career will lead me, I don't even know the next step, but I know this is where I'm supposed to be. So I gave it my all. I came out from behind that partition and let the Fire consume me. It was pretty intense for me, and I guess it came across. For almost all the others, there had been that awkward laughter of people feeling foolish- nobody laughed this time. It took me the rest of the class to shake it off, part of which included me having to put my head down and cry. The teacher had that now-familiar phrase as advice: Almost. One step more and it would have been very powerful.

I think I've heard that enough. It's all too easy to think who am I to be something incredible, but really... who am I not to be? I think it's time to take that last step. It's time to let the strength in me take over, consume me, flow from me.

Like a Fire.

WE SET THE SCHOOL ON FIRE!!

I would like to start off by saying this to all of you Texas folk: Suck it up! It's cold every single day here, and lately it hasn't even been snowing. Just ice. And rain. Yuck. You guys are at least having snow days! My school never cancels for anything! And as proof I offer this story:

On Monday, I left for  my three hour break and went to pick up some things in midtown with Julie. As I was heading back to school, I kept noticing fire truck after fire truck rushing by and I thought to myself, "Oh gee. I wonder what's on fire? I hope it's not close to my school." No, it wasn't close to my school. It WAS MY SCHOOL! By the time I arrived everyone had been evacuated and throngs of young actors and actresses crowded the sidewalks. There were lots of apologies by students for being so hot that they started a fire. I caught a glimpse of my Acting Teacher, Jacqueline Solotar, crying as she watched the firemen break out the windows.

Turns out the fire was only in the basement, so the school was actually fine. So, naturally, as the firemen started clearing out they herded us all back in for class. A mere hour after we'd been evacuated. For a fire. Hey, the show must go on, right?

Once we were back in the building, the melodrama began to overflow from all of my peers. At least half of them were suffocating from the lack of air and having Oscar-worthy near-death scenes. Meanwhile, Acting Teacher Jackie's yelling at me and my partner to get set up for our scene and telling everyone what big babies they are for wanting to go home. So set up we did. And, of course, as soon as we did, the fire marshall got hold of the fact that the students had been let back into a building that had been on fire less than an hour ago, and we were all evacuated once more, this time for the rest of the day.

So you can't really blame AADA for the show not going on. If it had been up to them, we would have been in school, thank you very much. Just the fire marshall. He clearly never went to acting school.

I am blessed, and it is cold. These two things I know to be true. The rest I'll take one day at a time.

A Work in Progress

What can I tell you? School is amazing as of late. Literally every day, every class there is something to be learned, some way to benefit. It has changed from last semester. There's a lot more to do in every class (an overwhelming amount of work sometimes), from improvs to sketch comedy to choreography assignments to transcription exercises, but more than that it has to do with a simple truth: If you devote yourself to something, you will benefit. It took me awhile to realize that last semester, but this semester I returned to school knowing without a doubt that I was there for one purpose: to learn. And learn I have. It's incredible how much the past three weeks of school has benefited me. The other side of that, however, is that I'm 'bout spent at the end of each day. Believe it or not, it takes a lot out of you to give yourself over to performance, even just class exercises. It's all worth it, though; I can feel myself improving and it's an amazing feeling.

I would be remiss if I didn't admit that being so focused took some of my focus away from that other part of my life I work so hard at: my optimistic, happy-go-lucky, and kindness to others mantra. The past three weeks have been a wake up call to me in that aspect. Rather than noticing a good attitude about me, people began to notice a somewhat judgemental attitude, and an occasionally less-than-joyous mood. It's the state I most naturally fall back into, but it's the state that I refuse to be snared by. It hurts me when I hear those things from people- I want people to notice a light about me, a peace that can be explained by nothing besides God. JJ Moore used to tell a story about a young boy sitting in Sunday School listening to the teacher talk about God being inside of you. He raised his hand: "Teacher, isn't God huge? If he's inside of us, won't he poke out all over?"

I sure hope so. I pray that he would fill me up and poke out all over.

I'm working on it, forever. Haha. I can't be perfectly good every day, and every day can't be perfectly good. But I can have peace every day. And every day I can try to reflect that peace as best as I can. Living with family again has made it glaringly obvious how much they put up with from me, attitude-wise. Attempting to be perky each day in public has turned me into someone with the bad habit of letting my family always see my worst side. They don't deserve that. They deserve better than the public gets. Recognizing my laziness attitude-wise with Amy and Julie has been a tough thing to come to terms with. But I am. And I'm working on it. Because not only does my family deserve it, so does the One who made me.

Laziness. That word has a lot of resonance with me lately. In Acting last week, I had to do another phone call exercise (I think I explained those earlier? Important phone call, important task in room, somewhere to go urgently.), and I blew it off until the morning before class. When I got to class I had an idea to go with: Mom had called and left a message on my phone that my dog had run away, and I was calling back and finding out they'd been found. But then out of nowhere came something else. Something similar to what I'd planned, but much stronger. My dogs hadn't gone missing. Sam had. My little brother. For over 10 hours. I was calling back and finding out he'd been found with a broken leg. Suddenly it was my turn to go. And I went. And it was pretty fantastic. The emotions were there, the technique was there, the honesty, the connection. It pretty well shocked my classmates. After I finished, the teacher followed me out into the hallway and took my face in her hands and said words I'll never forget: "James. Almost. Had you gone one more step, taken one more breath, it would have been amazing. Very good work." She went on to guess that I hadn't practiced. "You have got to get out of your own way. Your laziness is holding you back from expressing something truly amazing to us. I beg you. Don't be lazy. Get out of your own way."

And she's right, of course. This sentiment has been shared by almost every teacher: There's something very special inside of me. But I need to go one step further. Then there'd be something phenomenal. It's an encouraging thought, but it's also scary. What will that be if I go one step further? Where will it take me? It gives me chills thinking about it. But I've got to do it. It's what I was made for. I believe that.

We managed to maneuver a full-size couch and a ridiculously oversized TV into our 4th floor apartment with much difficulty and even more hilarity. Twice we employed the help of kind fellow tenants, once with nearly disastrous effects. But it's in now, baby! WE CONQUERED! And the mysterious long line of cops sitting outside our building has returned, making life truly complete once again.

Life is good. God is good. Always. It's not perfect. But it's a work in progress.

The Tumultuous Week of the (Christian) Actor

The actor's life is a tumultuous one. In the week following Thanksgiving, I have gone from feeling blah about being back, to making a valiant effort to be in a great mood, to extreme disappointment with the school, to being more inspired about my career than I have ever been and once again comprehending the sheer flippin' awesome-ness of God.

I think it's probably going to always be tough to go see family and then return to NYC. Small town life (and Addison family life) and NYC life are so completely different, and while I've gotten to where I can truly say I Love New York, I will probably always be a small town boy at heart. Getting back Sunday night to an empty room and a crowded city made me feel a tad disillusioned, but I bucked up and made a decision to greet the next day full of friendliness and good cheer. And I did, and so did everyone else, and it was indeed delightful to see all my Section 7 buddies again. Then, unfortunately, Monday was followed by Tuesday (make sure and say that with a u-glide!), the suckiest of days, and the day on which I have to go to school from 11 in the morning to 8:30 at night. Also the day of Vocal Production class, the singing class which did nothing but infuriate and annoy me because I didn't even get to sing and I've had this dumb, unchallenging song from Beauty and the Beast waaaaay too long. I'm not learning anything in the class. So by the time I got to Alexander Technique, I was conversing annoyingly with my fellow Section mates how this school truly wasn't worth the tuition, I wasn't learning anything, I wished I could quit, wah wah wah! Naturally, that was the day that I had to stand up and do a monologue in Alexander, and my blah attitude showed through clear as day. Strangely enough, though, when that teacher started working on me, physically and mentally, and made me keep doing it 'til I got it right, I ended up delivering a small, comedic performance that everyone agreed was way more effective than my 'memorized monologue'.

I called my acting mentor, Robin Haynie, to let it all out- my disappointment with school, my strong will to be out working, my disagreements with the techniques we were learning- and do you know what she said? Putting all validness of the school aside (she's always wished I was in a University program somewhere), in either scenario the point of drama programs is to be in a place where you can PRACTICE, PRACTICE, PRACTICE, PRACTICE in a safe environment where someone just might be able to give you some good advice on how to improve. That's a simple truth. It's one that I've realized before, but needed reminding of. And really, it's pretty much exactly what AADA is there for: a place for me to practice my butt off, taking risks, and learning new methods that may or may not be what I choose to use; a safe place to go to deeper places than I ever have. As always, Ms. Haynie delivered the perfect advice. What's more, I think just letting it out and speaking my issues aloud was precisely what I needed to make me realize how meaningless they were. Besides what Robin said being totally true, I have even more incentive to be content: Faith. I have faith that God has put me and will continue to put me exactly where I need to be. Furthermore, I have been blessed- ooooh, have I been blessed! What right have I to complain?

Yesterday we had a Q&A with Judith Light, and it was probably the most inspiring, practical, real thing I've ever been to about my career. Everyone who went left visibly moved- I don't really know how to explain it. Judith was just so open and honest about how she works, and the things that inspire her. She's not a superstar like Kevin Kline, she's just a working, tremendously talented actress who has it figured out probably better than most anyone else. For those of you who can't put a face to the name, Judith Light starred for years on Who's the Boss- I've never seen that show, but from what I hear it's not exactly the epitome of monumental acting; what she's respected for is her decades worth of stage work in plays like Wit, A Doll's House, Hedda Gabler, and currently Lombardi. I know her from Ugly Betty (LOVE) on which she played Claire Meade. Perhaps the best way to share her brilliance is to tell you the main things she said that really struck me, though it will be nowhere near as eloquent as her:

• Acting is a Service Industry; we perform to serve people because they need something- to be entertained, moved, have catharsis, whatever. If they didn't need something, they wouldn't be paying to watch us. So it's important to remember as an actor that it's not about you. It's about what you can give. She talked about when she did Wit (for those of you who didn't see it when I did it, it's a riveting play about a woman with ovarian cancer coming to terms with the false views she's had about life. It's probably one of the most taxing roles a woman could play.). Each night she'd be sitting backstage at half hour to curtain saying, "You know I really don't feel like doing this tonight." And her husband would say, "Well, you've got a half hour to start feeling like it." And this would go on until 5 minutes to show, and then she would say a little prayer: Help me to be what these people need to see. And then she'd be ready to go. Every night.
• To be successful, you have to get to a point of really knowing yourself and your instrument well enough that you can have confidence that you are enough and will deliver the performance needed. It's tough, it takes years of practice, but you can get there. Decide that you deserve it. Decide to greet your work with open mind and open heart.
• There are greater forces at work in this universe, and if you trust them they will guide you to where you need to go. (I think Judith may be a secret Christian.)

I honestly don't think I will ever forget it. And then in class, my partner Ariana and I did the best read-thru of any of the new scenes yet. In rehearsal, we'd had a lot of trouble taking it seriously, so finally I said: If it's not serious, it's not serious. If we need to laugh, laugh. So we did, and we let it all out. And then we were ready. We went for it, and if I do say so myself, we hit it out of the ballpark.

I'm here for a reason. If I open my mind and heart, I can see it all around me. In huge, semi-life-changing things like Judith Light's Q&A to small things like discovering that Forever 21 prints John 3:16 on the bottom of all of their bags. Little affirmations. God has given me a dream, and I am here to fulfill that dream and that purpose. If I let go, he will guide me. I know that to be true. And that gives me more reason to fully devote myself, work my hardest, and believe in what I'm doing than anything else ever can.

Irony at AADA

Life is full of irony, isn't it? Today I felt truly legit. We had a guest speaker come to our school named Kevin Kline. Yes. That Kevin Kline. Academy Award winner Kevin Kline. Came and had a little chat about the performer's life and mingled with us like we were old chums. It was undeniably cool, and he was utterly charming.

The night before was spent working until after 1 in the morning on coloring sheets for Movement Class. Yes. I'm serious. Coloring sheets.

So, essentially, within 24 hours I'd felt both completely grown up and like I was in kindergarten both as a result of AADA. Irony. One of life's most delightful little pleasures. (And ever so useful as an actor!)

I sang my song all the way through for my Section in Vocal Production yesterday and they now all are convinced that if I were to audition for a musical on Broadway tomorrow I would be cast. It's those little moments that make it all worth it. Section work continues to go well, and our group's choreography for All That Jazz is kicking everyone else's butt. The Good Week continues...