I have forgotten how much I really enjoy sitting down at the piano and fumbling my way through songs. It's one of those autopilot things where you can just turn off your brain to everything other than the little notes on the paper. Maybe because it takes all my concentration to have my brain tell my fingers where to go. My kindergarten teacher always said that I didn't have very good hand-eye coordination. wait...maybe she said I just had a short attention span... oh I don't remember. Either way, I checked out some music from the library and have been using the holes in my schedule to plunk out some new tunes. I always feel clearer afterwards. The dream would be to one day have a music room in a home of my own. Maybe (hell let's dream real big) a baby grand and the room would have lots of windows.
I also have forgotten how hard/fun ballet is. Yesterday I taught some basic ballet to a few girls in my class. For a little over an hour we leaped and plieed around to music that I prepared and had a bit of a giggle. I've missed feeling graceful and structured like this. Ballet, for the most part, was something that just made sense to me. It helps with core strength and posture, breath, and building muscle without bulking up. It just changes how you carry yourself. But holybuhjeebus. I'ma achin' today.
This last Saturday we had our End of Term Brinner. I'm so glad we started it. There is nothing more comforting than breakfast food. It solves sadness, stress, hangovers, future hangovers, and homesickness. It always has such a familial feel to it and that combined with the release from term and the warmth of Angie's place, it was a good end to the week.
I spent Sunday doing mostly nothing other than catching up on my life (i.e. laundry, vacuum, family skyping). And then Monday was the beginning of Useless Week. As in, -why do we bother having it let's just go on vacation now- week. First some of us had a meeting at Glasgow University to meet with some student playwrights and directors for a project that we are supposed to do with them in July. We trekked over in crap weather only to find that they were fairly disorganized and that the project (in which we believed would last a full week) would only comprise of one four hour rehearsal and then a short dress rehearsal before a staged reading of it. ...right...and what exactly am i supposed to do with the other 32 hours of my week? Listen. I don't regret coming here. At all. It is the best decision I have ever made. But that being said, this programme has some serious holes in it. You cannot have a year long programme and then give this much time off. It is supposed to be jam packed almost everyday. It needs to be. Because when I'm back into the swing of things, I don't ever want to have to say to a casting director or producer that I can't do something. Especially when I've got the time and resources to do it. I've paid for these resources. So these administrators had best be stepping up. It often feels like they are scrambling to throw speakers in to fill empty time.
Case in point, today. Very lovely girl. She graduated from the course the first year it was in effect. She's from the UK and has done some nice work here and there on theatre and some tv (Downton Abbey) but since over half of the students in our class are Americans that will be deported after graduation, all the advice she had to give concerning working in the UK was not useful to us. Also, it seems to me she was one of the lucky ones. She has an amazing agent and her survival job is being a musician. I'm happy for her, it's great to see someone doing well. But not everyone can play in a band and live off it. In fact, the majority of actors will struggle for much longer than two or three years before they even get an agent of that calibur to come see something they're in, let alone sign with them. And though it's nice to meet new people, you cannot plot out your life or career based on someone else. Just because someone else found their way through this/that/and the other, doesn't mean that it will work out that way for you. The best thing you can do? Show up, be prepared, and present yourself as how you want to be seen. You can't control anything that other people do or say or feel. But you can do right by yourself, you can have your box of acting tools ready for when those lucky opportunities come. If you show up, eventually one (at least one) will. And as long as I believe that and as long as I can live with myself, I'll keep showing up.
One good thing to come from today is that I had my tutorial with the head of my programme finally. I dreaded it. I did not think there was any way it was going to go well. And I did not want to relive any of the Malfi stuff. But I said what I had to say and he listened. And what's more, he reassured me in many ways. And he also said that it speaks highly of my cohort members and myself that with all that we were dealing with, that we kept ourselves together, put on a great show, and didn't come crying at his door. He respected us for trying to push through, keep professional and handle it ourselves. I'm glad I said something. Because for some reason, it makes it feel less like we were abused children and more like equals. Because we are. And I feel like I don't have that beast of an angerball in my chest anymore. There are still many things that get me going about the hodge podge that is this programme but those are just ash and soot in comparison.
Besides, in one week...I'll be flying to Malta. Good things, people. Good things.
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Saturday, June 9, 2012
I'd Still Rather Be Me.
Oops. I blinked and it's been over a week since I've last bothered to write. And now it's the second week of June. And the end of term 3 of my Masters. I don't understand how that happened. How can you feel like you've been in a place for forever but at the same time feeling like you've just arrived? One minute I'm screaming "Slow Down, Time!" and the next I'm counting the seconds until a day is over. I can't seem to find a balance.
Last Sunday I ran my first 5k run. This one was for cancer research and I never thought I'd ever enter anything like it, especially with the goal of actually RUNNING the sucker. And I managed to run around 4.5 of it and jogged or sped walked the rest. And I also managed to cut almost another two minutes off my time. It felt really good, despite the epically cold morning. I've always had a phobia of running and told myself that it was something that I just would never do. Growing up with P.E. teachers who gave up on me and the looks of pity from other more fit classmates, I just wrote it off as one of those things that just wasn't going to happen for me. And it just feels good to finish something.
This last week had been final rehearsals for On the Verge (our last performance was tonight). It's been a blur. Last minute changes threw me off a bit but it ended up turning the half impro/half scripted piece into a pretty good success. It was clear that many of our cohort had begun to reach their limit of exhaustion. We have been going non stop since the beginning of April and you could see the determined faces of some as they begged their minds and bodies to hold on just until this Friday.
I have been no exception. Emotionally I am still bouncing all over the place. Today being the roughest of days. I no longer ask myself for specifics. I just identify whether it's a good or bad day and then ride the wave the best I can. Compartmentalize the issues so that you can do your job and if at all possible, use whatever weakness you have for the part you are playing. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. If you can't get rid of it, use it. If you need a cry and a scream, work it in, or wait till after the show. And always remind yourself that emotions are part of the job. You will only suck at the job if you stifle the feelings. Also, that everything turns out ok in the end. If it isn't ok, it isn't the end.
But I'm exhausted. And I am counting down the days till Malta (10 days). Thank God it's already paid for.
I think it also doesn't help that I check my bank account...insert death march here. oof. Money is the rain on all parades. It is the poo that you step in when wearing your best shoes. It is the theatre critic who falls asleep at your debut. Money is the evil, the anxiety that puts a damper on all parties. But it is a fact. It is very real. And it is necessary. But ew. Just ew.
Anyway, back to On the Verge.
I am beyond proud of the work we put on. I saw almost all of the pieces my fellow mates (apologies to NB for missing your piece) put on and it was entertaining, quality, and exemplary. I saw many people in a new light as they stretched themselves in genres and projects that no one ever gave them a chance to perform in before.
One piece called "The Hollow" was a devised piece based off of a T.S. Eliot poem. A work in progress, it was designed in such a way that had layers of meaning through simplistic gestures. Visually beautiful and a nice stretch for the actors involved.
Another piece called "You Cannot Call it Love" was a mix of Hamlet and Barker. It was immersive as the four actors weaved themselves in and out of the audience who were sat on single chairs spread out along the stage. Beautiful staging and solid performances by AL, JS, MAR, and MM. MM had just the right amount of steel and cray cray. MAR had grotesque-ism down to an art. AL's Ophelia was like none I'd seen before and she had a manic vibe and desperation that totally worked. And JS, whom has never disappointed me in a performance, was completely "en pointe", charming, entertaining, and convincing.
"Love Songs" was a huge leap for KT, I thought. A piece that was 30 minutes of movement based story telling through a playlist. It was like a live music video. It wasn't dance. It was a relationship through body language.
"Taboo" was an improv show that pushed the boundaries of social acceptance. I admire these guys because it takes balls to do improv as well as use taboo subjects for your base. I am especially proud of AK and SM who I know were very new to this type of work and were exceptionally funny and quick.
And finally "Mr and Mrs Laughton". It was the last show I saw in the festival and it was by far the one that stuck in my mind. I am So very proud of MAR. He wrote/put it together and acted in it and I knew that it was a project that was very close to his heart. There were times that he was tempted to abandon the project but I can't tell you how glad I am that he stuck with it. It was funny, heart breaking, clever, and I wished it was full length. He was at his very best. If there was ever a role to showcase what MAR can do, I thought it was this one. He is unpredictable and forceful and fragile. And it was worth the price of admission and more. Good. On. You, sir.
As for ours, "A Million Hearts in Stereo" went very very well. The first night being the absolute best and ideal. Forty five people came and we put on a crap wedding party interspersed with monologues and impro. The atmosphere was electric and everything just clicked. It was a total high in that it really felt like a real wedding reception. The people were receptive, they played along, and it was full enough not to make anyone feel too singled out or uncomfortable. It also made our job so much easier in that we did not have to feel the pressure of filling the space on our own. (The bar and alcohol supply didn't hurt either). For the most part, we received hugely positive reviews and I felt it was a great success.
Then there was tonight's performance....
yeah...
well...
what can ya do?
Since my research paper is based on building atmosphere, I'd say this second night was a huge lesson in what works and what doesn't. Our audience size was about ten. Ten people in a room that could hold easily over 100. AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA! It's ok to giggle. It was almost comical when it wasn't painful. But there you go. Some atmospheres are based on the number of people but some are based on the moods of those people as well. And both were not in our favor that evening. It felt, a lot of the time, that we were fighting against the private atmospheres that the "audience" brought in. The show still went fine. But it was a completely different show. Because half of the piece is improvised, we had to work twice as hard and talk twice as long to the same people. We had to acknowledge that the empty space was there and then just go with it. It was fine. And had we not had such an awesome opening, we probably wouldn't have felt how brutal it was. But there it is. We were still entertaining. But it's a bummer that we had to end on that note.
So that's pretty much the end of term 3. Sure there's one week left of meetings, tutorials, seminars, a mock audition, and a two day film/tv workshop, but truthfully...I'm pretty much checked out. And I'm pretty much freaked out that time -that saucy minx- is running out. There are still places I want to see. there are still some people I wish I knew better. Some I wish They knew ME better. ...some I wish I saw less of. And then a select few that are closest, where I feel like I will lose a limb when I don't get to see them everyday. Real life is coming, people. And I'm not thrilled at the thought. But for now, it's baby steps. Sleep. Eat. Theatre.
Honestly, I know it sounds like I'm having a hard time. And ok, I am. But I gotta tell ya, I'd still rather be me than anyone else. I'd still rather do theatre and film and never have a "normal" day. I'd still rather own a little, but experience a lot. I'd still rather be me.
Last Sunday I ran my first 5k run. This one was for cancer research and I never thought I'd ever enter anything like it, especially with the goal of actually RUNNING the sucker. And I managed to run around 4.5 of it and jogged or sped walked the rest. And I also managed to cut almost another two minutes off my time. It felt really good, despite the epically cold morning. I've always had a phobia of running and told myself that it was something that I just would never do. Growing up with P.E. teachers who gave up on me and the looks of pity from other more fit classmates, I just wrote it off as one of those things that just wasn't going to happen for me. And it just feels good to finish something.
This last week had been final rehearsals for On the Verge (our last performance was tonight). It's been a blur. Last minute changes threw me off a bit but it ended up turning the half impro/half scripted piece into a pretty good success. It was clear that many of our cohort had begun to reach their limit of exhaustion. We have been going non stop since the beginning of April and you could see the determined faces of some as they begged their minds and bodies to hold on just until this Friday.
I have been no exception. Emotionally I am still bouncing all over the place. Today being the roughest of days. I no longer ask myself for specifics. I just identify whether it's a good or bad day and then ride the wave the best I can. Compartmentalize the issues so that you can do your job and if at all possible, use whatever weakness you have for the part you are playing. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. If you can't get rid of it, use it. If you need a cry and a scream, work it in, or wait till after the show. And always remind yourself that emotions are part of the job. You will only suck at the job if you stifle the feelings. Also, that everything turns out ok in the end. If it isn't ok, it isn't the end.
But I'm exhausted. And I am counting down the days till Malta (10 days). Thank God it's already paid for.
I think it also doesn't help that I check my bank account...insert death march here. oof. Money is the rain on all parades. It is the poo that you step in when wearing your best shoes. It is the theatre critic who falls asleep at your debut. Money is the evil, the anxiety that puts a damper on all parties. But it is a fact. It is very real. And it is necessary. But ew. Just ew.
Anyway, back to On the Verge.
I am beyond proud of the work we put on. I saw almost all of the pieces my fellow mates (apologies to NB for missing your piece) put on and it was entertaining, quality, and exemplary. I saw many people in a new light as they stretched themselves in genres and projects that no one ever gave them a chance to perform in before.
One piece called "The Hollow" was a devised piece based off of a T.S. Eliot poem. A work in progress, it was designed in such a way that had layers of meaning through simplistic gestures. Visually beautiful and a nice stretch for the actors involved.
Another piece called "You Cannot Call it Love" was a mix of Hamlet and Barker. It was immersive as the four actors weaved themselves in and out of the audience who were sat on single chairs spread out along the stage. Beautiful staging and solid performances by AL, JS, MAR, and MM. MM had just the right amount of steel and cray cray. MAR had grotesque-ism down to an art. AL's Ophelia was like none I'd seen before and she had a manic vibe and desperation that totally worked. And JS, whom has never disappointed me in a performance, was completely "en pointe", charming, entertaining, and convincing.
"Love Songs" was a huge leap for KT, I thought. A piece that was 30 minutes of movement based story telling through a playlist. It was like a live music video. It wasn't dance. It was a relationship through body language.
"Taboo" was an improv show that pushed the boundaries of social acceptance. I admire these guys because it takes balls to do improv as well as use taboo subjects for your base. I am especially proud of AK and SM who I know were very new to this type of work and were exceptionally funny and quick.
And finally "Mr and Mrs Laughton". It was the last show I saw in the festival and it was by far the one that stuck in my mind. I am So very proud of MAR. He wrote/put it together and acted in it and I knew that it was a project that was very close to his heart. There were times that he was tempted to abandon the project but I can't tell you how glad I am that he stuck with it. It was funny, heart breaking, clever, and I wished it was full length. He was at his very best. If there was ever a role to showcase what MAR can do, I thought it was this one. He is unpredictable and forceful and fragile. And it was worth the price of admission and more. Good. On. You, sir.
As for ours, "A Million Hearts in Stereo" went very very well. The first night being the absolute best and ideal. Forty five people came and we put on a crap wedding party interspersed with monologues and impro. The atmosphere was electric and everything just clicked. It was a total high in that it really felt like a real wedding reception. The people were receptive, they played along, and it was full enough not to make anyone feel too singled out or uncomfortable. It also made our job so much easier in that we did not have to feel the pressure of filling the space on our own. (The bar and alcohol supply didn't hurt either). For the most part, we received hugely positive reviews and I felt it was a great success.
Then there was tonight's performance....
yeah...
well...
what can ya do?
Since my research paper is based on building atmosphere, I'd say this second night was a huge lesson in what works and what doesn't. Our audience size was about ten. Ten people in a room that could hold easily over 100. AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA! It's ok to giggle. It was almost comical when it wasn't painful. But there you go. Some atmospheres are based on the number of people but some are based on the moods of those people as well. And both were not in our favor that evening. It felt, a lot of the time, that we were fighting against the private atmospheres that the "audience" brought in. The show still went fine. But it was a completely different show. Because half of the piece is improvised, we had to work twice as hard and talk twice as long to the same people. We had to acknowledge that the empty space was there and then just go with it. It was fine. And had we not had such an awesome opening, we probably wouldn't have felt how brutal it was. But there it is. We were still entertaining. But it's a bummer that we had to end on that note.
So that's pretty much the end of term 3. Sure there's one week left of meetings, tutorials, seminars, a mock audition, and a two day film/tv workshop, but truthfully...I'm pretty much checked out. And I'm pretty much freaked out that time -that saucy minx- is running out. There are still places I want to see. there are still some people I wish I knew better. Some I wish They knew ME better. ...some I wish I saw less of. And then a select few that are closest, where I feel like I will lose a limb when I don't get to see them everyday. Real life is coming, people. And I'm not thrilled at the thought. But for now, it's baby steps. Sleep. Eat. Theatre.
Honestly, I know it sounds like I'm having a hard time. And ok, I am. But I gotta tell ya, I'd still rather be me than anyone else. I'd still rather do theatre and film and never have a "normal" day. I'd still rather own a little, but experience a lot. I'd still rather be me.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
The Acting Demons and Missing Parts
There are little mongrels, demons if you will, trolling around an actor's head. Actually, I'm fairly certain they troll around everyone's head. But I find that actors are the most inflicted due to the fact that they have to deal with themselves all the friggin' time. These demons tend to pray on those that are most sensitive and with the most potential. They are as follows:
Demon #1 & #2 (Twins): Insecurity and LFA.
Insecurity (AKA totalus doubticus) is a rather short fat fugly demon that is of a yellow mucus color. Androgenous and of a jealous disposition, it attacks you right before you go on stage and often is that voice you hear in your head that says you are not good enough or that you are unable to do what is asked of you. If encountered regularly and not exorcised properly and consistantly, said demon will consume your talent, upon which it feeds, and leave you with no will to continue to follow your dreams.
LFA (AKA Lookereth foreth Approvaleth) is the whorish sister of Insecurity that is slimy in texture and of a transparent nature. You can see right through her. She shows up right after you've finished your show. Even though you may have a conscience that pats you on your back and says "well done", LFA is a much louder stereophonic voice that says, "I need to be told, verbally and physically, how absolutely awesome I am. Or I will die." She lies. No one ever dies from LFA. But they do tend to lose respect from the very sources that they seek approval. She feeds on empty promises and compliments and is never satiated. The more you feed her, the emptier you will feel. Until you are left not believing anything anyone says and are unsure of what is lie and what is truth.
Demon #3: The Nowwat.
Nowwat is the demon that comes in the form of non-theatre based voices. Those in your life who do not believe Acting can sustain you in a career. They are those that after you complete a project, show, or educational programme, ask "Now what?" "What's next for you?" "What are you going to do now?" This demon has tentacles with suction cups attached. They detach themselves from those non theatre voices and leap onto your own tongue. Soon you start speaking with this demon's voice yourself. "Now what am I going to do?" "What am I doing with my life?" Treatment for this little asshole is, for me, a litre of faith, a good night's sleep, and a new pair of shoes. These are quick fixes, of course. The larger treatment would be to take baby steps, focusing on the Now. If you look too far forward, the Nowwat ties your tongue, gives you a panic attack, and then (in really bad cases) paralyzes you.
Demon #4: Shouldawouldacoulda
The Shouldawouldacoulda (SWC) is my mother's least favorite demon. Because I constantly remind her that he's there. SWC is a male larva that hides in your hair and makes your scalp itch. He causes you to yank on your hair in frustration while thinking about all the things you should have done, would have done, or could have done. This demon is a distant cousin to the "Ifonly" monster who lives in the realm of regret. Both of these bastards are powerless unless you give them attention. Things that should have happened...didn't. If they were supposed to happen...they would have. And sure, you COULD have done something. But you didn't. You made the decision to NOT do said thing in place of another. Accept the decision and let it go. Easier said than done. SWC often shows up right after making a decision concerning whether to take a job or not, whether you should break up with someone or not, or where to move after graduation.
So there they are. There are billions of these beetle-like demons. But these are the ones that often haunt me. I'd say I've done quite well this year in keeping most at bay. But most recently, I find Demons #2 and #3 are gnawing at the back of my neck. #2 has me looking for approval from a select few people which can be even more dangerous than wanting it from the masses. Because it gives power and control to others which opens you up to hurt and makes you less likely to be able to focus on your job. If you are worrying about whether someone likes you or if they think you are doing a good job, then you aren't actually doing a good job. FOCUS, Stacy Lynn. #3 is looming its head because it's almost June and that means in less than four months I'll be back in the US with no job, no home, no theatre support group, no europe, and no idea what is coming next. You would think that since I've been in this situation quite a few times in the last decade that it would get easier. No friends. It does not. In some ways it's a bit harder. Because the SWC monster that says "You should be [insert normal standard sign of success here] by now" is speaking just a little bit louder and it takes a little more effort to drown him out. But I do drown him out.
It has been a very long time since I've told myself that I'm not enough. At least by acting standards. And I have enough faith in myself to know that I'm going to be just fine after this. It's just terrifying. Because I want to be more than mediocre and good. I want to be great. And be paid for it. And I still have a while to go.
As for needing approval from certain people...it'll pass. I approve of myself. And it's enough. Or at least it is when I'm not being a stupid hypersensitive little girl.
As for present life. My five days off were glorious. I was emotional when I wanted to be. I was alone when I wanted to be. I was with friends when I wanted to be. Sometimes it's just nice to have the choice. I saw a couple of movies, I got sun tanned at the park (the weather has since returned to its usual gray and chill but i dont mind it feels like home) and I continued my running at the gym. I do a 10:45 mile (down from a 12:45 mile two weeks ago) and a 38:45 5K (down from a 47 minute last month). And while I still bounce around emotionally, I'm good. Really good. Because I feel like I'm doing something with my life. And that something is what I WANT to do. How many people can say that, I ask you?
I have to admit though. I've had a few moments of missing parts of the past. I'm missing Stage managing at amda with Lizz, Dang, and Keon. And Andy's deli tuna melts or egg sandwiches being delivered to us by bike messenger in Central Park. I miss Faith's family dinners and Thurston's made up songs. Broadway shows, outdoor movies, and kayaking. My mom and I drinking wine while playing Hand and Foot or swinging on the deck swing as the sun goes down. Watching Jeopardy with my dad after a steak dinner. Tap dancing on subway platforms with Pauli. Ladies who lunch at the New Leaf cafe with Nessa. Queso and big hair night at Johanna's. Opera and Movies with Carolyn and Anthony. I miss things being open at all hours of the night. Priscilla and Megalicious hugs. Going to sleep in cool sheets and waking up to coffee that was on a timer. I miss a dishwasher and my own kitchen. Scratch that. I've never had my own kitchen. But I sure would like one. I miss my cousin Tillie and how she makes me take myself waaaaaaaaaay less seriously. And my niece and nephew, it kills me that I'm missing their birthdays yet again. And I miss my brother. I miss being able to sit next to him on a couch and not have to say anything other than "it's my turn" when we're playing the wii or xbox. because though we are not the type who have deep heart to heart's all the time, we've always had an understanding. The kind of thing that only comes from two people who were brought up the same way.
But you can't be in two places at once, let alone a dozen. Which is where I'd have to be in order to have all these things in my life at once. And that's the way it is. And it's fine. More than fine. Because I am happy where I am and what's next can include any and all of these things. When we listen to the Nowwat monster, we so often forget that what's next could be even better and brighter. And there are still so many things I want to do. Will money or the lack thereof get in the way? Absolutely. But I'm going to learn to fence, ride a horse, play the guitar and cello (not at the same time), do a roadtrip of the South, see prague and paris (and do it right this time), keep fresh flowers in my house, learn to garden, to change a tire, to master a stick shift, to make an excellent caramel macchiato, and meditate. I've got lists of things I want to do and see and be.
So, Nowwat demon, I'ma tell you Now What. I got plans. So WHAT you can do NOW is sit. and rotate.
x
Demon #1 & #2 (Twins): Insecurity and LFA.
Insecurity (AKA totalus doubticus) is a rather short fat fugly demon that is of a yellow mucus color. Androgenous and of a jealous disposition, it attacks you right before you go on stage and often is that voice you hear in your head that says you are not good enough or that you are unable to do what is asked of you. If encountered regularly and not exorcised properly and consistantly, said demon will consume your talent, upon which it feeds, and leave you with no will to continue to follow your dreams.
LFA (AKA Lookereth foreth Approvaleth) is the whorish sister of Insecurity that is slimy in texture and of a transparent nature. You can see right through her. She shows up right after you've finished your show. Even though you may have a conscience that pats you on your back and says "well done", LFA is a much louder stereophonic voice that says, "I need to be told, verbally and physically, how absolutely awesome I am. Or I will die." She lies. No one ever dies from LFA. But they do tend to lose respect from the very sources that they seek approval. She feeds on empty promises and compliments and is never satiated. The more you feed her, the emptier you will feel. Until you are left not believing anything anyone says and are unsure of what is lie and what is truth.
Demon #3: The Nowwat.
Nowwat is the demon that comes in the form of non-theatre based voices. Those in your life who do not believe Acting can sustain you in a career. They are those that after you complete a project, show, or educational programme, ask "Now what?" "What's next for you?" "What are you going to do now?" This demon has tentacles with suction cups attached. They detach themselves from those non theatre voices and leap onto your own tongue. Soon you start speaking with this demon's voice yourself. "Now what am I going to do?" "What am I doing with my life?" Treatment for this little asshole is, for me, a litre of faith, a good night's sleep, and a new pair of shoes. These are quick fixes, of course. The larger treatment would be to take baby steps, focusing on the Now. If you look too far forward, the Nowwat ties your tongue, gives you a panic attack, and then (in really bad cases) paralyzes you.
Demon #4: Shouldawouldacoulda
The Shouldawouldacoulda (SWC) is my mother's least favorite demon. Because I constantly remind her that he's there. SWC is a male larva that hides in your hair and makes your scalp itch. He causes you to yank on your hair in frustration while thinking about all the things you should have done, would have done, or could have done. This demon is a distant cousin to the "Ifonly" monster who lives in the realm of regret. Both of these bastards are powerless unless you give them attention. Things that should have happened...didn't. If they were supposed to happen...they would have. And sure, you COULD have done something. But you didn't. You made the decision to NOT do said thing in place of another. Accept the decision and let it go. Easier said than done. SWC often shows up right after making a decision concerning whether to take a job or not, whether you should break up with someone or not, or where to move after graduation.
So there they are. There are billions of these beetle-like demons. But these are the ones that often haunt me. I'd say I've done quite well this year in keeping most at bay. But most recently, I find Demons #2 and #3 are gnawing at the back of my neck. #2 has me looking for approval from a select few people which can be even more dangerous than wanting it from the masses. Because it gives power and control to others which opens you up to hurt and makes you less likely to be able to focus on your job. If you are worrying about whether someone likes you or if they think you are doing a good job, then you aren't actually doing a good job. FOCUS, Stacy Lynn. #3 is looming its head because it's almost June and that means in less than four months I'll be back in the US with no job, no home, no theatre support group, no europe, and no idea what is coming next. You would think that since I've been in this situation quite a few times in the last decade that it would get easier. No friends. It does not. In some ways it's a bit harder. Because the SWC monster that says "You should be [insert normal standard sign of success here] by now" is speaking just a little bit louder and it takes a little more effort to drown him out. But I do drown him out.
It has been a very long time since I've told myself that I'm not enough. At least by acting standards. And I have enough faith in myself to know that I'm going to be just fine after this. It's just terrifying. Because I want to be more than mediocre and good. I want to be great. And be paid for it. And I still have a while to go.
As for needing approval from certain people...it'll pass. I approve of myself. And it's enough. Or at least it is when I'm not being a stupid hypersensitive little girl.
As for present life. My five days off were glorious. I was emotional when I wanted to be. I was alone when I wanted to be. I was with friends when I wanted to be. Sometimes it's just nice to have the choice. I saw a couple of movies, I got sun tanned at the park (the weather has since returned to its usual gray and chill but i dont mind it feels like home) and I continued my running at the gym. I do a 10:45 mile (down from a 12:45 mile two weeks ago) and a 38:45 5K (down from a 47 minute last month). And while I still bounce around emotionally, I'm good. Really good. Because I feel like I'm doing something with my life. And that something is what I WANT to do. How many people can say that, I ask you?
I have to admit though. I've had a few moments of missing parts of the past. I'm missing Stage managing at amda with Lizz, Dang, and Keon. And Andy's deli tuna melts or egg sandwiches being delivered to us by bike messenger in Central Park. I miss Faith's family dinners and Thurston's made up songs. Broadway shows, outdoor movies, and kayaking. My mom and I drinking wine while playing Hand and Foot or swinging on the deck swing as the sun goes down. Watching Jeopardy with my dad after a steak dinner. Tap dancing on subway platforms with Pauli. Ladies who lunch at the New Leaf cafe with Nessa. Queso and big hair night at Johanna's. Opera and Movies with Carolyn and Anthony. I miss things being open at all hours of the night. Priscilla and Megalicious hugs. Going to sleep in cool sheets and waking up to coffee that was on a timer. I miss a dishwasher and my own kitchen. Scratch that. I've never had my own kitchen. But I sure would like one. I miss my cousin Tillie and how she makes me take myself waaaaaaaaaay less seriously. And my niece and nephew, it kills me that I'm missing their birthdays yet again. And I miss my brother. I miss being able to sit next to him on a couch and not have to say anything other than "it's my turn" when we're playing the wii or xbox. because though we are not the type who have deep heart to heart's all the time, we've always had an understanding. The kind of thing that only comes from two people who were brought up the same way.
But you can't be in two places at once, let alone a dozen. Which is where I'd have to be in order to have all these things in my life at once. And that's the way it is. And it's fine. More than fine. Because I am happy where I am and what's next can include any and all of these things. When we listen to the Nowwat monster, we so often forget that what's next could be even better and brighter. And there are still so many things I want to do. Will money or the lack thereof get in the way? Absolutely. But I'm going to learn to fence, ride a horse, play the guitar and cello (not at the same time), do a roadtrip of the South, see prague and paris (and do it right this time), keep fresh flowers in my house, learn to garden, to change a tire, to master a stick shift, to make an excellent caramel macchiato, and meditate. I've got lists of things I want to do and see and be.
So, Nowwat demon, I'ma tell you Now What. I got plans. So WHAT you can do NOW is sit. and rotate.
x
Friday, May 25, 2012
Sunshine Makes Me Sneeze
ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh so much better. Things are on the mend, people. And thank, God. If you think I've been annoying you with my whining, double that and that's how much I've been annoying myself. I mean, really. Just...ew. But I have slapped myself with a nice dose of reality and perspective (with the help of some good friends and family) and am doing much better.
I'm still having the occasional tantrum and I still don't always want to be around people. But it is leveling out where I don't question my every thought and belief. Looking back on some of it now I just shake my head while turning red in the face at how much I've been resembling a screaming three year old in the children's aisle at Barnes and Noble who needs a nap and a spanking.
Anyway.
Summer, however temporary it may prove to be, has come to Glasgow. I think that has helped as well. I've seen the sun almost three days straight. It even smells like summer. And the beauty of living in Scotland is that it stays light out from 6am till 1030pm. I'm sure it's just the world's way of making it up to us for the winter of darkness where we had sun only until 3pm sometimes. But whatever the reason, it has been nice wearing a tank top and flip flops. And I also have the odd sensation of having the next five days off. Somehow scheduling just worked out that way and since I'm ridiculously anal, I finished all my term papers and prep work for the On the Verge project that now I have literally nothing to do. And it is times like these that you ask yourself...when was the last time I had nothing to do? And what the hell did I do with that free time? ...I have no idea.
I wish I had known earlier because I would have found a way to pop over to Ireland. As it is, I'm not sure if I can afford it but who knows when I'll make it back to europe again so I feel like I should just bite the bullet and do it. That's the thing, the end of this year is in sight. And I've got to start thinking about that to do list of things I want to see before I go. I want to go back to Culzean Castle in Ayr. I want to see Platform 9 3/4 at King's Cross (stop laughing at me. I know you all cried when Dobby died in the movie), and see a show on the Globe Stage as a groundling, and go to the Tate Gallery, and Harrods department store. I want to go to a ceilidh. I have a slight panicky feeling because there is SO much I want to see and I know very well that I'm going to spend the next ten years (at least) paying back loans for this year and working towards actually having a career that travelling is just not going to happen. Not unless I get reeeeeeeally lucky.
One thing I have to look forward to though is my trip with KS to Malta next month. Five days at the real blue lagoon. Oh. Pardon me while I tear up a bit out of pure joy. And this week's weather has been just a taste of that goodness. I love going to sleep with my window open and waking up slightly chilled. I love sitting outside at a cafe drinking iced coffee with my kindle (I've started reading The Portrait of Dorian Gray) and getting unattractive tan lines.
Don't get me wrong. I'm still having some bad moments of flash backs from Malfi, but for the most part I've let it go and I know I made the right decision in doing so. And the Verge project and the New Playwrights play are two projects that I can totally look forward to. The On the Verge piece has been pure freedom. I feel like I really do think for myself and have something to offer. Though at times I may offer a bit too much. But the director has been so good in letting things happen.
We had our reading of the New Playwrights piece which is the play we will tour with and will be our final project of the year. The play was good. Still a work in progress, but good. And a comedy. Which is something they've never let us do. Someone is always dying in the pieces we usually do. So it was a wonderful change. I don't know what part I am playing yet and won't know until July which is a bit of a bummer. But I have faith in the writer and this director so I am not worried.
Other than that, I am just trying to figure out how I want to fill my next days off. I know, I know. First world problems, eh? I'm thinking that with the exception of a few planned get togethers that I've already promised to friends, I should lie low. Spend less money. And figure out what it's like to be around myself. Could be a disaster. Then again, it's either that or clean my bathroom. And let's be real, I'm much better company than Mr. Clean.
thinking of you x
I'm still having the occasional tantrum and I still don't always want to be around people. But it is leveling out where I don't question my every thought and belief. Looking back on some of it now I just shake my head while turning red in the face at how much I've been resembling a screaming three year old in the children's aisle at Barnes and Noble who needs a nap and a spanking.
Anyway.
Summer, however temporary it may prove to be, has come to Glasgow. I think that has helped as well. I've seen the sun almost three days straight. It even smells like summer. And the beauty of living in Scotland is that it stays light out from 6am till 1030pm. I'm sure it's just the world's way of making it up to us for the winter of darkness where we had sun only until 3pm sometimes. But whatever the reason, it has been nice wearing a tank top and flip flops. And I also have the odd sensation of having the next five days off. Somehow scheduling just worked out that way and since I'm ridiculously anal, I finished all my term papers and prep work for the On the Verge project that now I have literally nothing to do. And it is times like these that you ask yourself...when was the last time I had nothing to do? And what the hell did I do with that free time? ...I have no idea.
I wish I had known earlier because I would have found a way to pop over to Ireland. As it is, I'm not sure if I can afford it but who knows when I'll make it back to europe again so I feel like I should just bite the bullet and do it. That's the thing, the end of this year is in sight. And I've got to start thinking about that to do list of things I want to see before I go. I want to go back to Culzean Castle in Ayr. I want to see Platform 9 3/4 at King's Cross (stop laughing at me. I know you all cried when Dobby died in the movie), and see a show on the Globe Stage as a groundling, and go to the Tate Gallery, and Harrods department store. I want to go to a ceilidh. I have a slight panicky feeling because there is SO much I want to see and I know very well that I'm going to spend the next ten years (at least) paying back loans for this year and working towards actually having a career that travelling is just not going to happen. Not unless I get reeeeeeeally lucky.
One thing I have to look forward to though is my trip with KS to Malta next month. Five days at the real blue lagoon. Oh. Pardon me while I tear up a bit out of pure joy. And this week's weather has been just a taste of that goodness. I love going to sleep with my window open and waking up slightly chilled. I love sitting outside at a cafe drinking iced coffee with my kindle (I've started reading The Portrait of Dorian Gray) and getting unattractive tan lines.
Don't get me wrong. I'm still having some bad moments of flash backs from Malfi, but for the most part I've let it go and I know I made the right decision in doing so. And the Verge project and the New Playwrights play are two projects that I can totally look forward to. The On the Verge piece has been pure freedom. I feel like I really do think for myself and have something to offer. Though at times I may offer a bit too much. But the director has been so good in letting things happen.
We had our reading of the New Playwrights piece which is the play we will tour with and will be our final project of the year. The play was good. Still a work in progress, but good. And a comedy. Which is something they've never let us do. Someone is always dying in the pieces we usually do. So it was a wonderful change. I don't know what part I am playing yet and won't know until July which is a bit of a bummer. But I have faith in the writer and this director so I am not worried.
Other than that, I am just trying to figure out how I want to fill my next days off. I know, I know. First world problems, eh? I'm thinking that with the exception of a few planned get togethers that I've already promised to friends, I should lie low. Spend less money. And figure out what it's like to be around myself. Could be a disaster. Then again, it's either that or clean my bathroom. And let's be real, I'm much better company than Mr. Clean.
thinking of you x
Friday, May 18, 2012
Please Don't Let Me Be the Cat Lady.
I spoke with my mentor not too long ago and he reminded me that whenever i have something important and highly sensitive to say, to always make sure that it is kind, constructive, and true. I keep going back and forth with whether or not i need to bring up the difficulties during the malfi rehearsal process to my dept head. It's over after all and it's time to move on. I will not be working with the people that I had issues with again for the most part. So does it really matter? Will it help anything? I have a scheduled meeting with our programme director next thursday but now I am feeling as though it may not be worth it. Do I feel like some of the things I experienced were wrong? Yes. I do. Do I feel like in some ways I was gypped in my education? Yes. I do. But will it help anything in any way by talking to someone who may or may not be listening? I really don't know. I could say, well they need to know so they can avoid this in the future. I could say, I have a right to stamp my foot and tell the truth of what really went down. But no matter how kindly I put things, or how true...would it be constructive? I'm not so sure.
I would hate to make things worse for myself. I would hate to keep holding on to this emotional crud. I would hate to be accused of using this tutorial as therapy (as I was today in my tutorial with monsieur le directeur de demon.) So. What is best?
I am finally feeling stronger and more rested. I've gotten my sense of humor back. And despite a turbulent tutorial with an array of good and bad feedback, as well as a moment of obtuse criticism and yet a few moments of praise- I am finding my way back to human. So. Do I really need to hold on to this for another week only to retell frustrations that no one can do anything about anymore? ...I suppose I've answered my own questions. I think I'll cancel my tutorial and wait for the end of term conference where I can mention off handedly (hopefully off handedly since I'll be three weeks removed from it) that some things went awry during the process. And I'll believe that my past work and my future work will speak for itself. No, I did not get glowing reviews (or even luke warm reviews) from the examination board for my performance. And that's fine. I don't plan on ever reading reviews about myself in the future and only know about these because the director had to read them to me. But I know what that project was, why it ate itself from the inside, and why I did not succeed to the best of my ability. So I'll write my stupid summative term paper. And I'll write what they want to hear (even though I'm chewing down bile the entire time). And then I'm going to leave this section of my life behind, remind myself that there will be other classical pieces that I will be in, and that once again, this was just a miniscule blip on the radar of my career. And it's time to let the mother f&^ker go.
Now. To bigger and better things. The On the Verge project is going well, I think. I'm fairly sure that I will, in fact, be singing in it and I think the idea is going to really work. Now, more than ever, I am so grateful for the people I am working with. It makes it easier for me to just plow through without asking myself "but will i look stupid?" It's the one thing I really hope to get over in the time I have left here. I am so aware and concerned with embarrassment that it stops the creative flow. Or at least slows it down. I hate it, but I just need to make a huge ass out of myself more. And then accept it.
I'll admit that I'm not fully recovered from last week so it's been a bit difficult getting into the right mind set for the Verge. And it touches on subjects that I usually avoid so I'm even more hesitant. We did a particular improv where each character explained their view on marriage and then sort of challenge each other. As I said before, my character believes that marriage is a given. It's just done and there is no doubt in her mind that she will get married and that it will be great. What I have surprisingly discovered is that there is still a part of me that is that hopeful and innocent. That truly wishes that things might work out for the better. That marriage could make things even better. To enhance a relationship. I don't know why that feeling is there. Or why that makes me feel silly to sort of believe it.
But that improv was agonizing for me. People throwing statistics and logistics, making marriage a sterile and clinical contract of legalities. Sucking out all the romance, tradition, and feelings out of it. Complicating it with words like "divorce rate" and "studies show". As myself, I completely understand those points and facts. But when I put myself in the position of someone who believes in marriage so fully but only based on belief and feelings and no hard facts, it was easy to feel attacked and stupid. It was like telling someone that you still believe in santa claus when you are 30. I dont, btw. It was like talking about politics or religion; something I rarely do. Because when you speak about something you believe, with people who dont...well there are no winners. And it hurts. Because I want to believe that something can be unpoisoned. That weddings and marriages are something that celebrates the fact that you dont have to go through life alone anymore- not just a piece of paper that binds you and strangles all your freedoms. And those other characters shat all over it.
I think feeling caged is a pressure we put on ourselves. But then again, I suppose that depends on the type of spouse you are. I'd like to think that I wouldnt need to be with my significant other 24/7. That if he wanted to go on a trip with the boys or have an outside hobby which I don't care for, that I'd be absolutely fine with it. Because frankly, I'd expect the same thing from him. I've never understood relationships where if you invite one person, the other person HAS to be there as well. But hey, I've not been in all that many relationships. So what do i know?
It's crazy how this process forces you to think "what exactly do I believe?" And I think it comes to this, JS said something to the effect of, "I believe in marriage. But I believe you can take the chance, get married, and if it doesn't work out, hey, you tried." And I kind of believe that as well. It should be hard to get into and even harder to get out of. But if you find someone who you want to try to beat the statistics with, I say do it. It's better than being the cat lady. And besides, I'm allergic to cats.
Anyway. This weekend is dedicated to writing those stupid- oh. I mean really really awesome- term papers. Then I can fully focus on this Verge project. And our first reading of our Playwright's script is on Tuesday. So only positivity and creativity to look forward to. Back on track.
Thinking of you x
I would hate to make things worse for myself. I would hate to keep holding on to this emotional crud. I would hate to be accused of using this tutorial as therapy (as I was today in my tutorial with monsieur le directeur de demon.) So. What is best?
I am finally feeling stronger and more rested. I've gotten my sense of humor back. And despite a turbulent tutorial with an array of good and bad feedback, as well as a moment of obtuse criticism and yet a few moments of praise- I am finding my way back to human. So. Do I really need to hold on to this for another week only to retell frustrations that no one can do anything about anymore? ...I suppose I've answered my own questions. I think I'll cancel my tutorial and wait for the end of term conference where I can mention off handedly (hopefully off handedly since I'll be three weeks removed from it) that some things went awry during the process. And I'll believe that my past work and my future work will speak for itself. No, I did not get glowing reviews (or even luke warm reviews) from the examination board for my performance. And that's fine. I don't plan on ever reading reviews about myself in the future and only know about these because the director had to read them to me. But I know what that project was, why it ate itself from the inside, and why I did not succeed to the best of my ability. So I'll write my stupid summative term paper. And I'll write what they want to hear (even though I'm chewing down bile the entire time). And then I'm going to leave this section of my life behind, remind myself that there will be other classical pieces that I will be in, and that once again, this was just a miniscule blip on the radar of my career. And it's time to let the mother f&^ker go.
Now. To bigger and better things. The On the Verge project is going well, I think. I'm fairly sure that I will, in fact, be singing in it and I think the idea is going to really work. Now, more than ever, I am so grateful for the people I am working with. It makes it easier for me to just plow through without asking myself "but will i look stupid?" It's the one thing I really hope to get over in the time I have left here. I am so aware and concerned with embarrassment that it stops the creative flow. Or at least slows it down. I hate it, but I just need to make a huge ass out of myself more. And then accept it.
I'll admit that I'm not fully recovered from last week so it's been a bit difficult getting into the right mind set for the Verge. And it touches on subjects that I usually avoid so I'm even more hesitant. We did a particular improv where each character explained their view on marriage and then sort of challenge each other. As I said before, my character believes that marriage is a given. It's just done and there is no doubt in her mind that she will get married and that it will be great. What I have surprisingly discovered is that there is still a part of me that is that hopeful and innocent. That truly wishes that things might work out for the better. That marriage could make things even better. To enhance a relationship. I don't know why that feeling is there. Or why that makes me feel silly to sort of believe it.
But that improv was agonizing for me. People throwing statistics and logistics, making marriage a sterile and clinical contract of legalities. Sucking out all the romance, tradition, and feelings out of it. Complicating it with words like "divorce rate" and "studies show". As myself, I completely understand those points and facts. But when I put myself in the position of someone who believes in marriage so fully but only based on belief and feelings and no hard facts, it was easy to feel attacked and stupid. It was like telling someone that you still believe in santa claus when you are 30. I dont, btw. It was like talking about politics or religion; something I rarely do. Because when you speak about something you believe, with people who dont...well there are no winners. And it hurts. Because I want to believe that something can be unpoisoned. That weddings and marriages are something that celebrates the fact that you dont have to go through life alone anymore- not just a piece of paper that binds you and strangles all your freedoms. And those other characters shat all over it.
I think feeling caged is a pressure we put on ourselves. But then again, I suppose that depends on the type of spouse you are. I'd like to think that I wouldnt need to be with my significant other 24/7. That if he wanted to go on a trip with the boys or have an outside hobby which I don't care for, that I'd be absolutely fine with it. Because frankly, I'd expect the same thing from him. I've never understood relationships where if you invite one person, the other person HAS to be there as well. But hey, I've not been in all that many relationships. So what do i know?
It's crazy how this process forces you to think "what exactly do I believe?" And I think it comes to this, JS said something to the effect of, "I believe in marriage. But I believe you can take the chance, get married, and if it doesn't work out, hey, you tried." And I kind of believe that as well. It should be hard to get into and even harder to get out of. But if you find someone who you want to try to beat the statistics with, I say do it. It's better than being the cat lady. And besides, I'm allergic to cats.
Anyway. This weekend is dedicated to writing those stupid- oh. I mean really really awesome- term papers. Then I can fully focus on this Verge project. And our first reading of our Playwright's script is on Tuesday. So only positivity and creativity to look forward to. Back on track.
Thinking of you x
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Making Abba Sound Sexy.
I know what you're thinking. Abba already sounds sexy. How could it possibly get any sexier? Well, I'ma 'bout to try. Allow me to elaborate.
So the renaissance projects are finally over. I still feel nothing. But at least I've had an average of 10 hours a night of sleep so I am finally feeling a little more stable. Thank God. It's a very alarming thing to not trust your own thoughts and feelings. And to walk on eggshells because you are afraid of yourself. But this weekend was a time of disappearing and I revelled in every moment. I'm still not finished, but I'm on my way.
On Sunday I had coffee with KS to decompress. And boy did we ever. It was three hours of getting off our chest everything that we didn't give ourselves time to process over the last few months. The point was to get it out there, release it, and then be able to start fresh. And I felt a helluva lot better once I did. It helps so much to have a friend who you can say the strangest or most pathetic things to, and they don't even flinch. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I'm lucky to have KS around.
Monday was easy peasy for the most part. I had a mini photo shoot with my On the Verge partner JS for our poster to hang around the school. We spent an hour or so posing in couples' photos with cake smashed on our faces. Me, with a huge over enthusiastic smile. And JS, with facial expressions that spanned from "I wanna kill myself, please don't let me marry this woman" to "I feel like a kicked puppy." I'll post the photo below so you can check it out.
Doesn't he look thrilled?
Following that, I had a one on one session with our fearless director PB where we discussed possible music selections. Songs or snippets for me to sing in order to make the character a little more dynamic. As I've said before, the character is a feeling based person who comes from the element of water (see very early blog posts for explanations). And most songs are written from a feeling center. So it fits. Freaks me out. But it fits. And I have missed singing. This will be a good challenge. And something so far away from what I've been doing the past few months that I just know it's going to be good for me. Which is where ABBA comes in. The songs we are looking at are the cheesiest wedding songs on the face of the planet. Taking the piss out of a few but then possibly taking one horrible one, and revamping it to sound good and heart felt. I suppose these songs worked at one point for a reason. So I'm going to try to make them work again.
I'll admit I don't know this character yet and haven't a clue as to what she will become. But after observing a few people in the last day or so, I'm getting some ideas.
Yesterday was another one on one with the director and we discussed the root of what this character believes when it comes to marriage. Her first wedding she ever went to and how she believes that marriage is a given. Which is a huge stretch for me because I absolutely Don't believe it is. In the polite words of PB, "well, that's why they call it acting, babes." lol. Yes. Too true. So it's time to talk to some friends that I know who think like that. I remember growing up and thinking, "well, yes. You grow up, get old, get married, have two kids (a boy and a girl), a good job, and then you're 30." ...right. I've got the first and the last. I'm still working on the middle. I don't mind all that much. But the point is, I don't think it is a Given. That marriage is inevitable. And certainly not that marriage will make things all better. That it's just another step towards bigger happiness. Not that it can't be. But I think the odds are against you.
Right. So. All I have to do is some rewiring of my beliefs. Piece of wedding cake. Could be good for me. Reliving a time when I believed in unicorns and that Mt. Rainier was white because it was covered in frosting. No problem.
Today was a surprise day off. I thought to myself, I said, "Self, you know you want to sleep as long as you can and then read your book and then go back to sleep." Too true. I do. "But you also know that you have two and a half term papers due in less than two weeks." Shh. I can't hear you. "So I guess you better start on those." Ugh. You suck, self.
So that's what I've been doing. And I've made some good progress. I should hopefully have them wrapped up by this weekend. I will, of course, leave the bibliography till the very last moment since I hate doing them and never do them correctly anyway.
Feeling better and moving on. Huzzah.
x
So the renaissance projects are finally over. I still feel nothing. But at least I've had an average of 10 hours a night of sleep so I am finally feeling a little more stable. Thank God. It's a very alarming thing to not trust your own thoughts and feelings. And to walk on eggshells because you are afraid of yourself. But this weekend was a time of disappearing and I revelled in every moment. I'm still not finished, but I'm on my way.
On Sunday I had coffee with KS to decompress. And boy did we ever. It was three hours of getting off our chest everything that we didn't give ourselves time to process over the last few months. The point was to get it out there, release it, and then be able to start fresh. And I felt a helluva lot better once I did. It helps so much to have a friend who you can say the strangest or most pathetic things to, and they don't even flinch. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I'm lucky to have KS around.
Monday was easy peasy for the most part. I had a mini photo shoot with my On the Verge partner JS for our poster to hang around the school. We spent an hour or so posing in couples' photos with cake smashed on our faces. Me, with a huge over enthusiastic smile. And JS, with facial expressions that spanned from "I wanna kill myself, please don't let me marry this woman" to "I feel like a kicked puppy." I'll post the photo below so you can check it out.
Following that, I had a one on one session with our fearless director PB where we discussed possible music selections. Songs or snippets for me to sing in order to make the character a little more dynamic. As I've said before, the character is a feeling based person who comes from the element of water (see very early blog posts for explanations). And most songs are written from a feeling center. So it fits. Freaks me out. But it fits. And I have missed singing. This will be a good challenge. And something so far away from what I've been doing the past few months that I just know it's going to be good for me. Which is where ABBA comes in. The songs we are looking at are the cheesiest wedding songs on the face of the planet. Taking the piss out of a few but then possibly taking one horrible one, and revamping it to sound good and heart felt. I suppose these songs worked at one point for a reason. So I'm going to try to make them work again.
I'll admit I don't know this character yet and haven't a clue as to what she will become. But after observing a few people in the last day or so, I'm getting some ideas.
Yesterday was another one on one with the director and we discussed the root of what this character believes when it comes to marriage. Her first wedding she ever went to and how she believes that marriage is a given. Which is a huge stretch for me because I absolutely Don't believe it is. In the polite words of PB, "well, that's why they call it acting, babes." lol. Yes. Too true. So it's time to talk to some friends that I know who think like that. I remember growing up and thinking, "well, yes. You grow up, get old, get married, have two kids (a boy and a girl), a good job, and then you're 30." ...right. I've got the first and the last. I'm still working on the middle. I don't mind all that much. But the point is, I don't think it is a Given. That marriage is inevitable. And certainly not that marriage will make things all better. That it's just another step towards bigger happiness. Not that it can't be. But I think the odds are against you.
Right. So. All I have to do is some rewiring of my beliefs. Piece of wedding cake. Could be good for me. Reliving a time when I believed in unicorns and that Mt. Rainier was white because it was covered in frosting. No problem.
Today was a surprise day off. I thought to myself, I said, "Self, you know you want to sleep as long as you can and then read your book and then go back to sleep." Too true. I do. "But you also know that you have two and a half term papers due in less than two weeks." Shh. I can't hear you. "So I guess you better start on those." Ugh. You suck, self.
So that's what I've been doing. And I've made some good progress. I should hopefully have them wrapped up by this weekend. I will, of course, leave the bibliography till the very last moment since I hate doing them and never do them correctly anyway.
Feeling better and moving on. Huzzah.
x
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Bird Shit and Hiding Shame.
This is not one of my finer moments. But I assure you I am 100 % sober. And I have always promised to be honest when it came to this blog. So here it is.
I'm having a tough time. I wish I had the excuse that I was drunk. But for some reason, no matter how hard I tried to get inordinately pissed at the cast party tonight, nothing could shut out the thinking. So much thinking.
We finished Duchess of Malfi and Measure for Measure. Finally. And I feel as though I have a bad taste left in my mouth. At first I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. People felt an array of sadness or nostalgia. But I was numb all over. As if what was completed was as important as burnt toast.
And twenty four hours later, I keep waiting for release and relief. And all I can identify in terms of feelings is...I am disappointed. And, though I try so hard to deny it. I am angry. And what's more, I am ashamed to feel it. I came to this programme, to this school, to focus on classical acting. And the one main project that we do, the one time we focus completely on a classical piece, and it turns out to be one of the worst personal experiences I've ever had in theatre.
This is not to say that I did not have some good times with my cast. Or that I value my fellow actors less. Because they are what made the past few months bearable. And, despite a couple snafus, the show itself turned out to be very good and solid. Sure we had our second show slump (abismal, really) but then we turned it around and had three more really solid shows. And Measure was, in my eyes, always solid.
But speaking solely from a personal stand point...I know I should be able to find good things in all situations. I should accept and embrace. blah blah blah. But damnit. I'm struggling with it. And I don't know why.
I had a nightmare last night about all the things I did wrong in the run of Malfi. All the things I didn't say or could've said. I know very well that this doesn't help anyone. That there's nothing I can do about it now. But I am constantly haunted by how much shit I had to eat. By how badly I wanted to verbally pulverize some into the ground. And once again, I am ashamed that that impulse was there.
And it feeds into my relationships with people.
Do you ever feel like you just can't get anything right? Like whatever comes out of your mouth is just going to be rotten? I've said it before, I'm usually so careful with my words, but lately, I feel like I'm falling out of the "well spoken" tree and hitting every "tactless and feckless" branch on the way down. I'll think I've said something harmless. Or something clear. And then find out that I've completely torn a hole through someone. And by the time I've discovered my mistake, it's too late. And I feel like there's not enough duct tape in the world to suture it back together. And I'm sorry for it.
I feel helpless and careless. I feel tired and used. And I'm still angry.
I got an offer for a job today from NYC. A stage management job. Even a year later, people are still offering me jobs for SMing. Sometimes I wonder if it's a sign. Sometimes I wonder why the hell I keep pushing for something that brings so much annoyance, sleeplessness, and self doubt. Why do I keep pushing?
My last Duchess show, I felt like an overacting hack with a case of the stutters. I felt like an imposter. I felt like a fool. And I felt scared. Because I knew four months from now I'm going to be back in America. And I don't want to be. I'll admit it. I like my microcosm here. I like my safe little cocoon that I've spun. Where people think I'm something. Where I think I'm something.
And then I remember. I AM something. And I am just being a self indulgent little ass by whining about nothing or spilled milk or whatever analogy fits the situation. And that's enough. If I hurt someone, then I make it better. If I can't make it better, then I pray for forgiveness. From God and from the person I offended. If I am questioning whether or not I should be an actor, then I need to shape up or ship out. There's no room for "poor me's" and pity parties. I acknowledge that I've been through a lot these last few months. I acknowledge that I'm entitled to one good cry and maybe a tantrum or two. but that does not give me license to be an asshole. So. Get your shit together Stacy Lynn. Forgive yourself. And for God's sake, stop being so melancholic. You are better than this.
And to those I've offended, you know who you are, I am sorry. I will replace the foot from my mouth with words of love. Though I have an awful amount of pride, I will admit when I am wrong or have chosen the wrong approach. I have done so with you, "person-who-cats-hate". And I will make it up to you.
As for what's next. I can only imagine that it's all good things from here on out. I hope to write more of interesting and exciting experiences. It is the home stretch of my time here. On the Verge and then our New Playwrights' plays and tour. and then that's it. With the exception of little workshops here and there and the Edinburgh Fringe...that's it. How can that be it?
In other news, I got my haircut today and then right afterwards, a bird shat on my head. It was green. And smelly. I am told that that is good luck. My only question then would be when this luck will start kicking in. And, if said luck is a myth, where the effing aerial bomber of a pigeon is so I can kick it's feathery green poo-ing disease ridden ass. stupid flying-rats...
I'll give 'em till July. If the luck doesn't kick in by then, there'll be another animal on the extinction list.
I'm having a tough time. I wish I had the excuse that I was drunk. But for some reason, no matter how hard I tried to get inordinately pissed at the cast party tonight, nothing could shut out the thinking. So much thinking.
We finished Duchess of Malfi and Measure for Measure. Finally. And I feel as though I have a bad taste left in my mouth. At first I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. People felt an array of sadness or nostalgia. But I was numb all over. As if what was completed was as important as burnt toast.
And twenty four hours later, I keep waiting for release and relief. And all I can identify in terms of feelings is...I am disappointed. And, though I try so hard to deny it. I am angry. And what's more, I am ashamed to feel it. I came to this programme, to this school, to focus on classical acting. And the one main project that we do, the one time we focus completely on a classical piece, and it turns out to be one of the worst personal experiences I've ever had in theatre.
This is not to say that I did not have some good times with my cast. Or that I value my fellow actors less. Because they are what made the past few months bearable. And, despite a couple snafus, the show itself turned out to be very good and solid. Sure we had our second show slump (abismal, really) but then we turned it around and had three more really solid shows. And Measure was, in my eyes, always solid.
But speaking solely from a personal stand point...I know I should be able to find good things in all situations. I should accept and embrace. blah blah blah. But damnit. I'm struggling with it. And I don't know why.
I had a nightmare last night about all the things I did wrong in the run of Malfi. All the things I didn't say or could've said. I know very well that this doesn't help anyone. That there's nothing I can do about it now. But I am constantly haunted by how much shit I had to eat. By how badly I wanted to verbally pulverize some into the ground. And once again, I am ashamed that that impulse was there.
And it feeds into my relationships with people.
Do you ever feel like you just can't get anything right? Like whatever comes out of your mouth is just going to be rotten? I've said it before, I'm usually so careful with my words, but lately, I feel like I'm falling out of the "well spoken" tree and hitting every "tactless and feckless" branch on the way down. I'll think I've said something harmless. Or something clear. And then find out that I've completely torn a hole through someone. And by the time I've discovered my mistake, it's too late. And I feel like there's not enough duct tape in the world to suture it back together. And I'm sorry for it.
I feel helpless and careless. I feel tired and used. And I'm still angry.
I got an offer for a job today from NYC. A stage management job. Even a year later, people are still offering me jobs for SMing. Sometimes I wonder if it's a sign. Sometimes I wonder why the hell I keep pushing for something that brings so much annoyance, sleeplessness, and self doubt. Why do I keep pushing?
My last Duchess show, I felt like an overacting hack with a case of the stutters. I felt like an imposter. I felt like a fool. And I felt scared. Because I knew four months from now I'm going to be back in America. And I don't want to be. I'll admit it. I like my microcosm here. I like my safe little cocoon that I've spun. Where people think I'm something. Where I think I'm something.
And then I remember. I AM something. And I am just being a self indulgent little ass by whining about nothing or spilled milk or whatever analogy fits the situation. And that's enough. If I hurt someone, then I make it better. If I can't make it better, then I pray for forgiveness. From God and from the person I offended. If I am questioning whether or not I should be an actor, then I need to shape up or ship out. There's no room for "poor me's" and pity parties. I acknowledge that I've been through a lot these last few months. I acknowledge that I'm entitled to one good cry and maybe a tantrum or two. but that does not give me license to be an asshole. So. Get your shit together Stacy Lynn. Forgive yourself. And for God's sake, stop being so melancholic. You are better than this.
And to those I've offended, you know who you are, I am sorry. I will replace the foot from my mouth with words of love. Though I have an awful amount of pride, I will admit when I am wrong or have chosen the wrong approach. I have done so with you, "person-who-cats-hate". And I will make it up to you.
As for what's next. I can only imagine that it's all good things from here on out. I hope to write more of interesting and exciting experiences. It is the home stretch of my time here. On the Verge and then our New Playwrights' plays and tour. and then that's it. With the exception of little workshops here and there and the Edinburgh Fringe...that's it. How can that be it?
In other news, I got my haircut today and then right afterwards, a bird shat on my head. It was green. And smelly. I am told that that is good luck. My only question then would be when this luck will start kicking in. And, if said luck is a myth, where the effing aerial bomber of a pigeon is so I can kick it's feathery green poo-ing disease ridden ass. stupid flying-rats...
I'll give 'em till July. If the luck doesn't kick in by then, there'll be another animal on the extinction list.
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