But If You Try Sometimes, You Get What You Need

Being an actor is tough - anyone who has ever faced the emotional roller coaster of auditioning can attest to this. It seems everyone has heard that actors should "get used to rejection", and its true, you do learn to live with the potential that you will not get all the roles you want. Sadly, this makes a rejection streak somewhat jarring when coming off of a ""pinch-me-could-I-possibly-be-this-lucky" streak. Hello, depression.

My friends, trying their best to be helpful (when honestly they're probably thinking what a jerk I am for not being satisfied with the roles I've already portrayed in 2013) suggested I had been working non-stop for so long perhaps I needed the break. Nonsense! I huffed, I get depressed when I'm not onstage - which is absolutely true. 

But there are always things we don't see coming. Several months ago, I was asked to be a bridesmaid in my sister's wedding in July and the Matron of Honor in a college buddy's wedding in October. I was terrifically excited for a couple weeks, and then I promptly derailed into my incessant worries about being "the fat bridesmaid". This worry coupled with a convenient groupon forced me to face my anxiety/fear and take a yoga class. Once I'd used the value of my groupon I was hooked. I kept taking tougher and longer classes as often as possible. Given my heavy rehearsal schedule, this was difficult, but I made the time. Eventually thought, my theatre schedule and my yoga schedule because un-workable. 

Undeterred, I signed up for a yoga channel on my Roku and began practicing at home... however, by this time I had lost a fair amount of the balance and strength I had gained over those months. I was thinking it was okay, and I was still feeling like I was much more toned than I had been - although it concerned me that on my monthly doctor visits I seemed to weigh more than I felt I ought.

...then my sister's wedding photos came in. They are stunning, the photographer did an amazing job, but I am without a doubt "the fat bridesmaid". Staring at those photos, I considered my new-found free time, the Husband's recent decision to start walking on his lunches at work, and the fact that our 3 year old Australian Cattle dog had picked up a little extra pudge around his hips. I decided we would walk as a family (the 10 year old cat would not be forced along as I once tried to walk a cat and it was a wildly unsuccessful endeavor which resulted in my sister and I dragging a large, very fluffy blue cream calico by a leash down the sidewalk - thank goodness for all the fur or the sidewalk would have done a number on her side!) I ran the plan past the Husband and he agreed. We would walk on the bike path down by the river every night, unless it was dark or raining. I was allowed to run ahead if I wanted to and he was allowed to bring his swanky new camera if he wanted. That was last week. Last week we walked on Monday, had a meeting on Tuesday and then we got lazy. Over the weekend I stepped in a hornet's nest and while attempting to strip my hornet-laden clothes to get into the shower, I stepped on one, it promptly stung me, causing me to scream, jump, roll my ankle and fall... No running on Saturday, Sunday, or Monday.

Today, I felt better. I convinced the Husband we needed to get moving and we'd both feel better. He relented. I planned to walk, but immediately found myself - just as the week before - interval training. It seemed I wanted to be able to run again. I was proud. Last week I ran 3 miles in 43 minutes, with an average pace of 14:18. Tonight I ran 3.40 miles in  46 minutes, with an average pace of 13:37! Not bad improvement. I was so pleased, I decided to set a goal. I plugged in my weight  and told my app I would like to lose 15 lbs by the day of my friend's wedding. The app told me this was a tough goal - nothing I didn't already know... then I got home and actually weighed myself and found I actually weighed 8lbs more than I thought. 

Suddenly, I'm so thrilled for this spare time I plan on running tomorrow sunshine or torrential downpour. Also, despite the late hour, I'll be prying myself out of bed super early tomorrow so I can do some yoga before my morning shower. With any luck I'll at least weigh what I thought I weighed before when I slip on that espresso satin sheath in October.

Everybody's free to feel good

Tomorrow marks two momentous occasions: my first yoga practice in over six weeks and my first MadLab Christmas.

I was terrified to take on this Roulette role. I never thought I would be able to allow myself to be gutsy enough to pantomime having sex onstage. The idea scared the shit out of me, but I couldn't see a reason not to take on the challenge. It was a tough rehearsal process, opening up, exposing myself in such a way... but I kept at it and I like to think I found my stride. But the best bit has been acting with my husband. This play, the intimacy, the honesty - it has opened up our relationship in little ways I would have thought  weren't possible after almost nine years of marriage. I am unbelievably grateful.

Just a mere year ago, I was an incredibly unhappy person. Unfulfilled, frustrated, over-worked, under-appreciated, and my talents as an actress were simply not being utilized. I felt I was not valued anywhere and that no one truly appreciated me. Now, I'm overwhelmed by the roles being offered to me - the opportunities to stretch myself and grow I had been longing for. My marriage is happier, my friends are true.

I missed 6 weeks of yoga due to unfortunate, unforeseen circumstances. I don't regret my choices, but I regret the impact missing practice for so long has had on my body. Admittedly, I'm pretty scared to go tomorrow - I'd hoped to have some moral support, but perhaps it's better this way. Yoga is about inner strength, sometimes it's a good thing to take something on by yourself.

You will look for me, and I'll be gone

On a couple of occasions I have been in the final relaxation pose of a particularly grueling yoga class and sudden found myself almost in tears for various reasons. Last time it happened it was a joyful recognition of all the wonderful people and opportunities I have in my life. Tonight was very different. 

Lying there in savasana, completely relaxed, suddenly moments from She's Dead floated into my all - all of the most painful moments: Judy yelling at Erin about her funeral plan on Christmas, Sam saying his love for her will live on until the heart of the ocean drowns, Judy saying "Goodbye my sweet baby."  It didn't quite bring me to tears, but it was very overwhelming. 

As I packed up and left the studio, I was calm. I wondered why that had come to me like that. Then as I turned on the car and plugged in my iphone, the shuffle, brought up the last song of the show. The song which began as Erin was covered with a sheet and carried out by her loved ones. That was too much. I sobbed, alone in the car - feeling as though all the tears which I couldn't let myself crying during performances (since corpses don't cry!) were suddenly forcing themselves to the surface.

I don't get post-show depression, I just get depressed when I'm not acting and fortunately I have two roles on deck right now. There are some shows I miss longer than others, and this may very well be one that takes a bit to get over, but I have never physically grieved for a show before. It was unnerving and surreal.

No day but today

Since my first theatrical production at 13 I've hated the end of a run. There's something slightly devastating about letting go of this person - these people who have become so much a part of you, even if it's just been a few short months. It's been 20 years since that first audition and I have learned to let go, but I wouldn't say that it has ever become easy for me, although some shows are harder than others.

Tonight I will say goodbye to Erin. A character I knew I wanted to play when I first read the script almost year ago, one I was thrilled to be cast in, and one I have fully enjoyed portraying. Erin is endearing, funny, joyful, and so very caring - and the cast is one I'm lucky to have had the pleasure to work with. So despite my intense excitement at the two roles I am just beginning to rehearse, I'm already finding myself sad to see Erin go.

I hope the new people I have met will keep in contact, but as Erin's boyfriend says, "I don't know. I really don't know what's going to happen." So instead of focusing on the voice in my head reminding me that after tonight the next time I walk into the theatre we will have already moved on to our next production - there will be no Titantic, no deathbed, no thermostat, no front door, or fabulous painted floor, I'm trying to focus on today. Tonight, there will be nothing but joy.

Erin wouldn't want a tearful goodbye.

"Acting represents all that human beings experience, and if you want it to be 'nice' you will never be a serious communicator of the human experience." - Larry Moss

Me: "Acting is fucking brutal. People who think otherwise make me want to punch things."
Friend: "And there you have it.... just agreeing with you."

I've mentioned before my extreme distaste for those who think actors "lazy" or "stupid" since actors are the hardest working people I know. Tonight has just served to remind me how incredibly foolish those people are.

Over the past several weeks I've bee rehearsing a show I loved from the day I read it. I had my heart set on a specific role - in fact it was the only role I cared about being cast in for my company's 2013 season. In the beginning I thought the tough part would be the fact that the part requires partial nudity - something I've never done before, then I thought the hard part would be the fact that she is dying. I was wrong on both counts.

The more I learned the role, the more I mulled over everything about the script, the more I got a feel for all but one short scene - and along the way I found myself losing touch with a different scene which is so pure it almost brought me to tears during my audition. I kept thinking I would find a way back to the honest emotion of that scene - and I would figure the other out, but it didn't happen.

I broke down and voiced my concerns to the director, but tonight somehow it was just too much too bear anymore. My fellow actors were pouring their hearts out and I just knew I was letting them down. "You're FINE" everyone kept telling me as we left the theatre - there are two problems with that, the first being how can you possibly accept that when every cell in your entire being says you're not being present or honest? The second? How is "fine" ever acceptable in the arts? Fine is simply not good enough. If fine is your goal, why are you even trying?

I drove home in such a daze I'm not even sure I was aware of anything but the fear, failure, and loathing welling up in the back of my throat. I wasn't entirely sure where I was going -I wasn't headed home. Finally, I pulled into an empty park.

I reached out to ask advice of two people I trust. I re-watched Patsy Rodenburg's Why I Do Theatre TED Talk video, I googled a million links until finally something struck a chord. Then, one of the two friends responded and her response simply built upon what I'd just figured out. After reading and re-reading the scene I realized... I had gotten so inside my own head I wasn't participating.

That's right - while playing a girl who is dying, but is so caring she is far more hurt by the pain she realizes she is/will be causing her loved ones with her untimely death than she is concerned for herself... I was busy thinking about myself. In short, I was being human and had lost sight of the intention. I felt a broken, worn out fool. It took me 5 hours of intense scrutiny to see something so obvious it could have punched me in the face. But then, perhaps I'm still looking from the wrong perspective. Maybe I needed to be hit in the head, but in the end I did work through it and I'm feeling pretty confident that on Saturday when I have a chance to attempt the scene again this time I'll get it right. With two weeks to go, that doesn't seem like such a bad place to be.

Finding Balance

I'm not sure why, but it always seems as though everything comes together all at once. Now, it is true I've handled some recent monumental letdowns - but mostly in spite of barely having time to live I've been joyfully accepting, attempting, and opening up about things I spent years, even decades concealing.

I was cast in the one role I desired most this season and I am thoroughly enjoying the discovery, the play, - and the vulnerability in the role.

I started taking yoga, and have consistently taken 1-3 classes per week for several weeks now. I feel great, I have a more positive self-image, and I have been to appreciate and love myself in a way I never thought  could.

I wrote a new play- a short one mind you, but a complete one that I feel good about - and then I showed it to people, Not many people, but a few people I trust. For the first time in the 12 years since I started writing plays, I actually feel like I'm hiding a talent, rather than looking back on something I once thought I could do. It reminds me I once applied for a very prestigious fellowship, and although I was rejected, the rejection letter gave every indication I was seriously considered - and that my writing was intelligent, confident, ambitious in all the best ways and full of enormous promise.

It seems I am facing fears one by one. Fear is a powerful thing, but mostly because it gathers like a storm of doubts and what ifs - when we stand tall and look them straight in the eye, they're just hurdles we can take one at a time. I promise I will continue to take those hurdles, confidently, giving in to the discomfort so I can find the honesty, the humor, the promise, the fullness and the joy.

Lucky I'm in love with my best friend, lucky to have been where I have been...

Sometimes these days I take stock and can't quite believe how far I've come in a year. This time last year I was unbearably miserable. I trusted no one. I had no friends, no faith in myself, no sense that I fit in anywhere - and yet I kept trying to squeeze myself into every space I thought I might fit.

Then something happened. I was terribly let down, stabbed in the back by those I had once thought I could trust the most... and that allowed me to see how abusive our relationship had become. I was once again allowing someone to brutalize me emotionally for no good reason - a decade after I had vowed I would never let anyone do that to me again. It was horrible, but it was also freeing. Once I let go of the tears, I could let myself float, and see where I fit. I could make my own choices, be my own person  - but more than anything I could put myself in situations which would challenge me.

Since that time:
I've become closer with my husband.
I've met new friends and become friends with others who were previously just acquaintances.
I've taken roles I didn't want because I knew they would push me, and I have tried my damndest to do them justice.
I've written two scripts.
I've agreed to do nudity onstage, because I love the role so much I think its worth the vulnerability.
I've opened up to people about how I was raped when I was 20.
I've started a new 101 in 1001 and have already accomplished several things on the list.
I finally got the guts to paint my living room the color I wanted to - in spite of what others might think.
I stopped caring what others think so much, and started to become the person I once was back before the first time I allowed someone to abuse me.

I have SO much joy in the last 5 months of my life - I've played melodrama, a crochety grandma, a lesbian desperate for a baby, a poet reunited with the man who could have been the love of her life, and now I'm playing a truly joyful girl who is dying far before her time and yet cares far more about how it will impact the others in her life, oh and up next? I'm gonna share the stage with my husband. Something I haven't done since 1998. It'll be raunchy, but sweet, and I'm looking forward to the experience.

My baby sister and one of my best friends from college - two women who have lived through a world of pain have found truly deserving men and I'm thrilled to put on a pretty frock and stand up there to share in their special days.

Honestly, I'm not sure how one gets so lucky.

Life Upon the Wicked Stage

     All of us in the theatrical community have heard reference to "the acting bug", but in truth it seems to be more of a parasite than a generic bug. Dictionary.com defines a parasite as the following:  "an organism that lives on or in an organism of another species, known as the host, from the body of which it obtains nutriment." However, there are studies which show occasionally there are parasites which are just as helpful to the host, for example hookworms in small quantities prevent humans from suffering from allergies, asthma and a myriad of other common ailments without harm to the host.
    The "acting bug" is like that. That's why people call it a bug, once the creature has found a cozy nest inside its host, it may lie dormant, but it never lets go. Attempts to suppress the creature, to live what most might refer to as a "normal life" serve only to weaken the nature of the host.
    It's been too long since I've eagerly anticipated the fight for a role and now that has arrived I feel electric. Every fiber of my being buzzes with thought, passion, courage - I don't just want to win this role - I want to find the precipice of the emotional barriers, spread my arms, close my eyes and leap.
    Those around me think I'm mad, perhaps I am, since now that my schedule has cleared up I've signed on for one show and am auditioning for two more. All I can say is if this is madness, let me stay mad.

Review: Shepherd Productions, Waiting for Godot

Even though it was 16 years ago, I still recount in awe the sheer acting brilliance portrayed by the Tony, Drama Desk, and Obie Award-winning actor/director Brian Bedford.  I was 17, watching a production of Peter Shaffer’s Amadeus. For those less familiar with the play, it tells the life of Mozart through fellow composer, Salieri who is tormented by Mozart’s success and seeks to destroy him.  The story begins at the end of Salieri’s life, then quickly shifts to when the pair were young men – and as I sat there in the cushioned seats of the Festival Theatre in Stratford Canada I was spellbound. Here was a man who could do something I had never seen before, in the space of seconds he was utterly transformed from a completely believable frail old man to a sprightly youth. 

          Last night, during the opening night of Shepherd Productions performance of Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot, I was reminded of this experience due to the sheer talent of the cast. Admittedly, I am familiar with all five actors and the entire production team, in just the past six months I have directed one of the actors and appeared onstage with another, but these were not the men I know. 

          I first saw Waiting for Godot for a high school class when it was presented by the (long gone) Red Herring Company. Although half my life has passed in the meantime the two experiences could hardly be more different. Red Herring ‘s production was presented (to my memory) on an almost entirely bare stage in an old warehouse with the audience seated in folding chairs, Shepherd’s version is on a set which is simultaneously austere and slightly whimsical due to Doug Northern’s stunning design.  Both productions deftly brought forth the inherent humor, without losing sight of the grit and world-weary humanity.

          Last night, however I was in awe of the transformation of two men whose talents I already admired, Jim Azelvandre as Gogo initially robbed all attention, delightful to watch in his misery – his physicality and facial expressions lending a nuanced blend of the addled and childlike. However,  Jeff Potts as Didi held his own, showing true skill, appearing older, and burdened perhaps equally by his ongoing appointment with the mysterious Godot, the ever-increasing loss of Gogo’s mind, and doubt of his own intelligence.

          John Feather as Pozzo and Michael Moore as Lucky make a well-suited pair as they charm, sputter, and growl through their two appearances and  Robert Prines does a fine job of displaying the needed contrast of youth and innocence.

          As I mentioned to a friend last night, it is possible the thing that was most different about my experiences with the two productions of Waiting for Godot was me, more specifically the depth of life experience – 17 years and philosophy minor later, certainly the script held me rapt in entirely different ways… as it should.  Regardless, where you are in life this is a production everyone should make time to experience. What you see in the production, and in yourself, just might surprise you.

Waiting for Godot runs Thursday-Saturday, September 6^th-8^th and 13^th-15^th at 8pm, with a matinee at 2pm on Sunday, September 9^th.  Tickets are $15 ($10 for Student/Senior), to reserve yours visit www.madlab.net or call 614.221.5418.