What Baby Goats Can Teach Actors

It is the things we are most passionate about that make us want to bang our head against a wall.

I have lived on a farm all my life and, believe you me, it's the kind of work that makes you question why you are even doing it in the first place. It's hard. There's a lot of disappointment, like when some rodents get to your root vegetable crops or an opossum gets in the chicken lot and cleans house or when you bury the horse you've had since you were eight. And most jobs are chronic. No matter how many times you shovel, the horses still poop.

But we keep farming, out of the belief that it's crucial to who we are or the world around us. Or out of pure stubbornness. Or because we get those moments we live for, like after a hard afternoon of shoveling, my sweet horse Loretta rests her chin on my shoulder. Or when you open the barn door and are met with this...

Nothing is more perfect or wonderful to me as a farm girl than a healthy newborn baby goat. Within an hour of their birth, they can stand and feed themselves. Within days, they are jumping from objects twice their height. They have fantastically cute little noses. Honestly, they make me make tiny, high pitched noises. They make it worth all the fence repairs and tackling their mothers and aunties when they prey upon the garden.

Baby goats are the moments as an actor when you are reminded of why you do what you do. When you move an audience member in ways even they never expected. When you nail that performance. When you score that role. When your mentors tell you that they're proud of you. Those are baby goats. Treasure them. Soon they will grow up and start tearing down fences and eating arugula of their own.

Inspired by "Fearlessness"

I've been working on a bunch of applications lately, hoping to find an internship for my relocation to Chicago or further training opportunities. I've been calling it my "Application Bonanza." One of them required a one-page statement on something that inspires me. I wasn't really sure where I was going when I started writing this, but it ended up being an introspective piece that speaks on an idea that I, along with many actors, covet. Here it is.

In art and in life, I am inspired by fearlessness. Or, I should say, what is perceived as fearlessness, because I believe the truth of that concept lies in the willingness to face a fear, no matter how overwhelming it is. Every day as artists, we make a choice about how far out on the ledge we put ourselves and the composure we keep while there. In my eyes, fearlessness is a combination of these two elements as well as the confidence necessary to do it over and over again. I envy the actors that I hear described as 'fearless', knowing that my work in the past has been described as 'fearful'. I can't imagine that any human is completely devoid of trepidation when attempting to truthfully bare the character's emotions and desires within themselves and sometimes failing, so I have been observing myself and others for the key to being perceived as without fear, not only as an actor but also in everyday life.

I think of Josephine Baker, who was revolutionary because of her style of dancing and because of the fact that she was a black woman in the 1920's who was revered all over the world. Not only that, she became a major figure of the French resistance during World War II. In a time when her culture was still expected to keep their heads down, she was carrying resistance documents across boarders with what I'm sure was a fabulous and alluring air, but I can only imagine the heart-pounding paranoia she must have felt. She also integrated Carnegie Hall and was bisexual, all the while she had a pet cheetah named Chiquita. So much for keeping her head down. I'm inspired by her strong convictions, by her poise while keeping them, by her determination to see them through. In a word, I am inspired by her fearlessness.

I think of Eve Ensler, who was a theatre artist living in New York who wrote The Vagina Monologues, not for her own benefit, but to give a voice to women who are otherwise unheard. In doing so, she made herself face her own past and also opened a dialog about something that our culture—and many others—simply don't talk about. She talked about vaginas in public and she talked about them in first person, as if they were her own, which takes immense confidence. In doing so, she has put a spotlight on vaginas and violence against women, a spotlight which shines all over the world now. She continues to stare down her fears as she travels to countries and talks to women who have endured what most Americans can't imagine. Then she brings it home and describes it, even when it is not something the world wants to hear. I imagine how many times she must have thought about not doing the first production of The Vagina Monologues. (She even wrote “When I first read these monologues, my most pressing concern was being able to get the words out of my terrified mouth.”) I imagine her unease at revealing her own past and her own insecurities. And yet she went further out onto the ledge and with each new publication, she continues to push the envelope with confidence that betrays her own fear that she has entrusted to her followers.

I can think of many others, but my page is almost full. With them, as with Josephine Baker and Eve Ensler, I admire their ability to see through the fear they are met with with a confidence that fools boarder patrol and audiences alike. I aspire to that level of fearlessness—the combination of bravery and confidence—that makes great people and great actors. I work on it every day, when I keep myself from worrying about a flub in rehearsal or by refusing to wait by the phone after an audition, or by blatantly admitting to you, a stranger, what goes through my head when I hear someone call another actor 'fearless': envy, admiration, and determination.

Valuables

On Friday, I returned from a 12-day trip to England--a trip primarily made to watch my brother's graduation from Durham University. Of course, that was only one part of one day, so I did plenty of other things, including drinking lots of pints and eating lots of pub food.

I had lots of beautiful things to say to you about England. Words like 'brooding', and thoughts about how it is most certainly Shakespeare's country, even today. But I can't share the sentiments I had then with you now because I don't have them anymore.

We left Wales last Wednesday morning en route to London, with stops planned at Avebury to see the standing stone circle and at Salisbury to see a more famous bunch of rocks, Stonehenge. After a little navigational mayhem, we made it to the first destination. It was cold and misting heavily. While my hair had spoken to me that morning and said "rockabilly", it was quickly veering toward "tribble." (And I'm sorry if you got that joke without looking it up.) The weather made a perfect atmosphere for walking amongst the ancient circle.

 

It also seemed appropriate for what greeted us when we returned to our rental car. 

I remained relatively calm as I realized that my mother and I had been victimized. I was even pretty chill when I saw that my backpack was the only thing that was taken, but when I remembered that my acting journal was in my bag, I lost it.

I remember the day I bought my journal. My movement teacher, Martin, had given my class a lecture about how we should respect our journals and our reflections on our craft, how the spiral-bound notebooks and stapled notebook paper we'd been turning in wasn't good enough. He told us that when he moved to the east coast from California, it was the box of his journals that he was most concerned about. I went to my university bookstore and walked up to the sketchbooks. I knew immediately that it was mine. It was the last one, bright red on a black shelf, with big, empty pages, and a strong elastic around it to keep it closed. I bought it and stapled the pages that I had been turning in to Martin on the first page. The next time I turned my journal in to him, he wrote in it something along the lines of, "I love this book. It shows the importance of what's inside."

When I last had my journal, it had stickers inside the front cover, and the cover was peeling back on the edge where I'd bumped it somewhere. The elastic was loose and pointless. It was close to full. It is a classic case of not knowing what you have until it's gone. You'd better believe I realized what I lost when I walked up and down the road by the car park, literally sobbing, hoping to see it discarded in the ditch. The rockabilly makeup went to hell too. I felt like a fool for not protecting it, for thinking no one would take a bag full of things without any monetary value, for not listening to the signs that the world had given me. 

I cried and cried. I still cry a little. The police took notes and said they'd look for my "bits" but I know that somewhere in Avebury or nearby, the penmarks are melting away and the pages are giving way to pulp in the cold English rain. No police officer, no matter how charming, realizes that one of my "bits" was actually a huge piece of my understanding of myself and my craft. I feel as though I've gone backwards.

This post is partly mourning--literal mourning. It is also partly me asking you to think about what is valuable to you. I saw a dozen signs that day instructing me to not leave valuables in the car. I took that to mean my iPod and my wallet, which were with me, thinking no one would take a backpack with two American Theatre magazines, an extra pair of underwear, and a copy of the French Lieutenant's Woman. I would trade money for my journal any day.

We never got to Stonehenge. Pinched for time after taping a trash bag over the empty window and speaking to the police, we went straight to London. I had planned to copy all those beautiful words about Shakespeare's "brooding" country out of my journal. That's what I meant when I said I don't have them anymore. I only have fragments. I am re-defining the word "valuables" for myself. And maybe--hopefully--for some of you too.

Mottos for 2012

I hope all of my readers are having a wonderful holiday season (that includes you, person who found me by searching 'girls underarms and boobs'. Welcome to my acting blog.) and are feeling good about what's been accomplished in the past year. (Take a look at my post on creating an annual review.) For myself, I'm feeling frustrated when I look back at the past year. When I look at where I am now compared to where I was late December, 2010, I can't find anything that's really changed. There have been some great events, like working at Perry-Mansfield and doing my first professional show, but it still feels as though I haven't grown much. I'm still living with my mom. I feel stuck and incredibly unproductive, as much as I talk big about efficiency here. I should be taking advantage of this free time and living situation, but the reality is I haven't even opened the past two issues of American Theatre.

I'm not sure why I feel uninspired, but continuing to live at home is not helping. So by this time next year, I hope to look back on this post and see how much has changed this time around. Aside from the goals I set in my Year In Review post, I've also been coming upon themes/mottos for next year in my journaling (which I've been much better about--not perfect, mind you, but better).

JUST START--This was the first motto that came up when I was initially battling lack of motivation. It worked decently well, to the point that it became not about starting, but sticking with it in my second theme. At the moment, however, I may need to revisit this one.
COMMIT--If I start something, it often has a hard time transitioning into a regime. For example, it's been a week since I worked out. I need to work on the repetition essential to forming habits.
TAKE TIME TO ADVENTURE--I have friends with fabulous international jobs and, to be perfectly honest, I'm pretty jealous of them. I feel as though I am tied down by my career, that if I don't slave away at it constantly and currently, my time will expire. Au contraire. In many of the workshops and talk-backs I had the pleasure of attending in college, the speakers emphasized the idea that we have time. Not only that, but I believe that the best way to understand the lives we portray is to experience the life we are given.
DO ONE THING EVERY MONTH TO FEEL FABULOUS--I'm ready to leave the self-conscious, only moderately successful, poorly-dressed actor that I was in college behind me when I move. I want to give Chicago a version of me that looks and feels confident without compromising whatever eccentricities that are inherently me. My favorite blue cardigan with the hole in it will have to go. Every month, I will do one thing to make me feel a little less dorky and a little more polished.

Have a happy new year everyone! Hydrate today and stay safe tonight. Tomorrow, we (stop having Buffy the Vampire Slayer marathons with my cat and Netflix and) start anew.

A Year In Review

Friday the 18th marked the 1-year anniversary of the completion of my degree. It's weird enough to graduate. It's even weirder to have graduated a year ago. When I left college, I was completely exhausted and plans for the coming year aside from "move" and "get a job" weren't really taken into consideration. I have my momentum back and I am going to take this anniversary as an opportunity to review the past year and create goals to reach before next November 18th.

I've never conducted an annual review, so I have been referencing some of Ben Whitehair's posts from Playbills v. Paying bills (here and here) as well as his source, Chris Guillebeau here (includes a spreadsheet template for your own annual review) and here.

Looking Back
Stats 
7 Auditions
1 Call-Back
1 Role

34 Blog Posts, including this one (approx. 1.6 per week)
Approaching 2,000 pageviews

?? Headshots dispersed (several hard copies and plenty of digital copies)

What Went Well
I did well this year to take advantage of opportunities (sometimes unexpected) that came my way, including my time as a camp counselor. During that time, I tapped into skills I didn't even know I had, leadership and working well with kids, which I hope to continue to develop. There is also something to be said for getting an acting job while living with my mom in the middle of nowhere. Not only am I proud of getting the role, I am also proud of my performance. While I was working on the show, I developed a strong relationship to the artistic director of the theatre and I think the relationships I've formed and maintained have been a highlight of the past year.

What Did Not Go Well
It has been a challenge to find ways to motivate myself to work at full capacity, knowing there's nowhere I need to be in the morning, no due dates, and no professors who's respect I want to earn. It's just been me, sans schedule and time restrictions and, while I have gotten some things done this year, the level of my productivity is disappointingly low. I also had every intention of being in Chicago by now, which may have been possible with better planning and budgeting. The extra time at home will inspire more restlessness, I think, but possibly also generate a little more money for when the time does come to move.

Looking Forward
Guillebeau suggests creating categories and setting 3 to 5 goals for each one. So here it goes:

Acting (artistic):

• Read the rest of Shakespeare's plays.
• See 15 plays.
• Enroll in an acting class. (Auditioning?)
• Bring monologue repertoire up to 10 total (5 classical and 5 contemporary). 
• Journal every day. Yeah. Every day. I think about acting that often, therefore I can write about it that often. 

Acting (business):

• Increase blog postings to twice a week, possibly add interviews and reviews.
• Increase tweets to 2+/day
• Send out mailings every quarter.
• Send out professional email every quarter.

Financial:

• Create a budget and stick to it.
• Set up retirement fund and contribute $20/month.
• Set up credit.

Health and Fitness:

• Run a 5k.
• Flexibility--To be able to sit and bend at the hip with elbows resting between legs. To be able to hold bottoms of outstretched feet.
• Join a soccer team.
• Largely replace snacks with more protein and veggies and less salt and fat. (So this one's not really measurable. Whatever. You know what I'm sayin'.)

Friends and Family:

• Send friends mail or goodies at least once a month.
• Return home for Renaissance Fair and/or Christmas.
• Date night with Chris once a week, even if we stay in.

 Other Jobs: 

• Set up etsy site and have steady supplies of cards and coasters.
• Put out advertisement for baby, pet, and house sitting every 2 weeks.
• Add self to care.com.

Habits To Pick Up:

• Knitting
• Sewing
• Get back to writing fiction and poetry. 
• Driving (No, I still don't drive. Don't make fun of me.)
• Paper crafts/Collage

I realize that some of these goals are subject to change, as I will soon be in a new city with new challenges and there will be a lot of adjusting in many aspects of my life. Many of the goals are created specifically for once I am settled in Chicago. I didn't quite make it there this year, but when people ask when I'm moving, I say "In the spring" or "April or May." I no longer preface my answer with "Hopefully" or end it with "...but we'll see." It has been set in motion. Another post coming soon about the steps I'm taking to prepare, but until then, let me know your goals for 2012 or in general!

The Discouraging Start

I had every intention of spending this summer with one theatre company or another, continuing my training and adding a little something extra to my resume before I move to Chicago in the fall. Unfortunately, things have proven to turn out a little differently. Out of the seven companies I auditioned for, I have received four rejection emails. Some of them were expected. Some of them were encouraging. And some of them couldn't even manage to put a "Dear Elise" at the top and a "Sincerely" at the bottom. The remaining three, in my mind, boil down to one "not a chance," one "not likely" and one "still reviewing."

It has been frustrating to know that my start out of the gate has been slow, that I spent money and time traveling to auditions in which the people behind the table hardly paid attention. That I will never know just what went wrong, and if it was anything I could change. Watching my peers excel while I warm the proverbial bench this summer is going to be tough, but the disappointment and comparison of myself to others is something I can deal with. However, being so removed from the acting world has already had an effect that has caused my very patient and supportive boyfriend to recently say he's wondered where I've been lately. I think my restlessness, lethargy, lack of motivation, moodiness, etc stems from my 5 month-long detachment from the thing that has propelled me for the last few years. I guess reading the New York Times and American Theatre just ain't cuttin' it.

So I chose April 30 to be the last day that I look for responses from the summer opportunities that I applied to, which makes today the first day of defiantly planning an artistically productive summer. In other words, its time to quit moping about rejection letters and do something with myself that will make me more "hire-able" next time around. Might as well make my own opportunities. I'll design my own daggum training program. Curriculum on its way soon.

As they say: slow and steady wins the race. Half speed, full intention.

Dropping Like Flies?

As a young theatre artist, my blood pressure rises every time I read about the financial crises that are causing theatres on both coasts to send out SOS calls. After reading in American Theatre that Actor's Express in Atlanta would need "$200,000 by the end of July to stay afloat," I had to consider it against the travel expenses to audition for their internship program. In the end, travel expenses won. (Read their distress call here.) Just now, I read in the NYT that the Intiman Theater in Seattle (whose troubles were also highlighted in AT) has canceled the rest of their season as well as the jobs of the staff. I even got an email a few months ago from the Shakespeare Theatre of New Jersey, where I was an apprentice last summer, that they had not met their fund raising goal and were looking for donations.

While New York theatres seem to be holding on okay, (with Spider-man: Turn Off the Dark bringing in well over a million every week without having even opened yet) I think that regional theatre work is essential to our community, especially to those of us who are just joining. Not only does it give us newbies a place to start without trying to jump into the deep end that is the Big Apple, it also provides an outlet for regional voices that may one day make it to the big city.

I don't think that the floundering of two theatres means the death of the regional circuit. However, with government funding for the arts dwindling and possible donors and patrons feeling pinched for money due to the still-recovering economy, thinking about it makes me a little queasy. It makes me feel like it's not quite as strange as I once thought when my friends discuss survival plans for the zombie apocalypse.

Okay, the zombie apocalypse is silly, but how do we approach this possible conundrum in a way that will benefit us as artists, both individually and collectively? I'm all about donating time and work to the betterment of a theatre (I was notorious for devoting myself to a zillion projects at once in college), but at this point we all know:

Can we promote our favorite companies in a way that will convince audiences, donors, and sponsors that theatre is a worthwhile place for the money that they are clutching to during this economic struggle? Maybe there is more to be mined from the ever-expanding world of social networking and the iPad, since technology is something people are unafraid of spending time and money on. Or perhaps it's time to stop waiting for patrons to come to us and take theatre to them, by which I mean focusing on even smaller communities than regional theatres. Each community has a story that could potentially be told on stage. AT even had an article on a puppet theatre that did shows in people's backyard. Is it possible that traditional ways of doing theatre have become old hat to the point that it's difficult to fund anymore? Is there any one change in theatre that will bring audiences back and define the newest generation of artists? Just some food for thought.

On the other hand, I could be freaking out too much and every generation of artists coming into this crazy world have been faced with one problem or another. Either way, from what I've seen of my colleagues, I think we'll come up with something.

Black Swan and the New Year

I've had a pretty big first week of 2011 between an application and an audition and freaking out about them both. I intend to write about them soon, but I want to kick off 2011 with a discussion about Black Swan. Not so much as a rant about how great it was (although I can do that too, if you'd like), but to reflect on it as a performer and what it means to me in the new year.

Aside from my brief stint in high school of wanting to be a badass (which was against my character to the point of being amusing), I have always been a Nina, that is, the White Swan side of her. Fearful, fragile, easily disappointed in myself. And, like her, I am an absolute perfectionist to the point of detriment to my work. By which I mean that the intense focus Nina and I both put on technique leads to tightly controlled, timid performance. Which works if you just play the White Swan over and over again, but I think this personality has this flaw because we want more than that. We want to be perfect. Which doesn't even come close to happening until we release our obsession with it. Kind of a Catch-22, isn't it? Makes you want to go crazy and start sprouting feathers or something.

I was a little unsettled by how much I related to Nina (but not as unsettled as I was by screaming paintings and ripped hangnails). There was the center of my difficulties as a performer, right in front of me, in unavoidably large and freaky format. After I released my boyfriend's (probably numb) arm from my death grip as the credits rolled and re-entered a very cold 2011, I came to understand that it's time to address what Thomas says: "The only thing standing in your way is you." I struggled with myself and my perfectionism throughout college, but didn't have the time or energy to take the journey it requires to get out of my own way. I've graduated now and while I have no intention of taking crazy drugs or hanging out with Mila Kunis, it's time to experience, to be a little less careful. I don't need to check my phone seven times to make sure it's off or decline an offer to hang out with someone because I don't know them very well and my social skills are lacking. This year, I intend to find more freedom and confidence in myself as a person and a performer. It's time for a little visit to the Black Swan.

...Will let you know if my eyes turn red or my toes grow together.

God Only Knows...

In the past few years, the movie Love Actually has become embedded in my family's Christmas tradition. Aside from the fact that it is ingeniously written and edited, it treats Christmas not as the greatest spending season of the year, but as a time for surrounding yourself with love and telling the truth. So in the true spirit of the holiday, here is a bit of a more personal post. Because, as Natalie says, “If you can't say it at Christmas, when can you, eh?”

Graduating college is a huge milestone that I haven't completely come to terms with yet. Perhaps I will when the diploma arrives in the mail. Maybe I will when it's framed on my wall. Or when it's yellowed years from now. To be unfortunately frank, my time in college was not as enjoyable as I wanted it to be. I worked unbelievably hard. I went to extra help sessions instead of parties. Spending time with people outside of class meant we were working on a scene. What made it worse was that for all the work, I wasn't getting cast and I began to resent the people who did. I also was growing more and more disgusted with what I perceived as superficiality as an attempt at professionalism in my department. Until I came to terms with the fact that I was the only person who could have made things better, I secretly blamed it on everyone around me.

My time at the Shakespeare Theatre of New Jersey began to get me over my bitterness by getting me to open up. I was in an environment where I didn't have any resentment for the people around me, so there was none to hide. I can honestly say that I have never grown more as an actor than during my time there, which was coupled by growth as a person. I ordered my first beer in a bar. I also took my first shot of straight liquor. (I don't always use alcohol as a benchmark, by the way.) I didn't get anxiety when I had something to say in class or when I needed to call up a scene partner to schedule a rehearsal. My self confidence soared and I made 25+ unbelievable friends in eleven weeks.

When I returned to college for my final quarter, the shell went back on. The bitterness returned and I was more miserable than when I left in the spring. A couple weekends into the quarter, I realized that I was staying in my room and working on Friday and Saturday nights and didn't know where to go to hang out. My boyfriend got far too many calls on weekend nights with me crying on the other end because I had become better friends with my notebooks than with people. When he told me to go hang out with friends, I insisted I didn't have any. It was around that time that all of you came out of the woodwork. In droves. It honestly kind of freaked me out. Here were these people that I assumed didn't think I was worth speaking to who were being nice to me. It took me a while to quit questioning and take it for what it was. So I came to your parties. I talked to you in the hall. I accepted your compliments as genuine. I probably came off as being socially awkward, but the last few weeks of college became the most enjoyable of the three and a half years I spent in Savannah. I may not have had time to figure out how to make an acquaintance a friend or how to make a friend a good friend, but in the last few weeks you understood that my grumpy ass wasn't going to even try unless you said something first. It wasn't your responsibility or your duty, but you did it anyway and instead of letting me meander off into graduation, you conferenced with me about moving to Chicago, you barraged me with hugs after my senior show, you complimented me when I never thought you would, you walked me out of Crites Hall for the last time and into the real world. And all that time, I had convinced myself I was alone.

This Christmas, I wanted to let you know what was really going on in my brooding little mind and that you changed it. Toasting to you for helping me find a happier, healthier mindset as I wait for my diploma and a fresh start for the coming year. To fellow students, readers, friends, teachers, mentors, family: God only knows what I'd be without you. Merry Christmas to you all!

Loris Takes Manhattan (plus thoughts on relationships)

If you don't know what a loris is watch this. This little guy went into my repertoire of random characters at the beginning of my summer at the Shakespeare Theatre of New Jersey, and received much attention there. When I returned to New Jersey to see friends and to go into New York for various sightseeing expeditions and to see Driving Miss Daisy on Broadway, the loris made a definite reappearance.

My first time in “the city” as everyone up there seems to call it went something like this:

Day 1 (December 13)

• Get off plane at JFK, having pressed my face to the plane window in search of the New York skyline, only to realize that it was on the other side of the plane.
• Talk to cranky ticket lady and pay $15 for a bus ticket to Grand Central
• Get on bus and fear for my life due to New York drivers.
  • See NYPD Crime Scene Unit van. Look for Gary Sinese.
  • Gawk at tall buildings.
• Get to Grand Central. Stand in main concourse area. Take pictures like a tourist.
• Meet lovely Heather, who's father is conveniently a professional driver. Use his service to get to World Trade Center subway stop. Feel sad.
• Follow Heather through subways and Path trains to her stop in NJ.
• Go to her house. Find it insanely cute. Discover that the toilet paper is folded into points. Remember depth of love for Heather.
• Take a nap and get a shower while Heather goes to company Christmas party.
• Reunite with Lauren, who comes back with Heather after listening to the Artistic Director talk for much longer than expected.
• Head back to the city to meet my professor and mentor Sharon Ott to go see Driving Miss Daisy.
  • Realize on the way that we have left far too late and not only will miss my meeting time with Sharon, but also curtain for the show. Start running. Subway. Taxi. Runrunrun.
• Find ticket at will call. Slip into theatre. Crawl over half an aisle of people. Realize Sharon's not mad. Slow breathing. Watch first Broadway show.
• After stepping out into the cold and high-winds, follow Sharon to Ruby Foo's in Times Square to eat some sushi, have drinkies, and talk.
• Meet back up with the girls, head back to New Jersey for warm PJ's and sleep.

Day 2 (December 14)

• Head into city with the girls in early afternoon.
• Lunch at the Tick Tock Diner on 8^th and 34^th. Grilled chicken sandwich with smoked mozzarella and red peppers.
• Go to Mecca. AKA The Drama Book Shop. Spend too much money on two new plays and a workbook on creating emotion on demand.
• Go to Bryant Park. Take pictures with the tree. Poke around in shops. Buy hot chocolate.
• Meet Jenny at Rockefeller Center. Look at tree.
• Walk around until we find Thai food. Order things we can't pronounce.
• Head back to NJ to watch Peter Pan.

Day 3 (December 15)

• Back to the city one more time with Heather.
• New York bagel at Grand Central. Everything with cream cheese. Yes.
• Buy another bus ticket. Hugs. Climb onto bus and head back to the airport.
  • Watch cranky old man get mad at everyone because he doesn't know where he's supposed to be. A lady asks what airline he's looking for and he goes off on her for calling it an airline.
• Get there way early. Buy $3 Coke. Re-read Mrs. Warren's Profession. See flight has been delayed 10 minutes.
• Walk out onto the tarmac. Feel cold. Get on plane. Sit in last row next to the bathroom.
• Finish Mrs. Warren's Profession as plane lands in Charlotte, NC.

I think it's pretty clear that I hardly scratched the surface of New York. It's an exciting city that I definitely see myself returning to, but it was not the life-changing must-live-here visit that it has such a reputation for. To me, the most important part of this trip was reinvesting in the relationships I've developed in the past year or more.

As actors, we always hear about “contacts” and that “it's who you know.” It's important and it's professional and yaddayadda, but relationships shouldn't be pushed aside on a personal level. I'm not totally sure how to talk about this without sounding totally cheesy, but it's the holidays, so that's acceptable, right? I realized over drinks with Sharon that my relationship to her had changed since I graduated. First of all, I was drinking a rum and coke. Second, we were talking about more than the play we just read in class or when is that paper due. We talked about theatre, pursuing a career in theatre, and also things that have nothing to do with theatre. This last bit is where I think thank-you note contacts and the truly important relationships diverge. These are the people who advise you, keep you sane, give you a place to crash and go with you into the city to make sure you take the right train. They recommend grad schools and score you free tickets to Driving Miss Daisy. They give you someone to talk to about things that are not related to acting in the least. And you should do whatever you can to return the favor. It is not really about “the more the merrier” in your contact list, but how well you tend to who is there. Since Christmas is usually misinterpreted as a season for excessive and empty consumerism, I encourage you guys to stick more closely to a more warm fuzzy connotation and take some time to foster the relationships that are really important to you, both as theatre artists and in general. Do them a favor, meet them for coffee or drinks and pay for them, make them homemade goodies, anything that tells them that they are more than just a “contact” to you. As a general greeting for everyone on my list, I took some pictures with my favorite critters on the farm.

Happy Holidays from Loretta, Sophie and myself!

Winter Motivation

I have now been a college graduate for a week and a half. I have nothing pressing to do and I have an excellently warm down comforter that I have become very fond of in this 25 degree mountain weather. Unfortunately there is an issue amidst all of this which is the lack of motivation I have felt in the past during winter breaks. My college is on a quarter system, meaning that the typical school year consists of three intense ten-week sessions. They are exhausting. Contrary to popular belief, art school is very demanding. Anyway, the end of fall quarter usually involved me taking a train home, collapsing in bed and getting absolutely nothing done from mid-November to January. Having graduated, that has now become mid-November to infinity. Which means it's time to start fighting inertia.

I came up with a plan which is to do one thing every day for my career. Simple, easy, but also easy to forget. So what have I done so far and what little things can you do to keep invested in your career over the snuggly break?

• I've compiled a group of contacts for career updates out of professors, directors, agents, acquaintances in the business, and so forth.
• I have begun the search for monologues for upcoming auditions.
  • Check the company's season
  • Research audition requirements—how many pieces, how long, classical/contemporary?
  • Make a list of possible monologues for you as well as pieces you already know.
  • Mix'n'match to the requirements
  • Get memorizin'!
• I have been in touch with the marvelous photographer Carly to get my headshots touched up.
• Checking in with my professor about when she's holding Non-Equity auditions for her production at GA Shakes.
• I've been checking in on Playbills vs. Paying Bills, my personal favorite actor blog.
• I have contemplated and executed a few ways to make some money (listed my drumset, textbooks, sold cookies at the farmer's market)
• I started this blog.

Other things I'm going to be working on...

• Continuing audition prep.
• Working on my application for the Kennedy Center American College Theatre Festival's Dramaturgy Award (more on dramaturgy and the process in another post)
• Reading all the plays that I've been pretending I knew what people were talking about when they were brought up.
• Watching all the movies that I've been pretending I knew what people were talking about when they were brought up.
• Early planning for the move to Chicago.
  • Even if you've got a while before the big move to a new city, you can start looking at apartment rates, researching what are good neighborhoods, as well as agents and theatres that you would be interested in. Do you know anybody there? When can you visit? Where are the best places to get pizza?
• Email update/holiday greetings to earlier mentioned contacts group.
• Possible trip to New York to see some really good theatre.
• Start reading the New York Times and American Theatre.
• Use TCG's ArtSearch to look for potential jobs and internships.

Obviously, this is not an exhaustive list, as fifteen or so bullet points is a lot less than infinity. But it's a start. I've been pleasantly surprised that in doing one thing, I have been quickly led to another. Even in writing this post, I came up with several other things to work on. Without school bearing down on me with due dates and expectations, it has become more manageable and (dare I say it?) fun. So while that down comforter is awfully cozy, crawl out for a while and just start on something. It will be there when you come back.

Any additions to the list? Post them in a comment!