So, I didn't get far with the board meeting. Turns out, I had a 101.6 temperature. I went to the meeting, tried to stay with it, and gave up 20 minutes in.
Now, I very foolishly took a hot shower after that meeting, and then registered a temperature of 102.4.
Sort of scary.
Four Tylenol and some rest later, I was back at 98.3 this morning.
I go through this to remind myself that being that tired might, just might, be my body's way of tipping me off that something isn't quite right.
I'm hoping it's back to quasi-normal now.
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Weary
I am tired beyond anything I've felt in my life. There are times I've had less sleep than this, but this is less like physical exhaution and more like being underneath a very deep expanse of water. The effort it took me to walk 6 blocks today was sort of hilarious - I had to sit down in the park halfway and rest.
The resting was entertaining because there was a fountain in the midst of the square where I stopped, and two ladies, seemingly unconnected to each other, had jumped a fence and plowed through some very expensive landscaping to splash around in that fountain. While part of me looked askance at them because they clearly had to trample some plants to get in there, the other part of me said, you know, ladies, more power to you. There's a fountain there, and you're daring to use it.
Eventually it turned out one of the ladies had left her socks right where I chose to sit down, and rather than participate in what would surely have been a very long conversation, I decided to press onwards. I was lucky there was a bench sitting outside the elevator when I arrived at my destination.
That destination was an audition. One in which I had to get super excited and jump around. I will level with you: I did not think I would be able to do that. But shockingly, when the moment came, apparently I had some reserve power.
Now I have collapsed on the sofa and I am cursing the board meeting I must attend tonight.
The resting was entertaining because there was a fountain in the midst of the square where I stopped, and two ladies, seemingly unconnected to each other, had jumped a fence and plowed through some very expensive landscaping to splash around in that fountain. While part of me looked askance at them because they clearly had to trample some plants to get in there, the other part of me said, you know, ladies, more power to you. There's a fountain there, and you're daring to use it.
Eventually it turned out one of the ladies had left her socks right where I chose to sit down, and rather than participate in what would surely have been a very long conversation, I decided to press onwards. I was lucky there was a bench sitting outside the elevator when I arrived at my destination.
That destination was an audition. One in which I had to get super excited and jump around. I will level with you: I did not think I would be able to do that. But shockingly, when the moment came, apparently I had some reserve power.
Now I have collapsed on the sofa and I am cursing the board meeting I must attend tonight.
Friday, June 21, 2013
Someone else's house
I need a nap in the worst way, but I'm babysitting, and while this fantastic child is currently asleep (thank heaven for just this moment), I am guessing if I lay down and close my eyes, he will decide to wake up.
Still, it's raining, and the windows are open in the back of this flat, and it's such a peaceful place to be, here in someone else's house, without my own baggage and without my own mess-I-haven't-cleaned-up and with the rain coming down outside.
Now if the people in the apartment upstairs would stop having a party or re-arranging furniture or whatever loud thing is making it sound like herds of elephants live upstairs, it would be entirely lovely.
Lord, I hope beyond hope we are not this loud to our downstairs neighbors.
Still, it's raining, and the windows are open in the back of this flat, and it's such a peaceful place to be, here in someone else's house, without my own baggage and without my own mess-I-haven't-cleaned-up and with the rain coming down outside.
Now if the people in the apartment upstairs would stop having a party or re-arranging furniture or whatever loud thing is making it sound like herds of elephants live upstairs, it would be entirely lovely.
Lord, I hope beyond hope we are not this loud to our downstairs neighbors.
Thursday, June 20, 2013
Callback and forth
So, things are going well professionally, at a time when I had planned to be free to do a lot of traveling. Well, horse piss. I've been trying to think of it as a no-lose situation - if I book this super cool project, I make a nice chunk of money, earn my Equity card, and get some probably high profile exposure in a show that's likely to be pretty moving and good. And even if I don't, I've probably made a good impression on people who are booking professional actors for well paid work. Plus, if I don't book this project, I will actually be free to do a bunch of traveling that I keep saying I will get around to and never get around to.
So, no-lose, right? Win-win? Boy, if only I could feel like this more often, I think I would perform so much more effectively in auditions.
Well, we'll see. My impression of my good impression may be highly rose-tinted, and I know they saw a ton of great people. There's just such a specific energy in a room when you seem to be doing well, when you seem to be giving them what they are looking for. Years ago, I went to a callback and starting singing and the two co-directors looked at each other and nodded slightly and I thought, "Yeah, I just booked this." And I had. But equally, I had a long drawn-out audition a few years ago that continued and continued and continued - I sang, I read sides (bits of the script, that is), I sang from the show, I read with someone else who was auditioning, I sang again. The accompanist came out for a bathroom break at one point and said in a whisper, "That was great." So it all seemed positive, but I never heard a peep from them. That one didn't faze me, but it did remind me that my sixth sense of how I'm doing is flawed at best. And that you never know what the discussion is like on the other side of the table, and what sorts of things go into a final decision.
So now, we just live our lives. Maybe eat a(nother) cookie or two. Plan dream trips but don't book them.
If I can just keep auditioning like that, it'll all work out eventually.
So, no-lose, right? Win-win? Boy, if only I could feel like this more often, I think I would perform so much more effectively in auditions.
Well, we'll see. My impression of my good impression may be highly rose-tinted, and I know they saw a ton of great people. There's just such a specific energy in a room when you seem to be doing well, when you seem to be giving them what they are looking for. Years ago, I went to a callback and starting singing and the two co-directors looked at each other and nodded slightly and I thought, "Yeah, I just booked this." And I had. But equally, I had a long drawn-out audition a few years ago that continued and continued and continued - I sang, I read sides (bits of the script, that is), I sang from the show, I read with someone else who was auditioning, I sang again. The accompanist came out for a bathroom break at one point and said in a whisper, "That was great." So it all seemed positive, but I never heard a peep from them. That one didn't faze me, but it did remind me that my sixth sense of how I'm doing is flawed at best. And that you never know what the discussion is like on the other side of the table, and what sorts of things go into a final decision.
So now, we just live our lives. Maybe eat a(nother) cookie or two. Plan dream trips but don't book them.
If I can just keep auditioning like that, it'll all work out eventually.
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Right on time...to screw up other plans...
Wow. When stuff starts to happen, it really just doesn't stop happening. Tomorrow I have to teach, go to a callback, rush from there to a voiceover booking, and from there to a commercial audition.
Then I plan to come home and collapse on the couch and watch a movie or something like that. Whew!
The callback is interesting because I walked out of the initial audition at about 4:35 pm, and got an email asking me to a callback at 4:56 pm. I know computers and smart phones and tablets make it easier for folks to make those requests faster, but that's still really fast. (I'm tempted to say "hella fast", but I am old and it sounds ridiculous.)
It's tricky, though, because if I book this job, I have to fudge an offer I made to my Dad, which I would do (and hopefully he would understand) but would feel awkward. (Why is it that projects are never slated for the long long stretches of time in which I have nothing whatsoever planned??)
Still, I haven't been offered the job, so at the moment, there's no conflict and I can bask in the success of being called back. Better, I can bask in the success of having made a Really Good Impression. How do I know that? Because I had that experience again, the one I am happily having more and more often, where I treat myself as a professional with a point of view worth having in the room, and I ask a legitimate artistic question. And today's question was especially genuine/ I always like to have some kind of artistic question on hand, but today's was absolutely necessary - it was a "does this character know x or not at this point in the song?"
There are several reasons this was a great question. One, knowing or not knowing something changes how I sing the song, and by asking, I've implied I have more than one way to approach the song. Two, in asking about this, I have proven I've read the entire play and have some understanding of the arc of this character. Three, I've established that I am thinking about the project as a fellow artist, not as a supplicant for a job.
I think it's three that makes me the happiest, and has been the nicest part of my week. I like acting, the doing of acting, and when I can turn auditions themselves into the doing, into the experience of figuring something out and trying it different ways, then I'm really getting to a new level in terms of my comfort with the craft. NOT that I am mastering the craft - no, no, no. But being comfortable with it as a discipline is far preferrable (for both sides of the table) than being obsessed with whether you get the job or not. I probably won't get this job. But all of those people in that room today work all over the place, and I walked in and showed them I work as well. I think, and I haven't been in enough rooms on the other side of the table to be certain but I'm pretty convinced, that showing up prepared and behaving every minute as if I have something to contribute makes an impression, and I don't think many people do that. I don't always do it. Nerves win often, and wanting work can mess with your presence, and being rejected (especially after auditions that seem to go well) takes its toll.
I did a different audition last night for a team I know well - well enough that they went "hooray!" when I walked in (which was charming and lovely and I felt exactly the same about seeing both of them, hooray indeed). And again, the best part is just being able to concentrate on the work itself, on trying to play with the words and tell the story and react appropriately. That team called me back as well - and again, I could easily not get cast, because they have a ton of great people auditioning, but I also know they understand what I can do, and if they make another choice this time, they would still like to work with me. It just makes the rejection so much easier to handle, knowing you were relaxed and did well and they liked it, they just couldn't choose it this time.
Oof. Now I have to go record 3 voiceover auditions and get read for my 2 auditions tomorrow. I tell you, come late Thursday or, at the latest, Friday afternoon, I am going to lie around on the sofa and NOT MOVE.
Then I plan to come home and collapse on the couch and watch a movie or something like that. Whew!
The callback is interesting because I walked out of the initial audition at about 4:35 pm, and got an email asking me to a callback at 4:56 pm. I know computers and smart phones and tablets make it easier for folks to make those requests faster, but that's still really fast. (I'm tempted to say "hella fast", but I am old and it sounds ridiculous.)
It's tricky, though, because if I book this job, I have to fudge an offer I made to my Dad, which I would do (and hopefully he would understand) but would feel awkward. (Why is it that projects are never slated for the long long stretches of time in which I have nothing whatsoever planned??)
Still, I haven't been offered the job, so at the moment, there's no conflict and I can bask in the success of being called back. Better, I can bask in the success of having made a Really Good Impression. How do I know that? Because I had that experience again, the one I am happily having more and more often, where I treat myself as a professional with a point of view worth having in the room, and I ask a legitimate artistic question. And today's question was especially genuine/ I always like to have some kind of artistic question on hand, but today's was absolutely necessary - it was a "does this character know x or not at this point in the song?"
There are several reasons this was a great question. One, knowing or not knowing something changes how I sing the song, and by asking, I've implied I have more than one way to approach the song. Two, in asking about this, I have proven I've read the entire play and have some understanding of the arc of this character. Three, I've established that I am thinking about the project as a fellow artist, not as a supplicant for a job.
I think it's three that makes me the happiest, and has been the nicest part of my week. I like acting, the doing of acting, and when I can turn auditions themselves into the doing, into the experience of figuring something out and trying it different ways, then I'm really getting to a new level in terms of my comfort with the craft. NOT that I am mastering the craft - no, no, no. But being comfortable with it as a discipline is far preferrable (for both sides of the table) than being obsessed with whether you get the job or not. I probably won't get this job. But all of those people in that room today work all over the place, and I walked in and showed them I work as well. I think, and I haven't been in enough rooms on the other side of the table to be certain but I'm pretty convinced, that showing up prepared and behaving every minute as if I have something to contribute makes an impression, and I don't think many people do that. I don't always do it. Nerves win often, and wanting work can mess with your presence, and being rejected (especially after auditions that seem to go well) takes its toll.
I did a different audition last night for a team I know well - well enough that they went "hooray!" when I walked in (which was charming and lovely and I felt exactly the same about seeing both of them, hooray indeed). And again, the best part is just being able to concentrate on the work itself, on trying to play with the words and tell the story and react appropriately. That team called me back as well - and again, I could easily not get cast, because they have a ton of great people auditioning, but I also know they understand what I can do, and if they make another choice this time, they would still like to work with me. It just makes the rejection so much easier to handle, knowing you were relaxed and did well and they liked it, they just couldn't choose it this time.
Oof. Now I have to go record 3 voiceover auditions and get read for my 2 auditions tomorrow. I tell you, come late Thursday or, at the latest, Friday afternoon, I am going to lie around on the sofa and NOT MOVE.
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Vacation, all I ever wanted
I was on vacation last week, and it was great. I barely touched my computer - in fact, I wouldn't have done so except nothing ever really stops when you're on vacation, and people keep sending you audition info and sides and asking you for work things, even when you just want to go lie down on the beach and stop thinking.
This week has been a rough re-entry. Y'all. Sometimes, even though I know it would drive me completely crazy to actually do this, I want to move home to the South. It's home. Racism and close-mindedness and poverty and all, it's still home, and it has a grandeur and a warmth and a rightness that's hard to deny. It's just...I would go nuts. What would I do, first of all, and how would I keep from going completely insane?
For a long time, I thought there was always the secret back door of academia. That's the place to be, where people think for a living. But as an artist, my recent experience with academia trying to make art was awkward and disappointing. It's art, but it's art without purpose, it's art for the sake of seeing how to make art, and that's just not enough for me. For me, art of any kind needs a use, whether it be usable by two people or millions. The better art is usable by more, I believe, though I'm still road-testing that theory.
I think equally disappointing is the Hollywood version of "art" which gets quotes because I think much of that art is really commerce masquerading as art. A lot of big splashy musicals aren't really "art" - they're entertainment, without question, but it's like consuming empty calories: it will fill you up but it won't give you any nutrients.
Now, to be fair, there is plenty of great art in South Carolina. Some of it is even theatrical. But theatre is on a very small scale, and not the kind of scale you can make a living on even if you've got great luck and are working a lot. There just isn't enough work out there to sustain a working actor. Mathematically, I mean, not philosophically.
So, if I were to move back to the South, I'm pretty sure I would be giving up on everything I love. I might be able to work, but only as a hobby. If there's one thing keeping me going this week after a great vacation, it's that I have two awesome auditions coming up. And had a voiceover and print booking today, so I've even earned money in my chosen profession this week. Since I'm teaching theatre this week, one can even make the argument that all the money I have earned this week is in my chosen profession.
Still, being home makes me wish there were a city in the South - a proper city, with theatres and film studios and voice-over production houses. Until that happens, I guess I'm relegated to visiting when I can.
Or I suppose someday I might get famous enough to live wherever I want and still get the work I want.
HAHAHAHAHA....yeah, maybe that'll happen.
This week has been a rough re-entry. Y'all. Sometimes, even though I know it would drive me completely crazy to actually do this, I want to move home to the South. It's home. Racism and close-mindedness and poverty and all, it's still home, and it has a grandeur and a warmth and a rightness that's hard to deny. It's just...I would go nuts. What would I do, first of all, and how would I keep from going completely insane?
For a long time, I thought there was always the secret back door of academia. That's the place to be, where people think for a living. But as an artist, my recent experience with academia trying to make art was awkward and disappointing. It's art, but it's art without purpose, it's art for the sake of seeing how to make art, and that's just not enough for me. For me, art of any kind needs a use, whether it be usable by two people or millions. The better art is usable by more, I believe, though I'm still road-testing that theory.
I think equally disappointing is the Hollywood version of "art" which gets quotes because I think much of that art is really commerce masquerading as art. A lot of big splashy musicals aren't really "art" - they're entertainment, without question, but it's like consuming empty calories: it will fill you up but it won't give you any nutrients.
Now, to be fair, there is plenty of great art in South Carolina. Some of it is even theatrical. But theatre is on a very small scale, and not the kind of scale you can make a living on even if you've got great luck and are working a lot. There just isn't enough work out there to sustain a working actor. Mathematically, I mean, not philosophically.
So, if I were to move back to the South, I'm pretty sure I would be giving up on everything I love. I might be able to work, but only as a hobby. If there's one thing keeping me going this week after a great vacation, it's that I have two awesome auditions coming up. And had a voiceover and print booking today, so I've even earned money in my chosen profession this week. Since I'm teaching theatre this week, one can even make the argument that all the money I have earned this week is in my chosen profession.
Still, being home makes me wish there were a city in the South - a proper city, with theatres and film studios and voice-over production houses. Until that happens, I guess I'm relegated to visiting when I can.
Or I suppose someday I might get famous enough to live wherever I want and still get the work I want.
HAHAHAHAHA....yeah, maybe that'll happen.
Wednesday, June 05, 2013
Time moving so fast
I feel as if it's been three months since I made a post, time is moving so fast. Everything is happening, all RIGHT NOW, and there's not a moment to stop and write about it. Had a lovely weekend, have finally started going to auditions, and in general I'm scrambling to keep up with everything this week so I can be on vacation next week.
What's happening is either personal and private enough that writing about it in a public forum seems foolish or silly or crass, or it hasn't seemed interesting enough to chronicle.
However, here's something that happened that doesn't fit in either camp.
Recently, I was at a general audition. I looked around and didn't know anyone - and the room was absolutely full of people - crammed full. Most of these people were very young, and at least two things dawned on me. One, I was looking at the newest crop of graduates and new arrivals and freshly anointed actors. Two, the reason I didn't know them is that for the past year and a half, I have been outrageously lucky enough (and it is luck, absolutely) to work with people who are exceptionally experienced, who have the kind of experience I can only dream about, who have longevity in this business. I have been working with professionals, and this was a room full of wannabe professionals.
Another glance showed me that a lot of those wannabe professionals are making what seemed like massive mistakes in how they present themselves.
This has very little to do with talent. I'll bet some of those people can sing me under the table and I guarantee you some of them will be hired by this theatre while I probably won't be. But the way they were dressed! The things they were saying to each other! The songs they were choosing to sing! Some of what I saw seemed so obviously unfortunate. Many, many people were oddly shaped. Now, I don't think shape alters your talent level. (It does sometimes limit your versatility.) But here's the thing - whatever your shape, wear something that flatters you, no matter what the current styles are! No matter what shape you are, some clothes flatter you and others do not. If this is confusing, pay attention to how good costume designers dress you. Copy that. ( I wrote that and realized that's how I was dressed last night, so take that with a grain of salt - I could be wrong. It sounds good, but that doesn't make it true.)
Never mind. Let's take all the appearances out of it. Let's take away my commentary on others and focus on the base level truth. I have been out of the auditioning circuit for too long because I was fortunate enough to be working, but haven't been lucky enough to book the next gig from the handful of auditions I had time for while working. While I was basically put together and focused, I was scared. Scared of not being good enough, scared of not showing what I'm capable of, scared of the fact that inevitably, some of the people on that room will surpass me and have careers like the one I still dream about but haven't yet achieved.
Don't mind my babble. I'm just scared I won't work again, and I love working.
What's happening is either personal and private enough that writing about it in a public forum seems foolish or silly or crass, or it hasn't seemed interesting enough to chronicle.
However, here's something that happened that doesn't fit in either camp.
Recently, I was at a general audition. I looked around and didn't know anyone - and the room was absolutely full of people - crammed full. Most of these people were very young, and at least two things dawned on me. One, I was looking at the newest crop of graduates and new arrivals and freshly anointed actors. Two, the reason I didn't know them is that for the past year and a half, I have been outrageously lucky enough (and it is luck, absolutely) to work with people who are exceptionally experienced, who have the kind of experience I can only dream about, who have longevity in this business. I have been working with professionals, and this was a room full of wannabe professionals.
Another glance showed me that a lot of those wannabe professionals are making what seemed like massive mistakes in how they present themselves.
This has very little to do with talent. I'll bet some of those people can sing me under the table and I guarantee you some of them will be hired by this theatre while I probably won't be. But the way they were dressed! The things they were saying to each other! The songs they were choosing to sing! Some of what I saw seemed so obviously unfortunate. Many, many people were oddly shaped. Now, I don't think shape alters your talent level. (It does sometimes limit your versatility.) But here's the thing - whatever your shape, wear something that flatters you, no matter what the current styles are! No matter what shape you are, some clothes flatter you and others do not. If this is confusing, pay attention to how good costume designers dress you. Copy that. ( I wrote that and realized that's how I was dressed last night, so take that with a grain of salt - I could be wrong. It sounds good, but that doesn't make it true.)
Never mind. Let's take all the appearances out of it. Let's take away my commentary on others and focus on the base level truth. I have been out of the auditioning circuit for too long because I was fortunate enough to be working, but haven't been lucky enough to book the next gig from the handful of auditions I had time for while working. While I was basically put together and focused, I was scared. Scared of not being good enough, scared of not showing what I'm capable of, scared of the fact that inevitably, some of the people on that room will surpass me and have careers like the one I still dream about but haven't yet achieved.
Don't mind my babble. I'm just scared I won't work again, and I love working.
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