Shaking the pressure under grace

I had a rehearsal today with an actor who is quite good for being a new actor.

That is to say that he’s been at it for three years.

He left a very successful career making six figures a year to become poor and be an actor with no prior training or experience.

And he’s done quite well for himself. He’s had a couple reoccurring roles on soaps as well as a few other principals on cable and a small part in a movie for HBO that he deemed “not very good.”

All without an agent.

Needless to say, I was impressed.  In describing his resume (which I’d tactfully inquired about), I realized that he’s almost surpassed what has taken me almost a lifetime to achieve.

Of course, he wasn’t as good as me.

Don’t misunderstand. I’m not being boastful, just honest.  Though I still sell youth, I’m an old dog.  I’ve been at this since before I could understand it.  When it was just fun and no achievement at it meant anything.   I’ve spent hundreds of hours studying and reading and being with auditions and performance.  I now have a technique and an emotional body to draw from.  I have a technical way of working which I think will probably elude him until time and study gives him that.

But as we went over our scene, I was impressed with his freshness. How he got better quickly and how what he did came naturally without technique.

And how he came at the whole game with a great deal of confidence.

I was reminded how that is my biggest roadblock.

“Trust yourself” one of my agents said the other day when I was surprised at her complimenting my read for a recent audition I’d put on tape and deemed not very good due to my nerves.

Some part of me doesn’t trust myself enough when it matters.   For the big whigs : )

I don’t feel fully welcome at the party and so I arrive nervous and already apologizing for my attire.

When in fact if I fully wore whatever I came in – having carefully selected my party dress and the speech to say with it – I just might find myself the belle of the ball.  After all, I didn’t crash the party.  I was invited.

There is the acting and then there is the aura that one wears when one shows up.

That grace under pressure that can never be acted.

But rather, just exists in a bright young thing.   OR –  can be rediscovered by an old dog (who’s not that old, just a little tired) who is finally starting to remember and live what it is to be fresh.

An actress cannot be anonymous

Hi.  I’ve been wanting to write a blog for a year now.  to share me with you.  to share a sense of what it is like to blindly navigate the machine called fame.  and yet – all the blogs I’ve looked at of actresses (save for one anonymous one called Cranky Actress), just seemed so – I don’t know – trivial.

who cares about a bunch of unknown maybe talentless young needies, right?  And if I can’t care about all these other’s, how can I expect others to care about mine?  Cranky Actress, the one exception worked, I think, because she left an element of mystery.  And in that mystery even a touch of universality.  i wanted to know who she was.  but I couldn’t : ) AND she was funny.  and smart.  that’s key folks.

By being anonymous I don’t have to fear offending or being too nice or pc or anything.  I can say whatever I want.  And I won’t get a stalker (at least not one who will recognize me)  ; )

since I will not permit you to see my face, what can I tell you?

I work.  not with the regularity that I would like – but suffice it to say that I get the (very) occasional fan letter.  I’ve been on all three of the former major networks.  if I google myself well over 10,000 hits come up (as opposed to 28 million for Angelina Jolie or 190 for my husband who, though a writer, is not yet trying to be famous).  I was a regular on a network show this summer.  I started acting when I was seven.  I’ve been in NY and had an agent for seven years now.  I don’t have kids I have dogs.  I’m spiritual but not religious.  I go to the ocean to find peace.  I am happiest when I am playing someone else.

i get nervous in auditions.  in fact as much as I wish for my phone to ring, the minute a big audition comes in it fills me with dread.  I get his distinct unbreathable knot in the center of of my chest and it doesn’t let go.

I attribute this to a need – an intense need – to be someone.  right now, as an unemployed, former waitress who doesn’t book with enough regularity, it is easy to feel like I am not really someone that matters.  I know I am not alone.

sometimes I am able to combat this with yoga.  or running.  or the recent read of something enlightening like Eckhart Tolle’s A New Earth.  writing my own material and working on my own projects helps.  sometimes, not so much.

this year I have made some noted progress in the way of unwanted nerves.  my goal for this coming year is to actually find the joy in auditioning.  in not getting the job.  in just doing it.  for when I don’t care whether I really get the job or not I really really do shine.

I want to strive to always find the play.

in life I work to be known by the world.  not because I want to be famous but because I want to work.  and in our celebrity driven culture it is a lot easier to work if you first have fame.

here, in this spot, I will work to be known only for my thoughts, and what I might have to offer in the way of advice or sharing with you.  how pretty or not or perky or not or talented or not or nervous or not I am will not matter.  only the work and the words.

I will tell you about my auditions.  the people I meet.  my leads.  my failures. the jobs I get.  the ones I don’t.  the suckiness of working in an industry where sex sells and youth sells and having a husband that’s not in the business is akin to “just not wanting it enough.” But, also – the beauty of how having a husband (in addition to loads of wonderful things) cuts through a hell of a lot of bullshit on the way up.

You will watch me become.  and if I am lucky, I will find beauty, peace, and joy in the anonymous connection of you.