Today, on page 80 of the June 2011 edition of Essence Magazine, I read a sentence and thought of you.
“If he doesn’t call, he’s not interested. Period.”
The immediate, invisible line connecting that one sentence to thoughts of you brought up feelings of anger.
And after a while, the initial steps towards clarity.
Akin to spending a few minutes standing in a dark cave and suddenly realizing that I had a flashlight in my backpack, I chose to take charge of my situation by turning on the light. And I found that the steadier I focused the light, and focused my attention on the light’s path, the clearer I could see that which stood before me.
The temptation to be angry is there and might always be there, but just beyond that is the clarity that you had/have every right to decide whether or not you wanted to be in my life.
And because I am also a strong believer that the Universe is on my side and that everyone and everything that should be in my life will be, I can see the pool of light widening.
I am exactly where I am supposed to be, and it just so happens to be without you in my life. And that is obviously not a bad thing. After all, why have someone in one’s life that doesn’t want to be there?
Another sentence just came into my mind. I honestly think it’s a bit more light from my buddy the Universe. Funny enough, it’s from Notes from the Universe: "Whenever something doesn't work out the way you thought it would, instead of thinking that something went wrong, see it as something that went unexpectedly well, but for reasons that are not yet apparent. Everything plays to your favor."
That makes me smile.
And it’s just the right amount of clarity to help me make my way out the Cave and into the daylight.
The sun feels good on my face.
Thank goodness I’m already wearing sunscreen.
Thank you Universe!
Monday, June 27, 2011
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Audition Results
Sunday, June 12th, I returned from the 8AM mass to find an email in my inbox.
“Oh dear God” I thought as I looked at the sender information. It was from the Director of TTONO.
As I sat there looking at the computer screen, the pit of my stomach already experiencing the initial symptoms of dread, I contemplated waiting till a latter point in time to peruse its contents. You see, ever since I left the audition room the day before, my thoughts had been consumed with playing Back to the Future in numerous attempts to “correct” my final read.
Prior to the audition, my goal was to feel great about the work that I did in the room. The way I saw it, if I felt great about my audition, it wouldn’t matter whether I was cast or not. But now that I did not feel great about the last thing I did before exiting the room, I wasn’t sure I was ready to deal with whatever was written in this yet to be opened email.
After reasoning with myself that I was only prolonging the inevitable, I clicked on the screen and braced myself for its contents. Quickly, my eyes scanned the length of the email and for some unclear reason, just the fact that it was about five or six lines short was confirmation enough that I didn’t get the part.
Then I read the email.
And then I looked away from the screen.
Several moments passed as I sat looking up at the Heavens. There were no thoughts in my head, just an intense feeling of… surprise. They had offered me the role.
Somewhat dazed, I gave thanks to God and the Angels—particularly Archangel Gabriel who I recently learned was the Angelic Ambassador of Communication, Artists/Creative Expression whom I had especially sought out prior to the audition.
I then said out loud, "I didn't expect this." As if my metaphysical friends needed me to verbalize the reason for the still lingering feeling of surprise. After all, they were metaphysical—it’s not as if they couldn’t read my mind.
But maybe saying it out loud wasn’t for their benefit. Maybe it was for mine. Maybe it was a way to explain to my dumbfounded self why I was so…dumbfounded.
And then I thought maybe I had read the email wrong.
And then I thought, “Wouldn't it be sad if I had read the email wrong?”
So once again I looked back at the screen and this time slowly reread the contents.
And then I said, "F*@k!"
“Oh dear God” I thought as I looked at the sender information. It was from the Director of TTONO.
As I sat there looking at the computer screen, the pit of my stomach already experiencing the initial symptoms of dread, I contemplated waiting till a latter point in time to peruse its contents. You see, ever since I left the audition room the day before, my thoughts had been consumed with playing Back to the Future in numerous attempts to “correct” my final read.
Prior to the audition, my goal was to feel great about the work that I did in the room. The way I saw it, if I felt great about my audition, it wouldn’t matter whether I was cast or not. But now that I did not feel great about the last thing I did before exiting the room, I wasn’t sure I was ready to deal with whatever was written in this yet to be opened email.
After reasoning with myself that I was only prolonging the inevitable, I clicked on the screen and braced myself for its contents. Quickly, my eyes scanned the length of the email and for some unclear reason, just the fact that it was about five or six lines short was confirmation enough that I didn’t get the part.
Then I read the email.
And then I looked away from the screen.
Several moments passed as I sat looking up at the Heavens. There were no thoughts in my head, just an intense feeling of… surprise. They had offered me the role.
Somewhat dazed, I gave thanks to God and the Angels—particularly Archangel Gabriel who I recently learned was the Angelic Ambassador of Communication, Artists/Creative Expression whom I had especially sought out prior to the audition.
I then said out loud, "I didn't expect this." As if my metaphysical friends needed me to verbalize the reason for the still lingering feeling of surprise. After all, they were metaphysical—it’s not as if they couldn’t read my mind.
But maybe saying it out loud wasn’t for their benefit. Maybe it was for mine. Maybe it was a way to explain to my dumbfounded self why I was so…dumbfounded.
And then I thought maybe I had read the email wrong.
And then I thought, “Wouldn't it be sad if I had read the email wrong?”
So once again I looked back at the screen and this time slowly reread the contents.
And then I said, "F*@k!"
Audition
Last Saturday, I had an audition.
A week prior to said audition, I received an email from the Director that included the audition side and full script with a short note asking if I was able to come in to be seen for it. I had worked with her before and was excited at the prospects of working with her again, so I immediately said yes. And then, I read the script. And then I became nervous.
It was a great script-- very interesting, with colorful characters and equally colorful language. My nerves kicked in because, at one point, the character I was auditioning for initiates seducing another character. Fear crept in because in real life I don’t fancy myself as seduction-initiating-inclined. I guess “excitement” could have been a plausible reaction, but, honestly, in that moment, it was purely fear.
But thankfully (I thought at the time), the scene I was asked to prepare seemed simple enough. It was several lines preceding the seduction section and did not appear as a lead in to a seduction. The exchange was also surprisingly quite short. In fact it was so short that mid-week I sent the Director an email asking if I had all the necessary pages. She wrote back confirming the length of the side and added that although it was short “it was full of subtext.”
I did my acting homework and came up with an objective and plausible approaches to my lines. I then emailed my thoughts (as she was out of town for the week) to a trusted friend, who also happens to be a very talented actress. We’ve met up numerous times in the past to help each other prepare for auditions. She wrote back commending my prep work and encouraged me to remember to play and be in the moment during the audition. I then met up with another friend and from that was born a completely different take on the mini side. Once more I emailed my out of town friend and she encouraged me to feel out both approaches and again stay connected in the moment.
On the day of the audition, embracing the “better safe than sorry,” adage, I arrived at the building about an hour and a half early. I tend to get to places early. I like being early. But as I was quite early, I came up with a game plan. Since my audition was on the 4th floor of the building, I decided to hang out in the spacious and somewhat swank bathroom on the 3rd floor until about 30 minutes before my appointment time.
Just as the 30 minute mark was approaching and I began to make my exit, the bathroom door opened (at the same time as I was exiting the stall) and I came face to face with a dear friend of mine. Of all the days, of all the buildings in the city, and of all the bathrooms in this building, she chose to walk into mine. We had a good laugh over that. And then after trading playful barbs (we have that kind of friendship), we hugged goodbye and parted ways. She had recently acquired a new job and so went off to finish her work shift downstairs and I headed upstairs to my audition.
Up on the 4th floor, I located the audition room and while awaiting my turn, filled out the required Info/Conflict Sheet. At one point the Director came out and said hello to those of us waiting and then went back into the room. Around 5:40 I decided to make a quick trip to the bathroom. Of course when I came out, I saw the Director looking for someone and knew instantly my time had come.
Escorting me into the room, I was introduced to the five other occupants, one of whom was the reader. I made eye contact, said hello to everyone and after exchanging pleasantries, got down to business.
I sat on a chair and did the scene the first time through. It was a simple enough, straightforward first attempt in front of a live studio audience. The Director then asked me to approach the second read basically flirting with the other character. I was to keep in mind that my character had been out of the dating scene for some time but she thinks her methods are still on pointe. She believes this will be quite easy for her but then realizes as the scene unfolds that the other character is slow on the uptake and therefore must now work harder than she initially intended. (This is what she had meant by there being a lot of subtext taking place in the short audition side—these actions played against the lines on the page.) I took the direction and the second time around got some nice laughs from around the room. Then she asked me to get up and keeping in mind her last direction, use the room and add the fact that my character cannot stand the man she’s trying to flirt with. I basically drew a blank. I got up and did the scene but managed to not incorporate anything she said. As I was doing it I felt like a wet noodle. And of course, there were no laughs. Afterwards, she thanked me, I thanked everyone and then exited stage right.
When I got outside, I realized all the things I could have tried out in the room—ways that I could have used the space to play and flirt, etc. Since we had worked together before and since I felt comfortable with her, before I got on the subway, I was inspired to send her the following text: “Thanks for seeing me for this…Of course as soon as I left the room I had all these ideas I could have tried in the stand up version. Ah well, and so it goes. Thanks again Lady.”
A short while later she responded with: “So good to see you too. I’ll let you know! I literally wrote next to your name, ‘amazing.’
I thought that was kind of her. And then I thought, I wished I had felt amazing about my final read.
I called my best friend and sent a text to my out of town friend saying I blew the audition. They each responded that I was probably being too hard on myself and that I should just wait and see, etc. The thing is I went into that room with certain expectations of myself: I wanted to feel good about the work that I did so that whether or not I was cast, I could still be proud of my efforts. The fact that the last read felt so flat and didn’t elicit any laughs was all the proof I needed to arrive at the conclusion that I didn’t accomplish what I set out to do. It wasn’t even about wanting to be cast in the role—I just wanted to feel good about the work that I presented.
Also, I felt I wanted to work with the playwright at some point. Before I had read the script, I googled his name, read a few blogs on his website and found myself moved by some of the pieces. At the time, I literally put out into the Universe that I wanted to work with him on something that made my soul sing. And after that audition, I felt I was now even much further away from realizing that goal.
A week prior to said audition, I received an email from the Director that included the audition side and full script with a short note asking if I was able to come in to be seen for it. I had worked with her before and was excited at the prospects of working with her again, so I immediately said yes. And then, I read the script. And then I became nervous.
It was a great script-- very interesting, with colorful characters and equally colorful language. My nerves kicked in because, at one point, the character I was auditioning for initiates seducing another character. Fear crept in because in real life I don’t fancy myself as seduction-initiating-inclined. I guess “excitement” could have been a plausible reaction, but, honestly, in that moment, it was purely fear.
But thankfully (I thought at the time), the scene I was asked to prepare seemed simple enough. It was several lines preceding the seduction section and did not appear as a lead in to a seduction. The exchange was also surprisingly quite short. In fact it was so short that mid-week I sent the Director an email asking if I had all the necessary pages. She wrote back confirming the length of the side and added that although it was short “it was full of subtext.”
I did my acting homework and came up with an objective and plausible approaches to my lines. I then emailed my thoughts (as she was out of town for the week) to a trusted friend, who also happens to be a very talented actress. We’ve met up numerous times in the past to help each other prepare for auditions. She wrote back commending my prep work and encouraged me to remember to play and be in the moment during the audition. I then met up with another friend and from that was born a completely different take on the mini side. Once more I emailed my out of town friend and she encouraged me to feel out both approaches and again stay connected in the moment.
On the day of the audition, embracing the “better safe than sorry,” adage, I arrived at the building about an hour and a half early. I tend to get to places early. I like being early. But as I was quite early, I came up with a game plan. Since my audition was on the 4th floor of the building, I decided to hang out in the spacious and somewhat swank bathroom on the 3rd floor until about 30 minutes before my appointment time.
Just as the 30 minute mark was approaching and I began to make my exit, the bathroom door opened (at the same time as I was exiting the stall) and I came face to face with a dear friend of mine. Of all the days, of all the buildings in the city, and of all the bathrooms in this building, she chose to walk into mine. We had a good laugh over that. And then after trading playful barbs (we have that kind of friendship), we hugged goodbye and parted ways. She had recently acquired a new job and so went off to finish her work shift downstairs and I headed upstairs to my audition.
Up on the 4th floor, I located the audition room and while awaiting my turn, filled out the required Info/Conflict Sheet. At one point the Director came out and said hello to those of us waiting and then went back into the room. Around 5:40 I decided to make a quick trip to the bathroom. Of course when I came out, I saw the Director looking for someone and knew instantly my time had come.
Escorting me into the room, I was introduced to the five other occupants, one of whom was the reader. I made eye contact, said hello to everyone and after exchanging pleasantries, got down to business.
I sat on a chair and did the scene the first time through. It was a simple enough, straightforward first attempt in front of a live studio audience. The Director then asked me to approach the second read basically flirting with the other character. I was to keep in mind that my character had been out of the dating scene for some time but she thinks her methods are still on pointe. She believes this will be quite easy for her but then realizes as the scene unfolds that the other character is slow on the uptake and therefore must now work harder than she initially intended. (This is what she had meant by there being a lot of subtext taking place in the short audition side—these actions played against the lines on the page.) I took the direction and the second time around got some nice laughs from around the room. Then she asked me to get up and keeping in mind her last direction, use the room and add the fact that my character cannot stand the man she’s trying to flirt with. I basically drew a blank. I got up and did the scene but managed to not incorporate anything she said. As I was doing it I felt like a wet noodle. And of course, there were no laughs. Afterwards, she thanked me, I thanked everyone and then exited stage right.
When I got outside, I realized all the things I could have tried out in the room—ways that I could have used the space to play and flirt, etc. Since we had worked together before and since I felt comfortable with her, before I got on the subway, I was inspired to send her the following text: “Thanks for seeing me for this…Of course as soon as I left the room I had all these ideas I could have tried in the stand up version. Ah well, and so it goes. Thanks again Lady.”
A short while later she responded with: “So good to see you too. I’ll let you know! I literally wrote next to your name, ‘amazing.’
I thought that was kind of her. And then I thought, I wished I had felt amazing about my final read.
I called my best friend and sent a text to my out of town friend saying I blew the audition. They each responded that I was probably being too hard on myself and that I should just wait and see, etc. The thing is I went into that room with certain expectations of myself: I wanted to feel good about the work that I did so that whether or not I was cast, I could still be proud of my efforts. The fact that the last read felt so flat and didn’t elicit any laughs was all the proof I needed to arrive at the conclusion that I didn’t accomplish what I set out to do. It wasn’t even about wanting to be cast in the role—I just wanted to feel good about the work that I presented.
Also, I felt I wanted to work with the playwright at some point. Before I had read the script, I googled his name, read a few blogs on his website and found myself moved by some of the pieces. At the time, I literally put out into the Universe that I wanted to work with him on something that made my soul sing. And after that audition, I felt I was now even much further away from realizing that goal.
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