late night writing
(not that late)
(is it even night?)
(damn daylight savings)
(at least i am writing)
~~~
what if
i let myself
really
trust
in the universe
and let
the rest
go?
~~~
there is an adage
in auditioning
in acting in general
to ‘find the love’
in any scene
if it seems
about money
or revenge
or procedure
or humor
or anything
or nothing
something
to make it
more interesting
more alive
find
the love
in life
in living
in the universe
find
the love
i can do it
i can reach out
i can cold call
and cold email
and cold submit
because i won’t learn
what i’m doing ‘wrong’
until i at least
put myself out there
and try
manifesting
without the grind
where do you find
roles
without playing the game?
[ah, yes, you write them]
riding that high
back to stage
i can sing
i can engage an audience
i can act through a song
i can do riffs and runs (?maybe?)
i can do all the things
i am talented
i am hardworking
i can do it
i can do it
i can do it
i am good enough
i am enough
let this be a reminder
to my future self
who does’t believe
in me
i heard an acting coach say, once,
that her actors and their problems
could be pretty precisely divided up
into two distinct groups:
those who did all the homework, and needed to stop thinking so hard,
and those who weren’t coming in with the work done, and needed to put forth
more effort
i feel like i fall into both categories,
no matter how split she thought them;
i overthink and overanalyze and over worry
and yet, i feel like i never actually finish my basic homework,
and i come in with the feeling of flying by the seat of my pants
every chance
i get.
maybe i am in the first group
and my problem is
even while i’m not doing work
(and therefore think i’m in the second group)
i am still worry-working
and spending a whole ton of mental energy
as if i were in the first group
and that makes my general vibe
an over-thinker
over worker
over do-er
so where does that leave me now?
chasing that feeling
of being in the moment
when the moment is all
made up
a tale of an actor coming out of dissociation
yesterday was a
good(?!?)
day
chores accomplished
things done
(ahead of time even)
friends talked to
(friends!
what a concept!)
and i hope
that this energy
positivity
whatever-y
lasts
just a few days longer
because man, i have so many things on my to-do list
that are just waiting for a day
when i feel like i have the mental stamina
to do them.
~~~
toaster strudels
toasted
iced
eaten
bagels
ordered
made
still waiting
for delivery
(to house and to mouth)
do we need two different breakfasts this morning?
absolutely not.
but do we deserve them?
i’d say…
maybe?
~~~
being an actor is so weird
because not only are we
sharing intimate parts of
our selves/emotions/brains/pasts
and saying ‘hey, do you believe this
in a totally different context?’
we are also airing all our dirty laundry
out
for others’ entertainment
and hoping it’s cathartic
to both audience and us
(while still holding a piece
within our toolbox
just in case
we need it
again)
all the while,
those of us who have gone to school
for this
weirdness
have literally been graded
on things that
can be quite subjective
and we all just kind of had to
admit it
and accept it
and be graded
on our souls
(while being so young
we probably weren’t even connected
with the fullness
of those souls
quite yet)
(i know i, now, ten years later,
could still be more connected,
for my self and for my art.)
we are now
well into
the third year
of living in new york city
and though i’m not where i thought i’d be,
the whole world isn’t where it thought it’d be
either.
the pandemic has really taken the onus
off my own head
for what i wanted to accomplish
when i got here,
and redirected my aims
not lower
just sideways-er,
from theatre/circus/maybe film
to voiceover/film/maybe circus
(and a little activism in there
because how could you not be
when looking at
this world)
and theatre…?
who knows what will happen
within this third year
(within these next few months/weeks/days)
but i do know that
governmental policies (or lack thereof) really left the public
out in the cold
at the very beginning
of this whole ordeal
and haven’t been able to rectify
that harm
(nor have i seen much in the way of trying)
and i shouldn’t have expected any better
but man
do i want
to trust
that people
will do the right things,
but power seems to corrupt
even the
best of us…
but
i was talking about
living in new york city
and my life here
(or lack thereof)
and all i have to say is,
though i don’t think i ever really got
the ‘true’
living in nyc experience,
i still suspect
i couldn’t live
anywhere
else.
i didn’t think that
being on a stage
would make me emotional
(and to be fair,
it didn’t make me
cry
or
giggle
or elate
or spiritualize
or anything like that)
but seeing
rows
upon rows
of seats
(though empty)
from center stage
brought me a sense of
calmness
that i haven’t felt in
literal
years.
there are so many facets of myself
that i wish were truly true
i want to be the tragic ending,
the too good for this world
the died much too young,
and i want to be the puck
the trickster
the bringer of chaos and of all unknowns,
and i want to live long long long,
and i want to be arson
and i want to be fairy
and i want to be cryptid
and i want to be house spouse
and i want to be parent
and i want to be cool aunt/uncle
and i want to be chestless
and i want to float between and above and around and absent and outside of…
but if i’m to believe Rain, what we do is truly part of us,
so does that extend to the wants as well?
kipventures 