Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Get Real.

Blogger lets you see what posts are being read, how many times, and where in the world the reader is (HELLO! Those of you in Poland, Germany & Israel...whoever you are!). This morning, I saw that someone had read “Pulling a Carmen,” my first blog-a-day in November of 2011. I haven’t stuck with it daily, but fairly enough.

Amazingly, a) it’s the same things I talk about now (wanting to act and perform; letting myself be in a relationship; owning my dreams), but b) it also shows me where things have changed: I have been a bass player in a band – I certainly wasn’t in Winter of 2011 when I wrote that; I wasn’t until Spring of 2013.

In that blog, I write that my relationship with others is reflected in my relationship with myself: how am I not committed to myself and my goals? And here I am present-day, whittling down my goals to only theater, finally. 

This week, I wrote the lead singer in the band I play bass in that I can’t be in the band anymore. It’s sad, but I know it’s ultimately for the best. It’s a pruning game—like a bonsai. Or fichus. (cuz who doesn’t love the word fichus). And I think it will ultimately help me in my attempts to focus on and even achieve anything at theater.

I write about all the same things that I write about now, but I do think I’m at a different place with them. I mean, I guess I write about the same things all the time: relationships, healing, self-care, self-derision, past experience, authenticity, perseverance.

Perseverance. I’ve written a bunch about that before, but without one goal to head toward, the whole thing becomes dispersed, scattered, and ineffectual.

Yesterday, I put down a deposit for real headshots.

The friends I’ve had who’ve helped me out over the years produced incredible photos, artistic, fun, and fun to shoot—but they’re not “acting headshots.” And there just is an industry standard. I’ve been trying to get the name of someone from an actor friend of mine, but her voicemails are all garbled, and somehow it hasn’t been working.

Enter Yelp. Yesterday after some searching and clicking and emailing, I sent half of the $350 fee to this woman in Berkeley.

Later that day, I got emails back from my other inquiries, friends, who would be willing to do a much reduced rate, or photos in exchange for babysitting.

I cursed myself (mildly) for being so impetuous and imprudent, for not being patient and thereby “wasting” money.

And then, I looked at these friends’ websites, and I said, ya know, it’s worth it.

As Maybelline says, I’m worth it. (or is it clarol?)

Because, after hm, 3 years of headshots that I felt either okay, or less than okay about (fine photos though they were), I've been being prudent and cutting corners and trying alternatives--It’s time to put my money where my mouth is. And I mouth about being an actress.

Does this mean I’m suddenly an actress? No. Does it mean that I’m taking myself seriously enough to invest in myself? Yes. Does it mean that I can focus more on what I’m showing the auditors rather than what I’ve handed them, or emailed them? YES.

Because it IS my calling card, my first impression. And if I want to be a professional, I get professional help. If I want this to be real, then I get real.

I could look at that first blog and laugh/lament that I’m talking and writing and working on the same damned things 3 years later. And a little bit, I do. But I also recognize that big things have shifted since then, too. I’m glad to have this kind of record to mark my progress. Even when progress looks circuitous and labyrinthine.

The last line in that first blog is that maybe there’s a tall attractive employed funny Jewboy who is looking for a “writer/singer/actress…bass player.” At the time I wrote that, "bass player" was only a vague hope and notion, a funny, last second, "doorknob comment" throw-away, because you shouldn't really know that it's important to me. Today, I get to own that mantle. I am a bass player. I play bass, I’ve been in a band. And I am now hoping to own the mantle of actress.

If you glue it, they will come. 

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