Inspiration (or how to learn from your sins)

I haven't written in a while, and I keep beating myself up over it. A lot of us do this; we know what we should do, but don't have the time/desire/energy to complete the task/chore/dream, and end up being THE detriment to our own confidence and success. Womp-womp. 

So, here I am: facing my fear of having nothing to say; of not writing it correctly; of it actually having an effect. Fear is almost never logical, and always disguised. I wear a suit of martyrdom for being too busy, overworked, and emotionally stressed out. Yes, reasons for inactivity will be forever present, but I won't be, and there is unmatchable merit in working so hard you can't even think about how scared you are. 

My motivation was reignited after Trevor Kluckman, who starred in my production of Seminar, invited me to attend his fundraiser last week for The Animus Theatre Company, a thriving company composed of passionate artists and inventive collaborators. Headed creatively by Artistic Director, Jonathan Judge-Russo, Animus treated its supporters to an all-day series of staged readings of Leslye Headland's Sin Cycle of plays at Circle in the Square. I was inspired to start writing again.

Among the sea of red chairs was a woman bursting with excitable energy, fervently chatting with her enthusiastic friends. I interjected to share my mutual love of witty farce 30 Rock, and I soon discovered that there was a reason for this magnetic energy; she was Leslye Headland. Even though I didn't know her work yet, Leslye embodied her identity with such a contagious and delightful force, that I was instantly infected, and eagerly awaited her words to hit my ears and heart. 

A simple row of chairs and music stands, I was fortunate to catch four of the six Sin Cycle staged readings craftily directed on Monday: Cinephilia (lust), Assistance (greed), Bachelorette (gluttony), and Surfer Girl (sloth); the last of which was expertly performed by Leslye Headland herself, proving her awe-inspiring prowess as a fully rounded artist. She was undeniably matched by the Animus members' professional work ethic, contagious energy, and driven talent.

It was immediately clear the actors would easily fill the space, Leslye's words needed no set, and that I was about to face sins I readily recognize, and shamefully hide. Each play was its own world, and separately revealed humanity's worst traits. However, I was delightfully surprised by how experiencing these sins in a truthful, raw way revealed them as gifts of wisdom. Leslye taught me you learn from what you are trying to escape (fear), and most of the time, what you are trying to escape is YOU!

Leslye is proof that what makes you different, makes you special, and that shame and regret aren't suffering's only residuals. Embracing the fear of what you know to be true is painful, but you must first be honest with yourself, to then be truthful to the world! In fact, through Leslye's honest work, and life-changing talkback, I realized I became an artist during my lowest point, when I felt most sinful. The sobering truth of our existence diminished my life-long capacity to dream, but after years of sinfully resting where dreams die, I have an urgency to dream again!

Sharing my understanding of humanity through my perfectly flawed lens of the world, just like Leslye so bravely does, is my new goal. This is only a layer of my aspirations; I am regaining the ability to dream and I am finally starting to make it happen. Become your own catalyst, face your true self, and GO OUTSIDE. 

Catalyst You

A few weeks ago, I wrote about how to put up your own work, inspired by my desire to direct again.  As soon as I found a play that moved me (and was right for the space), I submitted a play proposal resulting in wonderful news: I was granted free space to direct a play this Summer! Even better news-it's a NEW play co-written by my friends, which means an ever-evolving play that will be a complete labor of love. Stimulation like this can only have positive reverberations, the best of which is that I officially started writing my first play! 

Now that the formalities of 'how I got myself back on track' are over, I can get to the meat of why I'm writing this: my progress is made up of catalysts that came as a result of my desire to make things happen for myself because no one else was-regardless of my effort. A catalyst (stimulant, impulse, energy), incentivizes you to take bigger chances, leads you to meet the right people, gets the creative juices flowing, and grows the confidence necessary to succeed. 

YOU ARE YOUR OWN CATALYST; YOU HAVE TO BE. 

Some turn down projects because they feel they are too experienced; others unknowingly choose ventures that offer no career or connection advancement. Rejection and stagnation stifle creativity, motivation, and confidence. With so many variables, it can be difficult to stay busy, or worse: you(me) become reluctant to put your self and ideas out into the world. Subsequently, a state of temporary or long-term stasis follows, in which you hope, err, expect, try, wait, audition, go back, learn, grow, misstep, reconnect, meet, live, do. 

Regardless of your poison, the best catalyst to get out of the haze is YOU. You must create movement to expect/wait/hope for a reactionary response. You must do. 

• Open-Mic Nights/Salons and open performance forums
• Go back to school (higher learning or as an alum)
• Expand your training and knowledge; every new skill is a catalyst 
• Create: art, memories, music, stories, community, experiences, film, words, relationships, theater, moments
• Share ideas and created work with fellow peers & collaborators; you may share the same goals 
• Social Media: updates and buzz for your connections 

Think of your biggest fear and just throw catalysts around until you either no longer want it or are no longer afraid. 

No more fear.

Facing Your Theater Fears

Last night I had an informal reading for a play I am in the process of directing.  I asked a few of my friends, colleagues, former teachers and directors, and even my boyfriend to be a part of the private reading. It was the most supportive room I've been in since NYU and it was a beautiful reprieve from the dose that real life is. After a fair reading of the play, it became clear to me that everyone felt what I most feared and already knew: the play isn't ready for performance. This led to a conversation on how it can be better and why I was attracted to it...which then led to a conversation about my own personal connection with the play, which THEN led to all of them suggesting I write my own story and turn it into a play. Eep! 

I must confess that I am absolutely terrified of writing a brand new play. I never took a playwrighting class and I've never written dialogue! This fear, however, also becomes defiance. Defiance against myself and what I think my limits are. How can you know until you try? I pose this question to all of you: how can you know if you can act, direct, dance, paint, produce, mime, write, play, or sing if you do not try? I realized last night that theater is exciting to me for many reasons, the greatest being this: the more I delve into the theater world, the more scared I am and the more gratifying the end result turns out to be. I was apprehensive about having the reading because I felt the play was not ready. Facing this fear led to an enlightening conversation about the play, which then transformed into an endless (and happily unexpected) outpouring of support and encouragement to try playwrighting because of my personal, engaging story and ability. Having other people believe in me-before I can even start to believe in myself-definitely catapulted my confidence into a stratosphere it hasn't seen since college. So, I'm going to write a play. 

I use my experience as a case study in what can happen when you jump and GO GET IT. I let fear run my life for 3 years after getting my BFA (or Biffa, as I lovingly call it), and I've never been so miserable. I am finally getting up (after falling...HARD) and facing my fears, fears I didn't even know I had, and am now reaping the glorious benefits. Fear of the unknown, of failing, of falling, of exposing yourself, of limits, of comparison, of being wrong, of succeeding, of even trying. All valid, none real. Knowing is truly better than not, especially for over-analytical theater majors (we know who we are) and our sanity. You fall, but boy, do you get up a more rounded, experienced, and motivated individual. So, jump! We'll be here to catch you and then we can all share stories of failures and triumphs. After all, what is a good, lived life but a series of ups and downs?