~ I have become accustomed to the unending habit of starting a project and not following through. It doesn't happen all the time but...
I have several posts I was going to write but saved for a raining day. And though the sun is shining bright, that rainy day is here. I really have no excuse except being lazy. So please accept my apologies. ~
I've recently been working on a show case (which I like to describe as a recital for actors) that will hopefully bring in talent agencies to come see us and maybe sign us. I don't know what to expect and I'm working with a very uh… eclectic, group. There are some extremely talented actors and then there are some... well... Hollywood actors. Then there’s the theater itself which is a story of its own.
Allow me to paint the scene of a typical day:
Every day around five we convene for rehearsal on the second floor of a strip mall. Walking up the stairs one might see a man with a trench coat rocking ever so slightly staring at a point on some plain only he can see. As you pass him you may see his hand reach into his pocket as he stops you and asks if you like to purchase what he's holding. Now as a child warnings from parents and stories from friends should have prepared you for this moment. You should say no and walk away keeping your eyes up and away.
But despite yourself you look anyway and see what you never expected, a live bunny pulled from the depths of this coat. Satisfied that not all stories about the big bad city are true, you think how adorable this little rabbit is. Then reality hits you and you express your regret and several reasons why you can't buy the critter, listing things like money and landlord issues.
You climb the steps, still saying how you wish you could but can’t today, and the man slowly returns the small bunny to the crevices of his coat.
As you enter the theater you are met with three columns of small park benches that serve as audience seating facing a raised black box stage covered in several "actor boxes." On the walls are old movie posters featuring films like Citizen Kane. You may mention the encounter with bunny man to your director who sits on an actor box on the raised stage. With an air of familiarity he will explain to you that the man actually gets these bunnies from Korea town where they're sold for other reasons than pets. So in a way he's saving the bunnies from going to lunch at Dim Sum against their will. The director may also say, "I've bought one bunny. And I now own three. So don't buy one if you honestly can't take care of it."
As rehearsal begins the director will converse about recent movie releases and discussion arises about the auditions we've all been on. One actor, of no notable reference, may suddenly and proudly express that he "had an audition for a sitcom today." Interested, with a twinge of slight jealousy, you sit up and ask what the sitcom was about. To which this actor will reply, "Human Trafficking."
Now as you sit in stunned silence several of your fellow actors may protest exactly what you can't quite formulate. Things like "How is that a sit com?" or "That can’t possibly be a comedy!"
As the barrage of questions lightens this particular 'actor' may say "Oh well maybe it wasn't a sit com... but it was for a documentary."
You may just hate being there at that moment and wonder why your four year degree has led you to meet a person like this.
As you're sent out to rehearse with your fellow actors one of your partners, twenty some-odd years your senior, may just sing his lines as you rehearse, irritating you that little bit more. And by the time you get on stage to show the group your scene your partner may just get stage fright and forget all his lines.
He'll then stare at you expecting you to carry the scene, and you quickly utilize every known improv trick in your basket to just finish the damned thing so you can sit down.
You may need to rush to the bathroom at this point so you can control your mounting aesthetic rage and remind yourself that these are just the tough days, and you'll get through them. But then you remember that the bathrooms do not contain toliet paper, soap, nor (possibly) running water. They do however come equipped with your favorite animal, roaches, so you think better of it and return back to your park bench mulling over your thoughts.
After about two hours of this you're sent home to contemplate how you'll ever get an agent and if your day will come.
So needless to say this is not my only project in the mix. There's always an audition or a side project going on and that gives me hope for better days. Right now all I can do is find the ridiculousness and laugh, because other wise this biz is just too hard.
Go with laughter,
Katie Aka The Goof ;) Thanks Riles
