(Courtesy of, referred by my soulfriend Markie)
SEASONS: Oliver Davis (and Vivaldi!)
Currently: Anno 1: Spring
Listen to this song, you won't be disappointed, and it will help you feel ALIVE and hopeful, yet with a twinge of disconsolate angst... just a twinge, just enough to wanna create your masterpiece!
I've been auditioning a LOT lately. Mostly this is because I have really been upping my casting director workshops, reaching out to friends and acquaintances in casting, and, well, just putting it out there more! Plus, going brunette seems to have made a huge difference. Don't get me wrong- I miss being blonde! I definitely felt lighter, younger, and more... Californian. (So says the primarily Nordic SHE.)
But, something about the last few months of my life, I've wanted to be more natural, more myself. I stopped getting lash extensions (okay, that's because it turns out I'm allergic to them. I still love the way they look!) I went to as close to my real hair color as I could get, and judging by the roots coming in, I'm pretty close. And I have been OWNING my badassery alongside my elegance, eschewing my former rock and roll years and truly focusing on singing Broadway and opera and standards a la Bette, and owning my TV and film game a la Cher and Susan Sarandon, and writing away a la Nora (Ephron!), and marketing myself like Sandra (Bullock) meets Babs (Streisand.) I've been avoiding politics and instead creating somewhat populist web series and films to remind us that our differences can sometimes become assets, and in the end, we're all human, and we all share a few basics... and some of us share more basics than we ever thought or imagined from our own little worldview.
So I've been more me than ever before. Curiously, Carlo informed me the other day that I have been very sad, maybe even depressed, for the last 6 months. I swear to God I had no idea! I swear to God the opposite is true! I think I've just been really focused... and...
When people meet me, they think, "Dang that girl can talk!" It's true. I can talk a waterfall. But when I get really close to someone, I rarely talk at all. Weird, right? It's sort of like.... words are false compared to my love, and the closest thing I can find is violins and latin verbs sung in my mix-chest register. I know that only makes a tiny bit of sense but there we have it.
Getting to know a person, really know a person, is a funny thing. With me, in the beginning, there's this layer, oh, the talker. The entertainer. The people pleaser. Then there's the layer of thoughtful gifting and caring, but not much actual interaction. Then there's the layer where you show your anxieties and your hopes and fears and dreams, and pray to God that the risk you're taking in vulnerability isn't pushed away, because you're getting really close to that hot lava core of the heart of a person. And then there's the other side, the other side where hearts are connected and spirit sings in unison, and when one or both of you needs to be human, you can individuate in an instant, and just be there at the drop of a hat (or tiara, in my case.) And that's when you are soulmates.
Everyone has different layers before you get to that other side. I tend to become soulmates with people who aren't talkers in layers one or two, but when they are super close, almost to that gooey lava core, they won't shut up. :)
Yes, I did say "become" soulmates. I didn't mean anything by that, or maybe I meant everything.
ANNO IV: WINTER.
So the other day I was auditioning for a very cool film project that I really wanted. I was disappointed when I got there because every woman auditioning for my part was probably about ten years older than me, yet I'm about ten years too old for the other awesome female role. I'm in between castable ages? I dunno. It's okay! But it was amazing to watch all the kids across the room waiting for a different audition. I loved watching the interactions between child actors and parents- which children were just PERFECTLY behaved... I watched one woman stroke her daughter's hair lovingly, maybe even sort of... too lovingly. Not in a weird or wrong or bad way but like... maybe it's the Minnesotan in me, I'm just too pragmatic to think it's a good idea to stroke the hair of a 12 or 13 year old the way you would nurse a baby. Then again, maybe I'm just jealous. Watching that young lady, I kept thinking of me at that age, and how desperately I wanted to be a child actor. I would BEG my mother to take me to Hollywood. She never would, telling me instead that when I turned 18 I was free to do as I pleased. I want to go back in time to that little 11, 12 year old and tell her a few things....
First of all, I want to tell her that I grew up to transcend those awkward "ugly" years. I was never as pretty as any of these children in these auditions. I was chubby, with crazy funky hair, and big coke bottle glasses. I was awkward, although loving and smart and funny. It doesn't matter if a person is "pretty" or not, it really doesn't, but I embrace myself now, where I am lovely, where I am not so lovely and am working on appreciating the hell out of myself anyway.
Secondly, I want to tell my childhood self that she was right. It's amazing to perform, to be an actor or singer or writer, to tell stories, to move people, to walk a mile in someone else's shoes and explore the boundaries of humanity and then share that with an audience.
And thirdly, I want to tell her to get a big cup of f*** it. Because people will and will not like your work all day long, and it all has meaning but none of it has meaning about your heart, your soul, or your potential.
Vivaldi: Four Seasons: Concerto No. 1 in E Major.
I'm about to go make dinner, but I wanted to dash off a few of these comments. I am grateful for every audition. I am grateful for every script. I am also happy, despite what my allergies may make it look like in my Instagram feed. ;-p
Love to you