Standing on a Different Plane

Last week, my day started out with cursing the gods, and ended talking philosophy with a drunk midget. A drunk midget who specializes in human suspension.

May I just say, every week, I find another reason to be grateful that I live in New York City.

Human suspension, in case anyone doesn't know, is the art of putting hooks through your skin in multiple places and hanging for minutes or hours at a time. I don't know what the exact process is, but at the Manor, in the room next door to Barbara Blue's House of Hair, is Disgraceland, where the year-round carnival freaks come to be chained, pierced, and snagged and scare the living crap out of anyone within 20 feet of them.

Whilst talking to Steve (the aforementioned little person) he explained that suspension has been practiced for thousands of years as a form of meditation. Yet another way humans have found to access another plane of existence, to reach mental clarity. Throwing aside the factor of self-destruction, ways to the alternate plane include yoga, suspension, drugs, severe diet restriction, intense excercise, so many trials people put themselves through for a few moments of enlightenment.

All this falls under the heading of meditation; everyone has their own personal form of bypassing the everyday world, including me. My personal choice happens to be art. Theatre, in particular, but I believe all forms of true art come from the desire of the artist to achieve something beyond what the immediate world has to offer. I know that when I personally am involved in a scene, I forget the real world around me and get caught up in 'the moment', and the same happens with dancers, musicians, even visual artists let the world around them fade as they mold and sculpt.

Almost any artist will tell you that a certain amount of pain is necessary to create great art. So are these suspension artists merely a bunch of people who are in desparate need of some therapy, or do we all somehow specialize in pain, if only to reach that other plane for one shining moment?

In my play, our director makes sure onstage we are never on the same spacial plane, because if we are all even, not only is it not as interesting to look at, it is not as lifelike.
However you get there, alternate planes are just a part of human existence. Because no matter how mundane to colorful this beautiful life on earth is, being human is knowing there is something more. SomeWHERE more.

I'll see you there.

The One, or, True Love: WTF?

So, between rehearsal and hell week at the Manor, I'm a bit tired and have decided to post one of my old blogs from myspace. Pathetic, I know, but this is one of my favorites I've ever written and would like it to be up here.
So, without further ado....

Let me just start this off by saying that this is not intended as a message for anybody. This is not supposed to start a personal discussion, this is not supposed to hurt anyone's feelings, and this is not supposed to be read into or taken very seriously at all. This is just a blog about some things I've been thinking a lot about lately.

That being said...

I've been thinking a lot lately about love. No, not family love, not friend or pet love. Real, true, consuming, heated, romantic love. Who has it, who doesn't, who wants it, who loves it, who hates it, who can't get enough of it, who wants to forget it. I'm willing to bet that anyone who has really experienced it has felt all of these things. I'm also willing to bet that if you don't know if you've had it or not, chances are you haven't. It hits you like a fucking mac truck.

Or does it?

I was talking to my mom about love today, or more specifically, The One. How do you know? How did she know? If anyone should know about love, she should. She was proposed to twice by the time she was my age, 5 times in total. She said yes to the last one, who 26 years later, is still her husband. I asked her if she loved the other guys. She said she did. I asked her, but how did you know to say no to them when they asked? She said she just didn't feel 'it', whatever 'it' is. I asked her how did she know with dad if she had never felt it before? She just knew. And she did, right from the very beginning. After their first kiss, the first thing she did was call her mother and tell her "I just met the man I'm going to marry."

No, this is not made up. Apparently this kind of thing actually does happen.

That's the 'movie version' if you will. Some instinct deep in your gut tells you "This is it. You can stop looking. This is what you've been waiting for" And it doesn't, say, wait the appropriate length of time for you to weigh the pros and cons, or gradually let the other person discover it first, or take a very intellectual look at your emotions and logically decide that yes, you are, in fact, in love.

This is what my mom believes to be the indicator that this is The One. And my mom is a smart lady. It hit her once, she siezed it, and never looked back.

This is also what most people are looking for. And they are on their guard about it, because who knows, you may lose your one chance! So grab it when it comes along, don't let go!

I should mention my mom also said that she believes there is more than one The One out there. For everyone.

WHAT??????

This is all very confusing to me. There is only supposed to be one The One. That's why he or she is called... well... The One. Right?

If my mom is right, then I have met one The One. According to her, at least. But she is firm in the belief that I will find another The One. But to be honest, I don't know if I believe that's possible. I absolutely believe in finding love again, I may have already. But that gut feeling... I know what she's talking about. I've felt it. It seems to me to be something so precious, something that not everyone gets to experience even once, that there's no way someone could ever be lucky enough to find it twice.

But maybe not everyone finds The One like my mom did. Maybe the gradual realization that you're in love with your best friend is the way to The One. Maybe the couple that had an arranged marraige, that looks up one day and loves their spouse is the way to The One, and fate happened to play a hand. Maybe two emotionally beaten people who grow to trust each other, testing the waters every step of the way, is the way to The One.

The point is, I have no idea.

So... I'm stuck. Maybe the answer will be revealed in time, maybe my mom is right, maybe she's full of crap. I do believe that everything happens for a reason though, and even in the deepest dark and confusion, I have faith in that.

Anyway, that's been heavy on my mind. I'm wondering if I'm the only paranoid person who thinks about this stuff in that much detail, and if not, what other's viewpoints on love are. Feel free to respond to this, either in comment or in a message, but please, lets keep it academic. Again, this is nothing personal, I don't want to get into personal issues. This is just my neuroses reaching out to bounce ideas and viewpoints off of friends.

Whatever the real answer is, I hope that all of you get to experience it at least once. Just remember to be open to it, and believe it will come.

Thanks for listening.

Interview for the Ages

Well, at least the ages of my limited life experience.

To give some backround so you know what the hell I'm talking about: at my acting studio, we have a class that teaches us how to be working actors, or, the business side of acting. We recently received an assignment to research different vital and relevant artists and theater companies in NYC that we should all be familiar with as working professionals.
A while ago, my grandfather (who seems to know someone in every company that exists) introduced me to a member of the board of directors at New York Theater Workshop, a theater company dedicated to the production of new work and cultivating the artistic urge. This theater company was on the list, and I fought to research it (won, obviously). So I called her, and she was kind enough to set up meetings for me with the artistic and assistant artistic director of the theater.

Oh, and also she let me meet with Michael Greif.
This man is a director, on our list of who we should know, who was the director of, among many others, the currently running on Broadway Next to Normal, Grey Gardens, and..... RENT.

Shall I repeat that for you? RENT... MY FAVORITE MUSICAL OF ALL TIME EVER EVER

What an absolute thrill and honor.
I interviewed him, and he couldn't have been sweeter. Meeting the man who helped bring that amazing musical to life was one of those things I daren't even hope for, because I would be too lucky.

But it did happen, and what made it even better was meeting with the heads of the theater that brought it to life. It was such a relief and comfort to listen to two people who cared so much about creating true art, even after years of living in the theatre world, which we all know is not easy and has the capacity to make anyone bitter. They do it, very simply, because they love it and they cannot do anything else with their lives. Their dedication to carrying out the vision of the artist is truly inspiring, and it makes NYTW the kind of company I want to work in someday.

I never forget how much I love theatre, but it's nice to have the realization that it is where I belong land home, in my heart, once more.

What Makes You Feel Naked?

You know you've said it as some point in your life. "I'd feel naked without my (fill in the blank)" It could be a purse, underwear, makeup, a writing utensil, jewelery, anything. For me, makeup and earrings are a biggie. I always have a little makeup on, and I need earrings when I walk out of the house. I have a weird fear that my ears are too big, specifically the right one...

But I digress.

As actors, there are many different skills and/or techniques we need to master. Just like you are better at some subjects than others in school, so is every actor naturally more proficient in some areas than others. Some actors have amazing comedic timing, but have a hard time with having expressive body language. Some actors are very emotionally available, but have a hard time figuring out an objective. And so on.

I have many strengths as an actor. I am confident in this belief.
However, my weakness is emotional accessibility. I too often find myself watching, well... myself. And when I'm watching myself onstage I cannot get truly involved in what is happening. And then I can't feel anything; my acting turns fake, albeit entertaining.
To put it simply, my brain gets in the way of my emotions.

I am currently in a production of Euripedes' The Trojan Women. It's a Greek play about the women of Troy the morning after the Greeks win the 10-year war with the Trojan horse. The women are being forced into slavery, and witness atrocities throughout the course of the play.
They're not too happy about it. To put it mildly.

The play requires all the actors to be incredibly emotional, and I was at first incredibly daunted by my part in this. I am onstage literally for almost the entire play, and must be open to every terrible thing that happens.
But I was able to surprise myself. Although it was by no means consistent, I was more open and focused than I thought I would be. And then something very interesting happened.

Over the last few weeks, I have been in and out of apartments, rehearsals, and the Manor. I am exhausted and in the process of moving lost my makeup bag (PANIC) So, as a result, I have not been bothering to put on makeup every morning like I am accustomed to.
This was very uncomfortable for me at first (I am a HUGE girly girl), then as I got used to it, it started to influence me emotionally. I started to, for the first time, really not care how others looked at me.
And once I didn't care, I stopped watching myself.
And one I stopped watching myself in life, I stopped watching myself while acting.

And a whole new world opened up for me.

It is still not as consistent as I'd like it to be, but every day in rehearsal gets easier and more free. I am more emotionally involved, and am bringing forth truer performances. All stemming from being ok with being 'naked' in public.

So, I have a new acting theory. If you are having difficulty with a particular skill, try and find a part in your everyday life that has a similar effect on you. Then, do something to change it.

We all go tripping through life, but sometimes you happen to fall on the right path.
Opportunities to change are everywhere.

Never forget that.

Don't Walk... Grapevine!

I realized I officially started this blog a little out of the blue, and it occurred to me that you (that ever-elusive you we bloggers talk to who could be anyone but is probably no one) might not know much about me. I don't want this to turn into a boring laundry list of facts, and I'm sure in the coming entries you'll get a pretty good idea of what I'm about, so instead I'll go into someone else's idea of who I am.
Or at least, of anyone born in late June/ early to mid July.

I recently went to this website:
http://mizian.com.ne.kr/englishwiz/library/names/zodiac/contents.htm
It is only useful to anyone who wants to read a hell of a lot more than they ever needed to know about their horoscope sign...
Don't judge me.

I was born around 2 am on June 22nd, in other words, a Cancer, right on the cusp of Gemini. Now as silly as it is, we've all read some kind of description of our sign, and general things that apply to millions usually mesh well with our personalities. It has to, purely because of odds.
I am no hippie. I'm not all about love and peace. I do believe there are things that exist that we cannot perceive or hope to truly understand, but I've always thought this horoscope stuff needed to be taken with a large grain of salt, entertaining as it may be.

So, disregarding the kitty roadkill, victim of a 2009 Curiosity, I started reading my sign's description.

Started out predictable. Water sign, in tune with the moon, romantic, emotional and moody, very caring, etc. Then it started to get a little more practical. Well, as practical as comparing humans to crabs can be. (the sign of cancer is represented by a crab)
Then this statement caught me and knocked the breath out of my chest:

Once you've wounded him, you can poke at him with a sharp stick for days afterwards and not reach him. He won't answer his phone, his doorbell or his mail. In the midst of uncertainty, despair and sadness. Cancer people seek retreat and solitude. Just like real crabs.

This perfectly describes a facet of myself I've never quite been able to understand. Very often, usually in response to something going wrong in my life but not necessarily, I will go into a funk for a few days at a time. I will not answer phone calls, emails, doorbells, will try to avoid contact with anyone. It usually results in some hurt feelings from loved ones and people getting worried, and yet I persist.
My explanation for this has always been that when I am upset about something, I somehow think I should be able to handle it on my own, and don't want to burden others with my problems. I either work it out, or suppress it until it goes away for the time being.

As if this wasn't creepy enough, a few scrolls down the page and I was hit again:

Cancerians never go directly after what they want. Their strategy is to move in every direction but straight ahead.

This sentence describes perfectly the last 4 years of my life. I have taken so many indirect routes to try and achieve what I want, that I have sometimes wondered if it was what I really want after all. I figured if I really wanted it, I would go the straightest and strongest path.

But maybe I'm just trying to fit my square peg into life's round hole.

Maybe these are not problems to be dealt with, but just parts of who I am. Maybe there is nothing wrong with taking a few days to yourself, as long as you go about it the right way. Maybe there is nothing wrong with going after what you want through the (many) indirect paths of life, as long as you have faith you'll get there eventually.

And maybe there is something to this whole astrology crap.

Go figure.

Sex, Money, and What I Wore

I have so many thoughts going through my head that maybe if I get a few out I'll be able to sleep tonight.

Today what happens to be on my mind (for the first time in a while) is sex. The power of sex? The illusion of the power of sex?

My current job is working in a Haunted House called Blood Manor. Satu has been working there for 5 years, I dropped her name, got an audition, and now I am by day, a (mostly) dedicated acting student, but by night... I am either Barbara Blue Bush, the maniacal mutilating beautician, or Amber DeCay, Zombie Stripper/ Go-Go Dancer extraordinaire.
Now as good ol' Blue, I scare the crap out of people with huge fake scissors, blood running from various wounds on my neck and face, with a mile-high blue beehive hairdo. I get to yell, insult them, intimidate them, and it's all fun albeit rough on the voicebox.
As Miss DeCay (get it? cause I'm a zombie and I'm decaying. ha. ha.) I get to do those things as well... but in the stripper room, we have the opportunity to get tips. And a scared customer is not a tipping customer.
This is where the lines begin to blur.
My outfit is pretty much underwear, boots, and a lot of body paint. I have a dog collar around my neck, and I twirl around the pole with grace and vivacity I never thought I would have back in high school. When people come in, I perform what acrobatics I can and then go into sexy mode. The words 'baby' and 'you gotta dollar?' fly out of my mouth, and only when I see that they are not going to tip do I try to intimidate them out of the room.

The question is: Am I sacrificing part of myself, even though Amber is not technically me and no one who didn't know me could ever recognize me, to get a measly crumbled dollar? I am playing a stripper character, but where is the line? And more importantly, why do I enjoy it so much in the moment, but then feel some shame when I am pulling out a wad of fake-bloodstained singles from my wallet?

I have done many things in the past 2, hell, 5 years that I never thought I would do. Some to be proud of, some to be ashamed of. But does this qualify as something shameful?

In high school all I wanted was to be sexy. I've now figured out that being sexy is all in your state of mind, and it is hard to understand sexuality if you've never had sex. But, like any other woman, I sometimes have to fight to reignite that specific fire.
There is this girl from my high school named Chynna. In almost every facebook picture of her, she has that predatory intensely sexual look down to a T. She is a beautiful curvy girl, and she pulls it off effortlessly. A small part of me wants to be like that, but I am awkward, silly, a total dork, who has some good sexy moments that most often stem from being adorable rather than a Venus-like apparition.

As Amber DeCay, I get to live out my inner fantasy of being that purely sexual creature who is out for fun, money, and if she can, the power of the scare.

The important thing in the end? Just as I was not Christina in Red Light Winter, I am not Amber. She is a facet on the gem of who I am, but not the whole damn stone.

So I will continue to fly around the pole without shame, probably fall off once in a while, and revel in my mask of sexuality and gore for the rest of the month. And with my tip money, buy the real Rachel a couple of extra groceries and a much-needed manicure.