Fighting Forward

Life as of late has been a constant exercise in push and pull, in resistance and freedom, in fear and confidence.  Behind me now is the tremendous and momentum-changing 42-Day Challenge that has left me with not only a more focused plan to success but a healthier mindset to help get me there.  I looked at the last of the post-it notes peppered on my wall; reminders of completed milestones and tasks concluded.  But did I feel any closer?

After the last of a series of acting coaching sessions concluded, I sat on the home-bound bus and looked out at the falling rain.  Resting my weary forehead on the window, I felt that twinge of worry creeping in and wondered if all of the work would eventually add up.  Would this fire in my belly ever be satisfied?

I realize that most of life’s rewards are not found within the ends but within the means.  A lot of my joy experienced is a result of the process of breaking the mold over and over.  I know the happiness of learning something new in a lesson that would make me better.  But I want the ultimate prize.  I want the end to reflect the means that I have forged.  Sometimes, such as on a dark bus, I worry that it won’t happen for me.

I have put defense mechanisms in place to combat the doubt when it brims and I smile as I remember the new one I had just added last week after a particularly good acting session on a sunny day in New York.  I replayed the words my acting coach said to me as he pointed with a serious look on his face, ”you are a leading lady.”  I stood before him after two hours of work and let out a deep breath, taking the words in.  I visualized in that moment how my feet would feel on the planks of the professional theatre stage.  The thrilling jolt I felt, just a glimpse of what the real experience would be, was enough to dispel the doubt.

As the dark bus drove through the rain, I reminded myself of that feeling and of what I said out loud as I walked briskly to my bus on that sunny Manhattan day:  ”All I need to do is never give up.”

A ham, I am.

First I would hear my mother’s exasperated sigh followed by, “There you are mysteriously in the frame again! Will you move please?”

This vocal stamp has appeared in most of my home movies throughout my childhood.  Older than the camcorder videos are scores of pictures where the intended subject in the background is blocked by my half-blurred face as I make a jump to get in front of the lens before the shutter clicks.

My family will agree when I say that for my entire life, I have been a ham.  Only a ham would admit she is a ham, yes?  This was simply who I was and has been, no doubt, a helpful trait to embody in the world of performance.

So it was with great excitement when I first took my seat at the Ambler Theater to wait for the Five Day Film Festival to begin.  The movie I was in would be screened with several others for audience and judge voting.  I was impressed with what people could create, write, film and edit given the very short time frame of five days.  And as our movie cued up, I realized very quickly how surreal it was to see your face (and your name) on the big screen.  Instead of the hesitation that I thought I would feel (I like to be in front of cameras but watching myself perform is an entirely different matter), I found myself intrigued by the experience.  I watched closely and took mental notes as to which angles looked best for me and those I didn’t like (I hate profiles).  I noted how my voice sounded or if my face reflected the emotion I was trying to get across.  It was akin to an out-of-body experience.  I was thrilled to finally be seeing the finished product and how my words and scenes fit in to the bigger picture.  I can say with certainty that I’ll do it again.

Surreal.

A heartfelt thanks to Digital Reality Films and namely Rob Coccagna, Robin Coccagna and Nick  Martorelli for this opportunity and a special thanks to Amanda Kay Schill with whom I filmed my scene.  Lesley Berkowitz was the third character in the film.

Risk and Reward

Looking back at October, I can see that it was the month of internal interplay; the tug-of-war within myself resulting in a slow burn towards my goal.  I have danced with risk, played with fear, and walked side by side with uncertainty.  But no matter what I was feeling, I kept going despite it, even feeling a thrill as a result.  Working quietly, I’ve watched colleagues step on to stages and in to wonderful roles, and although I have been supportive and happy for them, I have also fought off envy.  Sometimes impatience rears its ugly head.  I remind myself that this transition was expected and that I feel these things simply because I’m striving for what I deeply desire.

Rewards have come in breaking through my own walls.  Despite the scary experience of my first acting session turning me inside out emotionally, I forged ahead with the second one because the reward of becoming better outweighed my need for comfort.  This past weekend I participated in my first ever film shoot.  Although the medium was completely new to me, I wanted to experience acting at its most intimate so that I could engage the craft fully.  I took a modeling job, not only for the money, but to get used to stepping beyond the bonds of my comfort zone.  Later this week, I will start dance class for the first time in three decades.  I look forward to pushing my body in wonderful and challenging ways.

All of these things, I have to believe, will serenade the goal.  I must embrace the certainty that my time will come.