Thursday, September 22, 2011
Friday, September 16, 2011
little thing
Yesterday Nicole, one of the seniors in Jack, or the Submission, told me that she is really happy that I am doing the show with them. I worked with Nicole last spring in Skin of Our Teeth, but hearing her tell me that, of her own volition, made my day, and possibly my week. And it made me really, really happy.
I feel like I might be finally coming to the right place within this theatre major of mine.
I feel like I might be finally coming to the right place within this theatre major of mine.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Saturday, September 10, 2011
good things
I just received an e-mail from the stage manager for Jack, or the Submission. I've been cast as Jacqueline! Our first rehearsal is this Monday night and I am so thrilled to start my second show ever with the theatre department, and to get to work so closely with so many brilliant seniors, including Bryna, the director.
Yesterday I also auditioned for the other theatre department show this semester, The Servant of Two Masters. Roger Babb (with whom I worked on Skin of Our Teeth) is adapting the play into a musical, but since there are non-musical parts, he said I could audition without singing. So I did, and then at the end of my readings, he asked me to sing. I politely refused, but he somehow finagled me into it. When I told him I didn't have any singing material prepared, he told me that I should sing whatever song came to mind. Then I said, "Roger, I've had a song stuck in my head for the last 24 hours but it's really inappropriate" -- to which he replied, "Just sing it anyway." So I did. And I sang the chorus to this. Yes, I know, really embarrassing. After I finished singing, Roger sat quietly (leaving me to think I was about to be dismissed from the theatre for good) until he said, "I like that song." I promptly followed this remark by clarifying that I had not, in fact, just had sex. (The musical director, Brendan Connelly, who is also my "Sound Design" professor, joked that he wasn't so sure.) This is a terribly long story, I know, but it was funny in the moment and still funny now, at least to me.
Anyway, after my full audition ended, Roger came to speak with me about callbacks for his show. He wanted to call me back but he also knew that I had auditioned for Bryna's show, so he asked me which I would prefer to be cast in if they both wanted me. We talked for a bit and decided that Bryna's show would be a better fit in my schedule (which is true), but he also told me that he considers me to be the next in a [somewhat exclusive] line of student actors in the department that he trusts and that he always knows he can use somewhere, somehow in his shows. Basically this meant he compared me with Jane Bradley (Sabina in Skin of Our Teeth) and Bryna and all of the other exceedingly talented seniors. I don't know if Roger knows it, but he made my day with that comment.
I was so overcome with surprise (and excitement) that Roger likes me as an actress that I blurted out, "Will you be my advisor?" before I could really think about the timing of my question. He's in the middle of auditions for a huge, 18th-century musical, he's set to leave for sabbatical in January, and he is already advising about half of this year's graduating theatre majors. But I've been meaning to ask for a while now, and not because I dislike my current advisor: she heads the department and has an adorable British accent, but she also focuses on set and costume design, whereas I plan to focus on performance. Since Roger is one of the two directors in the department, I know he's a better fit for me. So I asked the question and (again to my welcomed surprise) he said yes! All I have to do is fill out an advisor-change form and I am good to go. It seems strange now but I had been dreading asking him, maybe because up until yesterday I still felt unsure as to my working relationship with Roger. Our discussion yesterday, however, has made me feel 110% better about my standing within the department or, at the very least, my standing with Roger.
Enough about the theatre department, though! Classes started Wednesday and I accidentally missed my first class of the semester, due to a faulty alarm. It was my "Modern American Drama" class at UMass, the very first course I'm taking off-campus, and I slept through the bus time I was supposed to make. Whoops. Luckily Leanne is in the lecture with me (I am so happy!) and she said I didn't miss much. I also feel I should somewhat redeem myself by confirming that I did, indeed, make it to the discussion section of this class yesterday. I also feel I should thank my saint of a mother for calmly taking two semi-hysterical phone calls regarding my trials and tribulations with UMass and its campus. (Thank you!)
The rest of my courses, all at Mount Holyoke, seem really interesting as well! I have a required course on tutoring for writing, which I have to complete in order to work at the Speaking, Arguing, and Writing Center next semester. I am enrolled in two theatre courses: "Histories of Performance," which apparently is the death of some aspiring theatre majors, and "Sound Design for Theatre and Film," which after only one class I know I am going to love! I am also taking a gender studies course called "Politics of Abortion," taught by a professor from Latin America and focusing on abortion laws in North and South America. The reading load for the class is quite heavy, although unfortunately I have found this to be a common theme among most (read: 4 out of 5) of my courses.
Admittedly I feel slightly nervous that I may have overcommitted myself this fall, since I now have a theatre practicum (Jack) and I am also secretary of Project: Theatre (I'm so excited for the season to start!) and I'm copyediting for the newspaper and working on the lit mag. Maybe it doesn't sound like much, but it feels like a lot, and I did contemplate dropping an academic course to even everything out. I can't pick one that I would willingly drop, though! They're all far too interesting. I suppose I will just sell my soul to academia for the next four months.
I realize I have rambled for some time now about theatre and courses and things that are likely of little or no interest to anyone else, and I apologize. Here's to hoping that whoever may be reading this is happy, healthy, and enjoying life right now. And for those of you at school, have a great fall semester!
Yesterday I also auditioned for the other theatre department show this semester, The Servant of Two Masters. Roger Babb (with whom I worked on Skin of Our Teeth) is adapting the play into a musical, but since there are non-musical parts, he said I could audition without singing. So I did, and then at the end of my readings, he asked me to sing. I politely refused, but he somehow finagled me into it. When I told him I didn't have any singing material prepared, he told me that I should sing whatever song came to mind. Then I said, "Roger, I've had a song stuck in my head for the last 24 hours but it's really inappropriate" -- to which he replied, "Just sing it anyway." So I did. And I sang the chorus to this. Yes, I know, really embarrassing. After I finished singing, Roger sat quietly (leaving me to think I was about to be dismissed from the theatre for good) until he said, "I like that song." I promptly followed this remark by clarifying that I had not, in fact, just had sex. (The musical director, Brendan Connelly, who is also my "Sound Design" professor, joked that he wasn't so sure.) This is a terribly long story, I know, but it was funny in the moment and still funny now, at least to me.
Anyway, after my full audition ended, Roger came to speak with me about callbacks for his show. He wanted to call me back but he also knew that I had auditioned for Bryna's show, so he asked me which I would prefer to be cast in if they both wanted me. We talked for a bit and decided that Bryna's show would be a better fit in my schedule (which is true), but he also told me that he considers me to be the next in a [somewhat exclusive] line of student actors in the department that he trusts and that he always knows he can use somewhere, somehow in his shows. Basically this meant he compared me with Jane Bradley (Sabina in Skin of Our Teeth) and Bryna and all of the other exceedingly talented seniors. I don't know if Roger knows it, but he made my day with that comment.
I was so overcome with surprise (and excitement) that Roger likes me as an actress that I blurted out, "Will you be my advisor?" before I could really think about the timing of my question. He's in the middle of auditions for a huge, 18th-century musical, he's set to leave for sabbatical in January, and he is already advising about half of this year's graduating theatre majors. But I've been meaning to ask for a while now, and not because I dislike my current advisor: she heads the department and has an adorable British accent, but she also focuses on set and costume design, whereas I plan to focus on performance. Since Roger is one of the two directors in the department, I know he's a better fit for me. So I asked the question and (again to my welcomed surprise) he said yes! All I have to do is fill out an advisor-change form and I am good to go. It seems strange now but I had been dreading asking him, maybe because up until yesterday I still felt unsure as to my working relationship with Roger. Our discussion yesterday, however, has made me feel 110% better about my standing within the department or, at the very least, my standing with Roger.
Enough about the theatre department, though! Classes started Wednesday and I accidentally missed my first class of the semester, due to a faulty alarm. It was my "Modern American Drama" class at UMass, the very first course I'm taking off-campus, and I slept through the bus time I was supposed to make. Whoops. Luckily Leanne is in the lecture with me (I am so happy!) and she said I didn't miss much. I also feel I should somewhat redeem myself by confirming that I did, indeed, make it to the discussion section of this class yesterday. I also feel I should thank my saint of a mother for calmly taking two semi-hysterical phone calls regarding my trials and tribulations with UMass and its campus. (Thank you!)
The rest of my courses, all at Mount Holyoke, seem really interesting as well! I have a required course on tutoring for writing, which I have to complete in order to work at the Speaking, Arguing, and Writing Center next semester. I am enrolled in two theatre courses: "Histories of Performance," which apparently is the death of some aspiring theatre majors, and "Sound Design for Theatre and Film," which after only one class I know I am going to love! I am also taking a gender studies course called "Politics of Abortion," taught by a professor from Latin America and focusing on abortion laws in North and South America. The reading load for the class is quite heavy, although unfortunately I have found this to be a common theme among most (read: 4 out of 5) of my courses.
Admittedly I feel slightly nervous that I may have overcommitted myself this fall, since I now have a theatre practicum (Jack) and I am also secretary of Project: Theatre (I'm so excited for the season to start!) and I'm copyediting for the newspaper and working on the lit mag. Maybe it doesn't sound like much, but it feels like a lot, and I did contemplate dropping an academic course to even everything out. I can't pick one that I would willingly drop, though! They're all far too interesting. I suppose I will just sell my soul to academia for the next four months.
I realize I have rambled for some time now about theatre and courses and things that are likely of little or no interest to anyone else, and I apologize. Here's to hoping that whoever may be reading this is happy, healthy, and enjoying life right now. And for those of you at school, have a great fall semester!
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Cat
Auditions for Jack, or the Submission are tonight and I'm more than a little nervous. Absurdist theatre is simultaneously brilliant to watch and terrifying to initially interpret.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
I've met so many new people
in just five days here! I love being back at school, much more than I thought I would.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Honesty
Tonight you told me how uncommonly straightforward you are with me.
It's about time I returned the favor.
Maybe you'll see this, or maybe you won't, but here's my truth:
I am so glad to have a friend like you.
And I am so happy with us as we are, too.
It's about time I returned the favor.
Maybe you'll see this, or maybe you won't, but here's my truth:
I am so glad to have a friend like you.
And I am so happy with us as we are, too.
Monday, August 22, 2011
if you won't let me
Today's song is "Ain't No Way" by Aretha Franklin, simply because it feels so very true right now.
I know that a woman's duty
is to help and love a man
and that's the way it was planned--
oh, but how can I
give you all the things I can
if you're tying both of my hands?
I know that a woman's duty
is to help and love a man
and that's the way it was planned--
oh, but how can I
give you all the things I can
if you're tying both of my hands?
Sunday, August 21, 2011
I wish you wouldn't keep screwing things up.
Love is love.
Why can't you understand how simple things could be?
Why can't you understand how simple things could be?
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Catch-Up
This afternoon I came home from work and within minutes felt inexplicably, rather embarrassingly lonely. I don't know what exactly was the cause. I have an idea, but its acknowledgement would mean I have once again taken ten steps backwards in a relationship I have been attempting to define and redefine for years now.
Not knowing what to do, or who to speak with, I called my friend Kaitlin, with whom I have spent the summer working through my internship at The Landmark. Luckily she was free, and we met up at the Bagel Inn for an impromptu, late lunch. It was delicious as always, and I was so glad to get to see Kait once more before I leave for school on Wednesday. She is adorable and we have become close over the past few months. She let me vent about all of my unresolved problems, something I was both hoping would happen but also not expecting. She is such a great listener and such a sweetheart, and she cheered me up immensely in a matter of minutes. We spent the next hour just chatting about life - events, people, places. It was nice and exactly what I needed at the time. Kait, if you are reading this, you are an absolute doll and I am so very lucky to have met you this summer! Thank you for this afternoon. Really, truly, thank you.
I skyped with Lu tonight and it was nice to see her and hear her pretty voice again. She's only been gone for a week now but I already feel her absence tremendously. Every day I wish I could see her and give her a big hug and laugh with her and share the little moments that usually comprise our time together. It was nice to speak with her, though, and see how happy she is to be back in North Carolina. I know she was dreading leaving us behind to head back to High Point, but I also knew that she would be absolutely fine once she actually settled back down into college life, and she completely is, and I am so glad for her. I am already counting down the days until Thanksgiving weekend! Only 99 days to go.
It is now 11:00 p.m. My entire family has gone off to our respective bedrooms, making tonight one of the quietest summer evenings yet. I'm lying in bed, about to watch "Doubt" with Meryl Streep and Amy Adams. I have been meaning to see the film for a while now, especially since I love the play and actually did some scene work from the original script with my friend Ashley for a theatre class this spring. It is not by any means the happiest of films with which to end my day, but I think it's due at the library soon, and I don't feel very tired yet, so I figure now is as good a time as any to watch it. The entire main cast earned Oscar nominations, so I know at the very least that it will be fantastic.
I really want to phone someone right now but I am pretty sure my call will be less than well received. I always overthink things, though, so maybe the resistance I perceive to be real is merely my own worries coalescing into one giant mess.
We shall see.
Only six days until I head back to Mount Holyoke. Parting is bittersweet and something I am simultaneously dying for and dreading with all of my being.
Not knowing what to do, or who to speak with, I called my friend Kaitlin, with whom I have spent the summer working through my internship at The Landmark. Luckily she was free, and we met up at the Bagel Inn for an impromptu, late lunch. It was delicious as always, and I was so glad to get to see Kait once more before I leave for school on Wednesday. She is adorable and we have become close over the past few months. She let me vent about all of my unresolved problems, something I was both hoping would happen but also not expecting. She is such a great listener and such a sweetheart, and she cheered me up immensely in a matter of minutes. We spent the next hour just chatting about life - events, people, places. It was nice and exactly what I needed at the time. Kait, if you are reading this, you are an absolute doll and I am so very lucky to have met you this summer! Thank you for this afternoon. Really, truly, thank you.
I skyped with Lu tonight and it was nice to see her and hear her pretty voice again. She's only been gone for a week now but I already feel her absence tremendously. Every day I wish I could see her and give her a big hug and laugh with her and share the little moments that usually comprise our time together. It was nice to speak with her, though, and see how happy she is to be back in North Carolina. I know she was dreading leaving us behind to head back to High Point, but I also knew that she would be absolutely fine once she actually settled back down into college life, and she completely is, and I am so glad for her. I am already counting down the days until Thanksgiving weekend! Only 99 days to go.
It is now 11:00 p.m. My entire family has gone off to our respective bedrooms, making tonight one of the quietest summer evenings yet. I'm lying in bed, about to watch "Doubt" with Meryl Streep and Amy Adams. I have been meaning to see the film for a while now, especially since I love the play and actually did some scene work from the original script with my friend Ashley for a theatre class this spring. It is not by any means the happiest of films with which to end my day, but I think it's due at the library soon, and I don't feel very tired yet, so I figure now is as good a time as any to watch it. The entire main cast earned Oscar nominations, so I know at the very least that it will be fantastic.
I really want to phone someone right now but I am pretty sure my call will be less than well received. I always overthink things, though, so maybe the resistance I perceive to be real is merely my own worries coalescing into one giant mess.
We shall see.
Only six days until I head back to Mount Holyoke. Parting is bittersweet and something I am simultaneously dying for and dreading with all of my being.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Sunday, August 7, 2011
descent, decline, desertion.
My heart drops
a little lower in my stomach
each time
I see the spark in your eyes
because
more often
than not
it flickers only
when you recall
a moment you spent
with her.
a little lower in my stomach
each time
I see the spark in your eyes
because
more often
than not
it flickers only
when you recall
a moment you spent
with her.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Shelf Life
Going back to school will be a welcomed change, if only because it will allow me to place you on a shelf and force myself to let the dust gather.
I have spent too many months picking you up from this makeshift display in my mind and my fingerprints have wearied the few spots where particles have had the chance to even begin collecting.
Show and tell is not meant for one
and you have been showing and telling to someone else
for longer than I readily admit.
I have spent too many months picking you up from this makeshift display in my mind and my fingerprints have wearied the few spots where particles have had the chance to even begin collecting.
Show and tell is not meant for one
and you have been showing and telling to someone else
for longer than I readily admit.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
verse redux
It is often said that artists, as a whole, are tortured souls. Surely this is not something that can be easily contested. Quite frankly, it really cannot be refuted at all. Just look at Van Gogh.
But I have been reading a slew of my favorite poetry collections lately, and I am starting to believe- really, truly and with my whole being- that poets are by far the most tormented when it comes to love.
In this I am as much a poet as I ever have been before.
But I have been reading a slew of my favorite poetry collections lately, and I am starting to believe- really, truly and with my whole being- that poets are by far the most tormented when it comes to love.
In this I am as much a poet as I ever have been before.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Numb
There are so many reasons to be happy right now.
I can think of them
but I cannot seem
to force
the happiness.
I can think of them
but I cannot seem
to force
the happiness.
Monday, July 18, 2011
This I Know
All I want is to feel love and share love and find that same love returned to me with overwhelming truth.
I am absolutely terrified that this will never happen. Six years into my own history of spreading the contents of my heart, I have found that the scars left behind far outweigh most of the infectious energy and beautiful, simplistic affection with which my best relationships were filled.
As soon as each pair of me and him breaks, I lose another tiny sliver of myself, bits and pieces of me that take far longer to heal than they do to splinter. I am in a constant process of recovery, one that I worry will never cease. Every time I near a mended version of myself - as close to my original, innocent, and blissfully naïve self as I can reasonably expect to return - I am somehow swept back into this ever-deepening whirlpool of romance and risk and (or so my fears convince me) eventual pain.
At the same time, I believe adamantly that not every person's experience is so excruciating. I have friends in relationships with staggering constancy and commitment. I know that kind of unconditional, devoted love is possible.
I just do not know why some people have a much more difficult time tracking it down. What makes one person easier to cheat on than another? Surely having the unfortunate ability to claim oneself as a victim of infidelity is not uncommon, though if the sanctity of the word "love" meant to everyone anything at all, affairs would never occur. Still, I cannot help but wonder what it is about me that has allowed three men, on four different occasions, to so surreptitiously seek the company of another while still promising sweet, despicable nothings to their blind, all too trusting girlfriend.
It is a weakness to trust too easily but still more of a weakness to withhold trust completely. Where is the middle ground? Would adjusting my level of faith in others achieve anything, or would nothing at all change?
I have said "I love you" to more than one person, and the triad of words is not one that I use loosely. I live and breathe each and every syllable:
"I," me, the broken girl with an injured spirit
"love," so totally and with abandon
"you," whoever that wonderful boy may be.
I have said "I love you" multiple times and despite reciprocity of the phrase - despite seeming reciprocity through actions and feelings and intrinsic connections - I am always the last to love. His love has always expired, has always run dry well before my own has even begun to plateau.
I leave every relationship, or, more correctly, am left at the end of every relationship, with love to spare, more and more and more to give, and no one willing to receive my gift genuinely.
Even now I am bursting with love, so very much of it that sometimes I do honestly feel like I might explode. Over the years, bruises have piled themselves on top of each other, my body becoming simultaneously immune to the shock yet more sensitive with each additional blow.
Now I love silently. I allow my love to pulse within me, through my veins, through my arteries, leaving my heart and returning once more, always, to my heart and only mine. The hardest truth I know right now is that my greatest love, my most beautiful, my most painful, my most honest, is also the most hopeless love I have ever harbored.
I love and love and love. For years now I have held this love quietly within me. Every fiber of my being wishes to scream out exactly how I feel, and yet every time the opportunity finds me, something convinces me otherwise.
I know he knows and while an unspoken understanding might and should make this heavy burden easier to bear, there exists a distinct unwillingness to even approach the love floating, more so straining, to find equilibrium between me and him.
I love you. Will you ever let me tell you?
I am absolutely terrified that this will never happen. Six years into my own history of spreading the contents of my heart, I have found that the scars left behind far outweigh most of the infectious energy and beautiful, simplistic affection with which my best relationships were filled.
As soon as each pair of me and him breaks, I lose another tiny sliver of myself, bits and pieces of me that take far longer to heal than they do to splinter. I am in a constant process of recovery, one that I worry will never cease. Every time I near a mended version of myself - as close to my original, innocent, and blissfully naïve self as I can reasonably expect to return - I am somehow swept back into this ever-deepening whirlpool of romance and risk and (or so my fears convince me) eventual pain.
At the same time, I believe adamantly that not every person's experience is so excruciating. I have friends in relationships with staggering constancy and commitment. I know that kind of unconditional, devoted love is possible.
I just do not know why some people have a much more difficult time tracking it down. What makes one person easier to cheat on than another? Surely having the unfortunate ability to claim oneself as a victim of infidelity is not uncommon, though if the sanctity of the word "love" meant to everyone anything at all, affairs would never occur. Still, I cannot help but wonder what it is about me that has allowed three men, on four different occasions, to so surreptitiously seek the company of another while still promising sweet, despicable nothings to their blind, all too trusting girlfriend.
It is a weakness to trust too easily but still more of a weakness to withhold trust completely. Where is the middle ground? Would adjusting my level of faith in others achieve anything, or would nothing at all change?
I have said "I love you" to more than one person, and the triad of words is not one that I use loosely. I live and breathe each and every syllable:
"I," me, the broken girl with an injured spirit
"love," so totally and with abandon
"you," whoever that wonderful boy may be.
I have said "I love you" multiple times and despite reciprocity of the phrase - despite seeming reciprocity through actions and feelings and intrinsic connections - I am always the last to love. His love has always expired, has always run dry well before my own has even begun to plateau.
I leave every relationship, or, more correctly, am left at the end of every relationship, with love to spare, more and more and more to give, and no one willing to receive my gift genuinely.
Even now I am bursting with love, so very much of it that sometimes I do honestly feel like I might explode. Over the years, bruises have piled themselves on top of each other, my body becoming simultaneously immune to the shock yet more sensitive with each additional blow.
Now I love silently. I allow my love to pulse within me, through my veins, through my arteries, leaving my heart and returning once more, always, to my heart and only mine. The hardest truth I know right now is that my greatest love, my most beautiful, my most painful, my most honest, is also the most hopeless love I have ever harbored.
I love and love and love. For years now I have held this love quietly within me. Every fiber of my being wishes to scream out exactly how I feel, and yet every time the opportunity finds me, something convinces me otherwise.
I know he knows and while an unspoken understanding might and should make this heavy burden easier to bear, there exists a distinct unwillingness to even approach the love floating, more so straining, to find equilibrium between me and him.
I love you. Will you ever let me tell you?
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
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