From 7:30 a.m. to 5 p.m. today I stood outside in the cold. I stood outside in the cold in a cemetery. I stood outside in a cemetery to make a film. While I was standing in place during takes (especially the close-ups on my co-stars where I wasn't in the frame), I was shaking and chattering and feeling incredibly uncomfortable. However, when it was my turn to be on screen, I forgot about the cold. I stopped shaking and I played the scene.
From 5:30 p.m. to 6:15 p.m. I cuddled under two layers of blankets, wore sweatpants, and nursed a cup of hot tea. I was tired and cold and I didn't have any desire to move.
From 7:30 p.m. to 8:15 p.m. today I had a session with my personal trainer. It was one of my most productive sessions yet and I felt amazing afterward. I pushed the whole time and it was worth it.
Today led me to this realization: the body is an amazing thing. While it is definitely connected to the mind, it also has a mind of its own. I know mine takes a beating sometimes with my crazy schedule but I am always amazed at its ability to keep powering through. My body sometimes know things before I do. I don't always cry when I say goodbye to someone, but when I do, it's because my body realizes how much the person means to me. The body feels pain - emotionally and physically - and it recovers from it. The body understands love and passion. The body understands fear. To me, this is incredible. It is the instrument that takes me through my life and while it is influenced by my convoluted crazy mind, it is not soley run by it, and I am thankful for that. And I am thankful my body helps me get through long days like today. It makes me realize just how much I should take care of it, not only as an actor, but as a thank you for the way it supports me. (Pun intended.)
At 11:30 p.m. my body told me it was time for bed. I'm sure listening tonight.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Thoughts on 11:11's "Foreverendia"
Since I last wrote, I've had a wonderful theatrical experience. They say that performing and investing in new work is a financial risk for theatres. While this may be true when it comes to the numbers, I would challenge this notion by saying that the greatest risk lies in allowing the theatre to stagnate by reproducing the same plays over and over again.
This past friday I attended 11:11 Theatre Company's production of Foreverendia by Brian Tuttle. I knew nothing about this production going in, having been invited by a friend who was assistant directing and in the cast. I had no clue what I was about ot experience, but I found myself immersed in a world of imagination and heightened naturalism. Without going into details on the plot, I was lulled into watching this play from the perspective of a child by the freedom and complete abandon with which these actors played with their space and bodies. Often times, watching older actors portray children can be unbelievable or susceptible to stereotype, mechanical acting. But this cast, in collaboration with the playful text, played with such ease and lack of self-conciousness. They actually embodied that innocense and imagination that allows children to explore their imaginations with complete abandon. This ability to play so truthfully is something we often loss when we grow up, and try to reattain as actors. I rarely see that sort of success from adults playing adults, much less adults playing children! But maybe that's what we needed, a play written specifically from the imagination, reaching out to the depths of our inner children.
By the end of the play, I echoed the sentiment of some of the characters. I wanted to go back to Foreverendia, even though I hadn't been there literally. The magical country they establish in their imagination was infallible in a way only a child can concieve. What can I say? It's not often I miss being a kid. But I felt that way on friday night...
In summation, the best parts of the show:
1) The humor and imagination of the writing.
2) The specificity of physical choices and actions taken by the cast.
3) The composition and staging of the piece, particularly the assembly and dissassembly of the land of Foreverendia.
4) The sense of passion and fun the cast seemed to embody.
Kenny
Monday, March 8, 2010
Strong
"Play to your strengths."
Who's heard it?
Me too. And it always seems contrived. The moment a director or acting teacher (or my parents for that matter) would say this to me I immediately felt like they had copped out on me. I mean really, that's all you have? "Play to your strengths."?
In acting school I would often ask teachers and directors what they perceived those strengths to be. Answers varied depending on the class, what we were studying, who the teacher was etc. None of the answers were ever satisfying. The most infuriating answer came from the head of my theatre department (a man who I respect, but never got along with) my senior year. I was struggling to be able to "type" myself. I wasn't sure if I knew what my strengths were. I wasn't sure I knew how to play them, or use them to my advantage. And so I asked his opinion. And he looked at me with his stone cold stare and was quiet for a length of time just long enough for me to get nervous and enraged at the same time.
And then he said "Well, you're just going to have to figure that out for yourself."
And I LOST IT! Tears, big puffy red Irish angry face, yelling. I stormed out muttering something about paying ridiculous amounts of money to have acting teachers guide me and help me for an answer like that! What the fuck was I doing there!? And I was angry about that answer for a long time. And then I graduated and just sort of forgot about it, and went on my way, and started doing really cool and interesting things and didn't really give it much thought.
While working over the last year and a halfish, I decided my strengths came from me being logical and thought driven, I spend a lot of time considering and planning and debating. I like pro and con lists. I draft up budgets. I have 8 separate google calendars. I am always prepared and on time. I know, I sound like the most boring person on earth, right?
But I realized those things make me organized not strong.
The last few months have been a time of personal turmoil : some sadness, some frustration, some nostalgia, a whole lot of impatience (one of my definite weaknesses), and a decent amount of uncertainty. It has been, to say the least, a struggle. But it has also taught me, finally, what my strength is.
My heart.
So easy. So simple. Who knew?
What makes me strong is that I love. I love people, places, foods, hand written notes, songs, words, colors, smells, and on and on. I love lots of different kinds of things and anything at all. Not like ooooey gooey mush love. Not my style. Just deep simple quiet love that lives in my heart. And I realized, that is what makes me strong. That is the strength I need to play.
And it turns out my teacher was right, I did need to find that out for my self.
Who's heard it?
Me too. And it always seems contrived. The moment a director or acting teacher (or my parents for that matter) would say this to me I immediately felt like they had copped out on me. I mean really, that's all you have? "Play to your strengths."?
In acting school I would often ask teachers and directors what they perceived those strengths to be. Answers varied depending on the class, what we were studying, who the teacher was etc. None of the answers were ever satisfying. The most infuriating answer came from the head of my theatre department (a man who I respect, but never got along with) my senior year. I was struggling to be able to "type" myself. I wasn't sure if I knew what my strengths were. I wasn't sure I knew how to play them, or use them to my advantage. And so I asked his opinion. And he looked at me with his stone cold stare and was quiet for a length of time just long enough for me to get nervous and enraged at the same time.
And then he said "Well, you're just going to have to figure that out for yourself."
And I LOST IT! Tears, big puffy red Irish angry face, yelling. I stormed out muttering something about paying ridiculous amounts of money to have acting teachers guide me and help me for an answer like that! What the fuck was I doing there!? And I was angry about that answer for a long time. And then I graduated and just sort of forgot about it, and went on my way, and started doing really cool and interesting things and didn't really give it much thought.
While working over the last year and a halfish, I decided my strengths came from me being logical and thought driven, I spend a lot of time considering and planning and debating. I like pro and con lists. I draft up budgets. I have 8 separate google calendars. I am always prepared and on time. I know, I sound like the most boring person on earth, right?
But I realized those things make me organized not strong.
The last few months have been a time of personal turmoil : some sadness, some frustration, some nostalgia, a whole lot of impatience (one of my definite weaknesses), and a decent amount of uncertainty. It has been, to say the least, a struggle. But it has also taught me, finally, what my strength is.
My heart.
So easy. So simple. Who knew?
What makes me strong is that I love. I love people, places, foods, hand written notes, songs, words, colors, smells, and on and on. I love lots of different kinds of things and anything at all. Not like ooooey gooey mush love. Not my style. Just deep simple quiet love that lives in my heart. And I realized, that is what makes me strong. That is the strength I need to play.
And it turns out my teacher was right, I did need to find that out for my self.
Friday, March 5, 2010
A Good Day
I had an enjoyable Friday today. My roommate and I went skiing for the first time all year - the conditions weren't ideal but it was warm and we had a fantastic time. My body is so tired I can barely stay awake to type this blog. But it's an amazing feeling to be exhausted from something you enjoy. I feel that way about acting a lot - even after I've had a long rehearsal and I'm wiped, it's worth it to know I spent my energy doing something I love.
That's all I've got. I hope you all do something you enjoy this weekend. See you next week!
That's all I've got. I hope you all do something you enjoy this weekend. See you next week!
Thursday, March 4, 2010
When Life Nearly Ended
I personally hesitate to venture into the world of politics on this blog. I believe that overt politics doesn't naturally meld with the format of our particular blog. However, I do believe that artists can often find the emotional and instinctual expression of the issues related to politics. We all live in the same society, and thus we're faced with the same day to day struggles we all deal with. Therefore, I will share with you a personal story.
Erika and I officially decided to found a company in April '09. Three hours of brainstorming, and a few beers later, we had a basic idealogical framework for the work we wanted to do, and the way we wanted to do it. We produced our first audition workshop before we even had name. On Saturday, June 6thth we held our first official workshop at Boston Playwrights Theatre with 15 participants, our maximum capacity. The response was stellar and the event went off without a hitch. I was glowing. Erika and I were set on fire and preparing for our next set of moves, planning to move at break neck speed.
On June 10th, I began to feel heart palpitations and severe lightheadedness on the job. I took a break, assuming perhaps I just needed rest. After a few minutes, I noticed my breaths becoming difficult. I set up an appointment with my doctor, and left work. As I walked into the subway and through the tunnels, my chest began to tighten and I felt sharp pains around my pounding heart. I thought I was having a heart attack... at the age of 23. The EMTs arrived as I began to recover. They found nothing wrong with me, as my blood pressure had returned to normal and my conciousness mostly regained. They gave me the option to go to the emergency room or to my doctor with my mother (Moms rock). Over the course of the next two and a half weeks, I lay in bed slowly recovering. My doctor conducted tests and found nothing wrong with me. No heart problems, no lung problems. But my ability to breathe and use my strength left me unable to leave my house for that length of time. I later found out that I'd had a major panic attack. I was experiencing periodic mild panic attacks even after I'd regained my strength, but effectively lived day to day praying I wouldn't be put out of commission for another two weeks. By July, however, I received a letter from my employer informing me that I had come in below my hourly minimum for benefits.
I came in under...by .96 hours. I don't know the math, but that's barely under an hour. For the first time in my life, I needed regular visits to my doctor and treatment for an urgent problem that was interfering with my ability to live and work day to day. And my insurance was gone.
I regressed. The panic caused by the loss of my insurance was followed by more anxiety and extreme depression. I was breaking down constantly, and regularly. All the while, I was still working and rehearsing despite my physical suffering, desperately hoping my heart palpitations would go away.
The CoLab was delayed. My whole life's focus was my health. We lost a good chunk of time (though thankfully acquired Mary-Liz about this time) due to my health problems. I never told anyone, but I honestly feared that I would have to scrap the Colab and shelve my theater career because of my health problems and inability to properly treat myself. It was terror and struggle and for many months I felt I was missing opportunities. My health prevented me from exploring new employment opportunities, from auditioning, from my life's work. This was a dark time for me, though I really downplayed my health condition to most people.
I live in Massachusetts. The Commonwealth. And I currently have healthcare. I have the best healthcare I've ever had. My private plan is subsidized by the Commonwealth. I choose it through a government run insurance option program known as Commonwealth Care. I had my choice of 4 possible plans priced based on my income. I kept my doctor and now enjoy the lower co-payments and more coverage in case of disaster. I'm happy with my quality of care.
Now I ask you...what good to society would I have been if I'd been having constant attacks and taking off weeks of work at a time? Under those health conditions, how was I supposed to be competitive in the workplace and advance my career? Is that the free market at work? Rewarding the hard work of people who go work for at or near below minimum wage, despite health conditions that they tolerate but may someday catch up and force them into the emergency room?
I have a new job. When I got my insurance, I was able to refocus my life, no longer fearing day to day panics or loss of conciousness. I have a new job, make more money and am now going under review for changes to my benefits according to my new income level. If I can afford to pay more, I gladly will. Because that could be any of us someday. And no one who is willing to work should be denied the right to work because they're too sick for health care.
I have no specific political message here. If you want to have that discussion, e-mail me or pull me aside one day. I'd love to chat. But I will say this: I don't think the CoLab would exist today if not for our system of de facto universal healthcare.
Stay Healthy
Erika and I officially decided to found a company in April '09. Three hours of brainstorming, and a few beers later, we had a basic idealogical framework for the work we wanted to do, and the way we wanted to do it. We produced our first audition workshop before we even had name. On Saturday, June 6thth we held our first official workshop at Boston Playwrights Theatre with 15 participants, our maximum capacity. The response was stellar and the event went off without a hitch. I was glowing. Erika and I were set on fire and preparing for our next set of moves, planning to move at break neck speed.
On June 10th, I began to feel heart palpitations and severe lightheadedness on the job. I took a break, assuming perhaps I just needed rest. After a few minutes, I noticed my breaths becoming difficult. I set up an appointment with my doctor, and left work. As I walked into the subway and through the tunnels, my chest began to tighten and I felt sharp pains around my pounding heart. I thought I was having a heart attack... at the age of 23. The EMTs arrived as I began to recover. They found nothing wrong with me, as my blood pressure had returned to normal and my conciousness mostly regained. They gave me the option to go to the emergency room or to my doctor with my mother (Moms rock). Over the course of the next two and a half weeks, I lay in bed slowly recovering. My doctor conducted tests and found nothing wrong with me. No heart problems, no lung problems. But my ability to breathe and use my strength left me unable to leave my house for that length of time. I later found out that I'd had a major panic attack. I was experiencing periodic mild panic attacks even after I'd regained my strength, but effectively lived day to day praying I wouldn't be put out of commission for another two weeks. By July, however, I received a letter from my employer informing me that I had come in below my hourly minimum for benefits.
I came in under...by .96 hours. I don't know the math, but that's barely under an hour. For the first time in my life, I needed regular visits to my doctor and treatment for an urgent problem that was interfering with my ability to live and work day to day. And my insurance was gone.
I regressed. The panic caused by the loss of my insurance was followed by more anxiety and extreme depression. I was breaking down constantly, and regularly. All the while, I was still working and rehearsing despite my physical suffering, desperately hoping my heart palpitations would go away.
The CoLab was delayed. My whole life's focus was my health. We lost a good chunk of time (though thankfully acquired Mary-Liz about this time) due to my health problems. I never told anyone, but I honestly feared that I would have to scrap the Colab and shelve my theater career because of my health problems and inability to properly treat myself. It was terror and struggle and for many months I felt I was missing opportunities. My health prevented me from exploring new employment opportunities, from auditioning, from my life's work. This was a dark time for me, though I really downplayed my health condition to most people.
I live in Massachusetts. The Commonwealth. And I currently have healthcare. I have the best healthcare I've ever had. My private plan is subsidized by the Commonwealth. I choose it through a government run insurance option program known as Commonwealth Care. I had my choice of 4 possible plans priced based on my income. I kept my doctor and now enjoy the lower co-payments and more coverage in case of disaster. I'm happy with my quality of care.
Now I ask you...what good to society would I have been if I'd been having constant attacks and taking off weeks of work at a time? Under those health conditions, how was I supposed to be competitive in the workplace and advance my career? Is that the free market at work? Rewarding the hard work of people who go work for at or near below minimum wage, despite health conditions that they tolerate but may someday catch up and force them into the emergency room?
I have a new job. When I got my insurance, I was able to refocus my life, no longer fearing day to day panics or loss of conciousness. I have a new job, make more money and am now going under review for changes to my benefits according to my new income level. If I can afford to pay more, I gladly will. Because that could be any of us someday. And no one who is willing to work should be denied the right to work because they're too sick for health care.
I have no specific political message here. If you want to have that discussion, e-mail me or pull me aside one day. I'd love to chat. But I will say this: I don't think the CoLab would exist today if not for our system of de facto universal healthcare.
Stay Healthy
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Some Professional Advice
So today the Co-Lab received it's first e-mail from a local actor who's newish in town for some professional advice. How flattering! And nerve wracking!
Because of the nature of the question we decided it best to answer the actor privately and individually, and so I did. I felt like I could give a very well informed but impartial opinion on the question and was pretty thorough in my answer. I felt good about the advice I gave.
I mean giving advice isn't all that new to me personally. Of course I can advise friends and family when called upon. And I've occasionally been known to offer my two cents unsolicited ;-) (not always my best trait...some may say I'm....opinionated), but this was different.
Something about the idea of giving advice to someone in the scope of being professional and not personal was very different to me. It laid a different kind of responsibility on me. I still had to be true to my thoughts on the matter and make sure this person knew it was only my opinion, but I also had to make sure to maintain some distance and impartiality. What an interesting dichotomy.
The whole experience left me feeling very grown up. But it also reminded me of who I am. I am a working theatre professional in Boston! And I am a grown up. And apparently one worthy of being asked for advice. And that's kind of awesome.
Because of the nature of the question we decided it best to answer the actor privately and individually, and so I did. I felt like I could give a very well informed but impartial opinion on the question and was pretty thorough in my answer. I felt good about the advice I gave.
I mean giving advice isn't all that new to me personally. Of course I can advise friends and family when called upon. And I've occasionally been known to offer my two cents unsolicited ;-) (not always my best trait...some may say I'm....opinionated), but this was different.
Something about the idea of giving advice to someone in the scope of being professional and not personal was very different to me. It laid a different kind of responsibility on me. I still had to be true to my thoughts on the matter and make sure this person knew it was only my opinion, but I also had to make sure to maintain some distance and impartiality. What an interesting dichotomy.
The whole experience left me feeling very grown up. But it also reminded me of who I am. I am a working theatre professional in Boston! And I am a grown up. And apparently one worthy of being asked for advice. And that's kind of awesome.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Spring Cleaning and A Lesson In Comedic Timing
So a month ago, Punxsutawney Phil woke up, saw the the crappy weather outside and decided to get six more weeks of beauty sleep before Spring starts. Well, good for Phil, but the rest of us have lives to lead, so I started my spring cleaning last week. (Side note: the Channel Five weatherman yesterday said that March 1 is the first day of the meteorological spring. That's all great but sometimes I think I'd rather listen to a groundhog than the weathermen - BUT MOVING ON!) I replaced the following things in my life: toothbrush, work shoes, running shoes, my eating habits, my work out routine and the sheets on my bed. And I FEEL SO MUCH BETTER about life right now. I'm feeling cleansed (I haven't quite gotten to the part where I clean my room, but all in due time friends, all in due time) and healthier. I really suggest making some little changes - the feng shui of your brain will thank you. Now I just have to finish memorizing this monologue for our Audition Workshop on March 20th where there are still spots left. What? Oh, yes, SIGN UP KIDS! There are spots left!
Also, my roommates and I have become obsessed with this commercial. I think that it's a phenomenal lesson in comedic timing. This guy is SPOT ON in his delivery. I've got to go work a double shift now - I'll be thinking about the commerical guy when the two old ladies who sit in my section ask to split a lunch size salad with two waters! Enjoy the day!
Also, my roommates and I have become obsessed with this commercial. I think that it's a phenomenal lesson in comedic timing. This guy is SPOT ON in his delivery. I've got to go work a double shift now - I'll be thinking about the commerical guy when the two old ladies who sit in my section ask to split a lunch size salad with two waters! Enjoy the day!
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