Time: November 16, 2007
So, I just signed an exclusive contract with Cunningham, Escott,Slevin and Doherty or CESD. I've been meeting with several of the top commercial agencies over the past couple of weeks, and although it was a tough decision, I truly feel that CESD is the agency for me. The on-camera agents, Adrienne, Dedra and David are professional, fun and friendly, and it's obvious that they know the business. CESD has a strong presence on both coasts, so when I'm in NYC working on a film or a play, I can keep on auditioning.
I started my acting career doing TV commercials, and I've always enjoyed them. I can still remember the first acting class I took in Houston, Texas. I was 10 years old and Lee Duran, my acting teacher, handed me a piece of paper. On it were the words to the Oscar Mayer jingle we all now know and love. The song that taught kids and adults around the country the proper spelling of that funny smelling circular piece of meat often found slapped between two pieces of white bread and slathered with mayo and mustard:
"Myyyy bologna has a first name, it's O-S-C-A-R.
My bologna has a second name, it's M-A-Y-E-R.
Oooooohh I love to eat it every day
And if you ask me why I'll saaaaaaaaaaaaay
Cuz...
Oscar Mayer has a way with B-O-L-O-G-N-A!"
(Applause)
I remember how much fun I had in that class. Acting should always be that fun.
I worked on several commercials as a teenager and in college, but while in Paris and NYC, I decided to take a break from actively auditioning for them. I needed time to be fully immersed in my process work and that required me to back away from the smiley, lighthearted acting many commercials call for. Over the years I've learned that although commercial acting, film acting and acting for the stage each call for a very different set of of skills, all them, ideally, are based in truth.
It's kind of like speaking different languages... When in France, you speak French. When in Spain, you speak Spanish. But in either country, you still have to listen to what the other person is saying to respond truthfully. You still have to speak clearly to be understood.
Right after signing my contract, I got my L.A. Casting account up and running by going to the office and scanning in my headshot. Much to my surprise I received an email two days later notifying me of first L.A. audition the following day. Nice! I know that commercial auditions are a numbers game, so I hope to be going out very often. I'll keep you posted!
I Gotta Write about the STRIKE
Time: November 11th, 2007
So I'd planned to continue to go back in time and write about my past experiences as an actor in NYC but I'm taking a detour today. A detour to the present day, that is. You see, I just moved to Los Angeles last week and I've been settling into my new home in the Los Feliz/Silverlake area. I love, love, love the neighborhood -- The Trader Joe's on the corner, La Parilla Mexican restaurant down the road, and the Spaceland music bar a mile away. And to have Griffith Park mere seconds away, equipped with tennis courts, a merry-go-round, a golf course and even a little roller coaster is really more than a girl can ask for! The vibe reminds me of the oh-so-great Austin, where I grew up, and I can definitely see myself staying in my awesome, spacious, rent controlled apartment for a long, long time.
So, let's get down to it. As you've probably already heard, there's a strike going on. The Writer's Guild of America (WGA) began to strike on November 5, 2007 and who knows how long it'll last. Many say that it could last months which would then lead to a SAG strike in the Spring. Yep. Not surprisingly, the first thing many people say to me, a spanking new Los Angeleno actor, is: "What a terrible time to move to the city."
Well, that's one way to look at it. But I choose to look at it differently. I see this time as an opportunity. An opportunity to get acclimated to the city before I start driving to several auditions a day. An opportunity to find a great scene study class where I can keep my skills honed and meet fellow actors. An opportunity to support my fellow artists that are standing on the pickets lines, peaceably fighting for better, fairer wages. Because that's really the long and short of it (or maybe just the short of it.)
The WGA is just fighting for their piece of the "new media" pie. They're standing up for themselves, their families, and every writer,actor, and artist that will come after them, and I applaud and support their efforts wholeheartedly. It takes a lot of guts to have courage in your convictions. Some of the showrunners (people that double as writers and producers) are even being threatened with lawsuits unless they get back to work, but they're standing next to their brethren fighting the good fight. For the sake of all parties involved, I'm hoping that the writers and producers can come to an equitable agreement in the very near future.
That said, so what if I won't be going out much, if at all, this pilot season. I'm here for the marathon, not the sprint, and I know that this is just part of the journey.
So I'd like to dedicate this blog entry to the WGA members on strike. Keep the faith!! I'm rooting for you!
So I'd planned to continue to go back in time and write about my past experiences as an actor in NYC but I'm taking a detour today. A detour to the present day, that is. You see, I just moved to Los Angeles last week and I've been settling into my new home in the Los Feliz/Silverlake area. I love, love, love the neighborhood -- The Trader Joe's on the corner, La Parilla Mexican restaurant down the road, and the Spaceland music bar a mile away. And to have Griffith Park mere seconds away, equipped with tennis courts, a merry-go-round, a golf course and even a little roller coaster is really more than a girl can ask for! The vibe reminds me of the oh-so-great Austin, where I grew up, and I can definitely see myself staying in my awesome, spacious, rent controlled apartment for a long, long time.
So, let's get down to it. As you've probably already heard, there's a strike going on. The Writer's Guild of America (WGA) began to strike on November 5, 2007 and who knows how long it'll last. Many say that it could last months which would then lead to a SAG strike in the Spring. Yep. Not surprisingly, the first thing many people say to me, a spanking new Los Angeleno actor, is: "What a terrible time to move to the city."
Well, that's one way to look at it. But I choose to look at it differently. I see this time as an opportunity. An opportunity to get acclimated to the city before I start driving to several auditions a day. An opportunity to find a great scene study class where I can keep my skills honed and meet fellow actors. An opportunity to support my fellow artists that are standing on the pickets lines, peaceably fighting for better, fairer wages. Because that's really the long and short of it (or maybe just the short of it.)
The WGA is just fighting for their piece of the "new media" pie. They're standing up for themselves, their families, and every writer,actor, and artist that will come after them, and I applaud and support their efforts wholeheartedly. It takes a lot of guts to have courage in your convictions. Some of the showrunners (people that double as writers and producers) are even being threatened with lawsuits unless they get back to work, but they're standing next to their brethren fighting the good fight. For the sake of all parties involved, I'm hoping that the writers and producers can come to an equitable agreement in the very near future.
That said, so what if I won't be going out much, if at all, this pilot season. I'm here for the marathon, not the sprint, and I know that this is just part of the journey.
So I'd like to dedicate this blog entry to the WGA members on strike. Keep the faith!! I'm rooting for you!
I'm a Little Superstitious: PART DEUX
Time: August 25, 2007
So about that superstitiousness... I just got cast in a feature that will remain nameless. It will remain nameless because I've learned that nothing in this business is ever certain. Just because you're cast in film doesn't mean the film will ever be made. Just because you film a role in a movie, it doesn't mean you won't end up on the cutting room floor. Just because you're told a movie/commercial/TV show will air on a certain date, doesn't mean it will, even if you've told all your family members, friends and family members' friends to tune in at such and such time. You just never know.
On the flip side, movies you thought would never see the light of day might be seen by millions. Commercials you thought would air for a season might air for years. A role that starts out small might be expanded. There are so many factors out of our control that it would be crazy to try to forsee the future. So, I figure, the only thing I can do is bring my most positive, professional, prepared, generous self to each project and after it's completed, move on and let the chips fall where they may.
To be honest, I'm really excited about this "Film That Shall Not Be Named." I love the story, I love my role and I very much hope that we'll start filming in October or November as planned. All I can do, however, is keep moving forward, keep planning the move to L.A. and keep opening myself up to other opportunities. Because, you just never know.
So about that superstitiousness... I just got cast in a feature that will remain nameless. It will remain nameless because I've learned that nothing in this business is ever certain. Just because you're cast in film doesn't mean the film will ever be made. Just because you film a role in a movie, it doesn't mean you won't end up on the cutting room floor. Just because you're told a movie/commercial/TV show will air on a certain date, doesn't mean it will, even if you've told all your family members, friends and family members' friends to tune in at such and such time. You just never know.
On the flip side, movies you thought would never see the light of day might be seen by millions. Commercials you thought would air for a season might air for years. A role that starts out small might be expanded. There are so many factors out of our control that it would be crazy to try to forsee the future. So, I figure, the only thing I can do is bring my most positive, professional, prepared, generous self to each project and after it's completed, move on and let the chips fall where they may.
To be honest, I'm really excited about this "Film That Shall Not Be Named." I love the story, I love my role and I very much hope that we'll start filming in October or November as planned. All I can do, however, is keep moving forward, keep planning the move to L.A. and keep opening myself up to other opportunities. Because, you just never know.
I'm a Little Superstitious: PART UN
Time: August 2007
I was just cast in a SAG feature film today. It's a great role really, and it's strange, how it all came about. You see, I'm moving to Los Angeles in a mere 9 weeks, so since finishing Esper and wrapping "Bronx Paradise" in June, I've been focusing my energies on making some cold hard cash. I'm going to need a lot of it to:
A. Move all my stuff from one end of the country to the other
B. Pay for my comfy pad (Ist month's rent/deposit/etc.) in a great neighborhood, preferably Silverlake or Los Feliz
C. Invest in some new marketing materials (i.e. headshots, postcards, business cards, etc.)
D. Finance the wheels that will get me, safely, from one destination to another in said city
E. Pay for an acting class and/or private coach soon after getting settled
F. Eat three square meals a day
That said, when an audition comes along, I gladly take it. And this summer, a couple of nice auditions have definitely come along. It's all been very Zen in the Art of Archery-like. When you're not focused on something, consciously... it happens. You know, like when you're trying to remember the last name of the guy you went to homecoming with, and try as you might, you just can't seem to think of it, even after using the "Alphabet Method" where you slowly go through every letter of the alphabet hoping it will jog your memory.
But only when you're chillin' out, completely absorbed in the new "Pushing Daisies," episode guest starring Paul Reubens in the role of a sewer dwelling smell-o-maniac, does it comes to you, like a bee to honey, causing you to exclaim, victoriously, "Blackshear!!!"... which of course causes the person with whom you are watching the said show to look at you with momentary surprise, only to return their attention back to the more entertaining story unfolding on the TV.
But I digress.
The first, most memorable audition, comes when I'm called in to read for Bob Lambert, a casting director for "All My Children." I get a call from him on Tuesday, which is followed up by an email with a four page scene attached that I will then use for my audition the following day. Pretty fast turnaround. But hey, I figured, this IS a soap opera audition and soap actors are expected to be able to memorize dozens of pages per episode. So in comparison, this is a piece of cake, so of course I'll be off-book by manana por la manana. (Tommorow morning, sans the squiggly things over the "N"s)
So, I walk to the ABC building on 66th Street near the Westside Highway, and I'm feeling pretty good. I feel confident in my preparation, rested, and relaxed. I'm not obsessing about the outcome, I'm just thinking "Hey, it's pretty cool I got called in from a self-submission. Let me go in there and do my thing, and just have fun with it."
I don't spend much time thinking about what it would be like if I got the role, but rather, I choose to focus on the present moment. So instead of feeling anxious and fearful, I just feel calm and energized. I listen to the what Bob has to say about my character, and adjust my choices based on the new information I've been given. Bob's a great partner, so it's easy to work off what he's giving me, while staying grounded in my character.
The audition was a ball, in and of itself. I'd come and done what I'd set out to do, which was to have fun, while being open, truthful and present. Fortunately, as it turns out, that positive audition experience led to my 7 episode stint as Nurse Margie on "All My Children." Over my seven summer days on the AMC set, I was fortunate enough to work with Cameron Mathison, Alicia Minishew (an Esper grad, I discovered) and Susan Lucci. Actually it was my first foray into American TV, and it's been real. And, I'd like to thank Bob for giving me the opportunity and the cast for helping make my experience a positive and memorable one. Thank you.
Next stop: prime time.
I was just cast in a SAG feature film today. It's a great role really, and it's strange, how it all came about. You see, I'm moving to Los Angeles in a mere 9 weeks, so since finishing Esper and wrapping "Bronx Paradise" in June, I've been focusing my energies on making some cold hard cash. I'm going to need a lot of it to:
A. Move all my stuff from one end of the country to the other
B. Pay for my comfy pad (Ist month's rent/deposit/etc.) in a great neighborhood, preferably Silverlake or Los Feliz
C. Invest in some new marketing materials (i.e. headshots, postcards, business cards, etc.)
D. Finance the wheels that will get me, safely, from one destination to another in said city
E. Pay for an acting class and/or private coach soon after getting settled
F. Eat three square meals a day
That said, when an audition comes along, I gladly take it. And this summer, a couple of nice auditions have definitely come along. It's all been very Zen in the Art of Archery-like. When you're not focused on something, consciously... it happens. You know, like when you're trying to remember the last name of the guy you went to homecoming with, and try as you might, you just can't seem to think of it, even after using the "Alphabet Method" where you slowly go through every letter of the alphabet hoping it will jog your memory.
But only when you're chillin' out, completely absorbed in the new "Pushing Daisies," episode guest starring Paul Reubens in the role of a sewer dwelling smell-o-maniac, does it comes to you, like a bee to honey, causing you to exclaim, victoriously, "Blackshear!!!"... which of course causes the person with whom you are watching the said show to look at you with momentary surprise, only to return their attention back to the more entertaining story unfolding on the TV.
But I digress.
The first, most memorable audition, comes when I'm called in to read for Bob Lambert, a casting director for "All My Children." I get a call from him on Tuesday, which is followed up by an email with a four page scene attached that I will then use for my audition the following day. Pretty fast turnaround. But hey, I figured, this IS a soap opera audition and soap actors are expected to be able to memorize dozens of pages per episode. So in comparison, this is a piece of cake, so of course I'll be off-book by manana por la manana. (Tommorow morning, sans the squiggly things over the "N"s)
So, I walk to the ABC building on 66th Street near the Westside Highway, and I'm feeling pretty good. I feel confident in my preparation, rested, and relaxed. I'm not obsessing about the outcome, I'm just thinking "Hey, it's pretty cool I got called in from a self-submission. Let me go in there and do my thing, and just have fun with it."
I don't spend much time thinking about what it would be like if I got the role, but rather, I choose to focus on the present moment. So instead of feeling anxious and fearful, I just feel calm and energized. I listen to the what Bob has to say about my character, and adjust my choices based on the new information I've been given. Bob's a great partner, so it's easy to work off what he's giving me, while staying grounded in my character.
The audition was a ball, in and of itself. I'd come and done what I'd set out to do, which was to have fun, while being open, truthful and present. Fortunately, as it turns out, that positive audition experience led to my 7 episode stint as Nurse Margie on "All My Children." Over my seven summer days on the AMC set, I was fortunate enough to work with Cameron Mathison, Alicia Minishew (an Esper grad, I discovered) and Susan Lucci. Actually it was my first foray into American TV, and it's been real. And, I'd like to thank Bob for giving me the opportunity and the cast for helping make my experience a positive and memorable one. Thank you.
Next stop: prime time.
It's funny how things work out sometimes...
Time: July 2007
So, remember when I told you about "The Interview." That one-woman show I wrote and entered into the NY International Fringe Festival, also known as the Fringe Fest? I didn't get in.
Actually I got waitlisted and after the wait was over, they sent me a lovely letter stuffed with a list of Fringe Fest plays and ten free tickets to the shows of my choice. I thought that was pretty cool, a classy gesture. And hey, I figured, the free tickets more than pay for my registration fee.
I was pretty bummed that I didn't get in, because I'd really envisioned myself up on a stage, performing the monologues. I could see it, as if my 'World Premiere' at the NY International Fringe Fest' had already happened. But, as it turns out, this particular festival wasn't going to happen, so I moved on.
Anyways, I'm going on about my business, enjoying New York City in the summer. You just can't beat New York on a breezy summer day. There's an energy in the streets that can't be matched and unlike in other, milder climates, New Yorkers don't take a beautiful day for granted. We eat lunch outside, we walk rather than taking the subway, we splurge on a five dollar black and white shake from Shake Shack because we're so freaking happy that the weather's so nice that we feel the need to celebrate.
So, I'm enjoying one of those days when I get a phone call. It's Robert Galinsky and he's asking if I'd like to perform in the next month's Manhattan Monologue Slam.
I hesitate for a moment because it's always kind of scary to put yourself out there. Ultimately, however, my love to perform won over my fear of failure.
'Sure!," I chirp, like the birds around me.
The MM Slam, organized by Robert and Philip Galinsky and produced by one of "Spring Awakening's" producers, always draws a crowd. It was even voted 'Best Open Mic Night in NYC' by Backstage Magazine even though it's not really an Open Mic Night.
Anyhoo, on the first Monday of every month, people crowd into the Bowery Poetry Club in Manhattan's Lower East Side, prepared to be entertained.
The show is composed of two sets. The first set stars eight actors, each performing a three minute monologue of their choice. Some of the material is original, some not, some comedy, others drama. It's a a great way for we as actors, to get on stage and perform in front of a live audience. And for me, it held an even greater significance. It would be the World Premiere of one of my monologues from "The Interview." I would be performing my material on stage for the first time, and to make it even scarier, a industry panel would be judging me.
Eek.
I can't say I wasn't nervous. I can't say I wasn't thinking -- "What if they hate my writing? What if they hate my acting." Because I was. But I knew I that I had to put myself out there regardless of the results. Before I went out on stage, I prayed the prayer I always pray before auditioning or performing. "Please God, help me be free and open, and help me honor the truth of the moment and of the character." And with that, I walked out as Candice, "The Beauty Queen" and began my monologue.
It was so liberating to write and perform my own work. Even before I got the comments and scores from the judges, I felt like a success. I had overcome fear, rejection and self-doubt to get to that stage, and I knew that with each of these little victories, I was becoming stronger and more resilient. And, as it turns out, the judges and the audience enjoyed the monologue. It felt great to hear that the piece spoke to different people in different ways based upon their varied experiences. I'd created something that would hopefully have a life of its own, and now I feel motivated to create more.
'The Interview' will be performed someday, in its entirety. I don't know when, I don't know where, but when I find out, you'll be the first to know.
And,now that you know the story, I'd thought I'd share with you the video from that night's performance.
Take care!
So, remember when I told you about "The Interview." That one-woman show I wrote and entered into the NY International Fringe Festival, also known as the Fringe Fest? I didn't get in.
Actually I got waitlisted and after the wait was over, they sent me a lovely letter stuffed with a list of Fringe Fest plays and ten free tickets to the shows of my choice. I thought that was pretty cool, a classy gesture. And hey, I figured, the free tickets more than pay for my registration fee.
I was pretty bummed that I didn't get in, because I'd really envisioned myself up on a stage, performing the monologues. I could see it, as if my 'World Premiere' at the NY International Fringe Fest' had already happened. But, as it turns out, this particular festival wasn't going to happen, so I moved on.
Anyways, I'm going on about my business, enjoying New York City in the summer. You just can't beat New York on a breezy summer day. There's an energy in the streets that can't be matched and unlike in other, milder climates, New Yorkers don't take a beautiful day for granted. We eat lunch outside, we walk rather than taking the subway, we splurge on a five dollar black and white shake from Shake Shack because we're so freaking happy that the weather's so nice that we feel the need to celebrate.
So, I'm enjoying one of those days when I get a phone call. It's Robert Galinsky and he's asking if I'd like to perform in the next month's Manhattan Monologue Slam.
I hesitate for a moment because it's always kind of scary to put yourself out there. Ultimately, however, my love to perform won over my fear of failure.
'Sure!," I chirp, like the birds around me.
The MM Slam, organized by Robert and Philip Galinsky and produced by one of "Spring Awakening's" producers, always draws a crowd. It was even voted 'Best Open Mic Night in NYC' by Backstage Magazine even though it's not really an Open Mic Night.
Anyhoo, on the first Monday of every month, people crowd into the Bowery Poetry Club in Manhattan's Lower East Side, prepared to be entertained.
The show is composed of two sets. The first set stars eight actors, each performing a three minute monologue of their choice. Some of the material is original, some not, some comedy, others drama. It's a a great way for we as actors, to get on stage and perform in front of a live audience. And for me, it held an even greater significance. It would be the World Premiere of one of my monologues from "The Interview." I would be performing my material on stage for the first time, and to make it even scarier, a industry panel would be judging me.
Eek.
I can't say I wasn't nervous. I can't say I wasn't thinking -- "What if they hate my writing? What if they hate my acting." Because I was. But I knew I that I had to put myself out there regardless of the results. Before I went out on stage, I prayed the prayer I always pray before auditioning or performing. "Please God, help me be free and open, and help me honor the truth of the moment and of the character." And with that, I walked out as Candice, "The Beauty Queen" and began my monologue.
It was so liberating to write and perform my own work. Even before I got the comments and scores from the judges, I felt like a success. I had overcome fear, rejection and self-doubt to get to that stage, and I knew that with each of these little victories, I was becoming stronger and more resilient. And, as it turns out, the judges and the audience enjoyed the monologue. It felt great to hear that the piece spoke to different people in different ways based upon their varied experiences. I'd created something that would hopefully have a life of its own, and now I feel motivated to create more.
'The Interview' will be performed someday, in its entirety. I don't know when, I don't know where, but when I find out, you'll be the first to know.
And,now that you know the story, I'd thought I'd share with you the video from that night's performance.
Take care!
I Resolve to...
Time: January 1, 2007
It's that time of the year again. Time to assess the highs and lows of the past year and make plans for the new one. I love new beginnings. I always have. A new school year, a new week, a new day, a new class. The blank page is so exciting, my imagination and dreams cover it with words and images.
It's the New Year and I've got a feeling this year's going to great. Hanging out with my family in Austin, Galveston and Temple has been a blast. Mom's home cooking, I sure have missed you. I feel safe and secure, and buoyed by the fact that I've created something that I'm proud of. A few weeks ago, I penned "The Interview", a series of nine monologues in which nine New Yorkers are asked the common questions of an interview process. Their answers, however, are anything but common. Each respond, in truth, their truth. Initially, I'd envisioned each monologue being performed by different people. Five women, four men of various ethnicities, backgrounds and experiences. But as I perform it for my family, in the comfort of warm living rooms and supportive eyes, I begin to open myself up to other possibilities. That said, when my dad suggests that I perform all the monologues together, as a one-woman show, I don't balk at the idea. I embrace it, tentatively at first, then more confidently. "Yes!" I say to the proposition. Why not?
I've always enjoyed writing but I've never considered myself a writer. I've always been the type to write when I HAD to. When my emotions are struggling to burst free and the only way I can express myself is to take pen to paper. But unlike acting, where the playwright/screenwriter decides your parameters, writing gives me freedom to set my own. To scream on paper, to whisper, to rant. I'm an actor, yes. But I've discovered that I don't have to be one thing, I can be many. An artist, an actor, an actress, a writer, a poet, and God knows what else... Why limit yourself by staying confined to your self-made playpen when there's more out there for you than you can ever imagine.
Writing "The Interview" was a liberating experience in many ways. Now that I've learned what type of actor I am, I also know what kind of material speaks to me. Complex, raw, human, truthful writing where the soul is exposed even if you try to hide behind a mask. I wrote and will continue to write material I want to perform, and I've decided to enter the series into The NY International Fringe Festival. The deadline's February 15th, 2007. I've already downloaded and printed out my application, copywrighted my piece with the Library of Congress and started on revisions. Who knows what this year has in store for me, but one things for sure, I'm going take risks and "go forth confidently towards my dreams."
It's that time of the year again. Time to assess the highs and lows of the past year and make plans for the new one. I love new beginnings. I always have. A new school year, a new week, a new day, a new class. The blank page is so exciting, my imagination and dreams cover it with words and images.
It's the New Year and I've got a feeling this year's going to great. Hanging out with my family in Austin, Galveston and Temple has been a blast. Mom's home cooking, I sure have missed you. I feel safe and secure, and buoyed by the fact that I've created something that I'm proud of. A few weeks ago, I penned "The Interview", a series of nine monologues in which nine New Yorkers are asked the common questions of an interview process. Their answers, however, are anything but common. Each respond, in truth, their truth. Initially, I'd envisioned each monologue being performed by different people. Five women, four men of various ethnicities, backgrounds and experiences. But as I perform it for my family, in the comfort of warm living rooms and supportive eyes, I begin to open myself up to other possibilities. That said, when my dad suggests that I perform all the monologues together, as a one-woman show, I don't balk at the idea. I embrace it, tentatively at first, then more confidently. "Yes!" I say to the proposition. Why not?
I've always enjoyed writing but I've never considered myself a writer. I've always been the type to write when I HAD to. When my emotions are struggling to burst free and the only way I can express myself is to take pen to paper. But unlike acting, where the playwright/screenwriter decides your parameters, writing gives me freedom to set my own. To scream on paper, to whisper, to rant. I'm an actor, yes. But I've discovered that I don't have to be one thing, I can be many. An artist, an actor, an actress, a writer, a poet, and God knows what else... Why limit yourself by staying confined to your self-made playpen when there's more out there for you than you can ever imagine.
Writing "The Interview" was a liberating experience in many ways. Now that I've learned what type of actor I am, I also know what kind of material speaks to me. Complex, raw, human, truthful writing where the soul is exposed even if you try to hide behind a mask. I wrote and will continue to write material I want to perform, and I've decided to enter the series into The NY International Fringe Festival. The deadline's February 15th, 2007. I've already downloaded and printed out my application, copywrighted my piece with the Library of Congress and started on revisions. Who knows what this year has in store for me, but one things for sure, I'm going take risks and "go forth confidently towards my dreams."
The Exorcism
Time: December 2006
So I've been living with this woman named Vera for the past month and a half. She's really amazing and all and I'm really happy to have gotten to know her so well, but, well, the truth is, I'm ready for her to move out. I just want my "me" time again, and this apartment is way too small for the both of us.
You see, she just saw her first love Floyd for the first time in two years after he'd left her for a woman my Mom would describe as "fast." She's all bent outta shape over seeing him again, and although she's tried to cover her feelings and act all thick-skined and stuff, it's obvious that that man wripped her heart right in two. It's hard living with her, though, because, honestly, her drama is stirring up all sorts of old feelings in me. Feelings about the past that I thought I'd left behind, that I guess just lay sleeping in a place deep, deep inside me. But living with Vera has made the past come to the present, anxious to get out and be dealt with once and for all.
As part of my second year Meisner class, I was cast as "Vera" in a scene from the play Seven Guitars by August Wilson. I feel so blessed to have been introduced to this character and I've done my best to honor her and Mr. Wilson by breathing my breath into her and inhabiting the role as best as I know how. But, I'm not going to lie. It's been hard. My heart breaks every time I read the scene, every time I rehearse with my partner Jerry "Floyd" Baxtron Jr., every time I perform. It hurts like heartbreak hurts and I'm been carrying around Vera's sadness and my own for the past six weeks, so much so that it's hard to distinguish the two. So, Vera, we've performed together for the last time, and now it's time to let you go. It's been real. I'll always remember you, I'll always carry a piece of you with me, 'cause you reawakened in me that which I didn't know dwelt deep inside. But now it's time to go. One last cry, one last wail, one last time, so I can just be...
(Deep sigh...) I lay my head on the pillow, I close my eyes. Not to sleep, just to be. And in the stillness, it comes to me. An idea, like a butterfly on the tip of my nose that will fly away unless I cup it in my hands. I cup it in my hands. I take pen to paper and I write. One monologue. Two. Three. Nine. "The Interview" I call it. Nine people. Nine truths. Pen down. Head down. Sleep comes.
So I've been living with this woman named Vera for the past month and a half. She's really amazing and all and I'm really happy to have gotten to know her so well, but, well, the truth is, I'm ready for her to move out. I just want my "me" time again, and this apartment is way too small for the both of us.
You see, she just saw her first love Floyd for the first time in two years after he'd left her for a woman my Mom would describe as "fast." She's all bent outta shape over seeing him again, and although she's tried to cover her feelings and act all thick-skined and stuff, it's obvious that that man wripped her heart right in two. It's hard living with her, though, because, honestly, her drama is stirring up all sorts of old feelings in me. Feelings about the past that I thought I'd left behind, that I guess just lay sleeping in a place deep, deep inside me. But living with Vera has made the past come to the present, anxious to get out and be dealt with once and for all.
As part of my second year Meisner class, I was cast as "Vera" in a scene from the play Seven Guitars by August Wilson. I feel so blessed to have been introduced to this character and I've done my best to honor her and Mr. Wilson by breathing my breath into her and inhabiting the role as best as I know how. But, I'm not going to lie. It's been hard. My heart breaks every time I read the scene, every time I rehearse with my partner Jerry "Floyd" Baxtron Jr., every time I perform. It hurts like heartbreak hurts and I'm been carrying around Vera's sadness and my own for the past six weeks, so much so that it's hard to distinguish the two. So, Vera, we've performed together for the last time, and now it's time to let you go. It's been real. I'll always remember you, I'll always carry a piece of you with me, 'cause you reawakened in me that which I didn't know dwelt deep inside. But now it's time to go. One last cry, one last wail, one last time, so I can just be...
(Deep sigh...) I lay my head on the pillow, I close my eyes. Not to sleep, just to be. And in the stillness, it comes to me. An idea, like a butterfly on the tip of my nose that will fly away unless I cup it in my hands. I cup it in my hands. I take pen to paper and I write. One monologue. Two. Three. Nine. "The Interview" I call it. Nine people. Nine truths. Pen down. Head down. Sleep comes.
The Debut that Never Was
Time: January 2006
So I did it! I've been cast in my very first New York, Off-Off Broadway play! To tell you the truth, I was surprised I even got called in to audition. I only had one more day of filming "LE MAITRE DU ZODIAQUE" at the end of December so even though I didn't think I had enough theater experience to read for a Shepard play, I submitted my headshot and resume anyway. I always say, "Don't reject yourself for roles, because you never know."
At the first audition, I performed a 3-minute dramatic narrative monologue from the movie "Eve's Bayou." Of course, I didn't say it was from a film, and I don't know if it would even have mattered if I did, but I felt it was great monologue for me and I enjoyed working on it. The first time I did the piece, I felt good about it but the director called for more volume, more vocal strength. This, of course, was a theater audition, while I was used to film auditions.
Note to self: Research voice classes when I get home.
The second time was better, vocally, and good enough to get me a spot at the callbacks the following day.
This time, I read directly from the play for the roles of Sally and Beth, the two young female leads in "A Lie of the Mind." The callback was interesting because, unlike in most auditions, we got to see other people audition. Thankfully, at my particular time slot, no one was reading for the roles I was reading for. So I read for Beth, I read for Sally and I go home really wanting the Beth role. Beth's the delicate brain-damaged young woman whose condition was caused by being beaten by her jealous husband. As an actor, it was a role I could sink my teeth into, and the role of Sally seemed less challenging in comparison.
Fast forward two days. Phone rings. It's the Casting Director/Artistic Director of the black box theater where the play will be performed. I'm invited to a second callback. For what role?
Sally.
OK, that's cool. (Snapping fingers in disappointment.) But, I'm still excited. Immediately after I get off the phone, I pick up my copy of the play that I'd purchased at The Drama Book Shop, and read it again, this time focusing on the role of Sally.
Oh wow. This could be really fun. After the second read I realize I'd underestimated the role of Sally, and that it could be just as rewarding, if not more so, than Beth's character.
The second callback goes great and I feel very right for the role, but I wonder how the rest of the family looks. I understand that this is a play about families and that in casting, how realistic a family looks/sounds together is very important to the process. I figured all I could do is my best, and leave the choosing to the powers that be.
So...let's cut to the chase.
I was offered the part of Sally, accepted the role and was scheduled to do a table read the following week. After the holidays we jumped into an intensive rehearsal schedule and I began to work with actors that had a lot more experience in the theatre than I'd had. I wish I could say the same thing about everyone's level of commitment.
Sadly, soon after rehearsals began, things started falling apart. The girl that was cast as Beth wasn't showing up for rehearsals. The guy who played Frankie was notoriously late. The Equity papers hadn't been properly filed. Our rehearsals in the theatre were cut short due to scheduling issues. And the final straw -- The guy who played Jake dropped out a week before the show was scheduled to open. (Shaking my head.) After this unfortunate chain of events, the show was cancelled a few days before opening night.
Needless to say, it was quite an experience, and my well-worn copy of "A Lie of the Mind" still sits on my bookshelf. I don't know if I'll ever get to perform the role of Sally again, but through my hours of rehearsal, through the good and bad, I learned a lot of important lessons:
1. Be on time.
2. Be prepared.
3. Be a team player.
4. Communicate with your fellow castmates.
5. Nothing's ever certain.
Although I was disappointed at the outcome, I can walk away with no regrets because I know that I gave my all to the project. And hey, I guess it wasn't meant to be... there are better things in store for me. You see, I've just started my acting program at Esper Studio and now I can devote all my energy to my training.
So I did it! I've been cast in my very first New York, Off-Off Broadway play! To tell you the truth, I was surprised I even got called in to audition. I only had one more day of filming "LE MAITRE DU ZODIAQUE" at the end of December so even though I didn't think I had enough theater experience to read for a Shepard play, I submitted my headshot and resume anyway. I always say, "Don't reject yourself for roles, because you never know."
At the first audition, I performed a 3-minute dramatic narrative monologue from the movie "Eve's Bayou." Of course, I didn't say it was from a film, and I don't know if it would even have mattered if I did, but I felt it was great monologue for me and I enjoyed working on it. The first time I did the piece, I felt good about it but the director called for more volume, more vocal strength. This, of course, was a theater audition, while I was used to film auditions.
Note to self: Research voice classes when I get home.
The second time was better, vocally, and good enough to get me a spot at the callbacks the following day.
This time, I read directly from the play for the roles of Sally and Beth, the two young female leads in "A Lie of the Mind." The callback was interesting because, unlike in most auditions, we got to see other people audition. Thankfully, at my particular time slot, no one was reading for the roles I was reading for. So I read for Beth, I read for Sally and I go home really wanting the Beth role. Beth's the delicate brain-damaged young woman whose condition was caused by being beaten by her jealous husband. As an actor, it was a role I could sink my teeth into, and the role of Sally seemed less challenging in comparison.
Fast forward two days. Phone rings. It's the Casting Director/Artistic Director of the black box theater where the play will be performed. I'm invited to a second callback. For what role?
Sally.
OK, that's cool. (Snapping fingers in disappointment.) But, I'm still excited. Immediately after I get off the phone, I pick up my copy of the play that I'd purchased at The Drama Book Shop, and read it again, this time focusing on the role of Sally.
Oh wow. This could be really fun. After the second read I realize I'd underestimated the role of Sally, and that it could be just as rewarding, if not more so, than Beth's character.
The second callback goes great and I feel very right for the role, but I wonder how the rest of the family looks. I understand that this is a play about families and that in casting, how realistic a family looks/sounds together is very important to the process. I figured all I could do is my best, and leave the choosing to the powers that be.
So...let's cut to the chase.
I was offered the part of Sally, accepted the role and was scheduled to do a table read the following week. After the holidays we jumped into an intensive rehearsal schedule and I began to work with actors that had a lot more experience in the theatre than I'd had. I wish I could say the same thing about everyone's level of commitment.
Sadly, soon after rehearsals began, things started falling apart. The girl that was cast as Beth wasn't showing up for rehearsals. The guy who played Frankie was notoriously late. The Equity papers hadn't been properly filed. Our rehearsals in the theatre were cut short due to scheduling issues. And the final straw -- The guy who played Jake dropped out a week before the show was scheduled to open. (Shaking my head.) After this unfortunate chain of events, the show was cancelled a few days before opening night.
Needless to say, it was quite an experience, and my well-worn copy of "A Lie of the Mind" still sits on my bookshelf. I don't know if I'll ever get to perform the role of Sally again, but through my hours of rehearsal, through the good and bad, I learned a lot of important lessons:
1. Be on time.
2. Be prepared.
3. Be a team player.
4. Communicate with your fellow castmates.
5. Nothing's ever certain.
Although I was disappointed at the outcome, I can walk away with no regrets because I know that I gave my all to the project. And hey, I guess it wasn't meant to be... there are better things in store for me. You see, I've just started my acting program at Esper Studio and now I can devote all my energy to my training.
Hanging with the Ghosts of Sandy Meisner
Time: Winter 2005/Fall 2006
So I've made my decision. Out of all the wonderful acting studios in NY, I've decided upon, and been accepted to the William Esper Accelerated Two-Year Program. It worked out perfectly, actually. While working on the miniseries, I toyed with the idea of applying to grad schools... I'd looked into Juilliard, NYU and Yale's programs, and had visions of me sporting a navy blue Yale sweatshirt and doing amazing plays with the Yale Rep. But, I kept hearing about this one studio, this Esper studio. About how actors there were challenged to be their best, most authentic selves. About how the whole program was based on Meisner's teachings. Meisner being the man who prized "in-the-moment", organic responses to situations and whose technique translated well on both the stage and the screen. I was drawn to the studio, interviewed by Terry Knickerbocker, and offered a place in his First Year Class that started in January.
My last day of filming the miniseries was on December 28th, so I could wrap that project, spend a week in Texas and jump into class after the New Year. Perfect. Boy was I excited, but I had no idea what a journey I was going to make over the next 17 months.
From the very beginning, I could tell that Terry Knickerbocker was a gifted teacher and that I was blessed to be in his class. His standard of excellence, his passion for the craft both inspired and motivated my peers and me to bring our whole, most present selves to the room each and every class. To shave away the artifice and only leave the truth behind.
As time went on, my "appropriate" self started to take a back seat and I began to feel free to just be, to be me, with all of my fears and dreams and ideas and pain and desires and heartaches, however inappropriate. We were in a safe place, different from the "real world" where we could flex artistic muscles that might not be appreciated at say, The Whole Foods down the street.
Terry demanded honesty, hard work, creativity, timeliness, professionalism and growth, and if you didn't give him what he asked for, well, it sucks to be you. But even through the "suckiness", we learned. We learned our strengths and weaknesses and by watching our peers' work, we learned as well. Apart from all the gems of acting knowledge I collected each day, I learned that true friendships can blossom even when you're not looking for them. I learned how beautiful it is to support your fellow artists as you fight your way through a sometimes resistant industry. I learned that life is so, so beautiful, through laughter, love, grief and heartache, and that we actors have a responsibility to represent it as truthfully as we can. I learned oh-so-much in my 17 glorious months at the William Esper Studio, and as I walk away to continue my journey, I am a better actor and a better person because of it.
So I've made my decision. Out of all the wonderful acting studios in NY, I've decided upon, and been accepted to the William Esper Accelerated Two-Year Program. It worked out perfectly, actually. While working on the miniseries, I toyed with the idea of applying to grad schools... I'd looked into Juilliard, NYU and Yale's programs, and had visions of me sporting a navy blue Yale sweatshirt and doing amazing plays with the Yale Rep. But, I kept hearing about this one studio, this Esper studio. About how actors there were challenged to be their best, most authentic selves. About how the whole program was based on Meisner's teachings. Meisner being the man who prized "in-the-moment", organic responses to situations and whose technique translated well on both the stage and the screen. I was drawn to the studio, interviewed by Terry Knickerbocker, and offered a place in his First Year Class that started in January.
My last day of filming the miniseries was on December 28th, so I could wrap that project, spend a week in Texas and jump into class after the New Year. Perfect. Boy was I excited, but I had no idea what a journey I was going to make over the next 17 months.
From the very beginning, I could tell that Terry Knickerbocker was a gifted teacher and that I was blessed to be in his class. His standard of excellence, his passion for the craft both inspired and motivated my peers and me to bring our whole, most present selves to the room each and every class. To shave away the artifice and only leave the truth behind.
As time went on, my "appropriate" self started to take a back seat and I began to feel free to just be, to be me, with all of my fears and dreams and ideas and pain and desires and heartaches, however inappropriate. We were in a safe place, different from the "real world" where we could flex artistic muscles that might not be appreciated at say, The Whole Foods down the street.
Terry demanded honesty, hard work, creativity, timeliness, professionalism and growth, and if you didn't give him what he asked for, well, it sucks to be you. But even through the "suckiness", we learned. We learned our strengths and weaknesses and by watching our peers' work, we learned as well. Apart from all the gems of acting knowledge I collected each day, I learned that true friendships can blossom even when you're not looking for them. I learned how beautiful it is to support your fellow artists as you fight your way through a sometimes resistant industry. I learned that life is so, so beautiful, through laughter, love, grief and heartache, and that we actors have a responsibility to represent it as truthfully as we can. I learned oh-so-much in my 17 glorious months at the William Esper Studio, and as I walk away to continue my journey, I am a better actor and a better person because of it.
Uh.. Parlez vous anglais?
Time: Fall 2005
I asked for it, I got it. I'm in the midst of a whirldwind, traveling from NYC to Paris, from Paris to Lausanne and then back again. I've become a familiar face at both La Guardia and Charles de Gaulle airports and I have mastered the art of rolling my clothes to take up the least space possible.
Traveling is exhausting! Once I get to my destination, I always need a couple days to get centered. Luckily, a comfy room has been arranged for me in a 4-star Swiss hotel. Lausanne is beautiful, picturesque with its rolling vineyards and snow-capped mountains on the horizon. I have a lot of down time and a fairly generous per diem so I treat myself to a nice dinner at a different restaurant each night. I'm still feeling a little shy as I'm the only American among a Swiss and French cast and crew, so I spend most of my meals sipping wine, and gobbling up my latest book. (Not literally of course.) I am content. I have my scripts in my room, my phone cards to call home daily and access to the hotel's DVD library a floor below. There are moments, though, that I get lonely. I think to myself:
'It'd be pretty cool if my friends/fam could be here enjoying this with me. Hey, they wouldn't even have to pay for a hotel room.'
But the loneliness passes and I happily plan my itinerary for the days I'm not shooting.
My first day on set is pretty easy. Not much dialogue, beautiful weather, my call time's at 8am and my driver gets me back to the hotel by 2pm. The second day, however, is definitely... interesting. First all, I'm wearing a bikini whose top happens to be two sizes too small. But aside from an imminent wardrobe malfunction, a few memorable things happen:
1. I almost faint due to the fact that I'd forgotten to eat that morning.
2. I almost drown while shooting a scene that takes place in the pool. After five minutes of swimming laps, I listen desperately for the word 'CUT,' but instead hear 'Une minute de plus.'
Note to self: Become a stronger swimmer.
3. I fall flat on my derriere while running into a shot, wearing flip-flops.
4. I have to ask my 8 year old co-star (who doesn't speak English) to explain the nuances of Claude-Michel's piece of direction to me, which he does so, masterfully.
You see, no one on set spoke English, so not only is this my first TV experience, all my direction and lines are in French. And, I just happen to be surrounded by a slew of veteran French actors, among them the respected Francis Huster. I feel like a fish out of water, but I know that this experience, although challenging, is making me stronger.
So, I brush my towel off after the fall, munch on some food, take a few deep breaths after the near death experience and finish my scenes for the day. As I stand under the hot shower near the hotel pool, a photographer shoots publicity photos nearby and fans of the series wait patiently for autographs from the cast. I step out into the Swiss sunshine, put on some comfy clothes and head to my catered meal of quiche, fresh baguettes, brie, gruyere cheese and red wine. Mishaps aside, nothing can erase the fact that this whole experience with its ups and downs and all arounds is no short of amazing, and I'm lucky to be living it.
I asked for it, I got it. I'm in the midst of a whirldwind, traveling from NYC to Paris, from Paris to Lausanne and then back again. I've become a familiar face at both La Guardia and Charles de Gaulle airports and I have mastered the art of rolling my clothes to take up the least space possible.
Traveling is exhausting! Once I get to my destination, I always need a couple days to get centered. Luckily, a comfy room has been arranged for me in a 4-star Swiss hotel. Lausanne is beautiful, picturesque with its rolling vineyards and snow-capped mountains on the horizon. I have a lot of down time and a fairly generous per diem so I treat myself to a nice dinner at a different restaurant each night. I'm still feeling a little shy as I'm the only American among a Swiss and French cast and crew, so I spend most of my meals sipping wine, and gobbling up my latest book. (Not literally of course.) I am content. I have my scripts in my room, my phone cards to call home daily and access to the hotel's DVD library a floor below. There are moments, though, that I get lonely. I think to myself:
'It'd be pretty cool if my friends/fam could be here enjoying this with me. Hey, they wouldn't even have to pay for a hotel room.'
But the loneliness passes and I happily plan my itinerary for the days I'm not shooting.
My first day on set is pretty easy. Not much dialogue, beautiful weather, my call time's at 8am and my driver gets me back to the hotel by 2pm. The second day, however, is definitely... interesting. First all, I'm wearing a bikini whose top happens to be two sizes too small. But aside from an imminent wardrobe malfunction, a few memorable things happen:
1. I almost faint due to the fact that I'd forgotten to eat that morning.
2. I almost drown while shooting a scene that takes place in the pool. After five minutes of swimming laps, I listen desperately for the word 'CUT,' but instead hear 'Une minute de plus.'
Note to self: Become a stronger swimmer.
3. I fall flat on my derriere while running into a shot, wearing flip-flops.
4. I have to ask my 8 year old co-star (who doesn't speak English) to explain the nuances of Claude-Michel's piece of direction to me, which he does so, masterfully.
You see, no one on set spoke English, so not only is this my first TV experience, all my direction and lines are in French. And, I just happen to be surrounded by a slew of veteran French actors, among them the respected Francis Huster. I feel like a fish out of water, but I know that this experience, although challenging, is making me stronger.
So, I brush my towel off after the fall, munch on some food, take a few deep breaths after the near death experience and finish my scenes for the day. As I stand under the hot shower near the hotel pool, a photographer shoots publicity photos nearby and fans of the series wait patiently for autographs from the cast. I step out into the Swiss sunshine, put on some comfy clothes and head to my catered meal of quiche, fresh baguettes, brie, gruyere cheese and red wine. Mishaps aside, nothing can erase the fact that this whole experience with its ups and downs and all arounds is no short of amazing, and I'm lucky to be living it.
Here comes NY! There goes NY!
Time: June 5, 2005
Wowsers. I've only been in NY for two minutes and I can already feel it. That electricity in the air, that feeling that anything can and will happen if only you can dream it and work hard to achieve it. The feeling that this city is not for the weary, and that it will require you to give your best and nothing less. I just arrived to NYC from Paris, France, where I've been living for the past year. Funny thing happened a few days before I left town. My agent, Cindy Brace, called me with my first audition since I signed with her 6 months before. I had a feeling that was going to happen... right when I leave, I'm going to get an audition. And, it did. Unfortunately, the audition is scheduled for 2 days from now and there was no way I was going to postpone my entire move back to the U.S. for the preread.
Me: "Cindy, can I send them a tape when I get to NY?"
Cindy: "No, they're going to want to see you in person."
Well, that's the breaks, I guess. I'm not terribly disappointed because my schedule's already pretty full for my first week in NY. I'd signed up on Actor's Access while I was still in Paris, so I've already got an audition scheduled. Also, I'll be going by T. Schreiber Studios for an info session because I want to start training as soon as possible. That's the main reason why I'm here so I don't want to waste any time.
So, I'm taking care of business, getting set up in NY, and lo and behold, I get an email from my agent. It turns out, the director still wants to consider me for the role of "Cindy" in the five-part miniseries "Le Maitre du Zodiaque." Little did I know, this series was the second installation of last summer's most successful miniseries. The casting director requested that I send an audition tape of the two scenes she's provided in the next 2 days. I did, and soon after they received it, they requested that I return to Paris asap to meet with the director. As luck would have it, I flew the NYC to London to Paris route the same day that London suffered the terrorist bombings in the subways. Luckily I managed to arrive in Paris safe and sound and on time for my meeting with the director, Claude-Michel Rome. It was a great meeting and when I left Paris, I had a signed contract in hand and plans to return to Paris a month and a half later to begin shooting.
Wow, wow, wow. As I sat in awe in my seat on the long plane ride home I was reminded of something that had happened two years before. I was completing the oral portion of my French exam, and my French teacher asked me what I saw myself doing in 5 years. I thought for a moment and then responded in French:
"Je vais etre une actrice internationelle. Je vais tourner des filmes en anglais, francais et espagnol."
"I'm going to be an international actresss. I'm going to make films in English, French and Spanish."
My French teacher laughed then. And I'm laughing now and shaking my head at the wonder of it all. I'm on my way back to NYC and I'm on my way to realizing my dreams.
Wowsers. I've only been in NY for two minutes and I can already feel it. That electricity in the air, that feeling that anything can and will happen if only you can dream it and work hard to achieve it. The feeling that this city is not for the weary, and that it will require you to give your best and nothing less. I just arrived to NYC from Paris, France, where I've been living for the past year. Funny thing happened a few days before I left town. My agent, Cindy Brace, called me with my first audition since I signed with her 6 months before. I had a feeling that was going to happen... right when I leave, I'm going to get an audition. And, it did. Unfortunately, the audition is scheduled for 2 days from now and there was no way I was going to postpone my entire move back to the U.S. for the preread.
Me: "Cindy, can I send them a tape when I get to NY?"
Cindy: "No, they're going to want to see you in person."
Well, that's the breaks, I guess. I'm not terribly disappointed because my schedule's already pretty full for my first week in NY. I'd signed up on Actor's Access while I was still in Paris, so I've already got an audition scheduled. Also, I'll be going by T. Schreiber Studios for an info session because I want to start training as soon as possible. That's the main reason why I'm here so I don't want to waste any time.
So, I'm taking care of business, getting set up in NY, and lo and behold, I get an email from my agent. It turns out, the director still wants to consider me for the role of "Cindy" in the five-part miniseries "Le Maitre du Zodiaque." Little did I know, this series was the second installation of last summer's most successful miniseries. The casting director requested that I send an audition tape of the two scenes she's provided in the next 2 days. I did, and soon after they received it, they requested that I return to Paris asap to meet with the director. As luck would have it, I flew the NYC to London to Paris route the same day that London suffered the terrorist bombings in the subways. Luckily I managed to arrive in Paris safe and sound and on time for my meeting with the director, Claude-Michel Rome. It was a great meeting and when I left Paris, I had a signed contract in hand and plans to return to Paris a month and a half later to begin shooting.
Wow, wow, wow. As I sat in awe in my seat on the long plane ride home I was reminded of something that had happened two years before. I was completing the oral portion of my French exam, and my French teacher asked me what I saw myself doing in 5 years. I thought for a moment and then responded in French:
"Je vais etre une actrice internationelle. Je vais tourner des filmes en anglais, francais et espagnol."
"I'm going to be an international actresss. I'm going to make films in English, French and Spanish."
My French teacher laughed then. And I'm laughing now and shaking my head at the wonder of it all. I'm on my way back to NYC and I'm on my way to realizing my dreams.
The Beginning
Time: Present Day, October 2007
Gosh. I never knew this whole "writing of a blog" thing would be so difficult to just, well, start. I mean, I've been meaning to start writing for months now, but I just kept putting it off, putting it off until... I just got tired of looking at a blank blog page. I wanted to wait until I had something great to say, interesting, clever... but I've decided to just begin at well, this moment.
At this moment, I'm in NYC. Specifically, I'm in my tiny studio on 25th Street between Broadway and 6th Avenue. It's a great apartment really, even though it doesn't get as much sunlight as I would like. My view is of an abandoned building but my lofted bed is extremely cozy and warm at night. Boxes are stacked in the corner and the movers are already scheduled to come. You see, I'm leaving for Los Angeles in a mere two weeks (sigh.)
I'm very excited about the next chapter but also a bit sad that I'll be leaving the richness of New York behind. The subway rides, the long walks, the days in Madison Square Park, the pizza... I'm going to miss living with you, NYC. So in honor of our parting I'm going to devote the next several posts to the acting experiences I've had while living in NYC. I'll begin 2 years and four months ago (on June 5th, 2005) and proceed from there....
Gosh. I never knew this whole "writing of a blog" thing would be so difficult to just, well, start. I mean, I've been meaning to start writing for months now, but I just kept putting it off, putting it off until... I just got tired of looking at a blank blog page. I wanted to wait until I had something great to say, interesting, clever... but I've decided to just begin at well, this moment.
At this moment, I'm in NYC. Specifically, I'm in my tiny studio on 25th Street between Broadway and 6th Avenue. It's a great apartment really, even though it doesn't get as much sunlight as I would like. My view is of an abandoned building but my lofted bed is extremely cozy and warm at night. Boxes are stacked in the corner and the movers are already scheduled to come. You see, I'm leaving for Los Angeles in a mere two weeks (sigh.)
I'm very excited about the next chapter but also a bit sad that I'll be leaving the richness of New York behind. The subway rides, the long walks, the days in Madison Square Park, the pizza... I'm going to miss living with you, NYC. So in honor of our parting I'm going to devote the next several posts to the acting experiences I've had while living in NYC. I'll begin 2 years and four months ago (on June 5th, 2005) and proceed from there....
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