Destined for greatness...

I don't have cable, or any type of television service for that matter...too expensive and too distracting.  But what I do have is internet, hulu, and a netflix password all of which are just as, if not more, distracting.  Go figure.  Streaming TV shows are my guilty pleasure, they provide hours of mindless entertainment, when one episode is done you simply click next to see the next.  No waiting a week, no commercial breaks...extremely dangerous.  So much so that I've been quite rapidly depleting the number of quality series available at the touch of a mouse, it's a little depressing but entirely irrelevant to the topic at hand, so let's begin...

Lately I'm on a historical fiction kick.  I was always a sucker for castles, kingdoms, and the medieval time period.  Growing up I was obsessed with Ireland.  I'd spend countless hours in my room or on the hill across the street dreaming up elaborate fantasy worlds with thick accents and rich histories of birthrights, valiance, and romance.  So, it's no surprise that once I ran out of Dexter seasons, The Office, and HIMYM, I turned to shows of that nature.  Granted they may not be the most well written or witty shows out there but there is something that can be taken from them, something that dawned on me recently and has had a profound effect on me since.  It's not a new idea or revelation -- you've surely heard it before -- but it is no less groundbreaking and powerful when you come to realize it yourself.  I got to thinking about the shows I've been watching and the impossible feats and obstacles that the protagonists are faced with and overcome and it hit me.  The characters in these shows cannot loose, they cannot fail, against all odds they must succeed, there is no option of failure.  If they fail they loose everything, including their lives for it is their destiny to achieve greatness and to fail your destiny is to fail much more than just yourself.

Never once is it said that their destiny is a sure thing, never once does it say the future is unchangeable, they still must fight for it, suffer for it, struggle and face these seemingly impossible obstacles, they must give their all, their sweat, their tears, their every hope and dream, and many times they come so close to loosing, to dying, to failing, but they never ever give up.  And why?  Because they have the knowledge that they were meant for this, that they have a higher calling, that failure is NOT an option.  It is their destiny to be the King, to unite the land, to be the greatest sorcerer of all time.  It doesn't matter what it is, what matters is that they must fulfill it, no questions asked, no if and or buts.

But what if our lives were like that?  What if we were told we were destined for greatness and we actually believed it?  What if failure, although always a possibility, was not an option because our destiny awaited?  What would we do differently?  What would change?

We are always told as children we can be whatever we want; we can change the world...but what if instead we were told we will change the world, that it is written in the histories of man, written in the stars; that we are the stuff of legends and that we must now go out there and become that person that it is said we will be?  Can you imagine how differently we would act if we knew for certain or truly believed that we would achieve our dreams, that we must?  So many of us want things, want to be better, want to be smarter, want to be more than we are...but what if these wants were not simply things we longed for but things imperative to fulfilling our true purpose?  We would not put them off, we would not say "well I didn't get to the gym today, there's always tomorrow," no.  We would wake up and say "today I must go, today I must achieve" for destiny cannot wait.  That's the problem with dreams, we put them off for too long.  Tomorrow becomes next week, next week becomes next month, next month becomes next year, and before we know it our dreams become things of the past, things we always wanted to do but never got around to.  So why not make our dreams our destiny?  It is always said we create our own destiny's so why not believe in them?  Why not convince ourselves that we too are destined for greatness?

And what if we are?  What if we simply didn't realize it before?  What if I am destined to be one of the great artists of my time...I just haven't realized it till now?  There is no room for questions in the end, there is no room for the what if, there is only the is and am.

So today I make my dream my destiny.  I do not hope to be a great actor, I do not wish to be more diligent, more driven, I do not try to be motivated.  My motivation is a given, there is no option to be less driven, less diligent for it is my destiny to be a great actor of my time.  All those who have come before me and who have achieved greatness, they have not done it by dreaming, by hoping, they have done it because they believed that failure was not an option.  They believed that they were destined for greatness and they went out there and they took what was theirs.  Last week I cried.  I cried because I realized the life I once had, the life I once wanted, the life that I grew up with was so far from the one that I have now, and I wanted both.  I wanted to achieve that past life again but through the one I was living now...and man, looking at the big picture and seeing how far I have to reach before I have the ability or the option to combine both lives...well, it's overwhelming.  But through the tears comes clarity and I have found it at last.  All that motivation I've written about, all that struggling to find drive and hold onto it.  All that uncertainty in myself and my choices...it's all gone.  It's all different now.  I must push forward because this is what I'm meant to do, this is who I'm meat to be.  All it took was me realizing and believing.

I am destined for greatness, it is my destiny to be one of the greatest actors of my time, and I will achieve, I will succeed. I must.

Reflections in the water of the past...

So today is the birthday of my first boyfriend, first love, first heartbreak, first of many things.  It's funny how when we grow up the lives we once believed we'd have change, our needs, our wants, us as a person, it all changes.  He's married now, and apparently expecting his first child.  It's crazy, I'm happy and excited for him, it's amazing to see what he's done with his life, how it's all unfolded.  Granted we don't talk anymore and most of my information comes from that social media site that we all know and love, yes, the one that seems to rule lives...facebook...and the one or two off times I may see a post or happen across his page in boredom or mild curiosity but every time I do, I feel a strange pride in seeing his accomplishments, his happiness.  Almost like I'm a proud birth parent of a child I gave up who doesn't know my existence and whom I admire from afar.  Is that weird?  It is kinda weird, hu?  None the less, as I sit here thinking about the boy I once believed would be my husband, and the life we had imagined, I can't help but smile slightly with nostalgia.

Everyone remembers their first love, the trials the tribulations, the mistakes made by both, the promises made and broken, the way you though no one else could compare.  The fights, the tears, the joy.  The dreams, the plans, the romance, and the heartbreak.  Our love was a mess, we were young, we fought like no other...I was crazy, demanding, he was goofy, and proud.  We loved each other with all we could at that age, spent hours driving around town listening to music, nights laying on the field of his HS or in the bed of my truck looking at the stars.  We broke up the summer before college, got back together, tried the long distance thing but when you're 18 Davis to Irvine was a bit to far and hormones were a bit too wild.  Too many distractions, too many other options, too many questions of what if and what else is out there, I messed up, he messed up, and I broke both of our hearts.  Years later we both found closure, I found a new path to my life and he found her.  I always wondered how it would be to see him marry someone else, but when it happened all I was was happy for him.  I did not hurt, our door had closed and we both recognized that long before his status went from "in a relationship" to "engaged."  My life plan no longer involved winter trips to Tahoe, lunches at the Meadow Club, summer trips to Europe, sailing around the bay on lazy evenings but theirs did.  She was, she is, perfect for him and they are so happy in the life that at one time I thought would be ours.

And I smile, because I know that is not the life I can have, not now.  I realized this when I made the decision to move to LA instead of DC, to give up the straight and arrow path for one of art and creativity and struggle.  I've made the decision to give away the wonderful life I dreamed of as a kid, the life that seemed so normal, so expected, and I'm happy that I don't have to feel guilty, wonder what if...what if I hadn't made those mistakes.  I'm happy that someone I loved so much, hurt so much, is exactly where they are supposed to be, with exactly who they are meant to be with.  Of course it makes me wonder if I'll find my one, I tell myself not to worry about that, I tell myself and those around me that I don't care, that I don't want to find that love, that I don't have time or energy...and it's true, but sometimes I wonder if I'm just afraid.  Afraid to admit that I do want that, that I've always wanted that...my life may be way off course from the dream I had of being a young housewife in the suburbs with a big yard and comfortable means but sometimes I wonder if I'm really that different from the girl I was growing up.  But it's idle thoughts, and counterproductive to the dreams I have now.

I'm an Actor, I live in my very own one bedroom apartment, I enjoy my freedom, my days alone, my restaurant/bar job.  I often long for home and the lifestyle I am accustomed to, the beauty of the mountains, the redwoods, the fresh air, the promise, the contentment I feel, the peace of home...but I wouldn't know what to do with myself there.  This is my life now, and until I understand how to combine both my worlds I must choose to live in one and try and forget the other.  I will admire from afar my friends and past loves, and I will hold steady to the idea that this is who I'm ment to be, that I too will find my own life and happiness in time.  The one thing I do know for certain is that my life is not meant to be what theirs is, my path has made a number of sharp turns in different directions and is an adventure all together different and wonderful.  So as much as I ponder, and as many unanswered questions I have about my own wants, needs, and life...I can still appreciate the strides that others are making.  The happiness they've found, well, there is no one more deserving of such a gift.  And until I too find my own, for them and for that I smile.

Showtime...

So tonight is opening night of Atwater Playhouse's July showcase, and I can't pinpoint the exact emotion I'm experiencing.  I suppose it's more plausible to describe it as a range of emotions as I swing from excited to slightly disappointed to indifferent.  It's this sliding scale in conjunction with the weather that has influenced my actions or rather lack there of today, and has prompted me to attempt to identify, categorize, and describe to you what it is that's going on inside of me.  I feel dull, removed, as if time has no effect and no purpose.  That could be due to my mid afternoon nap that I recently arose from, sometimes the extra unneeded sleep puts me in a catatonic state, or perhaps the heat has made me that much more lethargic.  It's not heat like the last week has been, that uncomfortable hot sticky feeling that makes sitting still unbearable but moving around even more so, no, but it's the heat that makes you lazy, makes afternoon naps naked with the windows open a great possibility. So here I sit, AC on, ceiling fan whirling, trying to wake myself up from this dream state and to live truthfully.

Live truthfully.  I've recently learned that as actors it is our job to live, not act.  Kinda strange that as an "actor" we must try our hardest to stay away from doing exactly that.  Have you ever seen someone on the screen or in a play who was "acting?"  I'm sure you have, we all have, it's awful, it's untruthful, it's downright distracting and we won't pay to see people simply "act" we want them to live.  We watch movies to escape from our own lives, to let go, to believe in an alternative universe where extraordinary things happen and ordinary people rise up to their full potential in extreme situations.  So the actors job is not to "act" rather it is to live, to live the role, the moment, have it be real for themselves and they will captivate their audience.  To completely remove yourself from all social constrictions and feel openly without consequence.  In layman's terms, I go to class to learn to be the 5 year old me again.  The me without restriction, the me before politeness was hammered into me, before the walls went up around me, the me who was ruled by my urges not a slave to societies guidelines on how to react or not react to the world around us.  We're taught to not say anything if we have nothing nice to say, to let things roll off our backs, to not cry or show when someone has hurt us.  To stand strong, to build up this wall, to think before we speak.  Everything that goes against simply living, feeling, being open, honest, and free.  That's why acting is so difficult.  You can't just memorize lines and get up on stage and act, or that's all it will be.  A hollow shell with no deeper feeling, meaning, connection.  Unrelatable and hallow.

That's kinda how I feel now.  So far removed from my emotions not by choice, trying desperately to swim against this current, to dive deep down and pull the truth, the life, the raw feelings from where they swirl inside my heart.  I feel like I'm putting up these emotional blockades to keep myself from being sad.  From allowing myself to admit that I failed...that I've failed myself.  You see this month I have a scene I like, like really really like, a scene I am excited to work on, to put up, to show people...and yet...caught up in my laziness and catatonic state of last month and then overwhelmed by the crazy business I realized was going to be this month I completely put off telling people about the upcoming show.  I always tell people and yet this time, when I actually have something I think is really worth seeing, something I'm excited to show...I self sabotage and wait till the week of to start promoting.  I know most my friends who would love to come support me live far away and have lives and make plans and now, due to my not informing them ahead of time, cannot come out and see my great work.  I'm not saying that this scene is life changing, or that I'm the best I can be, or that I've done all the work there is to do and the scene is perfect.  No, not at all...but I am saying that if I was going to have my friends come to any performance I've done so far...this would be it.  This is one I'm truly looking forward to.  And yet...most my audience is a solid "maybe" since I failed to do the simplest thing ever. Tell them ahead of time.

Not to say that without my own support system in the audience the show is worthless to me or means less...but it kinda does.  We don't have an audience unless we bring an audience, and from previous showcases with my theater company, I'm sometimes the only one who's friends come support.  I'm not sure if it's just because I have great friends, or if I'm the only one who actually tells people about the show, I am pretty sure it's both...but I think I'll stick to the awesome friends idea.  And for the first time I'm truely excited, I have a great scrip from a little known play write, I have a strong acting partner, I have new techniques....I want to show people, and if there's no one to show then why am I getting on stage?  I know that I don't act for praise, or just because people are watching but in the end, the actor needs an audience, just as a writer needs a reader, or there'd be no use in acting at all.  I guess I can just hope that my friend are that extraordinary and that some of my maybes become yeses, and in the end all I can ask for is to live up there on that stage live and have fun.

I'm read for the world to end, I'm ready for Early One Evening at the Rainbow Bar and Grill, I'm ready to live.

The diet of an artist

So I went to the grocery store today to stock up on some necessities.  It wasn't grocery day (that's reserved for Mondays) but as Monday was a holiday and my fridge was looking quite bare with it's family sized pack of chicken drumsticks leftover from the beach, giant piece of week old cheesecake leftover from a catered party at work, odd condiments, and aloe vera to treat my aching sunburnt back (15 hours at the beach is not ever a good idea), I decided to break my schedule and pick up some things to get me through the week.  Come to think of it perhaps I should change my grocery day...Monday may not be the best choice, but that's an entirely different subject and irrelevant at the moment.  So back to the task...

They say you can tell a lot about a person by what they buy, what they eat.  It shows you what is important to them in life.  For example, someone that stocks up on brown rice, chicken breast, and leafy greens is most likely someone who values an active lifestyle and their health.  Someone who stocks up on the sweets likes to indulge and places more value on comfort and someone who frequents the frozen food or ramen isles is someone with either little time, or patience to care about nutrition.  Granted my observations may be very basic and at times incorrect but you get my general gist.  So what did I buy?  Well let's see...

Bread, pop tarts, more bread, nutra grain bars, cheese...the necessities for living my lifestyle.  It wasn't always this way, I used to love dinner.  More specifically cooking extravagant dinners for myself and my roommates or boyfriends or whomever I could at the time.  I loved thumbing through the recipe book, writing the shopping lists, hitting the market, all the slicing, dicing, stiring, simmering, the multi tasking and challenge of timing it right so that everything was done at the same time.  Hot vegis, meat, starch, perfect unison perfect temperature perfect square meal.  Granted this was back before I worked nights and weekends, back before I was a starving artist, back before I worked three jobs to become a starving artist.  Times have changed.  I don't have the luxury of planning out and creating such meals, I've siphoned my funds towards classes instead of expensive grocery trips, and my time towards work and scene work and everything else in between instead of hours in the kitchen perfecting my culinary skills.

So here I was, in the self check out lane with my carbs, quick breakfast options (this was the first time I think I've EVER bought pop tarts...but waking up and getting to a 9 am class after working till 2:30 am the previous night calls for extreme measures), and cheese.  Breakfast and lunch have become my only consistent meals I have at home, and on a tight budget and schedule you can't beat home made sandwiches and instant semi-nutritious meal options.  At least not for a mid week quick grocery trip.  I do have three nights where I can make myself dinner if I watch my time wisely, and for those meals I peruse the meat and fish department eyes peeled for a good weekly special on grocery day.  I'll dedicate an entire post to that later, complete with meal ideas and do it at home tips. As for today, I wasn't going to get distracted by more than the Kings Hawaiian Bread that was on sale and ended up coming home with me for no other reason than it's deliciousness.

...oh, that and the best kind of sandwiches ever...ICE CREAM SANDWICHES!  Can you tell where my priorities lie?  Lol.