My cousin, who is totally one of those annoying triple-threats* you hear about, with a career I admire to high heaven, posted this right-on-the-money post on her postin spot. And I'm re-posting here because
- I couldn't say it any better myself, and
- it shows that I'm not alone, and
- this coming from HER means that I'm not just being a sore loser.
can and will. Not at all like that other form of performance involving cameras. That shallow, looks-based, unimportant and unartful, dirty medium that only sometimes reaches what theater constantly perfects. Ugh.Something's gotta change for me to stay in love with it too, I guess.
Aside from my unfair treatment of film and television due, in part, to my inability to...um...do...it...this romanticizing of the stage is not only silly. It's downright unhealthy. Because with every moment that I'm proven wrong, with every brilliant actor who is turned down because the role went to someone with the right freckle count or hair color, with every show with disappointing performances I see, I die a little.
Over dramatic? M'yeah. I only mean that part of me that fell in love with this world in the first place dies. And I'll be honest. I'm scared that if any more of it leaves me that I'll be left selling high heeled shoes to women who actually need orthopedics for the rest of my life.
Don't get me wrong. I'm still in love with this world. With the people that I learn from in this world. With the work that challenges me and propels me to do better and crave to create. But I'm afraid of learning any more about this world than I have in the past year. I'm afraid of where I'll find myself a year from now.
I'm eons away from that college sophomore who wanted to start a theater company in the Bath House Theatre on Green Lake in Seattle. That girl was naive and unrealistic.
This girl just hopes to find herself still in love with this world, even after the romance has gone.
The wonderful thing is that as I keep taking these steps to make theater the way I want to make it, (2 meetings this week! script and images forming more every day!), now i know that she's one more incredibly talented person I know who might just want to come along.
Now more than ever, I feel like I'm in good company.
Tripe: Does this mean I'm out? It does, doesn't it? You like her better! I can tell!
Me: Tripe, I'm really sorry, but you are so fucking disgusting I can't handle it.
Tripe: Oh, yeah? Well take THIS!!!!!
Tripe: LOOOK AT MEEEEEEE!!!!!!! COW STOMACH LINING!
Me: This is why I like her better.