Post opening:
(Addendum: recently, someone on Facebook detagged himself in a photo I tagged of him, and it made me quite angry that people are so sensitive about the image they create for themselves online. Like, what, a bad picture of you has never been taken? It wasn't even bad! Own it! So I continue my series of atrocious pictures of me. For public benefit.)
Man, this show is taking it out of me. I am exhausted. I am finding it so hard to focus on anything else. I don't know why. The show is very low pressure, in terms of prep. I have to be really awake and focused while I'm in it, but it's not like I have to run lines all the time, or do fight prep or anything. I don't know. I'm tired though.
But loving it.
This really is such a special piece. The response back has been mixed, and there have been a lot of people who haven't said anything to me, or who clearly weren't too in to it. And I kind of get that. But at the same time, it's something so different, so huge, all the silences and stillness, all the people, and we don't get to see that so much, so I wish that there was a similar sense of that innovation from our audience. Perhaps it will come. Perhaps I'm talking to the wrong people. Not these people. These are the right people:
I know I have to give up what the audience thinks, because if I love a piece, it isn't possible for the audience to love it as much as I do, not being involved in it. I'll never get the kind of satisfaction I need from them. Applause can always be louder and reviews can always be better. I know that doing this show gives me a supreme amount of satisfaction, and that holding on to the idea that I was in this is like a little jewel. So I'm trying to own those things and let others go. It's not easy.
Opening night means gifts.
Opening night means parties.
I'm feeling very insecure right now and I'm not sure why. I am a part of this beautiful show and have something big in future, and two little things which will keep me acting-active for the next two months. But I'm still feeling competitive, like everyone is doing so much better than me and that I'm not a real actor, that this will end and I'll never get to this height ever again. Not entirely sure what it's about. But it sucks. And I want it to end. I guess it's like that audience thing, but there's always so much more to want and to do and to not get, so how can you stop feeling blah about things? I don't know how to look at the success of others without seeing my failure. That's a horrible thing to admit, but it's true.
Not very in the spirit of Tout Comme Elle. Breathe, breathe, wait, breathe, squat, walk, breathe. Ah, that's better.
This was drawn by the beautiful Anne Anglin, one of the 50, the one who ends the show with a great big bang, and given to our cast. Appropriate.
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