Monologue on Dress Rehearsal
I tried to be really discrete on my last blog because people knew who I was. I currently exist in semi-anonymity on Extremely Perishable. And I like it that way. Nevertheless, on the dead blog, I occasionally posted on the subject of an unfulfilled dream or corrosive desire that caused me a fair amount of anxiety. I never said what it was but I discussed how crazy it made me feel. I was in the closet. And it did make me feel crazy.
It might not seem like the admission of wanting to be a professional actor should be difficult...but it is. For me. And probably many others.
Firstly, my family - i.e. my parents - tend to only validate the status quo. Telling my father, for example, that my career goal is to become an actor would be embarrassing, perhaps even shameful. Secondly and more importantly, the majority of actors in the United States are unemployed. I fear what any other person who is already on the cusp of being broke fears. I fear the low quality of life and financial instability that a life in theatre arts pretty much promises. I fear falling through the cracks of society if I pursue that type of career. I mean, I'm already in debt...Student loans, people. Many of them.
So this dream dries up. Except...it's still there. I feel it most of the time. I break my life down, almost automatically, into camera shots and script lines and conflict. It's a natural, spontaneous drive. (As a side note - I still have high aspirations in the field of journalism. But these are muted in comparison to theatre and film.)
Some people would suggest that I go for it. I have one life and I can't live it with half of myself longing to be somewhere else. This is the final performance, they say, not the dress rehearsal. It's too easy to use that rhetoric though. Let's get real. I've learned, over the few short years I've been alive - you can't do everything you want. Some things must be sacrificed for the sake of others. And for me it's this unrealistic fantasy that money doesn't matter and that nobody will care if I 'waste' my college tuition.
It might not seem like the admission of wanting to be a professional actor should be difficult...but it is. For me. And probably many others.
Firstly, my family - i.e. my parents - tend to only validate the status quo. Telling my father, for example, that my career goal is to become an actor would be embarrassing, perhaps even shameful. Secondly and more importantly, the majority of actors in the United States are unemployed. I fear what any other person who is already on the cusp of being broke fears. I fear the low quality of life and financial instability that a life in theatre arts pretty much promises. I fear falling through the cracks of society if I pursue that type of career. I mean, I'm already in debt...Student loans, people. Many of them.
So this dream dries up. Except...it's still there. I feel it most of the time. I break my life down, almost automatically, into camera shots and script lines and conflict. It's a natural, spontaneous drive. (As a side note - I still have high aspirations in the field of journalism. But these are muted in comparison to theatre and film.)
Some people would suggest that I go for it. I have one life and I can't live it with half of myself longing to be somewhere else. This is the final performance, they say, not the dress rehearsal. It's too easy to use that rhetoric though. Let's get real. I've learned, over the few short years I've been alive - you can't do everything you want. Some things must be sacrificed for the sake of others. And for me it's this unrealistic fantasy that money doesn't matter and that nobody will care if I 'waste' my college tuition.
This entry was posted
on February 08, 2005 at 3:53 PM.
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