Dream Big

Last night's online chat to a friend in Los Angeles:

Me: So…I’ll probably NEVER put this in my blog…but I totally ROCKED my scene this past week in class.  It was the first scene (out of 9) that the teacher not only didn’t tear apart…but he really seemed to enjoy.  Score one for the older chick.

D:  Right on.

You SHOULD put that on your blog….

Me:  if I do…I know I’ll only hint at it.

That I had some reassurance.

But it is too public a forum (where my classmates and teacher could read it) to want to be too vocal about…..

Hmmm….I wonder what I don’t want people to know?

That I had a great day?  That I got recognition?  That I have an ego?

I think it is probably the fact that I don’t want to tempt the fates into slamming me back down.

That if I take credit for the ‘genius’ moments…then I have to personally claim all the failures too.  And it is more that this work is just passing through me.

I am neither the alpha nor the omega of the creative energy – just a willing vessel.

It was a great scene...it was well received.  And I found myself reticent to share it with you.  Talking it aloud with a classmate, I almost convinced myself that the reason was because I have been working on the idea of 'the work' being separate from me.  That the work is "it" and it is "out there".  That sometimes it is good and sometimes it is crap, and that doesn't mean I am good and it doesn't mean I am crap.  Getting a sense of distance from the creative work you produce gives you the ultimate freedom to try really bold choices.  When your sense of self-worth is wrapped up in the work, it makes it much harder to throw out a choice that is wild or unexpected (because it has the possibility - maybe even the likelihood - to fail that much more spectacularly).  And in the same breath that I was giving this excuse, I realized that I have no problem revealing my shortcomings, my disappointments and my failures and how they have affected me in this most public forum.

So, why do I have such a wariness about sharing the successes?

Well, that's a damn good question.

It made me think of a visualization exercise we did in one class.   It was meant to be a dream of the best possible sort.  We were asked to close our eyes and picture ourselves coming out for a curtain call at the National Theatre after a fantastic performance.  We see the audience leap to their feet in applause.  We take our bows and then head back to the dressing room.  Fans come backstage.  What do they say?  What words do they use?  The reviews come out.  What have the critics said?  We were asked to picture ourselves at an award show - which one? The Oscars? The Tonys?  BAFTA?  Drama Desk?  What is the introduction of the work we win for?  What is our acceptance speech?  

It was a question of what each artist wants - in the perfect world?  Do you crave to hear the word "genius" from a specific critic?  Do you want a little old lady to put her arm on you and quietly whisper, "You made me feel something.  Over ten years now...and I thought I'd never feel again.  But you made me feel alive"?  What is the core of your art?  

I knew specifically what each of the strangers, friends and critics said about my performance...the words I wanted to hear...but when it came to the awards show, I found myself at the event (and in a gorgeous dress) but not getting called to accept an award.  It wasn't sad or disappointing.  It was just as happy and positive-minded as the rest of my visualization.  It was just a very clear picture of what I actually prioritize in my career.  

There is a great naiveté that we as artists must stay in touch with:  "I have the RIGHT to be amazing, to be astonishing - because, actually, that is my job."

Her point in all of this was to get the warm-up to be not just a 'health-and-safety' stretch, but to transform ourselves (physically, mentally and emotionally) into the being capable of an earth-shattering performance.  The job of the actor is to be connected...so we should avoid any warm-up that allows disconnection.  For me, this was useful - in that I had always approached warm-up as a way to get from 'Caroline' to 'zero'.  To strip away all the extraneous physical gestures, vocal limitations, emotional trolls that would stand in my way in a role.  This change of thinking said that instead of bringing myself to zero, I should rev myself up to 100%.  Instead of the limited choices I may have walked into the room with....bring all the choices that I could possibly dream of...ALL of me.

Now, that lesson was important...but the bigger lesson for me was the idea of dreaming BIG.  Every time I step on stage, I should be aiming for a performance worthy of those words I heard in my imagination...the connections I made with my audience in my fantasy.  

"I want it all, George.  And there's not a chance in hell we're gonna get it all anyway...but if you don't WANT it, we've got even less chance than that." - Chapter 2, Neil Simon.