It is not 8am yet.
To some (most) this fact would not be (is not) startling because most (almost all) normal grown-ups wake up at a reasonable, responsible hour to do things like go to work or school.
This before-8am post marks the second time this week that my eyes have witnessed the sun rise and also the second time my eyes have witnessed the sun rise probably since October 2011.
(Isn't noting the year specifically so dramatique of me?)
The truth is, I spent most (all) of this past night tossing and turning and trying to count backwards from 10,000 in an effort to fall asleep. I tend to sleep poorly at hotels because the truth is I really love staying at hotels. It's exciting, even if it's just Ogden, UT. (I need you to know that my phone auto-corrects "Ogden" as "Offensive." Before-8am is funny.) I also sleep poorly without Ames, and especially poorly without a routine. What I'm saying is, all of these facts added up to a sleepless night, evidenced by crumbles and swipes of yesterday's mascara all over this pillow and my forearm from where I tossed it over my face dramatically.
I have felt extraordinarily In Touch with my feelings and goals lately, and yet have seemed to neglect so much of what I love, like essays and writing and music. I've been focused a lot on TV which is great because I have learned a lot about acting, which is really what I love most, but I really do love all beautiful and creative things. I wish I could sew. Like, Project Runway sew. Crocheting is lovely and diverting but since everyone in the world is all about Pinterest and crafting these days it doesn't feel like something I can just throw myself into (except for doilies which are so so pretty and I am good at them, though one doesn't become particularly recognized for extreme feats in doilies).
I went to the mall yesterday (which still feels like today because I didn't sleep, remember?) and indulged in two pretty shirts. I've been so conscious of my lack of income or need to basically ever get dressed for any specific reason that my wardrobe has become increasingly disappointing. But these shirts are pretty and flattering and are of visual interest, which makes me feel like I'm of visual interest, which makes me feel like I can/should wear lipstick-- and we all know how I feel about wearing lipstick.
I'm up in Ogden for the Region 8 Kennedy Center American College Theater Festival-- not participating, of course, but Ames is and a bunch of our friends and I hate to pass up an opportunity to see some interesting acting. I should pay more attention to the seminars but I'm here specifically to see Round 2 of the Irene Ryan acting competition. He's staying with the students, I'm crashing with friend Mel. She is sleeping peacefully while I witness the day-dawn breaking.
Ogden is very interesting. Driving to this hotel was the first time I drove through downtown-- which looks exactly like downtown Provo, which looks exactly like Downtown of most every town in Utah except Salt Lake City. I passed a quintessential cafe, and the tattoo shop, and the crafty gift store that's kind of a landmark but you don't really know anyone who's ever shopped there. Downtown Ogden even has an Indian-place-on-the-corner, which I bet is delicious. There's something comforting in the fact that "downtown" is dependable and predictable. Maybe there's also something frustrating in it too. Frustrating and trapping and metaphorical.
I've been reading too many self-reflective blogs this night, as I landed on Twitter accounts of friends-of-friends-of-friends and whatever.
I guess I'll get up now and wipe away last night's mascara (or what's left of it) and go try to learn a thing or two about acting. I'm going to wear one of my new shirts with my favorite boots.
Maybe I should wake up before 8AM more often.
10 February 2012
03 February 2012
priorities
I've started and restarted this entry about 100 times this morning. I know what I want to say but not really how to say it. Cleverness isn't pouring out of my brain. I may as well stop beating around the bush.
What I mean to say is, I am grateful for creativity in my life.
I crave it. It's all I want to do and accomplish. I love beautiful things, and words and art and music and acting. You guys. I love acting. I've spent all these years of my life going to school and studying literature and history and knowing things, all with the intention of finding a way to for the rest of my life. But in the midst of school were the day jobs and the social events and the piles of books I continued to pretend like I was reading for fun but I wasn't. I did lots of acting and gained lots of experience and developed invaluable relationships, but to what end? Why?
There were a few months in my junior year that I spent being single cast in She Loves Me, wearing pretty 30s clothes and a great wig, spending every single night and Saturday with people who are so talented that it really hurts my feelings, and I realized-- I could do this. For the rest of my life, I could do this. It was a tiny role in a show I hadn't particularly dreamed of performing my whole life, but that stretch of 2 months proved not only I could give my life to an extreme routine with the same tiny group of people in the same building every single night, but I want to.
And of course, life takes different turns. I went through a little period of seeming un-castability, got married, started to embrace what it means to be a "grown up," and started stressing out so hard that anxiety became my constant companion. I've found more and more opportunities to perform in the last year, but wasn't able to concentrate and appreciate those experiences for what they really were.
With a screeching halt, the "grown up" responsibilities have basically gone out the window. I mean, I think a whole lot about money and cars and trying to find a "responsible" job, but the bottom line is that:
Since October, I have had the chance to focus on creativity and art and acting almost without distraction.
It's almost all I think about. It's what I crave. I miss friends, but not at the expense of having "free time" in the evenings. I am happy to make the commute to West Valley. I am working my dream job, you guys. For the first time in my life, I feel so strongly that the Lord is allowing me some time to reprioritize my commitments, starting with those that are most important to me and fitting in everything else around it.
I am BLESSED.
And the more I look for creative opportunities-- to read and sing and look at art and work on big theatrical projects and find creatively-minded day jobs-- they are there more and more for me.
Art is a jealous world. There can be so much competition and subjectivity and meanness, but it is also the most feeling and fulfilling and wonderful. I have so many chances and places and opportunities to perform and make art-- more than other people who would take my place so fast if I had a bad attitude. I appreciate that, and I am grateful.
For the first time in so long, I'm more and more in love with my life.
What I mean to say is, I am grateful for creativity in my life.
I crave it. It's all I want to do and accomplish. I love beautiful things, and words and art and music and acting. You guys. I love acting. I've spent all these years of my life going to school and studying literature and history and knowing things, all with the intention of finding a way to for the rest of my life. But in the midst of school were the day jobs and the social events and the piles of books I continued to pretend like I was reading for fun but I wasn't. I did lots of acting and gained lots of experience and developed invaluable relationships, but to what end? Why?
There were a few months in my junior year that I spent being single cast in She Loves Me, wearing pretty 30s clothes and a great wig, spending every single night and Saturday with people who are so talented that it really hurts my feelings, and I realized-- I could do this. For the rest of my life, I could do this. It was a tiny role in a show I hadn't particularly dreamed of performing my whole life, but that stretch of 2 months proved not only I could give my life to an extreme routine with the same tiny group of people in the same building every single night, but I want to.
And of course, life takes different turns. I went through a little period of seeming un-castability, got married, started to embrace what it means to be a "grown up," and started stressing out so hard that anxiety became my constant companion. I've found more and more opportunities to perform in the last year, but wasn't able to concentrate and appreciate those experiences for what they really were.
With a screeching halt, the "grown up" responsibilities have basically gone out the window. I mean, I think a whole lot about money and cars and trying to find a "responsible" job, but the bottom line is that:
Since October, I have had the chance to focus on creativity and art and acting almost without distraction.
It's almost all I think about. It's what I crave. I miss friends, but not at the expense of having "free time" in the evenings. I am happy to make the commute to West Valley. I am working my dream job, you guys. For the first time in my life, I feel so strongly that the Lord is allowing me some time to reprioritize my commitments, starting with those that are most important to me and fitting in everything else around it.
I am BLESSED.
And the more I look for creative opportunities-- to read and sing and look at art and work on big theatrical projects and find creatively-minded day jobs-- they are there more and more for me.
Art is a jealous world. There can be so much competition and subjectivity and meanness, but it is also the most feeling and fulfilling and wonderful. I have so many chances and places and opportunities to perform and make art-- more than other people who would take my place so fast if I had a bad attitude. I appreciate that, and I am grateful.
For the first time in so long, I'm more and more in love with my life.
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