I haven’t felt moved to write on here in a while. Lack of inspiration? Exhaustion? Forgetfulness? Whatever the source, I’m here now. Life update: after four years in the Bay Area I’ve moved back to New York City. It was time. My body ached for the breakneck pace, for an unparalleled dedication to theatre, for 24 hour public transit, for a kind of home I haven’t felt anywhere else.
My mom was moving away, and wanted her restless daughter settled before she left. My dad saw how I glowed onstage and asked when I was going back to New York. My sister was growing up, about to start her life in college. It was time. I’ve spent so much precious time afraid of failing that I never gave myself a chance to try. So here I am, giving myself a fighting chance, to become a New York actor.
I moved in April. It’s slow going. I’ve been on a handful of auditions. No callbacks. I’m taking a beginning acting class. The apartment I share with a best friend from college is a work in progress – we’ve pushed back our official housewarming so much that our lease will be up by the time the party arrives. When we sit on the floor eating pizza together or gossip about boys over too many mimosas I marvel at how lucky I am to have found my soul twin. Coming home to such a supportive (and sometimes necessarily shady) friend makes this summer that much better – a pretty decent air conditioner frequent bursts of laughter do wonders for a spirit dampened by the city’s crushing heat.
So here I am, sweating through commutes, yearning for fall, seeking work as an actor and friendship and love and fulfillment. I’m working a day job in hospitality – where all my coworkers are actors.
I have big dreams but my smaller goals are what keep me moving. A slightly larger apartment. Laundry in the building. Making art more than I do other things. Sleeping more nights than not.
I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m on my way.
Love and theatre,