Shameless

News! News! News!

Vincent Lin, the director of the film I shot in September, just launched a brand new website for the movie. Check it out HERE!

Evening: INT

Check it out! The trailer for one of the films I shot over the summer:



If you have a minute, click on over to YouTube and give the trailer some love.

xo

On set

The shoot for Chase Thompson tops my list of Most Wonderful Acting Experiences. It is a real treat to have the opportunity to work with a group of people who are professional, organized, thoughtful, talented, collaborative and joyful. The entire cast and crew of Chase Thompson, the film by Vincent Lin that I worked on over Labor Day weekend, was a dream. Each day of our three day shoot was long, but not once did I wish to be somewhere else. When my alarm went off at 3:00 a.m. I leapt out of bed, excited to head to the set. I kept my cellphone off for three days because I did not want to be interrupted from my work. I hid from time pieces because I didn't want to be reminded of the time. I did not want to stop. I just wanted to stay put, in the moment, with those people, working on that film.

That is what movie making should always be.

I needed that. I had begun to feel frustrated and wary, twisted up with negative thoughts, tied with a bow of self-disgust.

Thank goodness for wonderful artists who remind me why I'm an actor, why I chose this non-conventional lifestyle and why I'm in New York.

9/7/09

Z0mBie hUntErZ

Costume and make-up test for Z0mBie hUntErz, a film by Chase Thompson.

And also Chase Thompson, a film by Vincent Lin.

haWTneSs

9/3/09

Pause

Last night, just as I was slipping into the velvet of sleep, I startled awake.

"I DIDN'T TAKE ANY PHOTO'S TODAY."

I sat up in bed. I was wretchedly exhausted. It had been a very long day, I worked at all four of my jobs, including my job as an Actor*, and I managed to fit in twenty minutes of yoga, but no photographs. No guitar. And then the crashing realization: I'm not really an artist. I can't even keep up a simple little project. I'm nothing.

And then I decided that I was being stupid. It didn't mean anything. It only meant something if I let it. So I curled up against Michael and fell asleep. And today I got up and I worked at two of my jobs and though I didn't manage to practice yoga or guitar, I took some photographs and I sat here and I wrote a little bit. And the thing is? We all have to let ourselves off the hook. I can't do everything I want to do every single day. None of us can. It's not realistic. But I can be proud of myself for trying to do it all, instead of spending the day in dirty sweats eating ice cream in front of the TV, which I swear would be a thousand times easier. And then, as if the Universe was trying to send me a little reminder that I can in fact reach my dream, I got a check today for acting. Today, I got paid for an acting job. Sure, it was for a project I worked on with Marcia Gay Harden when I was twelve, BUT STILL. I am an actress who gets paid to act.

*I have, within the last several weeks, realized that if I don't start treating my acting career like A Career, it won't ever be A Career. I have to stop talking about it as "my shitty acting career" and start TAKING THE NECESSARY STEPS TO BOOK MY NEXT ACTING JOB. So that is what I am doing. When you hear me talk about one of my four jobs, being an Actor is one of those jobs. It is the Number 1 job. The Top Priority Job. I spend, at minimum, an hour every day doing something that can help me book that next acting job. Whether it's working on mailings, researching casting directors I want to audition for, reading the trades, or prepping for an audition, I make sure to do something every day. I have to. I deserve it.

7/15/09

Final. For Reals.

Seriously? Thank you for taking the time to watch my reel, for commenting, and for providing your honest suggestions and insight! I have tweaked it according to some really great suggestions, though I chose to keep it under a minute so that I can afford to post it on Actors Access. My agent loved it, too, which made me absolutely beam with pride. So here it is, in all it's completed glory.

p.s. If you feel like hitting it up again on YouTube, to rate and comment, that would be super awesome. And you'll win a prize*.

*I'm lying about the prize.

Watch & Comment

Ah-ight. I finished my reel last night. I'm very excited because I managed to keep it under a minute (I've heard too many times that a reel should be under a minute and I've never managed it before) and I think it's quite good. But what do YOU think? I want your opinion. Can you help me make it better?

P.S. If you like it just the way it is and you wanted to go to YouTube and rate it and comment, that would totally make my day.

Just because you can't put a bow on it

Oh, how I long to live a simple little life. When I was little I would dream about how romantic it would be to be married to a writer and live in a tiny apartment in Paris and work at the flower shop downstairs, knowing that my husband was upstairs tap-tapping at his typewriter (because of course it is more romantic to write at a typewriter than a computer). I would stop at the market on my way home and pick up greens for dinner. After, we'd sip wine and he'd dry the dishes while I washed. Then we'd curl up in bed and read until we were too sleepy. And the next day we'd get up and do it all again.

Oh, how I long for a simple little life. How tired I am of the city and living in a little apartment, how tired I am of chasing dreams and not knowing and worrying over the future. How I often feel like I'm being punished because I didn't choose a more direct career path, and that maybe, if I'd picked a "grown-up" career, I could have all the little things I want so badly. The little things like waking up in the morning and just being able to sip my coffee and visit with Michael while he gets ready for his day. Little things like having a little home and a little garden, where I could bake and cook and grow vegetables and take care of my babies and at the end of the day we'd all curl up and read a little and love a little and sleep a little. And the next day it would all start over again.

The other night I was folding laundry in the bedroom while Mike was working on some writing, Theo curled in his lap, Valentine curled on the bed amongst the clean socks, Feist on the stereo, our bellies full of something wonderful Mike had fixed for dinner, dishes drip-drying in the kitchen, and I realized what an asshole I am. I already have a simple little life. I'm lusting after something I already possess. My life couldn't possibly be any littler or any simpler. It may not look like it belongs in the pages of Better Homes & Gardens, it may not have a white picket fence around it, it may not be the cookie-cutter shape I grew up thinking it should be, but it is exactly the life I am dreaming about.

Does that happen to you? Do you ever catch yourself talking about wanting something and then realizing that what you want is actually right in front of your face, if only you'd take a moment to appreciate it? I'm really working on that. I'm really working on learning to appreciate every little moment as it happens because it is the only thing we really have. This moment right now. And when I am able to take a deep breath and stop fretting over the future, and not obsess over the past, I realize that what I've got right this second is actually pretty perfect.

And the other thing? Right here and now I resolve to never again accuse myself of not having a "grown-up" career. My career is not only something grown-ups do, but it's something that brilliant, world-changing, noble, courageous grown-ups do. In the words of the great Helen Hayes:

"When I consider how many of the world's greatest minds -- Sophocles,
Aristophanes, Shakespeare, Goethe, Moliere, Ibsen, Shaw -- have clothed their
ideas in The Dramatic Form; when I consider the enjoyment, the enrichment, and
the enlightenment that The Theatre has brought into the lives of countless
millions down through the ages -- I Become Very Proud of My Profession."

Yes, I know I've said this before, but what needs to grow-up is me, not my career. And I'm working on it, I really am. A little bit every day. See?

Leap, and I will appear.

In an ongoing effort not to feel like a complete asshole about the state of my career, I have spent some time this week putting together packages to send to casting people that I would like to audition for. It always feels like such a torturous project because I know that 99.7% of the time, it is a big waste of energy and money. But I also know that 0.03% of the time, actors get calls from cold mailings. So, it's with a heavy heart and the hope of being one of those 0.03% of people that I take pains over my cover letter and carefully cut my resume to fit my head shot, and label my demo and put it all into an envelope and buy a million dollars of postage and send it on its way. But I do it.

And also, by the way, my career just sucks right now. Career? What career? Ha. It ain't a career unless you're paying your bills with it. But it IS an adventure and holy Peter Pan, you guys, I live in Manhattan and I'm chasing my dream.

But do you know how hard I have to work to feel excited about it? Because most of the time I just feel like I'm pounding my head on a block of cement while wearing pants made out of sand paper and soaking in a tub of rotting sardines and hot vinegar. And I feel hopeless. And I just want to pack it all in and head back to sunny El Lay.

I'm in the habit of saying little prayers, asking for little signs that I'm on the right path, that I'm doing the right thing, that I should stay in New York and not catch the next plane to the sun. AND I KEEP GETTING THESE LITTLE SIGNS. It's the weirdest fuckin' thing. I feel hopeless, I ask for a sign, I get a sign. In March when I asked for a sign? I found an apartment that was not only a way better deal than the one we had, but also way cheaper than anything comparable we could afford in L.A. Then I felt hopeless again and I asked for a sign and Estelle Parsons pulled me aside after a workshop to say, "We were lucky to watch you today." Then today? Then today I started feeling hopeless again, even after putting together my mailings, even after updating my website and finally (FINALLY IT'S BEEN ABOUT A YEAR) re-editing Ashley Andrews so it isn't so long and obnoxious, I was feeling all sad and hopeless and I was sorting my mail and I got my new equity card. And it came attached to a piece of paper that said this:

"It has been said that an Actor must have the hide of a rhinoceros, the courage and audacity of a lion, and most importantly, the fragile vulnerability of an egg. It also has been said, and I'm not sure by whom, that the moment of not knowing is the moment that has the greatest potential for creativity. The professional and private lives of most Actors are filled to the brim with moments of not knowing. Actors are survivors and will continue to strive because they have the need to celebrate, in performance, that sacred communion between Actor and audience."

Robert Prosky

1930 - 2008

And I felt .... liberated.

I'm going to have that piece of paper framed.

And, because we can't take ourselves too seriously, check out the new re-edited Ashley Andrews video. If you want. No pressure.

DID YOU WATCH IT YET?

I can't quit you

This past Tuesday morning I woke up feeling like someone had punched me in the stomach. "It's over..." were the first words to float through my furry brain, even before my eyes opened.

For the last two months I've been rehearsing for a workshop of a new play and on Monday, June 1st, we presented it to The Actor's Studio playwrights/directors unit. I am all too familiar with the sadness, that terrible empty feeling that sweeps in when a show closes, but I didn't expect to feel it at the close of this workshop. It's not like I hung out with the cast every night after rehearsal. It's not like we even rehearsed more than a few hours a week. And it's not like I spent six months living in this character or even got to finish finding out who she is. It was just a workshop. A short rehearsal process, a brief exploration of all of the possibilities that this play could become.

But oh, my heart is broken.

And I'm glad it is.

For the last few months I have been so frustrated, felt so doubtful of the path I've chosen. Even after I got this gig, I was kept awake long after I should have been asleep, worried that I was just making a fool of myself. And this play was such a challenging piece that, at first, it only brought up new feelings of inadequacy and fear. After every rehearsal I wrestled with myself: Can I do this? I can't do this. I must find a way to figure out who this woman is. I have no idea who she is! I'm not worthy of her! And on and on and on. I am so dramatic. I am my own worst enemy.

And then early last week I started to get the feel of her. I started to really figure her out. And then I fell completely in love.

This is what I do. I fall in love with the characters I play. It's the only way I know how to be true to them. Even for auditions, I fall madly, deeply in love. And it's always hard to pull myself away.

This play is an incredible piece of work: Complicated, challenging, funny, desperate, brilliant, devastating. The first time I read it I had chills all up and down my spine before I'd even gotten to the fifth page. That considered, I really shouldn't be surprised that I feel so empty, so alone. And I'm grateful, I really am grateful that I feel this way because it is just another reminder that I am doing the right thing, that I am following the path I ought to follow for my heart and my spirit and my everything.

Maybe the thing is, maybe I need to be more specific about exactly what it is I want. Because part of what was so attractive to me about this project was that it was a new play, written by a new playwright, etc., etc. I love being a part of something that hasn't been done before. I was fortunate enough to have the pleasure of listening to Estelle Parsons talk after our presentation, (I won't say "performance" because it was really more like an invited rehearsal or a staged reading) about how the new generation of playwrights, directors and actors need to stand up and create something that people have never seen before. In this age of movies and Internet and 1,000 TV stations, theatre is dying. And if we don't want to be confined to the Disneyfied crap that has infiltrated most of Broadway, we need to start creating new ideas, new platforms, new performances. I just got so excited listening to her talk, it was all I could do not to rush up to her and throw my arms around her neck and beg her to take me under her wing and teach me everything she knows. I want, I want, I want to create incredible things and instead I suffocate myself with self-judgments and self-criticism and fear. But this new ache in my heart signals hope. Hope that I will be able to let go and shake myself off and give myself another chance. Deep down I know I can do this, I was born to do this. And I'm still here. I'm still doing it. It's a lot harder than I ever imagined it would be, but that will make the payoff so much sweeter.

Movin' On Up

Say Goodbye to Tenements!

Our lease is up on May 1st and after two years of tenement living, we decided not to renew it. Sure, the bitchen has been fun. And I'll really miss the fist-sized cockroaches that scurry along the hallways. And also the dingy stairwells with the lingering poop smell. And the shower ceiling that has a habit of crashing down while you're bathing. I'll miss having an apartment that is twelve whole foot-steps from the front door to the back wall. I'll surely miss the drunken ex-homeless man that lives in our basement. And our inability to use more than one electrical appliance at a time for fear of blowing a fuse and having to wait three hours for the super to come home from the bar so he can go into the basement he refuses to give anyone but the ex-homeless man a key to and change the fuse. I will also miss having to boil water on the stove to take a bath in February because the hot water has been turned off in the building - again. And the fifteen minute walk to the closest subway station. And the landlord with his gambling problem and his habit of calling us after 11 p.m. a week before the rent is due to see if maybe we could pay early because he owes his bookie. I mean, I know how lucky we've been to have all of that for a mere $1,513.90 a month. Sure, most people in most cities could rent a house with a backyard for that, but honestly? I'm not complaining. Two years in that tenement has given me a wealth of stories to possibly write one day and that's pretty valuable, I'd say. Maybe not worth the $35,806.80 we've spent in the last two years, but hey! It's only money, right?

We have really had to cut back on our expenses (thanks, recession!) so our goal was to find a new place for around $1200 a month. And we more than met that goal when we found an apartment for $977.80, but it's a little scary the downgrade we've had to make. Really.

All right, I'm totally lying. Our new Manhattan pad is ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS. I am completely in love. I even added the apartment to my list of 5 People I Can Sleep With And My Husband Won't Get Mad. (It's cool. Mike has his own list.) My list is now officially as follows:

1. Michael C. Hall
2. Michael C. Hall
3. Michael C. Hall
4. Zac Efron (He's over 18 so it's not creepy. Shut it.)
5. Our New Apartment

I digress. Our new apartment is fabulous. It's a five minute walk to the subway, a supermarket, dry cleaners, pharmacy, and restaurants. There are five beautiful parks within a 15 block radius. And the amenities! If, five years ago, you'd have told me that I'd one day think of a bathroom sink as an amenity, I'd have laughed at you. But trust me, all you bathroom-sink-takers-for-granted, a bathroom sink is a HUGE amenity.

In addition to the fabulous bathroom sink, our new apartment also has a bathtub that is not scary. It's been refinished so it looks new and it plugs and doesn't have rust stains and years of mildew that refuse to scrub off and the best part? You don't even have to climb over the toilet to get into it. You just step in. That's it. Step and you're in. You know what else we have in our new apartment? Windows that look out at sky and have sunlight streaming in. I thought it was great to move into the tenement, with its windows just a few feet from the luxury condo complex next door and the blobs of cement permanently affixed to the glass from when they built said luxury condo complex. Those windows were an improvement from the single teensy window that was inches from an enormous cement block wall in the studio I rented in Chelsea for two grand a month. At least in the tenement we could decipher whether it was day or night without having to walk outside. But our new apartment? It has six windows. SIX. And they are all huge and when you look out of them you can see sky without having to open the window and crane your neck upwards. It's lovely. Oh! And back to sinks, because I'm really thrilled with the sink situation, the one in the kitchen, that is in addition to the one in the bathroom, is GINORMOUS. And brand-spanking new. Know what else? There are six fuses in the fuse box, which is located in the kitchen instead of in a scary, dank basement that we don't have a key to and that has drunken ex-homeless people living in it. Do you know what that means? It means that, if I were so inclined, I could watch a DVD with the AC on while blow drying my hair, heating my curling iron, brewing coffee and ironing laundry. I bet you are just now realizing all the things you take for granted about your home, huh? YOU HAVE NO IDEA.

And I still haven't told you about the beautiful elevator, the clean and shiny marble stairwells, the enormous and clean laundry facility in the basement, which is also clean and well-lit and full of windows, the buzzer that works and is hooked up to an intercom system next to our front door. I didn't talk about the trash shoot which is right next to our front door and doesn't smell, not even a little bit. I haven't told you about how the bedroom has a door, a real bedroom door that shuts, and how this aforementioned bedroom with a door is larger than the tenement living room. I haven't described the new living room that is larger than the bedroom, has brand-new gorgeous french doors and the most beautiful antique wood flooring. And since I am so excited about all the things that make our new apartment so utterly, breathtakingly fabulous, I'm going to leave out the part about how the kitchen and bathroom linoleum are completely trashed and that, because the apartment is priced so far below market (thanks, rent stabilization!), they refused to replace them, so we are forced to do it ourselves. I also won't mention how the brand-new kitchen cabinets were nailed into the drywall and so hanging off the walls at precarious angles, and how Mike had to pull them down and re-hang them correctly using firring strips, screws and the wall studs. And I am most definitely going to leave out the part about how the brokers fee cost us our first and second born children and also our souls. I'm not going to mention any of those things because, bathroom sink! Buzzer! Elevator! Trash shoot! Laundry room! Sunlight! Space! Closets! Less than five minutes to train platform! HOLY CRAP YOU GUYS. WE'RE MOVING INTO A BEAUTIFUL BUILDING AND WE ARE SAVING OVER FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS A MONTH ON OUR RENT. That is totally worth using the all-caps key inappropriately.

$977.80 per month. $977.80. Nine hundred seventy-seven dollars and eighty cents. Say it with me. $977.80. Isn't that beautiful? It's my new favorite number. Move over 11! Make way for 977.80.

This is probably where an editor would tell me to shut the F up now, but I can't. Because you know what? After next week, I will never again have to bundle up and walk through rain, sleet, snow, ice and general misery to do my laundry or take out the trash. I will never again fumble to unlock my front door because my slumlord doesn't pay the building electric bill. I will never again have to put on my shoes and run downstairs to let a friend into my building. I will never again have to climb over my toilet to take a shower, bang my knees on the bathroom door trying to shut it so I can have privacy when I poop, or brush my teeth in the same sink I wash my dishes in. And that is so so so cool.

Wanna see photos? Of course you do. Click here and grab a bib because you will start salivating.

p.s. In other news, I just booked a leading role in a workshop of a very very exciting new play. I'll write more about that later. I am so excited I can't believe it's really happening. 

p.s.2. Expect posting this week to be light, what with all the packing and moving and rehearsing I'll be doing. But just think how many wonderful stories I'll have when I come back!

p.s.3. If things keep going this well, I might start to genuinely enjoy this wild metropolis I am trying to call home.

Say Hello to Luxury Living!

My fingers are in too many pies. Wait. Is "too many pies" a real thing?

I made this secret vow to myself that I would post two real posts a week (i.e. something other than videos or photos) from here on out. And I done failed, y'all. I've had my fingers in too many pies and writing got pushed to the bottom of the to-do list. But this is a new week. Let's try again.

In honor of my upcoming Life On Mars episode, which airs on ABC at 10/9c on Wed. Feb. 25, I thought I'd tell you a story from my week on the set of a network television show.

When I auditioned for Life On Mars, I had one little line to perform. It was: "If he knows I'm leaving him, he'll kill me. Tell me what to do, Sam!" And the character was described as 'frightened and has obviously been crying'. So of course, I went in all worked up, tears streaming, etc. And I got the part. It wasn't until my last day of shooting that I finally got to perform my line. I spent a good two hours in my dressing room that morning, preparing my character. I went to a university accredited acting conservatory, so I have a few tricks up my sleeve for when I need to bring myself to an emotional state. I'm not all method or anything, I don't use the Meisner technique (I don't even know what it is. Shocking!) but I've got some tricks. By the time I was called to set to shoot the scene, I was in a really raw place. The director called 'action' and I went for it. I gave him exactly what I gave him in my audition. A terrified girl, tears streaming down her face, asking her friend how to escape her abusive husband. The director calls 'cut' and says to me, "Ok. Now, I want you to do it again, only without any emotion." 

Seriously?

He calls 'action'. I do it again, emotionless. 

"CUT! Ok, that was great. Do it again, only less emotion." 

Third time. "CUT! Great. One more time, but I want you to be totally dead-pan." 

After the forth read, completely monotone and devoid of all feeling, he was happy.

We moved on, they gave me some extra lines and gave me a break to memorize them. We started shooting again and I was directed to, again, be completely emotionless. I said my lines as if I was a robot zombie and the director was thrilled. Then he says, "OK, I wanna do a close-up of your face, and I wanna see a single tear rolling down your cheek." 

"Sure!" I say, excited to finally use my acting chops. "I can do that. Just give me a minute." 

But he's not listening to me, he's looking over his shoulder and calling to the make-up department. "Who's got the menthol? I need some menthol!" He turns to me. "Have you ever had menthol in your eyes?" 

"What?" 

"You know, to cry." 

"Uh... why don't I just.. um... act?" 

"No, no, no. This is T.V. We don't have time for that."

It's still on my mind, pretty constantly.

Remember when I posted this? About all the sacrifices that actors make? Well, it was recently brought to my attention that that quote suggests that if you aren't some kind of an artist living an exciting life, then you must be a regular old boring home owner. And I was really unreasonably hurt when I discovered that someone I love and respect thought that I was trying to say that. The thing is, that is not what the quote meant at all. Not even a little bit. At least not to me.

David Ackert, the guy who I quoted (and who, by the way, I don't know anything about except that he said that and I love it) is not referring to, let alone idolizing, celebrities and famous actors. Celebrities are freaks of nature - and I mean that in a respectful way. I believe that Mr. Ackert is referring to your average working actor. He's talking about me. He's talking about the fact that I am pursuing a dream despite the very real possibility that I may NEVER own my own house. I may NEVER be in the appropriate financial situation to purchase a new car, let alone a weekend cottage. I may NEVER be in the right situation to feel comfortable starting my own family. He's talking about the fact that every single morning when I wake up, I have to deal with the reality that I have no idea where my next job is coming from. I have no idea how I will make my rent in two weeks. I don't even know if I will be able to pay my electric bill. And on top of that, my refrigerator is literally nearly empty. Not packed full of food and I just don't like what's in it. No. It's literally almost empty. Open my refrigerator and find some expired condiments and the stale heel of a loaf of bread. And I have to figure out a way to make a meal out of that. But please, don't think I am complaining. I live this way by choice - because I believe that if I persist, if I am patient, if I work hard, I will get another acting job and it will have been worth it.  (And besides, most of the time I earn enough at whatever J-O-B I'm working that I end up able to cover the rent and stuff, so it isn't all THAT bad. But sometimes it is. And that's why I'm consumed with credit card debt. And also why I no longer socialize with friends. It's too damn expensive.)

When I get called for an audition, I devote hours, days, sometimes weeks to developing a character and researching the role - I give my heart and soul. And then I walk into the audition room and open my wrists and let my heart-blood spill on the filthy floor and 99 times out of a 100 they knew before I even opened my mouth that they would not hire me because I look too young. Or I look too old. Or I'm not pretty enough. Or I'm not tall enough. Or they really wanted a redhead. But I do it anyway. I have no security, no way of knowing for sure, no health insurance, no IRA, no 401k, no savings account. But I have hope. And I work my ass off. And it's fucking terrifying. It is the most terrifying thing I have ever done in my life. Sometimes it is so terrifying that I spend months in a black hole of despair, unable to do more than function on a most basic level. And in those months, I disappear from the internets because I can't think of a single positive or funny thing to say. That's where I was for most of September, all of October and the majority of November. And then, miracle of miracles, my hard work paid off and I booked a role on ABC's 'Life On Mars'.

I posted that quote as a way of trying to clear up the despair that was fogging my brain. It had been so long since I'd had an acting job that I'd forgotten why I choose to live this difficult life. I wanted to feel a connection with other actors and feel like I'm not the only one who feels as if she is giving up everything. Because the truth is, if I'd taken another career path, I'd probably already own a house. I'd surely own a car. Maybe I'd even be getting ready to welcome a baby into this wild world - an event I have dreamt of my entire life. I do not feel like people who are not actors aren't worthy or loyal. I envy them. I envy their lovely lives and pray I might have that life one day, too. I just wanted to feel like what I'm doing has some sort of purpose. And it does.

It hurt me that that quote was taken so out of context. It's taken me a while to respond because I couldn't figure out why I took it so personally - I know I'm being ridiculous. Surely my beloved family member didn't intend to hurt my feelings. I know I have a tendency to take things WAY too personally and I'd really like to be the kind of person who lets stuff like that slide off my back. I've really had to think about it and I think what it comes down to is that I felt grossly misunderstood. And terribly unappreciated. But why should anybody appreciate the choices I make? In some ways, my life must seem pretty ridiculous. Why would I choose to be so broke that I risk having my lights turned off and I can't afford to make a grocery run? Why do I spend my electric bill money on another acting class? It's fucking crazy. It's absurd. But if I spent the time and energy it takes to earn a larger income, I would not be able to spend the time and energy required to book that next acting job. So I make the trade off. I am broke and I won't get to spend Christmas with my family because I can't afford the plane tickets or the days off from the J-O-B, hell, I can't even afford a Christmas tree. (Have you ever had a Christmas without a tree? This is my second one. Talk about bleak.) But what I get in return is the time to go to auditions. And I can't give more of an explanation than that. I can say that I've just spent a week on the set of a network television show and EVERY SINGLE DAY I had to pinch myself because I couldn't believe I was actually there. For a full week, I sat on set looking around at the lights and the props and the other actors and the make-up crew and I felt absolutely breathless. It took every ounce of self-control in my body not to break out dancing like a maniac to the constant chant in my head of "THIS IS MY JOB THIS IS MY JOB THIS IS MY JOB!" And I may not know when the next job will come along, but I know that my rent is covered this month, thank god. And I believe that another job will come along eventually and if I get to be that blissfully, perfectly happy for another couple of days, than the weeks and months of hardship in between will have been totally worth it.

You don't have to understand. You don't have to care. I just had to explain it. Maybe more to myself than to you. Believe me, I quietly envy your beautiful home, your weekend cottage, your gorgeous car, and your happy family. And I hope and pray that one day I might have a life like yours. I respect you and all that you do. I love you. And if I never get to achieve the many things that you have worked so hard for, well, maybe you'll invite me over for dinner so I can live vicariously through you? And anyway, life is a journey and I will have to find whatever good I can along the way. I am blessed with a loving family, an exquisitely supportive husband, and the wisdom to enjoy what I have - despite the fact that it is nothing like what I thought I would have at my age. 

P.S. Just in case you're wondering why my husband doesn't get a higher paying job so that we don't have to be so broke, it's because he is also an artist and he is making the same sacrifices I am making so that he can pursue his dream. This is our gift to each other. The ability to recklessly chase our dreams until we succeed or decide that another dream is calling our attention. And it is worth it. It is worth it.

P.P.S. Yes, I realize that in our current economic crisis, many many many people wonder how they will make their mortgage, rent, buy groceries, etc. I realize that I am not alone. I know that I am actually lucky, because at least I don't know how I'll pay my rent by choice. But were we not in this horrid economic crisis - fuck it. You know what I'm trying to say. Hopefully. If you don't, nothing I say will make you understand. And when I say "you" I'm not talking to anyone in particular, but to everyone and anyone who reads this. 

P.P.S.S. Can I get an award for Worlds Longest Blog Post Ever? And also maybe an award for Girl Who Takes Herself Way Too Fucking Seriously? I have definitely earned that one.

This is what's been on my mind, pretty constantly, for the last several weeks. It's keeping me awake at night, so pay close attention.

Actor David Ackert said this on his website. A good friend of mine, who is also one of my mentors, sent this to me a couple of years ago, probably when she was the age I am now, and feeling the way I've been feeling.

Actors are some of the most driven, courageous people on the face of the earth. They deal with more day-to-day rejection in one year than most people do in a lifetime. Every day, actors face the financial challenge of living a freelance lifestyle, the disrespect of people who think they should get "real" jobs, and their own fear that they'll never work again. Every day, they have to ignore the possibility that the vision they have dedicated their lives to is a pipe dream. With every role, they stretch themselves, emotionally and physically, risking criticism and judgment. With every passing year, many of them watch as the other people their age achieve the predictable milestones of normal life - the car, the family, the house, the nest egg.

But they stay true to their dream, in spite of the sacrifices. Why?

Because actors are willing to give their entire lives to a moment - to that line, that laugh, that gesture, or that interpretation that will stir the audience's soul. Actors are beings who have tasted life's nectar in that crystal moment when they poured out their creative spirit and touched another's heart. In that instant, they were as close to magic, God, and perfection as anyone could ever be. And in their own hearts, they know that to dedicate oneself to that moment is worth a thousand lifetimes.

Discuss.

I'm a Judgy Little Bitch

I am apologizing in advance for using so many capital letters all at once, but I just couldn't help myself. I'm a loud talker, too.

So, I go to this EPA* today and since they asked for a contemporary dramatic monologue, I prepared Harper from Angels in America. And like a good little actress, I worked on the monologue yesterday and today, just to make sure I had it in tip-top form. And of course it is in tip-top form because I've done the damn thing about a thousand times. So I get to my audition, I'm feeling really good, really confident, I'm wearing a new dress, I'm having a good hair day, I know this is going to be a good experience. My name is called, I walk into the audition room, I'm still feeling really confident, really sure of myself. I introduce myself, tell them what I'm doing, "Oh! Angels! Great!" says the casting director. I smile. Good foot to start out on. I take a moment to get into character and I start.

The minute I open my mouth, this big huge voice in my head starts in: "Oh. You did not just say that line like that. Oh. My. Gawd. Awful. Wow. You're really pushing. You're totally not connected. You should just stop. You should just walk out now before you make yourself look any stupider. Did you REALLY just do that with your face? How. Em. Barrasing. No, really, this is probably the worst you've EVER done in an audition. You're AWFUL! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? SHUT UP! YOU'RE COMPLETELY HUMILIATING YOURSELF." I finish the monologue, say thank you, and turn to GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE ROOM so I can run home and cry about what a terrible job I just did when the casting director says, "That was excellent!"

I freeze. "What?"

"That is a really hard monologue and you did it excellently. Really good work. Really good. I'm impressed."

"Thank you! Thank you very much!" I say as a ginormous shit-eating grin spreads across my face.

It just goes to show that I obviously have no fucking clue what I'm doing while I'm doing it so MAYBE I SHOULD STOP JUDGING MYSELF SO HARSHLY, STUPID JUDGY LITTLE BITCH. Aaaaand there I go again with the judging. But you know what I mean. I'm really grateful that she stopped me and said that to me, but I cannot rely on casting directors to stroke my ego. For reals. I have got to get a handle on this self-defeating, crippling, evil voice in my head. Any suggestions?

*Equity Principal Audition - Basically, in order for a show to be granted an Equity contract, one of the things the producers must do is hold open auditions for any and all Equity members to attend. Rumor has it that almost NO ONE actually gets cast from an EPA, but supposedly it's good to go to them anyway. I try to see them as a good opportunity to practice my audition skills. Or my audition skillz. Either way.

Almost 20,000 Views

If you haven't yet, please double click on the video so you'll be redirected to YouTube, then rate and leave some positive feedback. Let's get it up past 20,000 views!!!

xoxo

Meet Ashley Andrews

K, I gotta learn how to do this.

I am more popular than Kung Fu Panda.

I don't know how long this will last, but as of today, if you go to www.hollywoodpreviews.com and look under "Most Popular Videos" - the #1 MOST POPULAR VIDEO is The Bangkok Five Interview - Patricia Frost. It is more popular than the trailer for Kung Fu Panda. Thusly, I am more popular than Kung Fu Panda.

HOLY BALLS.

p.s. Don't tell me when it isn't true anymore. Just let me live in this moment forever.

This is rad. REALLY REALLY RAD.

Wanna see me being interviewed? This is Officially My First Interview. It will go down in history, you know. So check it out. And try not to cry from happiness.

Click here to see the joy.

Why haven't you clicked yet?