Fight The Dawn
An Abstract Legacy

Archive: Jul 2017

Selah

Comments Off on Selah

If you don’t share what you have, you’re gonna live a lonely life.
– David Bamberger

It’s been 2 years since I’ve started acting and 1 year since I’ve been writing. I ask my self now, in this moment of selah, this moment of reflection, what have I learned? What have a I achieved? What is next? I have learned that perspective is vital and important.

This past year has been a tumultuous year. I was cast in my first stage production, as well as my first film production. Both of those projects being wildly different experiences and lot of long weekends. I added on to my class repertoire to be a full-time 5 night a week acting student. I started a web series film project with two close friends and stepped up my audition outings. It has been a blur of a past year with learning to deal and manage my new busy lifestyle.

In looking forward to next year it only seems that my life will get busier. I have the opportunity in front of me for this next year to be the busiest and most successful, or for it to be a year of total failure. This dichotomy of possibility has absolutely thrilled me but mainly it has abjectly horrified me. I’m scared. I feel like I am losing my mind. The more I learn the more I feel I don’t know. I feel like I have no idea what acting is. The scariest feeling being that I feel like I don’t have a direction at the moment.

See, every year I have a goal or plan on what I am going to do. I had a goal last year to get out and audition more and I did that. Which, in turn, led to my first two productions. This next year there are a lot of goals for different productions and a goal for getting into a training program abroad. As well there is always the overarching goal of moving out to LA and making the big leap into the professional acting world. These all sound nice in looking forward to this next year but I feel like I’m doing that on very shaky ground. I’m suddenly out of my comfort zone and with that comes the instinctual desire to want to seize control. I want to steer this ship back into that comfort zone but at the same time I still have these goals, dreams, and aspirations. My ego and my soul are locked in battle and so my mind drifts off, trying to stay afloat, with no direction clear as of yet.

This is where perspective comes into play. I’ve been in the trenches too long, not lifting my head to see the greater scope of it all. That singular focus has led me astray and festered all my fears of failure and rejection. I am very much out of my comfort zone. I’m putting myself out there, in this next year, to potentially face failure at every turn. That scares the shit out of me. Yet, I know that I can never go back to my comfort zone. I will never be happy there again. I have to step out.

I went to a premiere of Macbeth up in Flagstaff the other night to see a friend perform. She was magnificent. There were a lot of magnificent actors up there that night. And I could see at times some nerves come out in some, it was an overbooked sold out opener, but even greater than that I could see their eyes alight and alive in the thrill of being up there on stage. Meeting them after the show they were so full of energy and buzz. They were truly alive. It reminded me of why I do this. Why going back to my comfort zone is impossible now. Why I can stand up against the possibility of outright failure in this next year. Because without that risk of failure there is no chance, no opportunity, to take part in the highlights and the thrills our art can afford us.

…who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.
– Theodore Roosevelt (The Man in the Arena)

That perspective shift has given me my direction for this year. Nothing risked is nothing gained. This next year will be a year of huge risk taking, that I am sure of. What comes of that, be it abject failure or amazing success, time will tell. Either way I’m going to go for it and will continue to go for it into the next year and the year after that. I can accept the failure. What I cannot accept is living with the regret of never putting it all on the line.

Quiet Home

Comments Off on Quiet Home

This house is a lot of things. It is cold. The ocean breeze floats up this gentle hill swirling around through this woody enclave before it wistfully leaves to continue on east. It is warm. The villus of the carpet stretch out to sneak in past the gaps of the toes wrapping them in a warm embrace. It is comforting. Passing forth across the threshold I can feel all weight being lifted off my shoulders and a familiar ease enter into my bones. Above all, this house is quiet.

Every time I come to this house it sits quietly on this hill. A deafening silence embraces me through every hallway and room I walk through. I stand out on the balcony to look across the ocean and feel the breeze and it is quiet—still. At the same time this house is alive and noisy. As I sit hear covered in the silence, the walls speak with such volume the numerous memories they hold dear.

I hear the laughter of my childhood, the joyous exclamations of my fortunes and exploits, and the many cries of my pains. It has been many years since all these and still this house echoes them as if they had happened yesterday. As my hands run across these gentle walls ancient memories come back to life, to replay in my mind. It remembers better than I do. I can feel it talking to me, reminding me of all that we shared.

It sits here, steadfast, in this present quiet awaiting me to make a sound. Patiently longing for more memories and moments to be added to its brimming structure. But I have no sound to make anymore, no more memories to share. Others fill this house now. Their laughter, screams of delight, and tears fill this place. Their memories are now embedding themselves in this grand majestic place. Adding on to the memories that laid the foundation of my life…continuing the future so bright.

This house is home. I shall never live in it again but it will always be home.