I'm writing this on President's Day and we're getting more snow. Occasionally, the wind will blow enough to send a flurry off of the roof and obscure my view of the neighborhood. I'm rather glad to not have to be out in this stuff.
The cabin fever, however, is starting to get to me. I know I have plenty of projects to work on, but I'm missing getting out in the world. Fortunately, I've been working on a show ("I Love you, You're Perfect, Now Change!") which opened last weekend, but it's a very limited run and I only have two more performances left. I also have to wait 5 more days for those final performances.
Performing is actually my first love. When I wasn't well over the last year, I stopped performing because a) I didn't know when I'd have a spasm and b) what if I couldn't perform anymore? Besides that, I had already planned on trying my hand at a design career. When that looked as though it was really not going to happen, I became ill. Enter the dreaded mis-diagnosed nervous breakdown.
Everybody's got their something, goes the song (Nikka Costa, in case you're unfamiliar), and into my 40s I still feel like I don't know what that something is. If it's what I think it is, why in the world does it have to be something that is so difficult to break into and actually get paid for doing? I love performing and creating, but I fear selling out.
I have a friend who does art on commission. The person says, "I want something that looks like this." She makes it. Now that something can be anything from custom wedding invitations to a portrait of a baby, a Mad Hatter's Hat or a company logo. I think to myself, "I could never do that. I don't want to be beholden to someone else's ideas." But I fear my own ideas are unworthy.
This of course is just one of many ways that I hold myself back from doing what I love. Yet I still think, as I'm working on my own ideas, that no one will like what I have to offer, even though there's plenty of evidence to the contrary. This isn't just my artwork, this applies to my stage work as well. For example, I've auditioned multiple times for a certain professional company and have yet to be hired. In the back of my mind, way deep in the recesses, there's a teensy weensy voice that tries to remind me that most times it's all what the director has in mind before auditions even happen. That voice is always drowned out by the one that says, "You suck. Why do you bother?"
The thing is, I don't suck. So, why don't these people who are casting realize this? I go into auditions prepared, looking good, and... terrified. They must sense this fear. Like horses, they can smell it. I've tried for years to fix this and cover it up. It hasn't always worked, that's for sure. In fact, there was a time when I lived in New York when I developed agoraphobia and couldn't leave to house on my own. I'd get just so far down the street and I'd have to turn back. Eventually I quit going anywhere alone and would manage to convince my friends that hanging out at my place was a great idea (they seemed to buy into this, too, so I must've been doing something right).
To this day, I won't leave the house unless it's either necessary or I feel the odds are with me. Sadly, if it turns out the odds were agin me, I stay home again for long periods of time. This winter has not helped the situation. The cold weather wreaks havoc on my fibromyalgia and since Minnesota has been below zero for the majority of winter this year, it has been quite easy to give in to those old voices in my head.
I actually made a New Year's Resolution to get dressed every day. For most of last year while I was dealing with my illness, I lived in my pajamas. Heck, I'm writing this in my pjs right now (it's before noon, so I'm safe).
Nope. I just guilted myself into getting dressed.
Anyway, it must be true that you are what you wear, at least to a certain extent. I mean, I practically dressed like a character I was auditioning for and still didn't get it, and I did really well at the audition, but directors have a vision for a show. Sometimes you fit that vision, other times, you don't. It's the hardest lesson for an actor to learn.
However, when I take the time to change from pj pants to jeans, put on some socks, run a comb through my hair and wash my face, I feel a bit freer, a bit more ready to face the world if I must. Even if I'm not dressed to the hilt, at least I'm not in my pjs. I always thought it would be great to spend my days not needing to get dressed, lounging in my jammies. It's not that great. Oh, maybe once in a while, when you're feeling sick enough to stay in bed, sure. By all means, stay in your jammies. But I have to say, even though most times it's just jeans and a t-shirt, getting dressed every day has been a major mood lifter. Isn't it funny how something so mundane can make such a difference? I get dressed and go down to my shop to work, I'll go to the store rather than call my husband and ask if he can pick something up. There still aren't a whole lot of places I must go in a week, and once the show is done on Saturday, I'll be back to just going to the store, the credit union and taking the boys to school in the morning, but at least I'm dressed.
This is one reason why I've decided to do the Friday Field Trips, to help me get out of the house more often, give me a reason to get up, get dressed and do something in the world. So, since this Friday is the first field trip, I hope you'll consider joining me, if you're in the area. I'd love that. I will be at JoAnn's in Edina at 10 am. Please email me to let me know you're coming so I can expect you. totallytoots10@gmail.com
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