I was only twenty three when I started here... dissertation to finish, but still, twenty-three. Can you imagine?
I hate when I get to that point in a character... when I find out what I'm holding back, when I struggle to maintain energy and not slip into monotony with my lines or my actions. I hate coming to a place where, if I stopped, I know it would turn stale. The character would be as lifeless as the chair she sits upon. I hate coming to that place, because it scares me; it challenges me. It's a maze of thoughts and lines intertwined that become a maze which can either trap or benefit you. I hate coming to that place, because I'm scared I won't be strong enough to push through it. I'm scared that I look ridiculous, that everyone can see my lying self underneath the stage lights, that everyone can see what a phony I am - that instead of being two in one I am disconnected.
I hate coming to that place. But I love getting over it.
For you, I mean. I think you're the type of person who leaves a bunch of hurt in your boyish wake... all the time! I'll be hurt is your number one by-product.
I finally felt it today - I had passed through the maze. I've made it to a place where each line is a thought in words, and behind every line there is a thought unsaid that the audience can see. I can say the same lines over and over, but each time they will be different. I have come to the place where the character knows anything is possible - inflection, action, and silence, they are all free now. Unconstrained. Unencumbered by my insecurities. They belong solely to the character - her thoughts, her movements, her reasons. They are at once mine and yet, not at all.
It was your promise of a future. This big, bold future that you would whisper to me about, lying there with your eyes closed. That's what I was in love with. Tomorrow. All the tomorrow's that you kept offering me.
I hate when I get to that point in a character... when I find out what I'm holding back, when I struggle to maintain energy and not slip into monotony with my lines or my actions. I hate coming to a place where, if I stopped, I know it would turn stale. The character would be as lifeless as the chair she sits upon. I hate coming to that place, because it scares me; it challenges me. It's a maze of thoughts and lines intertwined that become a maze which can either trap or benefit you. I hate coming to that place, because I'm scared I won't be strong enough to push through it. I'm scared that I look ridiculous, that everyone can see my lying self underneath the stage lights, that everyone can see what a phony I am - that instead of being two in one I am disconnected.
I hate coming to that place. But I love getting over it.
For you, I mean. I think you're the type of person who leaves a bunch of hurt in your boyish wake... all the time! I'll be hurt is your number one by-product.
I finally felt it today - I had passed through the maze. I've made it to a place where each line is a thought in words, and behind every line there is a thought unsaid that the audience can see. I can say the same lines over and over, but each time they will be different. I have come to the place where the character knows anything is possible - inflection, action, and silence, they are all free now. Unconstrained. Unencumbered by my insecurities. They belong solely to the character - her thoughts, her movements, her reasons. They are at once mine and yet, not at all.
It was your promise of a future. This big, bold future that you would whisper to me about, lying there with your eyes closed. That's what I was in love with. Tomorrow. All the tomorrow's that you kept offering me.
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