This is it, surrounded by church windows as they hold directing for actors at Riverside Church uptown. No color, clear, a bloom. The fluorescent lightning kills the space, though. I know a couple of people who would bring lamps. They would honor the sacredness of the space even if it’s on the 12th floor, and it looks like a cheap rehearsal room. I would Peter Brook this shit. For sure. S p a c e.
It’s about the space.
I love hearing this student talk about how nervous she was working with actors. We’re this weird entity — “they gotta understand the FRAME, the STRUCTURE they are in.” Deep. That touched me deeply, that comment. Now imagine this directing teacher giving this monologue in relation to my life right now as it applies — about seeing a first read, “I didn’t do what I needed to,” the student said, “but we got through it,” the teacher said.
The scene went really well. It’s so nice, so encouraging to feel myself dusting off the old shelves and really giving it a go — and feeling I’m getting better, literally, as though I’m already good. I’m improving. I wanted to see what it would be like to act now that I don’t have all this shit holding me back because I thought, maybe this was what I really wanted to do… why I didn’t, I’m telling you, I don’t know. I just love it. No more nerves. I took care of those, that was the easiest hurdle, it turned out. She’s hurt, not cruel. That’s it, that’s all I needed to know.
And of course the line that so resonated with me personally which was, “we didn’t think we’d be living here for 25 years, we thought we’d move somewhere better by now,” and here we are with you fucking up. I worked all day and night which was true. And LARRY, there’s so much in a name, it turns out, “what are you doing on the computer?”
I was successful in really communicating the reality of it. I thought I would be somewhere else.
There’s a blond student always smiles at me, so happy to see me, whenever I am in this class. She thinks I’m amazing. And, for the first time in my life, almost, I said, “thank you.” Because I wanted to be. It doesn’t matter if I’m in a class, you know. It doesn’t even matter if I’m not exactly amazing yet. That’s what I wanted. I think I’m good at this. Please ask me to do more of this…
The teacher said I reminded her of this actress who played the mother, just forgetting her name. So I’ll watch what she’s done. “A young” this person. I keep getting that. “A young x.”
I saw a job listing for teaching three year olds French, I might be able to get it. It’s a small gig, but it pays something, Jesus, and maybe it will be funny. As a scene.
“We are in a SPACE.”
“This is a room.”
“This is a wall.”
“This is a door.”
lol.
Picturing how I would teach these children French. “Time to dance!”
“J’aime bouger! Okay!”
I’m going to be exhausted as I work tonight, tomorrow morning, and I’m filming a scene tomorrow morning at 8am. I’m up at 5am on the weekends and I’m going to need to work extremely fast. I should have asked for it off. I’m just terrified I’m never going to have any money ever again. Maybe I’ll text them tomorrow that an emergency came up. Maybe, when I’m leaving work. I need to nail this one. It’s a good scene.
She was in class smiling at me too. Alice, she wrote a hilarious scene between a piano teacher and her 12 year old pupil, and she goes, “is it the pedal?”
And I’m like, “the pedal? I told you to THINK.” Why am I not thrown into a world of pain? She told her to THINK about the wounds tormenting her soul. All these hilariously intense thoughts. And then she gives this hilarious monologue that I could seriously relate to… abandoned, imagine? By COWARDLY men, it turns out, and betrayed by cruel DON GIOVANNIS? Coming to discover that?
I need to see BUG, Carrie Coon, so hot right now. And I have to think, how am I going to make money? I wonder if I can find another way. I really didn’t want to talk about my family, to be honest. And the guru’s response really really demonstrates what a nightmare it was. For me. So I’ll figure it out, not meditate. Or try to find ease, because sometimes the best ideas come when you’re not thinking.
And the thing is, writing isn’t the worst idea, but I don’t know how to make this work for me. It doesn’t work. My approach was off. I can see, “oh look at her,” right? “Oh,” in a good way, “look at her…” writing for X, and she’s figuring out how to act…
It’s just — what? What do I want to write about? I have no idea! What are my interests, and this is where Barbara Harris and I hang out— we do not KNOW. We have no idea. “Um,” we get self conscious, sincere about “how nice it is to meet people…” but I’m going to take a deep breath and figure out what it is I like to read. Like, sure, I can talk about “crazy family problems” but what does that mean practically?
I’m going to spend some time reading the pieces these editors have written, as they are true story writers. But they’ve reported too. That’s the thing, I looked then up, I SAW what they did, and it was NOT what I did. I suppose I needed to work out the help problem, lots of things. It does not help. You might not be helping.
And all these influences that once crowded my mind and soul are practically gone… thank God. I wish I could find an expert psychologist to talk to about that — it was my whole life. And I picture myself bursting into a room in the throes, turning to Jared Leto: “is it true?!!!”
“JARED LETO —“ loud and clear — “is it TRUE?!”
I’ll finish this story for EPIC, but I’m needing to read, and just assess what I like, and how to write about my experience…if that’s what I want to do, but it’s not really about me, not on that one, if there’s something in it that could benefit someone, you know? That’s the point, or it contributes something to the convo. So I’ll see. Gotta go work in a restaurant now. It’s not bad. I just don’t want to be here. It’s fine, I just need to keep moving.