An interview

“I know there are a lot of people who say they’re actors.  Actresses.  They all think they have the talent.  They all do.  How could you do it if you don’t?  You don’t get into film or stage, or really even television if that’s your thing.  It’s not my thing, it could be when I’ve had some time or the role is juicy enough or I’m doing someone a favor, just not right now.  Something on premium cable.  But if you don’t believe in yourself then you’ll never be more than a community theater stand-in.  You have to know you’re good enough.  In an audition you have to look at the competition and-, no, you know what?  You don’t even look at the competition.  They aren’t your competition.  You are the only person for that role.”

“I did theater in school, yes.  Of course.  It’s where we all start.  Or most of us.  It’s hard though.  It’s hard being at a level where you know you’re good and you can see yourself being up there.  High up there in the lights, while you have Johnny Football joining the cast because his girlfriend, the cheerleader, asked him to do something with her.  It’s difficult but you’re always going to work with obstacles and if you’re as good as you know you can be, you can look past it.  Right?”

“I don’t want to have that story-, do you know how many times I’ve heard it?  That story where the girl from Tulsa comes out to Hollywood and lands a big acting role.  I’m not the small town girl next door.  I don’t want to be typecast into being her, or anyone.  I want to be the chameleon who is unrecognizable from one role to another.  Everybody knows that when a woman gets to a certain age she becomes the mom.  Then the grandmother.  Then you’re out of the business.  Women don’t get acting jobs past 50.  I don’t want to spend my prime years being the innocent girl.  The victim.  The best friend.  I can do more than that.  I am more than that.  My talent is more than that.”

“I read scripts.  I go online and I print off my favorite monologues and I read them.  Or, not even monologues.  The best roles.  Sometimes, even, the male roles.  The ones with meat.  The roles that are remembered and have heartbeats stitched into the words.  I’ll read them into the mirror.  I’ll scream them into my window’s reflection at night.  I’ll cry them into my dinner.  Different scripts from different genres.  I’m trying to round myself into something that can’t be pegged by a look or a tone.  This business is so hard but it isn’t business.  Its art and you can’t stifle art.”

“I would never do-, or I can’t say I would do it.  Nudity.  No.  It’s not something I ever wanted to get into.  My body is-, I don’t know though.  You know?  I am not that type of actress.  I’m not the one who will do that.  It’s-, I don’t want to be the sex symbol.  I don’t want to be the pretty face.  I am an actress and I don’t need to show my body on screen to act.  There are roles where I would though.  Absolutely.  Yes.  Yes.  Of course.  I can’t say no.  No.  I can’t.  I can see myself doing a nude scene, or a sex scene.  Yes of course.  It would have to be integral to the plot though.  To push the story.  Or, if not the story then the character’s motivation.  I am a firm believer in the characters arc having to be fully told to truly get the most from a role.  If she needs to bare herself for the camera then I can do that.  I am absolutely able to do that.  Yes.  Oh yes, of course.  Sometimes it’s necessary.”

“To tell a story, that’s why we all get into acting.  It’s why anyone acts.  It’s why anyone wants to be an artist.  No matter if its a painting, a script, a dance or acting out a scene; it’s always art.  We are all artists bringing our tools to the stage and showing everyone beauty.  My tool is my depth.  The emotions I can convey through being everyone.  I can be you.  Yes.  Absolutely, yes I can be you.  With enough studying I can be anyone and redistribute that truth to the audience.  That is why we’re all actors.  That is why we do this.  To tell truth, even in the lies.  And it’s why I believe that actors and actresses are famous and need fame.  They need the attention of the people they are entertaining because if they aren’t conveying their art then they aren’t feeling alive.  We live-, we need to live through the expressions that we cause.  We need to see the effect we have on the people.  I am an actress because I am truth.  I am bringing you all the truth.  And, its funny you see.  I’m bringing you truth through lies.  I’m not me when I’m art, I’m everyone.  Yet, at the same time I’m a little bit of me.  It’s funny and profound and just, yeah.”


My Kingdom For Some Focus

I was thinking on the drive in to work tonight.  It wasn’t any kind of epiphany or anything as I had pretty much determined the general theme of my lack of focus but I think I narrowed it down to where I can explain it to myself with a little more clarity:

When writing I need time to wander around the page.

What I think this means is that I can’t have something looming in the distance.  It stamps down on my creative process because my mind really is a Jackson Pollock painting.  I don’t often try and keep it boxed into an idea.  Often I’ll just open the hatch and let it run off into the wilderness while it picks up words in the brambles.  Thankfully the words often line up properly.

So when I’ve got a deadline in the near future I feel like the door won’t open.  The latch is stuck.  The paint can has rusted shut and someone locked up the brushes.

My best writing day, Sunday, I am able to take my time.  I saunter across the page, often blank, and check the corners.  I’ll stretch out and spin and yell to hear my echo.  I’ll leave the page blank and wander off, knowing its there and that I have plenty of time to come back to it.  Then I’ll find something, see something and my eyes will widen.  I’ll smile and I go running back to the blank page and begin to throw the ropes of paint on the canvas.

It usually builds from there.  I’ll spend hours pumping out words and thoughts sometimes.  Three or four hours will go by and I’ll look at the clock and not exactly wonder where the time went but be surprised it sneaked off so easily without me noticing.  It doesn’t fly as much as it closes the door without me noticing to leave me to myself.

When a deadline, even if its an hour or so away, I can’t stroll.  I can’t stretch.  I feel like I have to get the words out now because what happens if, in an hour, I’ve finally hit my stride and I have to stop.  All of that wasted creativity and surge of words would be crushing.  So, instead, I waste my time and complain about later like I’m doing now.

This is how it is.  Maybe saying it out loud will give me a little something.

I did jack shit today.  Slightly more yesterday.  I’m hovering around 8000 words.  I should be at nearly 12000 by the end of today.  I’m falling behind.  God damnit Rose, there is enough room for both of us on that freaking door!