Breaktime is OVER!

It's been a long week since my last post. I'm just now getting my groove back. I returned home to the realization that I've got so much to do before I leave for the summer, and the clock is ticking loudly on my fancy phone...Oh yeah, I lost my fancy phone, the one that keeps my schedule, records my to-dos, brushes my teeth, and makes me feel special.

I've been finding it unbelievably difficult to balance an online life with an actual one. I signed up for all of the cool social networking sites, and barely find time to keep up. I know friends of mine, real movers and shakers, who can sit with a hand on their cell phone, a nose in a laptop, an i-pod speaker in their earlobe, and yet still have a lucid, albeit less engaging conversation with me. Their might be an app for multi-tasking of which I am not aware. I find that after a day of tweeting, commenting, status-updating, etc, my mind is swimming in cyber-soup.

However, I am back on track with my posting, and right now, I am in the middle of sublet search that so far has yielded promising results. Hopefully I can simplify and automate a lot of the logistics of out-of-town work, so I can free up my mind for rehearsals and performance during the ten weeks in Massachusetts.

This is just a quickie to get me back on track. Thanks for your patience, anyone who has been consistently checking this out, and I am wishing you all of the very best.

DC Bound

This will be just a quick note to let y'all know I'll be away for a day or two, and will have more to say on Tuesday when I return. At the moment, I'm on my way to a matinee performance of Othello, and then heading out to DC in the evening:

Occasionally I get to work with a wonderful company called TrialRun. They are a consulting company that specializes in training lawyers in courtroom skills; preparation, litigation, etc. I starred in a few of Trial Run's web-cast training modules that they created for a particular client. And so tomorrow my character(s) will make a guest appearance at a conference in Arlington, VA. This will give training lawyers and lawyers in training the opportunity to practice their litigation skills in live scenarios. It's a really cool gig, I have a lot of fun doing it, and I'm totally looking forward to a solo road trip to clear my head a little.

Last night, we opened Othello so the cast and crew can all breathe a collective sigh of relief. I'm proud of the work we've all done, and it seemed to be very well received.

During this process I had been so goal-driven that I think I had forgotten how to surrender and let everything be just as it is. So I spent the day before the show contemplating that idea. I folded laundry, did some meditation, tidied my living room, and tried to be with each activity. I made conscious effort to remind myself that no matter how much my ego wants to get in the way in my performance, the evening will unfold in whatever way it is meant to. I think that idea gave me some permission to feel those nerve-pangs, without letting them undo me completely. Normally before a show or an opening, I try to align my stars; center my mind, body, and soul (the universe just laughed at me). Instead, I decided to just show up in whatever head-space I was in, and let it rip. I think it helped me get out of my own way a little.

Be well everyone, and enjoy the day.

The 'Voice Lesson' Lesson

Before the Lesson

This is my first blog-on-the-go. I'm typing it on my phone, testing the notion that my thumbs can be as expressive as the starting line-up on my hands.

At the mo, I'm on a subway/trolley car in a cavern under Mt. Washington. I'm on my way to a voice lesson, for which I'm not prepared. I'm tired, feeling flat, and I'm not sure I should be spending the few bucks I have on the lesson. But I told him I'd be there. I've got this A-1 instructor, whom I hate to disappoint. I spent the morning in a heated debate with myself about whether I'd actually show-up or call off. It went a little something like this: "It's a total 3 1/2 hour commute...but I told him I'd be there. I can't even afford the lesson...but I said I would be there. I'm performing in a Shakespearean tragedy twice today...but I shouldn't cancel!"

What's really up is that I haven't been committed to my singing at all lately. I just figured out what I have to do. To be continued...

After the Lesson

Sometimes I don't give others the credit they deserve. I decided I would tell him the whole ugly truth. And that went something like this: "I've lost my fire for this. I am vastly under-prepared, I don't think I can spare the cash, and I'm really sorry that I might be wasting your time, today." Then I winced, ready for the verbal flogging I thought I deserved.

My amazing voice teacher shrugged, muttered something akin to 'no worries' and told me a story about how when he was a young performer, had to sneak out at night and steal vegetables from neighborhood gardens for food. I took mental note of that idea, and then stood there dumbfounded at the grace he was offering me, and the wasted time worrying about yet another calamity that would never come to pass. He then spent the next forty-five minutes being inspiring as usual and coaxing my voice into 'Robert Plant-like' excellence. Almost.

He's really in it for the teaching. Thank you, TR. What I can do for him is give him my glowing recommendation as a master teacher. The universe, and I, will repay him for his kindness.

In the Garden of Good and Better

Lately, I have been inspired by the goodness in others. Some friends of mine have been reading this blog, and have responded with kindness, job opportunities, ear buds, and toilet paper. (fist-pump) For instance:

I'm going to 'hoe it up' for money outside of the city this week. Some wonderful acquaintances (soon to be friends, I'm sure; they're pretty cool) have an amazing two acres of flora outside of their house, and they are looking for a little gardening and maintenance help. I can't think of anything better than a couple of days surrounded by chlorophyll green, playing in the dirt. Not only will it be great work, away from my usual brain-grinding, it's answered prayer and will help me to 'put money in my purse'. (An Othello reference, not an indication of my actual accessory choices). Thanks again, RA and B!

Another friend of mine sent me a sweet note and a new pair of headphones. Thank you, NB! In return, I'll make her a music mix CD, including, of course, some of my morning dance party tunes that shake me like a Polaroid picture.

I'm looking forward to paying it all forward.

For your consideration

I wonder if other actors have had any success working remotely while they are out of town. I will have a very busy summer with three shows and wonder if there is work I can do for a few hours a day that requires nothing but a computer and some fast typing fingers, so that I can make some extra dough before New York in September. Universe, consider this a personal query.

Anyway, I casually brought up my interest in personal coaching as a profession in the dressing room a day or two ago, and was met with some good natured, albeit negative perceptions of the industry. I have some deep convictions about things, but a lot of times, I can be easily influenced and shaken by the opinions of others, especially those I like and respect. These comments could have taken the cliched 'wind right out of my sails' . What struck me this time is that I was totally unfazed by the mildly disparaging remarks. It felt good to know that that this particular conviction was deeper than the good opinions of my well-intending pals. I mean, a profession that inspires people, helps them to become what they want to become and achieve greater and greater dreams...sounds pretty awesome to me.

From a Trench in Venice/Cyprus

I'm hanging backstage during the first half of a twelve hour rehearsal. My notebook computer is humming away in the over-lit guys communal dressing room...It's probably the loveliest day of the season in Pittsburgh, and 15+ dedicated practitioners have forgone a lazy Saturday BBQ to drag around swords and 7 lb. headgear. And the men are armed, too. I've met many an actor who loathes tech rehearsal (marathon rehearsal events when all design elements come slowly together)...

But I dig it. I love the stopping/starting so I can take a breath and reflect on choices I've made. AND after a few hours of tedium, everybody gets a little punch-drunk, and I magically become hilarious. Tech is my comedy roofie.

Roderigo Character Development Status: My body is being remotely controlled by an alien. Moving on.

I've been thinking (for a few years now) about starting a personal coaching business, and and a few nights ago I stumbled on a website featuring a former theater grad who is doing exactly want I want to do, exactly how I'd like to be doing it. I may send her a supportive message and ask her just how she got started. Mostly because she seems to love what she does and that's what it is all about, right. And, hey, if you're considering a career change and/or an injection of creativity, check her out, and let me know what you think. You can find her HERE.

Decision New York: Still on, but I'm with some reservation. Reason tells me, 'hold up, homey, and think this through, mr. precarious-bank-account-balancing man', and inner-child says, 'oooh, pretty lights!' Maybe I need to trust the rotation of the earth and see how it all plays out over the next couple of months. After all, (Iago:) 'There are many events in the womb of time which will be delivered;)'

I'm also adopting that as my new pick-up line.

Back in Black

Payday! If anyone's been following closely, I was hanging by a tiny financial thread for a weak or so. And I made it, with 279 pennies to spare in my checking account (They are holding mine in pennies now). Some close calls, but had more than enough to eat, and even found 5 bones to catch Iron Man 2, which is a tax write-off for actors, right? So tomorrow I get audited. Just kidding. More impressively, I did it without freaking out. I'm a proud pauper. The universe sent me a message in the shape of my last free-range all natural chicken breast. Here it is. Sorry veggie friends.

Hot Rod...Not So Hot.

We started rehearsal at about three o-clock with a review of Act II and then ran the whole show for the first time, so it was a little rocky, as to be expected. Personally I felt like I (Roderigo) was stuck in an uninspired fog, that followed me from the wings on each entrance. I was having a great time off stage, mind you. Chatting up my cast-mates, little cup of coffee...good times.

I know the lines, I generally know my blocking, I think I know my job. And I feel pretty safe. Wait, did you hear that? It's the alarum bell of dreadful acting to come, ringing in my ears. The danger is in thinking I can show up and expect to find more in just playing it, repetition, and generally I do. But what I truly feel I should do is tear open my script, see what else I can find, get really specific about each moment and action I'm playing, and above all, make sure I'm telling the story. And here's another career-risking admission: This is precisely the point where I've gotten lazy in the past. Good for me. I might be growing.

Thank you all for keeping me accountable, even if you didn't know you were.

Oh Brother, How Art Thou?

Today is my big bro's birthday. We don't talk much. We're cool, we're just inherently different people. He's got two precocious redheaded boys, good steady work, a wonderful wife, and lives close to where we grew up. Where I spent most of my childhood making music and learning to juggle, he spent his silently battling it out on the wrestling mat, soccer field, and baseball diamond. And I admire the guy more than I've ever told him.

So we don't connect on a lot of issues. He's not a man of many words. We're not gonna discuss Eastern philosophy, unless I can tie it in with the Yankees line-up. We never talk about what I do, and we certainly never talk about our 'feelings'. It's just how we roll.

So, this past Christmas, I'm visiting the family, making the rounds, and he calls me up to grab lunch. The dynamic is familiar...I puff out my chest a little to prove I've still got some testosterone, and he's half preoccupied with a game on a big screen above the bar. And out of nowhere he asks me, "So...what's it like being an actor, really? Tell me about some of your roles." I laugh, look down at my fries, and give him some stock answer, and then I realize he's asking me for reals. He's curious. So, I go with it and just start talking. Then he wants to know how I do it, what's the process. After awhile, I'm telling him stories of forgotten lines, missed entrances, and he's laughing it up, genuinely engaged. He gets it.

Then I get it. Dude's proud of me.

He may never actually say the words, but that experience continues to inspire me. And maybe next time I see him, I'll deflate my chest, put my voice in my normal higher register, and tell the guy I'm proud of him too. He's the most authentic guy I know. Happy Birthday, man. You're awesome.

The Sound of Broken Earphones-Frugalicious

I broke my ear-buds for my eye-pod. I am no longer 'plugged-in'. My generation and younger won't travel very far without white wire necklaces pumping compressed audio. (Check out this article in the New York Times about diminishing sound quality in music today) Since I've been making it a habit of walking my 'frugalicious' booty to rehearsal and back, I've been experiencing the sounds of just normal life sounds mixed with a little silence. Besides my necessary morning routine of freestyle party dancing with Outkast, Black-Eyed Peas, and a host of others, I might take some time before I plug back in. Oh, Life before the reign of MP3.

Looking for Roderigo

It's only days until rehearsal turns tech turns preview turns opening night, and I haven't quite found that 'thing'. The 'thing' to me is always some image, some flaw, some music, something that makes the character real in my head, and helps me to click in and embody it. A flash of inspiration that takes me out of the lines, and into the moment. Here's a scary admission: sometimes I never find it. And yet other times, it's there at first rehearsal. And it doesn't matter how close 'I' am to the character or not. I don't feel like I'm making terrible choices, or that Rod doesn't have some life. But the 'thing' isn't there. Yet.

I'm gonna try this idea where you write down a question for your subconscious mind to mull over while you sleep. It'll go something like this: Rod, buddy, thou must show thyself to me pal, 'cause opening night is drawing nigh, and no one wants to see me loseth my s@$# all over the Shakespearian stage. It's high time for a quiet reread.

Toilet Paper or A Can-Opener - Life's Ultimate Conundrum

Day #2 of my (latest) financial wake-up call. I was graciously escorted to yesterday's Othello rehearsal by a friend in the cast, the father of my beloved Desdemona. When we got there, I was offered a free ticket to see the opening of Pittsburgh Playwrights production of August Wilson's Jitney (which was wonderful).

Saturday night entertainment? Check. Money spent: $0.00

Late after the show, I took a portion of that two-digit number in my account and bought a few staples. Upon realizing that it was office supplies I needed the least, I returned the staples and bought some bread, milk, and a few canned goods.

Then...a double whammy. Famished after a long day of acting, spectating, shopping, and returning, I grabbed a can of some fresh albacore, only to remember that not but 22 hours earlier, my only can-opener had suddenly trisected, clanging into the sink after a fight with a robust can of Campbell's Selects 'something' Noodle Soup. Flash-forward, now, to a teeth brushing session, when I looked down to see 1/8 of a inch left on...sigh...the final roll of toilet paper.

So began a curious debate in my head on the merits of each household item, and if, heaven forbid, one was forced to choose, which item would be seen as more essential? It's not really cut and dry (pun brilliantly unintended). Let's say you have a healthy stack of canned items, and some rough generic brand paper-towels... Anyway, you better believe I'm changing my 'desert island' answers after this week.

And then, another little blessing: I came across a receipt for a haircut I got during the last show...fully reimbursable by the theater company! Now, fifteen big ones doesn't sound very big at all, but it pulled me right out of the mental ring where Signor Can-Opener, and Herr Toilet Paper were ready to come to blows.

The point? I'm finding that when I am looking for the blessings, the little miracles, they just naturally appear. (I think they're always happening in the first place). And when funny little hiccups occur, it's fun practice for me to say, "I wonder what little reminder of goodness is on its way to put this into perspective." Then I reach for a glass of water.

'Money Matters.' An Experiment

Well, I don't know how this happened, but somehow in my human development, I skipped a few necessary life-skills (probably so I could go have fun creating things). You know Abraham Maslow's pyramid of self-actualization? Neither do I, apparently. Since I've been doing some consistent work on stage these past few months, I thought I could ditch the side job as a barista, and free up my time to focus on my stage endeavors. So why am I so surprised that there is a (low) two-digit number of dollars in my account that has to last me until Thursday of next week? OK, so before I start the self-abuse, and lay to waste any remnants of self-esteem, I am going to attempt to change my mindset. This will be a 'Challenge'...survivor Actor. I have a bag of rice, half a bag of pasta, peanut-butter (very low on jelly), 7-8 eggs, etc. I can walk to rehearsal...I am A-OK. AND my time at home, not being social, can be given to reflection, where maybe I can get to the root of the thoughts that create the scarcity.

Here is a starting point for me. I have a belief that money and art do not mix. They do not play well together. So I relegate money to the role of 'survival...helper.' Not uncommon for artists, or anyone, especially since our current collective economic belief is aligned with a sense of lack. What if I start to see the flow of money as a measure of my ability to make contributions? Hmm. I'm on to something. If I can drill it into my foggy subconscious head that money is just a resource that allows me to feed my passions and redistribute that energy in a productive and expansive way, I bet I would start to see some change in how I spend my time and my money. This will be my homework, and I will report my progress, and you can be my accountability partner. More to come, and I wish you all abundance as I find it in myself!

Summer Acting...Summer Living It.

Did you get that?

So it is official. I will spend my summer in Chester, MA, to do a Trilogy of plays by Arlene Hutton, the first of which is called Last Train to Nibroc. I owe the
gig to two relatively new actor-friends of mine, who threw my name into the mix when the artistic director was trying to fill the role. The lesson? You never really know how you'll land your next job, so remember to be authentically you. It's going to be a wild summer of repertory theater, can't wait to write about it. And I wish my friends long fulfilling careers in the business.

But first things first, and Othello is priority. I have the great pleasure of sharing scenes with an excellent actor a few years my senior, and who just really knows his craft. Disclosure: I sometimes feel the pangs of actor insecurity when I am working with such well-seasoned vets of the stage. Perhaps in my mind, history has given them a special-edge of confidence and knowledge of their capabilities. And I fight thoughts of, "Oh man, they are going to see right through me...catch me not listening, etc." It isn't easy going toe-to-toe with actors you admire, who seem to know how to commit to an action and a moment with clarity, precision, and confidence. And so I am constantly asking myself how I can rise to the occasion. How can I manifest those same abilities and craft that I know I have in myself? After all, I have an equal responsibility to bring my very best to the scene with all I have to offer.

Preparation (with a spin)

Have you ever heard this line from director, "I don't care what you do, just do something!"? I'll be bold and extend that thought to the work outside of rehearsal. It doesn't much matter WHAT I do, it's just how long I do it that helps build my confidence, knowledge, ability to let it all go at rehearsal. Have you ever been so intimidated by a difficult acting situation or scene, that to even look at the script outside of rehearsal causes a subtle or not so subtle anxious tremor in your stomach? I certainly have. It's what I do after that moment of stand-off that really counts. Make good friends with your text, your journal, or whatever else you do outside of the process. I have consistently found that the amount of time I spend 'working' outside of rehearsal, the greater the ability to let it all go when I hit the stage.

Best to all, and see you at the Nibroc Festival.