Blair Arcade

Victorian Remains
Originally uploaded by cafeapolis

I've recently spoken of this building as sitting on my favorite corner in Minnesota. My favorite coffee shop is on the ground floor, and Garrison Keillor's bookshop is behind it. This picture is from the ugly time of winter, so the sky is cold, grey, and unflattering. But if you ever visit me, this is where I will take you. I love it there. It's magical.

It's Here!

It's Here!
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

It arrived. I watched the postman put it in the mailbox. I went to get it out of the mailbox. And then I took pictures.

I have my fifth audition of the week and my first callback tomorrow afternoon. And I had an acting class on Monday afternoon. I sort of feel like a real actor.

That said, I've been mulling over a post about the realities of being a working actor in these here times; debunking some myths, I suppose.

1) Not all actors are rich. I sometimes feel that when people find out I've done a few commercials that they think that I ride around in limousines. Not true. I still drive myself. In a limousine. Kidding.

2) Not all actors are poor. Some of us, do, indeed, make some money. I know the stereotype of the desperate actors, doing monologues in their living room and always waiting for that "big break," but I know quite a few people here in Minneapolis who, while they do have a part-time job of some sort, make money as actors. We're not rich, but we're working.

3) There is no big break. Oh, sometimes someone gets a starring role on a hit show from their very first audition, but the chances are extremely slim. We hear these stories sometimes, that "such and such" was an "overnight sensation," but the truth is most likely that "such and such" had been doing small parts in shows no one saw, auditioning everywhere, dragging their family up and down the emotional rollercoaster, and spending scads of money for headshots and clothes and travel. They hustled, making sure casting agents and directors knew their name and remembered them, and finally the right part came along, and they were in the right place at the right time. (An alternate scenario would be that they work hard to get their name out and the right part comes along but the rest of the show if a flop and they have to start all over again. No such thing as a big break.)

4) Actors are crazy. While we do have a flair for the dramatic, we're quite sane. We may appear crazy if most of the people in your life are...stoic, but we're not. (Okay, some actors are really freaking crazy. But those are generally the "not working" types.)

5) Actors are just "messing around" until they get a real job. Surprise! This is my real job, and I like it just fine. It's frustrating and heart-breaking and awful sometimes, but it's also exhilarating and life-giving and wonderful sometimes. And sometimes I get paid to do it. So I'll keep plugging away at it for a while.

Crazy-Eyed John H. Stevens

Crazy-Eyed John H. Stevens
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Minnehaha Park is, according to my vote, the best park in Minneapolis. This statue is not the best statue in Minneapolis. It is interesting, however. The man represented was the first settler in what would become Minneapolis, and his last house was moved from its location to Minnehaha Park in the 80s, and opened as a museum in 1989.

Basilica Block Party

My friend Nate's band, 2 Wurds, was one of the finalists for the Basilica Block Party Battle of the Bands, and they ended up being one of two winners. Nate asked me to work the merch table for them, and in exchange, I got into the concert for free. Sweet!

Originally I didn't have a guest pass and thus did not get to go hang out backstage with 2 Wurds. However Clarence - who's real name is Nate - did a little wrangling at the press booth and I got a media pass, which enabled me to saunter on backstage and hang out with the cool kids. Woo! Backstage! Thing was, it was so nasty out that the other bands kept to their air conditioned tour buses when they weren't performing. After G. Love's set, though, he came out to sign autographs and take pictures.



Check it out on Flickr.

Changes

Hey. I'm uploading my new site layout. Don't freak if you can't get to something.

Progress

Progress
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

It always seems that the motivation to get moving comes right on the heels of the desire to never move again.

I cleaned my room today, purged incredible amounts of paperwork, finally hung my mirrors that used to hang in my apartments, and a shelf that I purchased almost two years ago and NEVER PUT UP. This is progress.

dealing with disappointment

Looking back on 2006, it was a very good year. I became a member of the Actor's union and I worked pretty steadily throughout the year. It wasn't always a full production, but I was working. I even produced my first show. 2007 has not been so kind. At this point it has been over a year since my last full, "rehearsal period costumes stage lights" production and I'm missing it. I have worked, but that works has been "snippets": quick and dirty sorts of things. They were fun and interesting and I'm not complaining about having work, but they weren't anything that I could really sink my teeth into as an actor.

It's July, and now I'm looking forward into the rest of 2007 and into the early part of 2008. And from where I stand, it doesn't look as though there will be a full stage production any time in my near future. (I thought I would be doing two movies this summer but those didn't pan out, either. However, that's a different topic for a different post.) So I am jobless. It's true, no one can predict the future and I never know what may happen, but most of the theatres that I can work for have already cast their shows for the season or the season does not include shows in which I could be cast. I had a few auditions this month, and I was holding out hope for one of them, but no dice. I am an out-of-work actor.

So what does an out-of-work Adia do when she realizes her predicament? Well, first she cries a little and mopes around dramatically. She bemoans her state and wails "I want to quit!" Then she hangs out with people who are doing what they love and have boundless energy and she gets recharged for a little while. Then she gets tired and resigned, and isn't quite sure what to do or where to go from here. Does she stay and tough it out, hoping things will turn around if she's persistent? Does she hightail it out of town and move to a market where no one knows her and she has to start all over, hustling to get in people's faces and on their cast lists? Or does she move and just take a break from acting entirely and hope that the break clarifies where it is that she needs to go next, back to acting or in an entirely new direction?

It's been said over and over and over again, ad nauseam, that this profession is brutal. It is. Most people drop out by the time they hit 30 because it's just too much. The emotional toll is high, and not just on the performer but on their friends and family, too: relationships and quality time get sacrificed to the theatre or the film or the television show. The financial toll is ridiculous: new headshots every few years (every year in L.A.), clothing for auditions, travel for auditions, mailers, postcards, business cards, the demo reel, classes. The rate of return on this investment would cause any MBA with a brain to run screaming in the other direction. And let's not forget the constant mind games the actor has to play in order to stay sane - "remember who you are", "keep yourself humble", "be patient", "don't ride the emotional roller coaster" - because the barrage of messages to the opposite effect is never-ending - "who do you think you are", "what makes you so special", "you really suck and it's just that no one's being honest with you", "why don't you just give up playing around and get a 'real' job".

I'm not sure what keeps us going in the face of these ridiculous obstacles. Maybe it's outright, pig-headed stubbornness. Like I said before, anyone sane would run screaming in the other direction. And yet we're still here. Some of us have made compromises and have taken that 9-5 job in order to keep our heads above water, but we're still trying to make the dream - the dream of making a living solely as an actor/theatre artist - come true. Why do we do this, other than that we're crazy?

There must be something to it, I suppose, the playing make-believe and getting you, the audience, to believe that we're someone we are not. There must be something to taking the symbols that form letters and words and sentences and paragraphs and turning them into a living, breathing, fallible, fascinating human being. There must be something to getting you to think about your life and your ideas in a different way. There must be something to creating in you, the audience, empathy for a person you wouldn't look twice at if you met them on the street. There must be something to taking you by the hand and leading you on an adventure, knowing that you're right there with us and not hanging back or smirking skeptically but that you're right there with us because we're doing our job right. There must be something to it, or we wouldn't keep doing it.

I finally did it.

I sucked it up and balanced my checkbook. I hadn't done it since early June. Naughty me.

Next up, sifting through the pile of paperwork that shifts around the various surfaces in my room like a tornado.