Lemonade

I've been in my current apartment for a week and a half. It feels like years.

Life in New York moves fast. That's not an exaggeration. One day can feel like a week in any other city. I'm not sure why that is, but I believe it has something to do with the constant stimulation. Lights, noise, other people: one is always on alert, and that's exhausting. I've gotten used to it, but when I first got here I was always so very tired. I'm still tired, a month and a few days later, but I'm used to it now.

I've had to take a break from pursuing acting work because I've needed to adjust to the new pace. The funny thing is that while everything in New York moves quickly, the business of performing seems to move slower than any other business. It takes incredible patience and diligent, daily forward motion to get an acting career off the ground here. There are many, many little steps that need to be taken in order to even have the possibility of a meeting with an agent, let alone booking a commercial, or even a role in a feature film. For example, let me walk you through just one piece of the jigsaw puzzle that is building an acting career:

The over-arching goal is to secure representation, i.e. an agent. Agencies need to see me, so my first, and at the moment, only available option is to do a mass mailing.

1. Revise my resume so that it sells my "brand"
2. Paste re-vamped resumes to the back of headshots.
3. Subscribe to an internet service that will provide me with agency contact information.
4. Research agents to see what others say about them.
5. Either handwrite mailing labels or input those addresses into my computer and create typed labels; either option is labor-intensive.
6. Put labels on envelopes.
7. Get stamps for the envelopes, and we're not talking 20 envelopes, we're talking 200 or more.
8. Create cover letters for each and every agency that are creative, professional, show my personality, and are specific to that agency.
9. Print those letters.
10. Stuff the envelopes.
11. Take all 200 (or more) to the post office and mail them.
12. Put it all out of mind or risk going crazy thinking about it.

Chances are good that I won't directly get any contact from this mailing. I will need to keep submitting and submitting until I get called in for a meeting. The meeting won't guarantee my getting signed with that agent. But it will be cause for small celebration, because it means that someone saw something in my photos and letter that grabbed their attention. And that's a great step, albeit a small one.

If I want to make myself more attractive to agents, I need to get on stage. And that's a whole new set of tiny tasks.

1. Start seeing theatre.
2. Try to talk to the theatre-makers whose work I liked.
3. Build a relationship with the theatre-makers, even if it means stuffing envelopes for three hours.
4. Once I've built rapport, pitch the idea of getting on stage, even if it's a small part; or, pitch the idea of my doing something small on my own, i.e. a reading of my writing or even just a storytelling hour.
5. Continue to get myself put on stage in whatever capacity possible.
6. Invite agents to come see my work (by addressing post cards and sending them out - more small tasks).
7. Hope someone takes a liking to what I do and calls me in for a meeting.

That's a lot of work when one is already working full-time. You know, it can seem as though the people who are making big bucks in Hollywood just all of a sudden "made it". There is no such thing as instant success. Somewhere along the line, those people had to hustle, had to be in the right place at the right time and forging relationships with the right people, maintaining their physical appearance, and spending obscene amounts of money on a career that is not a sane person's gamble.

This business is crazy, but in all my reading this afternoon and evening, I've come to realize that I keep doing this because I have to. I could choose to do something else, but why?

Happy New Year.

I am (mostly) settled in my new place, and for the first time since I got here, I feel like I can exhale. I'd been living out of my suitcases for the past month, and never feeling like I could settle in. I think I can here. I get along really well with the lease-holder of the apartment: she's pretty cool. The apartment itself is huge, as is my room. I vacuumed today and had visions of the apartment, remodeled. I could see the floors torn up and then leveled - especially the linoleum in the kitchen. Sanding the molding around the doors and windows to get the gobs of paint off, slate tile in the bathroom and kitchen, and sanded, painted walls. It'd be a real showplace at the end. But because the building is rent stabilized, the owner's never going to put that much work into it.

So. It's a new year, and I'm not ready to give up on New York yet. I'm giving myself a year.


(I still feel - every day - so homesick it hurts, but that just means that I'll have to visit home often.