On my heart today: If you want your group to be taken seriously, with intellectual honesty and people discussing what you ACTUALLY said instead of some sound bite being taken out of context and used against you, then you MUST stand up for others when you see the same thing being done to them. I don't agree with Muslim theology, or LDS theology, or most Liberals, but it's not fair for me to take what they say and run with it so that it's not what they really mean. Going to the extreme with something isn't honest. I hope to stand up for honesty, even if I disagree with what is being said. It's so very hard in this day and age to find out what is actually happening in the world instead of what the reporters/pundits/Facebook Memes/blah blah blah want you to hear. Find the source before you hit SHARE. Read. Think. Pray. Maybe that article that says "POPE DECLARES THERE IS NO GOD!" might need some more research before you share it with your friends who might be more naive than you. Take a tip from Fox Mulder on the X-Files: The Truth Is Out There. Don't be lazy. Go find it.
Christians need to be the last honest people standing. We have to fight for it. It's not enough to sit back and look at cute drawings of Precious Moments with Bible verses printed on them. We live in a tough world that takes the truth and twists it, cuts it up, decorates it, dips it in glitter and then sells it to you for a hefty profit. Don't let it happen.
Be honest. Demand honesty from others. But be kind.
My life as a Catholic Warrior Princess.
Wednesday, December 9, 2015
Friday, November 20, 2015
Thinking vs. Feeling
I was looking at Jungian personality descriptors tonight, and contemplating the difference between T and F (Thinking and Feeling) I am most definitely a T. My mom asked the difference and I thought for a minute, and I gave this example: "Someone posts on FB that his kid fell and hit her head and is in the hospital with a concussion. All of the comments are things like 'Oh my! Oh no!! Poor little one!! Prayers going up! Oh goodness' etc. etc. MY first thought (and sometimes comment) is "What exactly happened? Why did this happen? Give me details of the situation!" And people probably think I'm a heartless jerk, but it's really just how my brain processes information for decision making. It's not that I'm not compassionate, it's that the things which caught my attention are the technical horrors of a child falling and hurting herself, not people's feelings or reactions to it. It's like I wanna clear away all the emotional fluff and get to the important things so something can be done." Maybe my psychology oriented friends can shed some light on this.
Thursday, November 19, 2015
Dreaming
There are certain times of year I associate with stillness, quietude, and dreaming...
November, January and February are those times.
Maybe it's because it's the darkest part of the year.
October is about action. My birthday is in October. It's always been a month of happiness and excitement for me.
December is candle-lit. It's Advent. It's the holy time...the Nativity. The wonder of the birth of the Christ child, and the virgin Theotokos cradling Him in her arms. It's angels singing. It's light.
January is dark. It's still. In January we walk a knife edge between delight and depression. Snow blankets much of the area. The light fades almost as quickly as it comes. It's a time of stillness, yet fire in our hearts. Everything slows. I love it, but I struggle with Seasonal Affective Disorder to a degree. I have to use a therapy light to stimulate my brain into happiness. But sometimes the beauty of the cold grey backdrop overtakes me and I fall into a dreamy sort of state...watching black and white movies that echo the images outside. Or reading real books by the fire. Or burning candle after candle while listening to Ambient music. I love it.
February is a tease...she is a month whose crowning day is a day of love, but it's often drowned out by people belly-aching about having no love. The same stillness, but it seems the wind begins to pick up and move forward toward the Spring time.
I am open to these times of dreams. Now we are in November, just before Advent. There is much to be done. There is a time for everything...for work and for rest.
Oh God, don't let me waste it.
November, January and February are those times.
Maybe it's because it's the darkest part of the year.
October is about action. My birthday is in October. It's always been a month of happiness and excitement for me.
December is candle-lit. It's Advent. It's the holy time...the Nativity. The wonder of the birth of the Christ child, and the virgin Theotokos cradling Him in her arms. It's angels singing. It's light.
January is dark. It's still. In January we walk a knife edge between delight and depression. Snow blankets much of the area. The light fades almost as quickly as it comes. It's a time of stillness, yet fire in our hearts. Everything slows. I love it, but I struggle with Seasonal Affective Disorder to a degree. I have to use a therapy light to stimulate my brain into happiness. But sometimes the beauty of the cold grey backdrop overtakes me and I fall into a dreamy sort of state...watching black and white movies that echo the images outside. Or reading real books by the fire. Or burning candle after candle while listening to Ambient music. I love it.
February is a tease...she is a month whose crowning day is a day of love, but it's often drowned out by people belly-aching about having no love. The same stillness, but it seems the wind begins to pick up and move forward toward the Spring time.
I am open to these times of dreams. Now we are in November, just before Advent. There is much to be done. There is a time for everything...for work and for rest.
Oh God, don't let me waste it.
Sunday, November 1, 2015
New Demo Reel
As I put this together I realize how much my acting as indeed grown over the past year. It might feel like I haven't done a ton of things or had all the opportunities that I wanted, but I really have done some nice things. I heard an important casting director say that they are relying more and more on demo reels to cast people...so I hopped to it and updated mine. Here it is.
May fruit be ever budding.
May fruit be ever budding.
Monday, October 12, 2015
Behind the scenes
Much of my professional life is determined without me, behind closed doors, with people I don't know and haven't met, talking openly about people and passing around pictures with resumes stapled to the back.
Things we are afraid to say in the polite world, such as "her nose is so large that it's unsettling", "her hips are too big for my taste", "I like this one because...I don't know. There's just something about her eyes" are freely thrown around, here. They trade in pictures like kids used to trade baseball cards. I'm sure they used to know but have long forgotten all the emotions pinned to those choices...fears, hopes, "this is my dream role", "I'm getting too old to play this part", people who just had a breakup, people who will move away if they don't get this role, etc.
But they don't know.
They know they like the curvature of someone's chin. Or that she's 10 lbs lighter than the next one. Or they really prefer brown hair today.
Who knows? All of this goes on in a back room somewhere. I'm not privy to it. No wonder actors suffer such neurosis, often battling insecurity with bravado. One director felt the need to write me a letter and tell me I suffered from "overt self-depreciation". Did he know my life was falling apart? That my parents had just split up, I was doing poorly in college, gained so much weight and under so much stressed that I stopped menstruating? Was this letter supposed to be helpful?
I hope he didn't realize this.
And I know one thing, I'm glad I'm not privy to whatever goes on in back room casting. I know who I am and I don't need to know director's opinions. Why? Because opinions don't matter? They most certainly do. Every time I've been cast it's been due to someone's opinion. But I don't need to wear their opinions like a poncho. Because for everyone who thinks you are God's gift to acting, there are 20 who really don't like your voice. Or your hair. Or your body. Or they have a girlfriend/niece/wife/mistress who fits the part more than you. Or doesn't. But you get my point.
Everything God plans is decided in a back room, it seems. I'm not privy to it. I can't bargain with him. I didn't ask to end up where I am. I'm sure a lot of my horrible decisions have added to it, but it seems like he orchestrates my life somehow. Don't ask me how. I don't know. But He does.
Can't we trust Him? I don't trust casting directors really...too subjective. But God? Doesn't he have the best planned for me?
I know I'm not a picture and resume to God. He has entirely too much invested. Maybe I just need to be quiet and let him work. Even if it's in a back room; I'll eventually find out.
And it'll be amazing.
Things we are afraid to say in the polite world, such as "her nose is so large that it's unsettling", "her hips are too big for my taste", "I like this one because...I don't know. There's just something about her eyes" are freely thrown around, here. They trade in pictures like kids used to trade baseball cards. I'm sure they used to know but have long forgotten all the emotions pinned to those choices...fears, hopes, "this is my dream role", "I'm getting too old to play this part", people who just had a breakup, people who will move away if they don't get this role, etc.
But they don't know.
They know they like the curvature of someone's chin. Or that she's 10 lbs lighter than the next one. Or they really prefer brown hair today.
Who knows? All of this goes on in a back room somewhere. I'm not privy to it. No wonder actors suffer such neurosis, often battling insecurity with bravado. One director felt the need to write me a letter and tell me I suffered from "overt self-depreciation". Did he know my life was falling apart? That my parents had just split up, I was doing poorly in college, gained so much weight and under so much stressed that I stopped menstruating? Was this letter supposed to be helpful?
I hope he didn't realize this.
And I know one thing, I'm glad I'm not privy to whatever goes on in back room casting. I know who I am and I don't need to know director's opinions. Why? Because opinions don't matter? They most certainly do. Every time I've been cast it's been due to someone's opinion. But I don't need to wear their opinions like a poncho. Because for everyone who thinks you are God's gift to acting, there are 20 who really don't like your voice. Or your hair. Or your body. Or they have a girlfriend/niece/wife/mistress who fits the part more than you. Or doesn't. But you get my point.
Everything God plans is decided in a back room, it seems. I'm not privy to it. I can't bargain with him. I didn't ask to end up where I am. I'm sure a lot of my horrible decisions have added to it, but it seems like he orchestrates my life somehow. Don't ask me how. I don't know. But He does.
Can't we trust Him? I don't trust casting directors really...too subjective. But God? Doesn't he have the best planned for me?
I know I'm not a picture and resume to God. He has entirely too much invested. Maybe I just need to be quiet and let him work. Even if it's in a back room; I'll eventually find out.
And it'll be amazing.
Monday, September 21, 2015
Suscipe (prayer for tonight)
Suscipe (St. Ignatius of Loyola)
Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty,
my memory, my understanding
and my entire will,
All I have and call my own.
You have given all to me.
To you, Lord, I return it.
Everything is yours; do with it what you will.
Give me only your love and your grace.
That is enough for me.
Thank you, Fr. Jacob.
Wednesday, September 2, 2015
Thoughts on being in a show
I guess I haven't posted about the show I'm in. It's Oklahoma! and I'm in the chorus.
I cried when I got the call.
Who wouldn't? I mean this has always been my dream, and I've been steadily plodding along for a solid year here in Utah and offered nothing at this point. Zero. Zilch. When your identity is built up in one thing and then that thing goes away, you really have to face your identity. Big time. Like looking at yourself naked in a mirror under really unforgiving lights.
So I looked around on stage on opening night in a moment where I wasn't dancing. I did it. I freaking did it. I grabbed myself by my own waistband and pulled myself up. I know that doesn't seem like a lot to most people. And even if it's only dancing in the chorus of Oklahoma!, it's something. It's better than crying after 50+ auditions. It's better than looking back at the list of leads I've played.
And the best thing is it's good for perspective.
I miss home so much. Seriously...so much. My gypsy heart is not settled. Who knows where I'll end up or what will happen. I'm so glad that Jesus and other loves are portable if we don't get too attached to places, or things, or people.
This isn't to sound arrogant, but I am glad I did this. I'm glad I proved to myself that I could do it. It shouldn't have been so hard, but for some reason it was. I didn't give up, and I succeeded. And I'll carry that with me the rest of my life.
I know now that I can do it.
I cried when I got the call.
Who wouldn't? I mean this has always been my dream, and I've been steadily plodding along for a solid year here in Utah and offered nothing at this point. Zero. Zilch. When your identity is built up in one thing and then that thing goes away, you really have to face your identity. Big time. Like looking at yourself naked in a mirror under really unforgiving lights.
So I looked around on stage on opening night in a moment where I wasn't dancing. I did it. I freaking did it. I grabbed myself by my own waistband and pulled myself up. I know that doesn't seem like a lot to most people. And even if it's only dancing in the chorus of Oklahoma!, it's something. It's better than crying after 50+ auditions. It's better than looking back at the list of leads I've played.
And the best thing is it's good for perspective.
I miss home so much. Seriously...so much. My gypsy heart is not settled. Who knows where I'll end up or what will happen. I'm so glad that Jesus and other loves are portable if we don't get too attached to places, or things, or people.
This isn't to sound arrogant, but I am glad I did this. I'm glad I proved to myself that I could do it. It shouldn't have been so hard, but for some reason it was. I didn't give up, and I succeeded. And I'll carry that with me the rest of my life.
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