Happy Tuesday, friends!
Today I made a really bold gesture: I didn’t label the block pieces as I cut them out. Instead, I relied on my memory of which piece is which! That’s a pretty risky move, don’t you think?
After 16 of these, I’ve also developed an order in which I sew the pieces together. Yes, in my type-A tendencies, I have a chart where each piece is numbered. And I know now which ones have to go together first before I can go to the next step. That didn’t take very long, did it? It’s only been 16 days and it’s already a… routine.
I like getting stuck in ruts, people. I don’t consider it one of my better attributes.
Date: March 5, 2013
Location: Apartment, Washington Heights, NYC
Person I would have sent it to: my step-niece, Liza.
Music I listened to while sewing: I’m making the attempt to get away from Sunday in the Park with George, so I chose Passion by Sondheim. I’ve only ever heard the original Broadway Cast recording (Donna Murphy! Marin Mazzie!) and tried in vain to sit through the DVD recording a few years ago (didn’t stay awake- sorry), so the material is still fresh with me. There’s a new production of it in New York, which is getting great word of mouth; maybe I should make it a priority?
Thoughts/Feelings behind the block: It’s only been six days since my 34th birthday. I am officially, realistically, completely an adult. There’s no denying it.
I need to make the attempt to be more of an independent adult. Yes, I pay my bills on time and get myself up when I need to and feed myself and clean my own apartment and can do my own taxes… but I need to be more independent of my parents. More specifically, I need not to place as much worth on their opinion of me and my work and my worth.
Today, as is our routine, over a phone call that I made needing some reassuring that I was okay and that more (better!) work would come, my father launched into the now memorized schpiel he has: why do I bother working in theater?
Why dedicate my life to something that has no security? Why work towards something that will most likely never compensate me adequately? Why have a production when an audience isn’t a guaranteed thing? Why put so much of yourself into this, when people might not like it?
They’re questions that are so personal to me, I don’t even know how to answer them. This is just what I do. It’s what I want to do.
It also makes me sad that I need to explain to my father how powerful theater can be. It makes me sad to realize that my father hasn’t experienced that catharsis that can happen when lightening strikes during a production.
I know my parents don’t like me living in New York. I know they don’t understand what I do (don’t you just shop?). I know they just want me to be happy and secure and, for them, this means not being poor and constantly looking for work.
Yes, I do wish theater were more consistent. I wish I had money in a savings account. I wish it were easier.
But doing this just feels right, you know? Haven’t you ever been driven towards something because you know that when it’s right, it’s really really right?
It may not seem like I’m changing the world, but I do believe my work can effect things.
All I can say: when it works, it’s like light. When it doesn’t, it can feel dark. I keep at it because I want to see that light as many times as I can.
And for that reason, I need to take my parents’ anxiety as their issue. I can’t let it change my path.
One day at a time.