This will be short and sweet.
I had a rather intensive day in the box office, but it was good because I knew they needed me there. The work was relentless, but the results are rewarding. I'm helping to get 20,000+ people ready for the summer and following winter re-subscriptions. It's quite and undertaking and an honor to be of assistance. This is the lifeblood that allows all other activities at the theater to prosper.
Afterward, I got some casual time with some of the cast of the Brassy Broads (a fun all-female musical revue) and some of the tech interns that do many, many things behind the scenes. It makes me realize that it's not just about doing what you love, it's about the people with which you will do that certain something. Creativity does not just spawn itself alone, it needs an ecosystem with which to propagate inspiration. Having fellow beings with which you have comfort and provide you energy can result in creations far greater than your own mind could conceive. Inner strength will only take you so far. I cannot speak for other businesses, but the "Business" is built around community. Surround yourself with good people and trustworthy people and you will surely grow. Become choked by those certain weed-types that trick, that lie, that manipulate, and you will brown out, wither, and perhaps have your passion die out altogether. This is neither an easy evaluation to acknowledge nor is it a simple solution to discover the inner fortitude that accepts when a certain place might be poisonous to your well-being.
This is why we network. This is why we work in many different places. This is why we do research and ask questions. We should know as much as we can about where we are going before we get there; what we should know when we arrive. And, how we can use this experience to the benefit of, most importantly, ourselves and those around us.
Again, more big thoughts from someone who goes through them every day.
-Ben
P.S.-Word of mouth is the biggest way to spread good news around. I hope that if you find my blog helpful, that you'll pass that love along to those you know. It's already bringing big attention to my posts--so thanks to everyone who's been so helpful so far!
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Monday, March 21, 2011
Filing and Improvising
Welcome back to Monday. I promise I have some good stories to fill the time.
Box Office:
We're currently awaiting our last tour date this Friday. As I'm sure you'd believe, there's still plenty to do. I spent the day getting our filing for re-subscriptions in order, man the phones, and make small talk with my fellow coworkers. I'm almost done with The Empty Space, which means they'll be more thoughts on that soon. Of course, the day was not very exciting, but it was a change in ruetine and there's nothing better for an artist than to mix up the pace every once in a while--it keeps your sense sharp to live in its every detail. You could make an average day very interesting (and assure yourself you'll still have a job by tomorrow), but just changing very little things and seeing what they do for your experience of the everyday. It's likely it won't be very boring if you stay alert to the very minute differences.
But I digress.
The Box Office, thankfully, ran smoothly, and then I immediately rushed for some pizza (like I need an excuse for that) and then got myself ready for the open Improv night at the Cabaret theatre. You see, we have an awfully lot of adult improv classes going on--and the people that join up are loads of fun. The second to last class to a free night where they put the students under the shining lights to show off their skills (option "z" spelling included). They've been encouraging us to participate and of course we obliged.
Improv Night:
When people are thinking on their feet under observation of an audience, there's always something interesting that's going to happen. Such as the two people guessing what each of their partners were doing. It was set under the context of a debate over a controversial issue. One person each was demonstrating one point of view which another pair had to guess what they're arguing while their making the argument. They thought it was about drinking tequila. However, it was really about the difference between pulp and non-pulp orange juice. The guessing was both amazing and painfully funny to watch.
But that was just the first group. Which none of myself or my colleagues were in. Now it was our turn.
We get up there and of course my first-show jitters are showing just a little bit. I take some breathes and let the bad tension seep its way out just in time to get under way. We were really in the grove tonight. We created, as a group, the every evolving story about the 'gator trapped in our mini-Toyota and we managed to plow into the swamp water while battling off the reinforcements swimming and chomping at the bit to snap us off the roof of our nearly submerged compact. From there we had everything from ex-lovers trying to put down each other by determining whether the bounty of age or the allure of youth could really satisfy their man. Or, perhaps the wife who had filled her bed with toenails in order to spice up their love life while the husband was trying to find a more hygienic solution...although there wasn't enough time to save him from his pediatrist who was returning some underwear that got lost in their last "session" (what is it with comedy and sexual tensions!).
Then there was the dating game. In a rough abbreviation, there's a person who has to choose from three contestants who their lucky suitor will be. Of course, this person has left the room so the audience can make suggestions about the wild characters we will be during this game. And, the real challenge for the interviewer to determine who their winner is and figure out each person's character. Oh yeah, and we can't directly reveal who we are when the interviewer returns.
The desperate dater returns. Us characters settle in.and away we go.
One was Abraham Lincoln (picked from suggestions for a historical figure).
One had the unfortunate problem of snoring very loudly (a bad habit).
And one was a kitten (picked for a ferocious creature...this was me).
The first two were spotted quickly. Then I remained. With cute kitten eyes i was going to be the lucky date of our contestant! I awaited the dater to discover who I really was. There was a pause. I was in full cute kitty mode. Big wet eyes, soft fur, the works (at least from what my imagination could conjure). I had given what I thought were some dead give-aways--favorite color? gray, because it's the color of the mice I chase. Pretty explanatory if you ask me. Our improv partner decided I was...
An elephant. Then a whale. Then a mouse.
Ah well, can't get em all. We were all a bit confused, but it was pretty amusing nonetheless. Fortunately, everyone else in the room had a pretty good idea who I was and the dater finally discovered my true identity. By the end we were all giving high-fives. I got people to laugh about quantum physics. Only in improv...
So we're now back at the house and making more small talk. I've taken my shower. All is well. A quiet day and a quirky night. And that's way I liked it.
-Ben
Box Office:
We're currently awaiting our last tour date this Friday. As I'm sure you'd believe, there's still plenty to do. I spent the day getting our filing for re-subscriptions in order, man the phones, and make small talk with my fellow coworkers. I'm almost done with The Empty Space, which means they'll be more thoughts on that soon. Of course, the day was not very exciting, but it was a change in ruetine and there's nothing better for an artist than to mix up the pace every once in a while--it keeps your sense sharp to live in its every detail. You could make an average day very interesting (and assure yourself you'll still have a job by tomorrow), but just changing very little things and seeing what they do for your experience of the everyday. It's likely it won't be very boring if you stay alert to the very minute differences.
But I digress.
The Box Office, thankfully, ran smoothly, and then I immediately rushed for some pizza (like I need an excuse for that) and then got myself ready for the open Improv night at the Cabaret theatre. You see, we have an awfully lot of adult improv classes going on--and the people that join up are loads of fun. The second to last class to a free night where they put the students under the shining lights to show off their skills (option "z" spelling included). They've been encouraging us to participate and of course we obliged.
Improv Night:
When people are thinking on their feet under observation of an audience, there's always something interesting that's going to happen. Such as the two people guessing what each of their partners were doing. It was set under the context of a debate over a controversial issue. One person each was demonstrating one point of view which another pair had to guess what they're arguing while their making the argument. They thought it was about drinking tequila. However, it was really about the difference between pulp and non-pulp orange juice. The guessing was both amazing and painfully funny to watch.
But that was just the first group. Which none of myself or my colleagues were in. Now it was our turn.
We get up there and of course my first-show jitters are showing just a little bit. I take some breathes and let the bad tension seep its way out just in time to get under way. We were really in the grove tonight. We created, as a group, the every evolving story about the 'gator trapped in our mini-Toyota and we managed to plow into the swamp water while battling off the reinforcements swimming and chomping at the bit to snap us off the roof of our nearly submerged compact. From there we had everything from ex-lovers trying to put down each other by determining whether the bounty of age or the allure of youth could really satisfy their man. Or, perhaps the wife who had filled her bed with toenails in order to spice up their love life while the husband was trying to find a more hygienic solution...although there wasn't enough time to save him from his pediatrist who was returning some underwear that got lost in their last "session" (what is it with comedy and sexual tensions!).
Then there was the dating game. In a rough abbreviation, there's a person who has to choose from three contestants who their lucky suitor will be. Of course, this person has left the room so the audience can make suggestions about the wild characters we will be during this game. And, the real challenge for the interviewer to determine who their winner is and figure out each person's character. Oh yeah, and we can't directly reveal who we are when the interviewer returns.
The desperate dater returns. Us characters settle in.and away we go.
One was Abraham Lincoln (picked from suggestions for a historical figure).
One had the unfortunate problem of snoring very loudly (a bad habit).
And one was a kitten (picked for a ferocious creature...this was me).
The first two were spotted quickly. Then I remained. With cute kitten eyes i was going to be the lucky date of our contestant! I awaited the dater to discover who I really was. There was a pause. I was in full cute kitty mode. Big wet eyes, soft fur, the works (at least from what my imagination could conjure). I had given what I thought were some dead give-aways--favorite color? gray, because it's the color of the mice I chase. Pretty explanatory if you ask me. Our improv partner decided I was...
An elephant. Then a whale. Then a mouse.
Ah well, can't get em all. We were all a bit confused, but it was pretty amusing nonetheless. Fortunately, everyone else in the room had a pretty good idea who I was and the dater finally discovered my true identity. By the end we were all giving high-fives. I got people to laugh about quantum physics. Only in improv...
So we're now back at the house and making more small talk. I've taken my shower. All is well. A quiet day and a quirky night. And that's way I liked it.
-Ben
Sunday, March 20, 2011
The Judgment Factor
So, I get a facebook group invite to vote for an auditioner (friend of a friend, you could say) seeking to be cast in the new Off-Broadway production of Rent coming this summer (is it scary this is the first time I've heard about it?). I've just started dabbling in video auditions myself; it's always interesting when there's a chance to see what we on stage/in the auditioning room look like from the audiences/casting directors' points of view.
I got curious. I started looking at other video auditions, subconsciously making observations in my head, as the determined actor that I am, and seeing what I liked or didn't like--perhaps the lighting was really weird or the audio quality wasn't great or perhaps I loved their voice, but didn't see any character emerge (or the complete opposite). Maybe they had a look or exuded a charisma that was spellbinding...or oozed something that produced a very different reaction.
Much like this wonderful site I've been getting into recently, I began to click associated links through youtube and "stumbled upon" a collection of videos talking about how the cast of Glee landed their current gigs. I've talked a lot recently about the relationship of art to our own lives and how to share that art. A big part of that, and many of my colleagues might agree, is being comfortable in where and who you are. One thing that stood out to me was how incredibly vunerable they all felt and how raw their auditions were--clearly they had the ability, but they were their 100% pure personality. It takes courage to allow the fullness of your humanity to be exposed. So it is that we cannot afford to take for granted ourselves so much that our technique or anything else outshines that essence which is always and uniquely our own.
However, I find the old, but rather vague, adage of "being yourself" very discouraging. In context, it usually means to act or behave as someone other than ourselves. Granted, there are times when this suggestion is useful--albeit necessary--when living with other people. But, there's nothing very self-appreciating or self-assuring in the phrase. It's not very helpful, so let's modify it.
In acting, producing a state of "being" almost always creates something equivocal and lacking in electricity...the gravitational pull that attracts people like flies to halogen bulbs. Specifics are essential. How and when do we know that we are being ourselves? Are we ourselves alone, or with other people? Both? Maybe in a certain place? In a certain job or study? When pressed to trace my judgments, the source lies in what people do (including what they say). Action seems to be the glue that binds all these questions together. When we do something, then we have a way of making an objective observation--of determining who our character is. But maybe doubt now slinks in: how to do we know the action is right? There's millions of choices. How do we know we picked the right one? My mind keeps wandering back to one phrase.
"Trust yourself": like you might have to do if you were at the door of a plane about to go skydiving. People I admire have this air of confidence, this alluring comfort in their presence, which almost always comes from a strong sense of faith in their choices independent of outside critique. They may appear strange, but they are so completely at ease within their own oddities that it quickly becomes accepted. Herein is where one of my biggest struggles remains: leaving myself alone to find the genuine character I'm playing.
Creativity is an unpredictable and somewhat mystic beast. When you're really doing something, your voice might wander somewhere and your body might move in a way which you didn't ask it. Or perhaps you're working from the outside-in instead; perhaps doing from an impulse of the mind that you willfully manifest. You might put your body into a funny position and justify an instant later. Whether through chaos or some inner reasoning, the best I've seen don't take time in performance to wonder if it worked. They worry about that later.
But what I saw in these videos about the Glee cast was an unabashed comfort in what they did--it may not have been the best choice at the time, but they went with it and somewhere in the struggle to reveal the song, they revealed themselves. I keep wondering how great it would be to allow personal inconsistencies to shine like Shakespeare in all their complexities--they'll certainly be more interesting to watch. If I'm critiquing myself in a performance, then I'm going to "be" the actor trying to play a part instead of the character trying to live within the story. This just highlights many other examples I've found.
I want to focus more of my work on embracing where I am, how to simply listen to what is going on around me, and how, when left alone, I can create a far more fascinating set of characters, than if I sweat it out, hoping to make a pleasurable show onstage. Again, this is just my own perspective. You can find some wise words about working from the actor's perspective and the rest of the business from the links on blog, posted here.
I got curious. I started looking at other video auditions, subconsciously making observations in my head, as the determined actor that I am, and seeing what I liked or didn't like--perhaps the lighting was really weird or the audio quality wasn't great or perhaps I loved their voice, but didn't see any character emerge (or the complete opposite). Maybe they had a look or exuded a charisma that was spellbinding...or oozed something that produced a very different reaction.
Much like this wonderful site I've been getting into recently, I began to click associated links through youtube and "stumbled upon" a collection of videos talking about how the cast of Glee landed their current gigs. I've talked a lot recently about the relationship of art to our own lives and how to share that art. A big part of that, and many of my colleagues might agree, is being comfortable in where and who you are. One thing that stood out to me was how incredibly vunerable they all felt and how raw their auditions were--clearly they had the ability, but they were their 100% pure personality. It takes courage to allow the fullness of your humanity to be exposed. So it is that we cannot afford to take for granted ourselves so much that our technique or anything else outshines that essence which is always and uniquely our own.
However, I find the old, but rather vague, adage of "being yourself" very discouraging. In context, it usually means to act or behave as someone other than ourselves. Granted, there are times when this suggestion is useful--albeit necessary--when living with other people. But, there's nothing very self-appreciating or self-assuring in the phrase. It's not very helpful, so let's modify it.
In acting, producing a state of "being" almost always creates something equivocal and lacking in electricity...the gravitational pull that attracts people like flies to halogen bulbs. Specifics are essential. How and when do we know that we are being ourselves? Are we ourselves alone, or with other people? Both? Maybe in a certain place? In a certain job or study? When pressed to trace my judgments, the source lies in what people do (including what they say). Action seems to be the glue that binds all these questions together. When we do something, then we have a way of making an objective observation--of determining who our character is. But maybe doubt now slinks in: how to do we know the action is right? There's millions of choices. How do we know we picked the right one? My mind keeps wandering back to one phrase.
"Trust yourself": like you might have to do if you were at the door of a plane about to go skydiving. People I admire have this air of confidence, this alluring comfort in their presence, which almost always comes from a strong sense of faith in their choices independent of outside critique. They may appear strange, but they are so completely at ease within their own oddities that it quickly becomes accepted. Herein is where one of my biggest struggles remains: leaving myself alone to find the genuine character I'm playing.
Creativity is an unpredictable and somewhat mystic beast. When you're really doing something, your voice might wander somewhere and your body might move in a way which you didn't ask it. Or perhaps you're working from the outside-in instead; perhaps doing from an impulse of the mind that you willfully manifest. You might put your body into a funny position and justify an instant later. Whether through chaos or some inner reasoning, the best I've seen don't take time in performance to wonder if it worked. They worry about that later.
But what I saw in these videos about the Glee cast was an unabashed comfort in what they did--it may not have been the best choice at the time, but they went with it and somewhere in the struggle to reveal the song, they revealed themselves. I keep wondering how great it would be to allow personal inconsistencies to shine like Shakespeare in all their complexities--they'll certainly be more interesting to watch. If I'm critiquing myself in a performance, then I'm going to "be" the actor trying to play a part instead of the character trying to live within the story. This just highlights many other examples I've found.
I want to focus more of my work on embracing where I am, how to simply listen to what is going on around me, and how, when left alone, I can create a far more fascinating set of characters, than if I sweat it out, hoping to make a pleasurable show onstage. Again, this is just my own perspective. You can find some wise words about working from the actor's perspective and the rest of the business from the links on blog, posted here.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Artsy Funsy
Yet another day in the books. Can you believe that this mini-tour has only two more performance days left?!
Today we went back to one of my personal favorites, a magnate school for the arts. The kids there are great. If you remember from a few weeks ago, I mentioned a place where they had a nice stage, with all the accouterments...and a fully equipped T.V studio right next to it. It's pretty neat. They really get it when it comes to being involved with a live performance event.
We had very enthusiastic audiences, lots of laughs, lots of silence in the serious moments, and plenty of applause and questions afterward. We even got a free meal out of the deal (the shamrock-shaped pretzels were a really cool and tasty touch). During our Q and A, they were really impressed with one of our tricks: we make it appear that a brand new pencil gets sharpened.
For context, here's the summary of the play we do it in:
The Pencil Who's Afraid to be Sharpened. This play was actually written by an entire class. Pencil #1 one is brand new. She hops over to the stud of the group, pencil #2, and pencil #3, or "Stubby", the height-challenged vet of the pencil box, waiting in a line to get pointy by the sharpener. Pencil #1, innocently asking about this strange machine, gets the "newbie" treatment as #2 and #3 decide to playmind games with her--they tell #1 all sorts of scary things about the sharpener. However, when it comes time for #1 to get a little shaved off the top, she finds out that her courage to go through with it made her one very good looking, pain-free, pointy pencil.
So now back to the trick:
We have an arrangement to make #1's sharpened head (all the players playing pencils wear corresponding pencil hats) appear when she removes herself from the sharpener. When done right, the trick should make it look like the sharp head magically replaced the flat one. The way we do it is have the pointy hat underneath the flat one and then the sharpener (in this case me) will pull the over-hat and turn such that the audience never sees me leave with the over-hat backstage. This one can be very satisfying when a collective "WHOAAAAAAAA" catches up to me as I deposit the flat top. Ah, the little things in life...
The rest of the day was spent reading kid plays in the 3rd, 4th, and high school grades. Most are exactly crowd-pleasers, although some have an awful lot of potential...if there was time to develop them with the playwrights. Unfortunately, there's really only enough to time to pick, choose, fix some grammar/spelling, and get into the rehearsal room. Hopefully these kids will have had enough reactions to their work from schoolmates and those beyond the classroom to encourage them to keep working at their craft.
I think we often take for granted how innate the need for and ability to tell stories really is in our DNA. No, I don't think there's an allele in there somewhere or some special combination of organic acids that dictates it a specific story-telling gene...but it's a proven observation that every human culture on the planet uses storytelling in one form or another. In everyday life we see people we label as "performers", but we really could take Shakespeare's famous lines about "all the world" to see the way we in real life really are. No doubt for many of you, this isn't the most shocking revelation. But there are people out there that study all of humanity through the theories of narrative (oh yes... there are scientific studies in the field of communication exclusively utilizing this principle). For the everyday person, it's a way to make your movie-watching and theater-going experience more meaningful--where do you see your life in these stories? Where do you see life in the stories that the people around you tell; look to even the most mundane and you'll find a whole world behind that benign tale. For the artist--not just the actor--it's one more way to remind ourselves that if we are to be a mirror of life for the human world to peer into and rediscover itself (as I've heard mentioned in many places and books), we must be willing to reflect in the observations of our experiences both in and beyond the theater; it's performance and rehearsal spaces. We ourselves are constantly writing new chapters with every minute we're alive. Any moment within could be the inspiration--that moment when we see the mirror bounce something back and suddenly we understand; now, we have confidently gained a genuine interest to share a new, very personal, view with others.
And with that I say, goodnight.
-Ben
P.S.-Speaking of peaking into the mirror, I am always happy to hear your thoughts, please feel free to share!
Today we went back to one of my personal favorites, a magnate school for the arts. The kids there are great. If you remember from a few weeks ago, I mentioned a place where they had a nice stage, with all the accouterments...and a fully equipped T.V studio right next to it. It's pretty neat. They really get it when it comes to being involved with a live performance event.
We had very enthusiastic audiences, lots of laughs, lots of silence in the serious moments, and plenty of applause and questions afterward. We even got a free meal out of the deal (the shamrock-shaped pretzels were a really cool and tasty touch). During our Q and A, they were really impressed with one of our tricks: we make it appear that a brand new pencil gets sharpened.
For context, here's the summary of the play we do it in:
The Pencil Who's Afraid to be Sharpened. This play was actually written by an entire class. Pencil #1 one is brand new. She hops over to the stud of the group, pencil #2, and pencil #3, or "Stubby", the height-challenged vet of the pencil box, waiting in a line to get pointy by the sharpener. Pencil #1, innocently asking about this strange machine, gets the "newbie" treatment as #2 and #3 decide to playmind games with her--they tell #1 all sorts of scary things about the sharpener. However, when it comes time for #1 to get a little shaved off the top, she finds out that her courage to go through with it made her one very good looking, pain-free, pointy pencil.
So now back to the trick:
We have an arrangement to make #1's sharpened head (all the players playing pencils wear corresponding pencil hats) appear when she removes herself from the sharpener. When done right, the trick should make it look like the sharp head magically replaced the flat one. The way we do it is have the pointy hat underneath the flat one and then the sharpener (in this case me) will pull the over-hat and turn such that the audience never sees me leave with the over-hat backstage. This one can be very satisfying when a collective "WHOAAAAAAAA" catches up to me as I deposit the flat top. Ah, the little things in life...
The rest of the day was spent reading kid plays in the 3rd, 4th, and high school grades. Most are exactly crowd-pleasers, although some have an awful lot of potential...if there was time to develop them with the playwrights. Unfortunately, there's really only enough to time to pick, choose, fix some grammar/spelling, and get into the rehearsal room. Hopefully these kids will have had enough reactions to their work from schoolmates and those beyond the classroom to encourage them to keep working at their craft.
I think we often take for granted how innate the need for and ability to tell stories really is in our DNA. No, I don't think there's an allele in there somewhere or some special combination of organic acids that dictates it a specific story-telling gene...but it's a proven observation that every human culture on the planet uses storytelling in one form or another. In everyday life we see people we label as "performers", but we really could take Shakespeare's famous lines about "all the world" to see the way we in real life really are. No doubt for many of you, this isn't the most shocking revelation. But there are people out there that study all of humanity through the theories of narrative (oh yes... there are scientific studies in the field of communication exclusively utilizing this principle). For the everyday person, it's a way to make your movie-watching and theater-going experience more meaningful--where do you see your life in these stories? Where do you see life in the stories that the people around you tell; look to even the most mundane and you'll find a whole world behind that benign tale. For the artist--not just the actor--it's one more way to remind ourselves that if we are to be a mirror of life for the human world to peer into and rediscover itself (as I've heard mentioned in many places and books), we must be willing to reflect in the observations of our experiences both in and beyond the theater; it's performance and rehearsal spaces. We ourselves are constantly writing new chapters with every minute we're alive. Any moment within could be the inspiration--that moment when we see the mirror bounce something back and suddenly we understand; now, we have confidently gained a genuine interest to share a new, very personal, view with others.
And with that I say, goodnight.
-Ben
P.S.-Speaking of peaking into the mirror, I am always happy to hear your thoughts, please feel free to share!
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
The First Days of Under 6 Tour and the Too Short Shirt
Woo! My how the days get ahead of me. As the title suggests, we have made our entrance into the schools again; no to my surprise, the kids didn't miss anything. "Hey, I remember you!", "Were you in Pinocchio" (why do they always think I was that guy from the show I never did here?) , "Did you finally find a shirt that fits"....uh, yes I did...more on that in a moment.
This set is a little less encompassing--which is nice because we can save more of our focus and stressing upon the show and crowd itself. This was a straightforward event--nine plays, back to back, with an intro and conclusion. I'd love to give summaries of all of them, but that's a lot to follow in a post. So, let's give you two more:
The Silly King Named Kenny:
One day, the King greeting his servants when he receives a very important package from the postman. In the sworn oath of secrecy of the postman, when the court has adjourned, it is reveiled that his most precious object is a...Barbie Doll (dun dun dun!)! Of course, the King can't be made to look silly in front of his kingdom, but the postman is a lousy confidant and blurts it out to two of the servants. They all make it just in time to find the King, and his plastic waltzing partner--we're talking flips, tosses, spins; the work. The King manages to justify his position by being the tester of toys while his subjects laugh off his "very important work".
The Fortune Telling Peach:
In the middle of Orangetown...there is a peach who tells people's fortunes. However, they must have a good heart to know them. A little girl comes and learns she will have a big family. A theif comes and learns...that he will not get his fortune. And, a very worried mother comes to find out if her son shall survive "the war", but with many memories of its horrors. It's a peach that gives the people hope.
Again, they're all really good plays. I mean, even this guy (who has frequently attended and supported the Under 6 Play Festival) thought these young playwrights were making work more honest than that being done on Broadway!
Today was a typical day with three shows. We have a Q and A after each show. Here's some of the highlights:
We've been asked how we remove this hat from another story called The Pencil That's Afraid to be Sharpened (should be ample explanation for now); or how we make the bus spin around in a tornado; or how the policeman on the bike--er--"car" escorts the two kids to school. And we demonstrate. Sometimes they make statements. They might like a character. Or thought the who presentation was really good. Or this pre-k child in the front of the audience that really saw something in the play and told us about how his dad's gone away and isn't coming back, but that he's ok because his mom is taking care of him now...because of one of our plays (I've already mentioned this one before: New Moon).Remember, all these plays were written by kids just like this guy. We were all very moved by his revelation. I would be lying if I said I didn't almost cry.
And then there was the question about my "too short" shirt. Well. When we were doing the Playmakers Tour (you remember that thing, right?), we had these costumes for months. And they get washed. A lot. Ware and tare are bound to happen when clothes get beat up on stage and then in a washer and dryer five days a week for 3-4 months. But these aren't exactly the kind of clothes you'll find in your upscale mall. So you know how cotton likes to shrink?
Yep.
One day, I come to find my shirt, which fitted me perfectly at the onset (which in my experience has always been a bit of foreboding), had miniaturized itself a half to full size down from it's original specs. When we made it for the show I'm in this shrunken undershirt and my still normal purple plaid over-shirt, which meant that if you were to meet me when I walked in, I wouldn't have looked any different. Heck, even if I was doing warm-ups you wouldn't notice anything. But, there was this one point in the show where I would be doing something in the improvised portion; or more importantly being the fully committed actor that I am supposed to be, and in the excitement of the moment, there would be a brief second where I would, for some justifiable reason beyond what my memory can recall at this very moment, require my body to be very big and stretched out. The largess of the movement made my belly briefly, and partially, exposed--much to the surprise of everyone--including myself.
In any other case, it wouldn't have been a big deal, but it's kids we're talking about here. And of course they laughed. It was rare, and certainly I did my best to avoid it, but in a show that asks you to do near gymnastics, with a shirt that doesn't fit, it was a funny moment waiting to happen. And of course everyone made fun of me for it. Nothing's funnier to children then seeing their seeming infallible elders and older peers produce a gaff. It appears that it was enjoyed by all-including the quiet chuckles of the bashful teachers in the background.
Gladly, we wear buccaneer poofy shirts that don't leave any of that nonsense to chance. You know...serious, adult clothing. So dear children: I'm sorry for the too short shirt--never will you need see my belly button again. I promise.
-Ben
This set is a little less encompassing--which is nice because we can save more of our focus and stressing upon the show and crowd itself. This was a straightforward event--nine plays, back to back, with an intro and conclusion. I'd love to give summaries of all of them, but that's a lot to follow in a post. So, let's give you two more:
The Silly King Named Kenny:
One day, the King greeting his servants when he receives a very important package from the postman. In the sworn oath of secrecy of the postman, when the court has adjourned, it is reveiled that his most precious object is a...Barbie Doll (dun dun dun!)! Of course, the King can't be made to look silly in front of his kingdom, but the postman is a lousy confidant and blurts it out to two of the servants. They all make it just in time to find the King, and his plastic waltzing partner--we're talking flips, tosses, spins; the work. The King manages to justify his position by being the tester of toys while his subjects laugh off his "very important work".
The Fortune Telling Peach:
In the middle of Orangetown...there is a peach who tells people's fortunes. However, they must have a good heart to know them. A little girl comes and learns she will have a big family. A theif comes and learns...that he will not get his fortune. And, a very worried mother comes to find out if her son shall survive "the war", but with many memories of its horrors. It's a peach that gives the people hope.
Again, they're all really good plays. I mean, even this guy (who has frequently attended and supported the Under 6 Play Festival) thought these young playwrights were making work more honest than that being done on Broadway!
Today was a typical day with three shows. We have a Q and A after each show. Here's some of the highlights:
We've been asked how we remove this hat from another story called The Pencil That's Afraid to be Sharpened (should be ample explanation for now); or how we make the bus spin around in a tornado; or how the policeman on the bike--er--"car" escorts the two kids to school. And we demonstrate. Sometimes they make statements. They might like a character. Or thought the who presentation was really good. Or this pre-k child in the front of the audience that really saw something in the play and told us about how his dad's gone away and isn't coming back, but that he's ok because his mom is taking care of him now...because of one of our plays (I've already mentioned this one before: New Moon).Remember, all these plays were written by kids just like this guy. We were all very moved by his revelation. I would be lying if I said I didn't almost cry.
And then there was the question about my "too short" shirt. Well. When we were doing the Playmakers Tour (you remember that thing, right?), we had these costumes for months. And they get washed. A lot. Ware and tare are bound to happen when clothes get beat up on stage and then in a washer and dryer five days a week for 3-4 months. But these aren't exactly the kind of clothes you'll find in your upscale mall. So you know how cotton likes to shrink?
Yep.
One day, I come to find my shirt, which fitted me perfectly at the onset (which in my experience has always been a bit of foreboding), had miniaturized itself a half to full size down from it's original specs. When we made it for the show I'm in this shrunken undershirt and my still normal purple plaid over-shirt, which meant that if you were to meet me when I walked in, I wouldn't have looked any different. Heck, even if I was doing warm-ups you wouldn't notice anything. But, there was this one point in the show where I would be doing something in the improvised portion; or more importantly being the fully committed actor that I am supposed to be, and in the excitement of the moment, there would be a brief second where I would, for some justifiable reason beyond what my memory can recall at this very moment, require my body to be very big and stretched out. The largess of the movement made my belly briefly, and partially, exposed--much to the surprise of everyone--including myself.
In any other case, it wouldn't have been a big deal, but it's kids we're talking about here. And of course they laughed. It was rare, and certainly I did my best to avoid it, but in a show that asks you to do near gymnastics, with a shirt that doesn't fit, it was a funny moment waiting to happen. And of course everyone made fun of me for it. Nothing's funnier to children then seeing their seeming infallible elders and older peers produce a gaff. It appears that it was enjoyed by all-including the quiet chuckles of the bashful teachers in the background.
Gladly, we wear buccaneer poofy shirts that don't leave any of that nonsense to chance. You know...serious, adult clothing. So dear children: I'm sorry for the too short shirt--never will you need see my belly button again. I promise.
-Ben
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Tour Rehearsal Complete!
Today was our final day of rehearsal. There was a bit of anticipation as all the pieces were expected to fall into place, but with only a few bumps, we made a clean run, loaded up the van, and called it a week. Here are some other favorite plays we've worked upon: a pencil that is afraid to be sharpened; a cat that's too nice to cat mice; Mr. Bean who, despite his best efforts, just can't name the right Jelly Belly flavor for his very demanding little customer; a little red flower who was too scared to come up to the earth's surface. Those are among my personal favorites, but, as our tour implies, we have all-star pieces across the board for the tour (incidental rhyme!).
There was one play that, due to our limited time, was not able to get on board for the tour: the story of a brother and a sister staring up at a starry night. The brother tries to get his sister to join him in making out shapes in the sky. The sister, who has since grown up into her high school self, doesn't really see the point in even staring at the stupid sky until the brother makes the shape of an I-Pod. Her imagination starts to peek out. The brother reminisces about how much he misses his sister's vibrant imagination of her younger years and the stories she used to make. She finally taps into that powerful imagination and starts to tell a fairy tell as the brother closes his eyes and becomes serenaded by her tall tale. I can't really do it justice here, but another really cool piece. It's amazing how many good plays we had to choose from--and we're still searching or this year's play festival winners!
Earlier today, I stumbled across Aladdin on the TV...I couldn't resist. As of right now they're showing Matilda, I'm trying to keep my eyes away. The movie is good. The book is awesome. Read it if you haven't already. So it's been a day of celebrating fantasy. Tally-ho!
When I think about where movies, plays, and other forms of the imagination take us, I think about this movie one of my roommates recommended to me, The Purple Rose of Cairo, which is believed to be Woody Allen's affectionate tribute to the movies. However, I think there's something to be extrapolated from it's story--is that we all need that place to let our minds expand beyond the walls of reason so we can deal with everything else. If you get the chance it's worth the watch.
P.S.-I know some people thought that the play I mentioned yesterday was a play currently under consideration; it is in fact a part of our up-coming tour. The tour itself is a "best of" previous play festival winners. Since we're still considering this year's lineup, I'm not really at liberty to say what my favorite's have been thus far, although my colleagues and I have hit upon some real potential winners already.
-Ben
There was one play that, due to our limited time, was not able to get on board for the tour: the story of a brother and a sister staring up at a starry night. The brother tries to get his sister to join him in making out shapes in the sky. The sister, who has since grown up into her high school self, doesn't really see the point in even staring at the stupid sky until the brother makes the shape of an I-Pod. Her imagination starts to peek out. The brother reminisces about how much he misses his sister's vibrant imagination of her younger years and the stories she used to make. She finally taps into that powerful imagination and starts to tell a fairy tell as the brother closes his eyes and becomes serenaded by her tall tale. I can't really do it justice here, but another really cool piece. It's amazing how many good plays we had to choose from--and we're still searching or this year's play festival winners!
Earlier today, I stumbled across Aladdin on the TV...I couldn't resist. As of right now they're showing Matilda, I'm trying to keep my eyes away. The movie is good. The book is awesome. Read it if you haven't already. So it's been a day of celebrating fantasy. Tally-ho!
When I think about where movies, plays, and other forms of the imagination take us, I think about this movie one of my roommates recommended to me, The Purple Rose of Cairo, which is believed to be Woody Allen's affectionate tribute to the movies. However, I think there's something to be extrapolated from it's story--is that we all need that place to let our minds expand beyond the walls of reason so we can deal with everything else. If you get the chance it's worth the watch.
P.S.-I know some people thought that the play I mentioned yesterday was a play currently under consideration; it is in fact a part of our up-coming tour. The tour itself is a "best of" previous play festival winners. Since we're still considering this year's lineup, I'm not really at liberty to say what my favorite's have been thus far, although my colleagues and I have hit upon some real potential winners already.
-Ben
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
The Really Short of It
Hi everyone,
You'd think I'd be moving at a snail's pace because I'm not touring any more. Oh, how far from the truth!
-The weekend was filled mostly with memorization. We're now officially set to perform 9 plays for our mini-tour, starting (unofficially) this coming Monday. My head's been spinning with pages worth of lines, extra notes, and blocking. The choreography includes music, costumes, transitions between each play, and opening and closing "acts" to make the show itself a complete performance. And we'll have done it in two weeks. I don't care who you are--that's quick turnaround. When I'm not doing that, I'm reading plays under consideration for the Under 6 play festival, doing more rehearsal, or turning into a puddle of goo in front of the comfy telly. Ok, so that was a bit a dramatic, but yes, been making some extra me time this week.
-Monday:
The Moveable Feast. It's their big yearly fundraiser (or fun-raiser is more like it). The open up practically all their facilities, and of course we're there to help make it all happen. There were hor'deours course being offered by servers walking around the main stage theater and facility (i.e. myself and colleagues), this followed a show by a musical all male-vocal group they brought in at another theater across the way. This made just enough time for all the very nice local restaurants to set up their food, for us to prepare both the mainstage theater area and the cabaret for their post-show return where we wined and dined them until they could eat and drink no more. In one room was a spanish-guitar playing soloist. In another was a hot-rollin' blues and jazz group. Actually make that two counting another area. There was a place for wine tasting, outside areas to walk and more conversing. It was quite the wondrous spectacle. And a lot of fun. There were some fun patrons to talk to and of course the various casts from our current main shows came up which was added enjoyment. Six hours later, we were cleaning up the last of the napkins, glasses, mugs, plates, desserts (the food, at least what I was fortunate to be offered, was amazing), we were done. The feast moved well!
-The rest of the week:
More rehearsals and box office. Renewals for subscriptions are coming into the box office, so I've been busy in the continuing efforts to get all the seating requests, payments, and other notes bundled up and into our system known as Tessitura, an extremely impressive piece of software that virtually the entire business side of the theater runs upon--and many like it.
-Favorite Play of the Week:
We've been working on a play where a girl desperately misses her dad, who's gone away on "business". A boy, her playground mate, offers to write her a letter for her dad. The father receives it, and finds a solution: they both have matching telescopes; when the moon is full, they will both look at it at the same time and be "gorgeous and happy". One night, they find their chance, and remember how much they will remain in each other's hearts. I really don't think I can say much more than that for the moment, but it's a really beautiful piece. I'll have to go more into the show itself later.
That's about all my brain and catch up to at the moment. Will take the rest and type to you tomorrow.
-Ben
You'd think I'd be moving at a snail's pace because I'm not touring any more. Oh, how far from the truth!
-The weekend was filled mostly with memorization. We're now officially set to perform 9 plays for our mini-tour, starting (unofficially) this coming Monday. My head's been spinning with pages worth of lines, extra notes, and blocking. The choreography includes music, costumes, transitions between each play, and opening and closing "acts" to make the show itself a complete performance. And we'll have done it in two weeks. I don't care who you are--that's quick turnaround. When I'm not doing that, I'm reading plays under consideration for the Under 6 play festival, doing more rehearsal, or turning into a puddle of goo in front of the comfy telly. Ok, so that was a bit a dramatic, but yes, been making some extra me time this week.
-Monday:
The Moveable Feast. It's their big yearly fundraiser (or fun-raiser is more like it). The open up practically all their facilities, and of course we're there to help make it all happen. There were hor'deours course being offered by servers walking around the main stage theater and facility (i.e. myself and colleagues), this followed a show by a musical all male-vocal group they brought in at another theater across the way. This made just enough time for all the very nice local restaurants to set up their food, for us to prepare both the mainstage theater area and the cabaret for their post-show return where we wined and dined them until they could eat and drink no more. In one room was a spanish-guitar playing soloist. In another was a hot-rollin' blues and jazz group. Actually make that two counting another area. There was a place for wine tasting, outside areas to walk and more conversing. It was quite the wondrous spectacle. And a lot of fun. There were some fun patrons to talk to and of course the various casts from our current main shows came up which was added enjoyment. Six hours later, we were cleaning up the last of the napkins, glasses, mugs, plates, desserts (the food, at least what I was fortunate to be offered, was amazing), we were done. The feast moved well!
-The rest of the week:
More rehearsals and box office. Renewals for subscriptions are coming into the box office, so I've been busy in the continuing efforts to get all the seating requests, payments, and other notes bundled up and into our system known as Tessitura, an extremely impressive piece of software that virtually the entire business side of the theater runs upon--and many like it.
-Favorite Play of the Week:
We've been working on a play where a girl desperately misses her dad, who's gone away on "business". A boy, her playground mate, offers to write her a letter for her dad. The father receives it, and finds a solution: they both have matching telescopes; when the moon is full, they will both look at it at the same time and be "gorgeous and happy". One night, they find their chance, and remember how much they will remain in each other's hearts. I really don't think I can say much more than that for the moment, but it's a really beautiful piece. I'll have to go more into the show itself later.
That's about all my brain and catch up to at the moment. Will take the rest and type to you tomorrow.
-Ben
Friday, March 4, 2011
The Arts and Purpose
Ironically, my time has been a bit more constrained as of late:
-This week: We've been rehearsing in the mornings for about 4-5 hours a day; followed by 4-5 hours of time in the box office each afternoon into the evening. Today, I spent a few hours reading some of the potential winners for Under 6 and assisted with the special needs students in one of the classes. We spend most of our time in there helping the participants in rehearsal and during the performance. All the scenes/skits are showing off parts of their own identity. One young lady will be doing a piece about her upcoming Golden Birthday (26 on the 26th! Which means I missed mine by...a long time ago; oh well.) Another is doing a group speaking and sign-language presentation dedicated to her Jewish faith and Israel. And there's the guys: one is trying to get to Tampa...via monster truck. The other is ready for the Cubs to break the 102nd year drought and win a World Series. It's fun. And they're fun people--a good way to end the weekdays.
-I've been busy also reading a book called the Empty Space, by Peter Brooks. It's split into four sections, each devoting time and explaining Deadly, Holy, Rough, and Immediate Theater. Right now, I'm just up through the The Deadly Theater chapter. It talks in detail about this particular type of theater, and the various people that contribute to it, that brings about boring, repetitive, meaningless work to the stage--often driving audiences away and making the experience of theater going rather dull. The author challenges the reader to conceptualize a theater with a specific purpose which aims at the overall improved welfare of society. This kind of act will, as he believes, inevitably lead to a theater essential to, and even fun for, the social collective. This, in turn, would make the participation in theater not just frivolity and entertainment, but an expanding and ever-evolving redefinition of the human condition (to those of you who have read the rest, let me know if I got that right; I hope to elaborate more once I make more progress--as I've alluded to, it's very dense material). Pretty big stuff I daresay.
But it's also nice to think that what we do as part of the performance industry goes beyond mere amusement. I talk a lot about how during the tour we encouraged children to embrace their own identities. Our hope is they use their perspectives to explore and express life as they see it in the present. And there's Race, by David Mamet, that points out that maybe we all have a little racism somewhere in the back of our heads (this was a good point that one of the cast members brought up with me today). The imaginary world is a really cool place for me because it gives us the flexibility to suspend our own expectations to better understand the possibilities of working with someone else's.
Especially with money as tight as it is, the arts are one of the first sectors to come under scrutiny. It's so hard to define our role because it fluctuates along with the times. Even something as trivial as fashion can change the whole meaning of a performance. A play today may not have significance three years from now. Or perhaps, in the case of the digital age, less than a year. That's why so many people, for example, hold Shakespeare in such high esteem, although a devil's advocate would argue that maybe tradition itself has over-emphasized the Bard's importance. English classes often teach us more about what IS good rather than letting students discover the definition of "good" for themselves.
What works, if left to the opinions of their readers, could stir the hearts of high-schoolers today? Maybe it's not the classics. Maybe it would be more than just Harry Potter. Or at least not the works they study in today's classrooms. What subjects should plays address? Are we so fractured in our beliefs and opinions that new works cannot connect beyond the cliche themes and messages? That seems cynical, but those are the challenges and questions I consider when thinking about my career in the bigger picture. If the performing arts are to stay relevant, I believe they cannot function solely off the public opinion nor can they afford to live economically without it. Lest we forget, your participation as the audience member, as this book wisely points out, is just as vitally important. An audience willing to be involved will make any good show great--it's almost essential. You're contribution to this debate could very well help, or hinder, the perpetuation of this art-form.
-Ben
-This week: We've been rehearsing in the mornings for about 4-5 hours a day; followed by 4-5 hours of time in the box office each afternoon into the evening. Today, I spent a few hours reading some of the potential winners for Under 6 and assisted with the special needs students in one of the classes. We spend most of our time in there helping the participants in rehearsal and during the performance. All the scenes/skits are showing off parts of their own identity. One young lady will be doing a piece about her upcoming Golden Birthday (26 on the 26th! Which means I missed mine by...a long time ago; oh well.) Another is doing a group speaking and sign-language presentation dedicated to her Jewish faith and Israel. And there's the guys: one is trying to get to Tampa...via monster truck. The other is ready for the Cubs to break the 102nd year drought and win a World Series. It's fun. And they're fun people--a good way to end the weekdays.
-I've been busy also reading a book called the Empty Space, by Peter Brooks. It's split into four sections, each devoting time and explaining Deadly, Holy, Rough, and Immediate Theater. Right now, I'm just up through the The Deadly Theater chapter. It talks in detail about this particular type of theater, and the various people that contribute to it, that brings about boring, repetitive, meaningless work to the stage--often driving audiences away and making the experience of theater going rather dull. The author challenges the reader to conceptualize a theater with a specific purpose which aims at the overall improved welfare of society. This kind of act will, as he believes, inevitably lead to a theater essential to, and even fun for, the social collective. This, in turn, would make the participation in theater not just frivolity and entertainment, but an expanding and ever-evolving redefinition of the human condition (to those of you who have read the rest, let me know if I got that right; I hope to elaborate more once I make more progress--as I've alluded to, it's very dense material). Pretty big stuff I daresay.
But it's also nice to think that what we do as part of the performance industry goes beyond mere amusement. I talk a lot about how during the tour we encouraged children to embrace their own identities. Our hope is they use their perspectives to explore and express life as they see it in the present. And there's Race, by David Mamet, that points out that maybe we all have a little racism somewhere in the back of our heads (this was a good point that one of the cast members brought up with me today). The imaginary world is a really cool place for me because it gives us the flexibility to suspend our own expectations to better understand the possibilities of working with someone else's.
Especially with money as tight as it is, the arts are one of the first sectors to come under scrutiny. It's so hard to define our role because it fluctuates along with the times. Even something as trivial as fashion can change the whole meaning of a performance. A play today may not have significance three years from now. Or perhaps, in the case of the digital age, less than a year. That's why so many people, for example, hold Shakespeare in such high esteem, although a devil's advocate would argue that maybe tradition itself has over-emphasized the Bard's importance. English classes often teach us more about what IS good rather than letting students discover the definition of "good" for themselves.
What works, if left to the opinions of their readers, could stir the hearts of high-schoolers today? Maybe it's not the classics. Maybe it would be more than just Harry Potter. Or at least not the works they study in today's classrooms. What subjects should plays address? Are we so fractured in our beliefs and opinions that new works cannot connect beyond the cliche themes and messages? That seems cynical, but those are the challenges and questions I consider when thinking about my career in the bigger picture. If the performing arts are to stay relevant, I believe they cannot function solely off the public opinion nor can they afford to live economically without it. Lest we forget, your participation as the audience member, as this book wisely points out, is just as vitally important. An audience willing to be involved will make any good show great--it's almost essential. You're contribution to this debate could very well help, or hinder, the perpetuation of this art-form.
-Ben
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
The Funny Muse
Ok, so rehearsals started for our "Best Of" Under Six Mini-Tour. Which is great, because they've certainly picked some very good pieces of work for us to dive into. I won't reveal them just yet, because I'm still taking my first bites into the scripts...we'll see what juice we find towards the middle.
Today ended up being rather stressful. I work in the Box Office as my secondary duties--which in and of itself can be plenty explanatory. I came home in a bit of a funk. Ate food. That felt good. Laid on the couch. Felt even better. Then, I made myself go over to see the FST Improv troope.
Oh man, are they funny.
I know a performance or work has really gotten to me when the emotion just wants to jump out of my throat before I can stop it. It's so nice to be the audience for a chance and have someone twang on your laughter chords until it hurts. I find laughing a necessary thing: keep the world in a tiny corner and let the kid free for awhile. It's hard to think of a time that laughing didn't help to soften and brighten. One of the best stress relievers I know. Honestly, just being around a good performance can often inspire my own acting. (A bad performance can also be just as liberating, but I can get into that later as well). It got me diving into my own acting homework right before I started writing to you. I was able to take one step back, and got five steps forward. Never ceases to amaze.
One thing that I've seen that's tricky for an actor is knowing when to let go of something. Anything. There's lines in the sand I've drawn for myself so I know what my limits are as an actor and as a person. But again, that line we draw when it's just ourselves gets oh so much more complicated when other people are involved. And, when something isn't working, it's often been the best for me to take a step back and turn off the brain--which has sometimes been a mammoth struggle as the young, frail, fledgling actor that I am, with the constant worries of adulthood survival, the fear of losing passion, losing faith in my process, and all the other things that come with risking for a big dream.
Tonight it came down to getting a good laugh. Someone else's artistic expression became the relief against the struggles within my own.
Just something to think about.
-Ben
Today ended up being rather stressful. I work in the Box Office as my secondary duties--which in and of itself can be plenty explanatory. I came home in a bit of a funk. Ate food. That felt good. Laid on the couch. Felt even better. Then, I made myself go over to see the FST Improv troope.
Oh man, are they funny.
I know a performance or work has really gotten to me when the emotion just wants to jump out of my throat before I can stop it. It's so nice to be the audience for a chance and have someone twang on your laughter chords until it hurts. I find laughing a necessary thing: keep the world in a tiny corner and let the kid free for awhile. It's hard to think of a time that laughing didn't help to soften and brighten. One of the best stress relievers I know. Honestly, just being around a good performance can often inspire my own acting. (A bad performance can also be just as liberating, but I can get into that later as well). It got me diving into my own acting homework right before I started writing to you. I was able to take one step back, and got five steps forward. Never ceases to amaze.
One thing that I've seen that's tricky for an actor is knowing when to let go of something. Anything. There's lines in the sand I've drawn for myself so I know what my limits are as an actor and as a person. But again, that line we draw when it's just ourselves gets oh so much more complicated when other people are involved. And, when something isn't working, it's often been the best for me to take a step back and turn off the brain--which has sometimes been a mammoth struggle as the young, frail, fledgling actor that I am, with the constant worries of adulthood survival, the fear of losing passion, losing faith in my process, and all the other things that come with risking for a big dream.
Tonight it came down to getting a good laugh. Someone else's artistic expression became the relief against the struggles within my own.
Just something to think about.
-Ben
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