It's not that I don't enjoy being a chorus girl. I do, really. In fact, in some shows there's really nothing I'd rather be.
It's just that I'm ready to try something new. Be more integral in the story of a show. To not just perform. To sing. To act. To communicate outside of a smiling ensemble. (To step out of my comfort zone. To be afraid. To be challenged.) I have a theatre degree; why not use it?
What is it that releases you from the duty of paying your dues? Working long hours for minimal/no pay? For schlepping scenery? That gets you out of the chorus? That entitles you to at least a shot?
Is it grad school? Is it more training in general? Is it a better body? Is it ballsiness? Is it getting out of Dallas? Is it hopeless? (If so, I think my chorus girl years..with some exceptions..may be limited.) I'm growing restless. Not turning into a diva. Just feel like I'm kinda stuck in a hamster wheel, you know?
As always, any applicable advice is appreciated. And thanks for continuing to muddy through this angsty, soul-searchy, career-growth-spurt with me.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Dallas Theater Center's Cabaret is on the New York Times website!
This cramazing article about Dallas Theater Center was on the New York Times website tonight and it just so happens that the attached photo contains my face (and body.) Im the blonde on the right.
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/08/28/us/28ttkelly.html&ct=ga&cad=CAcQARgAIAAoATAAOABArPjl8gRIAVAAWABiBWVuLVVT&cd=LgQSmVNNQ_E&usg=AFQjCNGRl5cLEIgFv-2wi3QBB4BzMcIejA
Kind of awesome!
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/08/28/us/28ttkelly.html&ct=ga&cad=CAcQARgAIAAoATAAOABArPjl8gRIAVAAWABiBWVuLVVT&cd=LgQSmVNNQ_E&usg=AFQjCNGRl5cLEIgFv-2wi3QBB4BzMcIejA
Kind of awesome!
Sunday, August 21, 2011
On Restlessness
"Restlessness is discontent and discontent is the first necessity of progress. Show me a thoroughly satisfied man and I will show you a failure." - Thomas Edison
I'm grateful Edison has a good track record because I am in dire need of advice from someone. Even a dead someone who wasn't directing advice towards me. Someone legit. Edison seems legit.
I'm hopeful that this period of angst and soul searching will find its solution and direction soon so that I may stop pestering you all with my feelings and be productive/successful already. Even my mother told me I've overburdened you with angst.
Me: "So people keep telling me they read my blog but nobody comments. Except for my sister who takes pity on me and the occasional other people."
Mom: "Well it's so burdensome having to log in to comment. And people just don't know what to say anymore. You just keep being so angsty."
Mom is accurate, but this isn't a helpful or revelatory piece of information. (Love you, mom.)
Oh hey, mom? Where did I come from? (Oh gracious. PLEASE spare me the birds and the bees conversation. I'm pretty sure we successfully avoided that conversation in my pre-adolescence (because I was a relatively self sufficient child and probably googled it. or was given a book. And if we did have that conversation I have succeeded in blocking it from my memory and would like to keep it that way. Please and thank you!) ANYWAY, that is not the topic of conversation. I mean "where did I come from" in a more (yes, angsty), broader, philosophical kind of way. Were you this angsty? How about driven? Was dad? Is my supernatural undirected quotient of drive FROM either of you? (Read: Who do I have to blame for this ambition condition?)
I keep having evenings of not wanting to go to sleep because I feel like I haven't produced anything substantial in the day. Or learned anything. Or done anything significant. I think I have the guts and the energy to hardcore pursue something but I need Dumbledore to drop down from the sky and say "HermiKatharGinnyMuggle, pursue it this way" and I will.
Where is Dumbledore when I need him? Furthermore, why am I not a wizard? Actually, I saw the last Harry Potter film again today and determined it really wouldn't be all that great to be a wizard seeing as they have to deal with Voldemort and death eaters and betrayal and such. Then again, we have to deal with Michelle Bachmann and Kim Kardashian so maybe muggles aren't so well off either.
At any rate, I have managed to dicuss wizardry more thoroughly than I have hashed out the beast of energy/drive/ambition combusting in my chest and therefore am no closer to directing/channeling it and therefore no closer to breakthrough/product.
Sorry for being angsty again, mom. Sorry to everyone else, too. By the way, you can comment anonymously and just sign it. Or not. If you're feeling all cowardly and such. Or lazy. Or don't care enough to comment (in which case I don't blame you.)
Hope you sane normal people are all sleeping tight and have a wonderful start to the week tomorrow (today.) Goodnight and good morning.
I'm grateful Edison has a good track record because I am in dire need of advice from someone. Even a dead someone who wasn't directing advice towards me. Someone legit. Edison seems legit.
I'm hopeful that this period of angst and soul searching will find its solution and direction soon so that I may stop pestering you all with my feelings and be productive/successful already. Even my mother told me I've overburdened you with angst.
Me: "So people keep telling me they read my blog but nobody comments. Except for my sister who takes pity on me and the occasional other people."
Mom: "Well it's so burdensome having to log in to comment. And people just don't know what to say anymore. You just keep being so angsty."
Mom is accurate, but this isn't a helpful or revelatory piece of information. (Love you, mom.)
Oh hey, mom? Where did I come from? (Oh gracious. PLEASE spare me the birds and the bees conversation. I'm pretty sure we successfully avoided that conversation in my pre-adolescence (because I was a relatively self sufficient child and probably googled it. or was given a book. And if we did have that conversation I have succeeded in blocking it from my memory and would like to keep it that way. Please and thank you!) ANYWAY, that is not the topic of conversation. I mean "where did I come from" in a more (yes, angsty), broader, philosophical kind of way. Were you this angsty? How about driven? Was dad? Is my supernatural undirected quotient of drive FROM either of you? (Read: Who do I have to blame for this ambition condition?)
I keep having evenings of not wanting to go to sleep because I feel like I haven't produced anything substantial in the day. Or learned anything. Or done anything significant. I think I have the guts and the energy to hardcore pursue something but I need Dumbledore to drop down from the sky and say "HermiKatharGinnyMuggle, pursue it this way" and I will.
Where is Dumbledore when I need him? Furthermore, why am I not a wizard? Actually, I saw the last Harry Potter film again today and determined it really wouldn't be all that great to be a wizard seeing as they have to deal with Voldemort and death eaters and betrayal and such. Then again, we have to deal with Michelle Bachmann and Kim Kardashian so maybe muggles aren't so well off either.
At any rate, I have managed to dicuss wizardry more thoroughly than I have hashed out the beast of energy/drive/ambition combusting in my chest and therefore am no closer to directing/channeling it and therefore no closer to breakthrough/product.
Sorry for being angsty again, mom. Sorry to everyone else, too. By the way, you can comment anonymously and just sign it. Or not. If you're feeling all cowardly and such. Or lazy. Or don't care enough to comment (in which case I don't blame you.)
Hope you sane normal people are all sleeping tight and have a wonderful start to the week tomorrow (today.) Goodnight and good morning.
Friday, August 19, 2011
On playing it safe
On my lack of accurate self evaluation
On whether or not I can do it
On Cabaret
On luck
On being less talented than teenagers
On maybe not being talented at all, just smart
On not being all that smart
On being a nerd
On how being a nerd only gets you so far
On being nice
On how being nice only gets you so far
On taking advantage
On what if
On what next
On self value
On food. On lack of food. On dance. On working out.
On getting lazy
On lacking a specific goal
On unemployment
On old dudes with girlfriends
On irresponsible girlfriends
On angering people
On burning bridges
On trust
On altruism
On being twenty two and how i don't want to be
On wearing makeup on a daily basis for the first time ever
On having attended an all girls school
On feeling stupid and incompetent
On feeling bored and alone
On feeling inspired and motivated, mostly due to competition
On how that's probably not right
On how it wouldn't be an issue if I had won in the first place
On success as revenge
On feeling unimportant and insignificant
On narcissism
On quarter life crises
On a current need for advice. From smart, successful people who genuinely care. Irresponsible, delusional, or hateful people need not apply. Nor strangers. Nor the estranged. Goodnight.
On whether or not I can do it
On Cabaret
On luck
On being less talented than teenagers
On maybe not being talented at all, just smart
On not being all that smart
On being a nerd
On how being a nerd only gets you so far
On being nice
On how being nice only gets you so far
On taking advantage
On what if
On what next
On self value
On food. On lack of food. On dance. On working out.
On getting lazy
On lacking a specific goal
On unemployment
On old dudes with girlfriends
On irresponsible girlfriends
On angering people
On burning bridges
On trust
On altruism
On being twenty two and how i don't want to be
On wearing makeup on a daily basis for the first time ever
On having attended an all girls school
On feeling stupid and incompetent
On feeling bored and alone
On feeling inspired and motivated, mostly due to competition
On how that's probably not right
On how it wouldn't be an issue if I had won in the first place
On success as revenge
On feeling unimportant and insignificant
On narcissism
On quarter life crises
On a current need for advice. From smart, successful people who genuinely care. Irresponsible, delusional, or hateful people need not apply. Nor strangers. Nor the estranged. Goodnight.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Growing Pains
I have become complacent, lazy, and mediocre.
I am boring myself.
I am tired of being a jack of all trades, master of none.
I think the unfortunate time has come to make a choice. I hate making choices. Choices frighten me.
***
My mother likes to say that the world has yet to see what I could do if I singularly channeled all my drive and energy and passion into something. She's probably right. I am a chronic half-asser. I do what it takes to get by. In doing so, I am constantly disappointed in myself, which isn't the best place to be.
I know I'm capable of crazy things. My problem (like every artist) is that I have an gargantuan fear of failure. It terrifies me to the point of paralysis. The scenario has happened repeatedly where I work myself to a position where I could really launch and be brave and work my butt off and either catastrophically fail or gloriously succeed; I have never allowed myself to leave the launch pad. Instead, I take the backseat, amble along, and get by.
I'm tired of being underwhelming. I'm tired of being consumed by my fears.
One of my safeguards from failure is that I over-occupy myself and over-commit myself. I engross myself in ten tasks or projects at once and placate my frustrations with a failure by success in another realm. I have to maintain balance. I fear what shape I would be in if I fully engrossed myself in a project and it flopped. This has happened on smaller scales, and my skin is still so thin that I have to hermit myself away from everything, grieve, and re-emerge afterwards pretending it's all kosher, when really I'm just building frustration and callouses on my heart.
The unfortunate truth of the matter is that I am adult. And as such, it is time to start behaving like one. I have known how to behave as an adult for a long, long time but have allowed myself to use my youth and age as an excuse. I am not permitted these allowances anymore.
The time has come for some self-evaluation, growth, and intense struggle.
What do I want to be when I grow up?
This is a question I cannot and should not avoid any longer. If I could be anything in the universe in the short(ish) term, what would I pursue? The ultimate short term dream would be to be in the ensemble of a Broadway show or national tour.
That just doesn't seem realistic.
I'm not trying to garner pity or "oh no, don't say that"s but I just want to stay honest. I'm a decent dancer, a decent singer, and a decent actor. But I feel a little bit like Harold Hill in this regard--I've just tricked everyone into thinking I'm good enough when really it's all a faux facade and I'm not especially great at any of the three.
This leads to the next quandary/conundrum: do I want this badly enough that I kick my butt into some serious, serious training and set myself up for repeated heartbreak and really give this a go? I mean get my body into crazy shape, take endless lessons, fail, fail, and fail some more and hope that I'm not wasting time?
This is usually the point where my brain says, "Wait! You are moderately successful at so many other things! Why don't you become a writer? Why don't you pursue some business endeavor? Why don't you become an entrepeneur? Why don't you find some stable job that you know you could maintain?" Here is where trouble enters. But these same cyclical issues would probably occur in these other fields as well. I also can't tolerate wasting time. What if I do say, "let's do this. 100% guns a-blazing" and three or five years later I haven't made it?
If I'm being really painfully honest with myself (which is never fun), none of the alternatives could ever satisfy me as wholly as performing. Creating on the other side of the table/teaching and writing serve as close, close seconds (and I am convinced that I could be satisfied enough doing them for a living) but performing is my one true love. It's unfortunate that it's so damn hard.
I haven't found the answer just yet, but I am not procrastinating the search any longer. At least the questions and honest perseptive is out there as well as I know how at the moment.
I apologize to my family for having two swear words in this article. This isn't the kind of language you enjoy and I hope you'll forgive me for being ineloquent. I apologize to my readers for being boring as of late, and for being self-deprecating (albeit more honest than I have been lately) in this post. Lastly, I apologize to myself. Step it up, Gentsch. I know you can.
I am boring myself.
I am tired of being a jack of all trades, master of none.
I think the unfortunate time has come to make a choice. I hate making choices. Choices frighten me.
***
My mother likes to say that the world has yet to see what I could do if I singularly channeled all my drive and energy and passion into something. She's probably right. I am a chronic half-asser. I do what it takes to get by. In doing so, I am constantly disappointed in myself, which isn't the best place to be.
I know I'm capable of crazy things. My problem (like every artist) is that I have an gargantuan fear of failure. It terrifies me to the point of paralysis. The scenario has happened repeatedly where I work myself to a position where I could really launch and be brave and work my butt off and either catastrophically fail or gloriously succeed; I have never allowed myself to leave the launch pad. Instead, I take the backseat, amble along, and get by.
I'm tired of being underwhelming. I'm tired of being consumed by my fears.
One of my safeguards from failure is that I over-occupy myself and over-commit myself. I engross myself in ten tasks or projects at once and placate my frustrations with a failure by success in another realm. I have to maintain balance. I fear what shape I would be in if I fully engrossed myself in a project and it flopped. This has happened on smaller scales, and my skin is still so thin that I have to hermit myself away from everything, grieve, and re-emerge afterwards pretending it's all kosher, when really I'm just building frustration and callouses on my heart.
The unfortunate truth of the matter is that I am adult. And as such, it is time to start behaving like one. I have known how to behave as an adult for a long, long time but have allowed myself to use my youth and age as an excuse. I am not permitted these allowances anymore.
The time has come for some self-evaluation, growth, and intense struggle.
What do I want to be when I grow up?
This is a question I cannot and should not avoid any longer. If I could be anything in the universe in the short(ish) term, what would I pursue? The ultimate short term dream would be to be in the ensemble of a Broadway show or national tour.
That just doesn't seem realistic.
I'm not trying to garner pity or "oh no, don't say that"s but I just want to stay honest. I'm a decent dancer, a decent singer, and a decent actor. But I feel a little bit like Harold Hill in this regard--I've just tricked everyone into thinking I'm good enough when really it's all a faux facade and I'm not especially great at any of the three.
This leads to the next quandary/conundrum: do I want this badly enough that I kick my butt into some serious, serious training and set myself up for repeated heartbreak and really give this a go? I mean get my body into crazy shape, take endless lessons, fail, fail, and fail some more and hope that I'm not wasting time?
This is usually the point where my brain says, "Wait! You are moderately successful at so many other things! Why don't you become a writer? Why don't you pursue some business endeavor? Why don't you become an entrepeneur? Why don't you find some stable job that you know you could maintain?" Here is where trouble enters. But these same cyclical issues would probably occur in these other fields as well. I also can't tolerate wasting time. What if I do say, "let's do this. 100% guns a-blazing" and three or five years later I haven't made it?
If I'm being really painfully honest with myself (which is never fun), none of the alternatives could ever satisfy me as wholly as performing. Creating on the other side of the table/teaching and writing serve as close, close seconds (and I am convinced that I could be satisfied enough doing them for a living) but performing is my one true love. It's unfortunate that it's so damn hard.
I haven't found the answer just yet, but I am not procrastinating the search any longer. At least the questions and honest perseptive is out there as well as I know how at the moment.
I apologize to my family for having two swear words in this article. This isn't the kind of language you enjoy and I hope you'll forgive me for being ineloquent. I apologize to my readers for being boring as of late, and for being self-deprecating (albeit more honest than I have been lately) in this post. Lastly, I apologize to myself. Step it up, Gentsch. I know you can.
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