Helpless Doorknobs

I start rehearsals for a play this Friday. My friend, Blitz (Issaquah Kidstage friend), is a student at NYU and she is directing and writing a production called Helpless Doorknobs, based on a poem with the same name by the macabre writer and illustrator Edward Gorey. Here is some of his work:

Needless to say, I'm wicked excited. The show runs the weekend of November 7. Come play in the city and come watch me do my thang.

Miracles

Miracle #1: Tami and Bryce find each other in the train station.

Miracle #2: Ace Maxwell Stewart.

Miracle #3: Natasha Stewart's hair and wardrobe.

Miracle #4: Natasha's brother-in-law IS XIU XIU?!

Miracle #5: Deep fried hard-boiled eggs.

Miracle #6: Ghetto slurpees.

Miracle #7: Bryce is actually ok at darts.

Miracle #8: Stolen chalk and vandalism in Greenpoint.

Miracle #9: Quesadillas at 4 am.

Miracle #10: We woke up the next day.

Miracle #11: Goat cheese & spinach omelette.

Miracle #12: New York City and company.

Finding

Reflections

Since I left my Acting Lab session on Friday afternoon, I have been overwhelmed by a feeling I have not felt in years, and never to this extent, as I honestly never thought I would feel it again. The feeling: lost, completely incapable of doing the one thing about which I thought I knew nearly everything there was to know. Ruth Nerken, my Acting Lab teacher and a woman whom I have the utmost confidence is going to change my life drastically, stopped me thirty seconds into my monologue, a monologue I have lived and breathed for nine months now, and attempted to loosen me up. I was too comfortable in my situation. It was not true to the character's circumstance.

Nothing she did worked. Nothing.

Something happened, though. I have never had to work hard at script analysis, I always know exactly what my intention is and what my motivation is and what my tactics are and where every beat changes. As painfully shy as I was as a child, I've grown up living inside of my own head, always watching. The obsession I developed with human behavior and why people do the things that they do is what makes the intellectual side of this art form so easy for me. However, when I found my voice and lost my shyness upon discovering the theatre, my living inside of my own head did not change and still has not. I have a habit of scripting everything that I do, from what I say to what I wear to how I sit or stand; it is all completely purposeful and planned. My goals for this next year:

-Stop thinking so damn hard all the damn time.

-Learn to not ACT vulnerable and available, but actually BE vulnerable and available.

-In short, LOOSEN UP.

P.S.

My room.

Details

Blogging is so strange. I'm okay being a self-absorbed 21st century brat when I'm on Facebook or Myspace. All that is is pictures of myself and phrases here and there that I think make me sound interesting or "cool", whatever the hell that means. But this is so much like my journal, and yet I am supposed to write it so that other people can read it? It's odd. I'm not sure what to say, what is interesting to other people. I guess I could start with what my schedule consists of now, for those of you close enough to me to care what it is I do day to day.

Monday starts with Movement from 1:30 to 3:30 pm. It's a lot of core work and body isolation (thank you, Mo Brady!). Then I have Meisner Technique from 6 to 9 pm. It's a lot of repetition and learning to act on my impulses to visceral experiences. No backstory for my character, no analysis of script text and then playing with possible objectives. No thinking at all, really, which is a challenge for someone who is so inside of his own head all the time. My professor is a tall, lanky, sarcastic old man who chainsmokes and wanted to be an undertaker until he was 13, when he decided acting sounded like more fun. If I've ever had a crush on a teacher, it's on him.

Tuesday is Actor's Lab, Voice & Speech, and Movement again.

Wednesday is Meisner, Voice & Speech, and Introduction to the Camera.

Thursday is NO SCHOOOL.

The week ends with Film Genres (lots of watching movies. I'll be spending this first semester delving into Blade Runner and sharing my discoveries with the class.) and Actor's Lab again.

I wake up and fall asleep most nights and mornings in Brooklyn Heights, where my new home, the Hotel St. George, is located. This isn't the housing projects side of Brooklyn. In fact, my neighborhood has the lowest crime rate in the city. It's a quaint (for NYC) residential area with lots of little cafes and parks. The traffic gets quiet at night (rare in Manhattan) so it's easy to fall asleep. And, we're right along the East River, so the breathtaking Manhattan skyline can be enjoyed just a few blocks away from my building. Next door to the George is the Clark Street subway station, so the East Village is just a hop, skip, and a jump away from my dorm room.

I promise my posts will become gradually more interesting. I've only been here just long enough to get settled and explore a bit. It already is home, but I'm still riding the exciting wave of having just arrived. There will be many stories to come. Just wait.

Peace and love.

The Arrival

A week and a half in New York City and it feels like a year. I say that with the utmost contentment, something I'm not sure I have ever felt before now. A single day in this town consists of what feels like a week's worth of sights, sounds, smells, and feelings. I think I've found my place.

BROOKLYN

HOME SWEET HOME

The view from my room.

The lobby.

My stop.

MANHATTAN (from Brooklyn Heights)

MANHATTAN (from the inside)

Michaelan

Alex

Erin (eating her FIRST pb&j)

Dakota

Caesar, Erin, Tommy, Bryce

Slumming at Union Square

Tommy, Erin

Going out...

Bryce, Erin

Michaelan

The next day:

Michaelan, Tommy, Erin, and Bryce grocery shopping.

Chipotle

ELECTRIC ZOO on RANDALL ISLAND