Boundaries. Everyone has them. For some, it's in the form of a small, well-manicured hedge that lines their yard; others, it's an eight-foot fence with barbed wire at the top. We used to have a hedge that went along the sides of our back yard. I used to love running through it, as if I were crossing the finish line of a marathon. As a result, I think those two bushes never did grow all the way together, but I'd have to go back to check for sure.
I like quiet time. I enjoy sitting on my sofa and watching the West Wing and knitting and not speaking for hours at a time, other than to talk along with whatever Josh Lyman is saying. I like working by myself, in a quiet room with lots of books around me, piles of notes and photocopies and post-its with subjects written on them. I'm well-versed in boundaries because I have a lot of them.
I like to shake hands with people when I first meet them - a good firm handshake thank you so much, none of that limp-wristed dead fish bullshit - because I think you can tell a lot about someone from a handshake. I also like to look people in the eye. I don't mind speaking in front of people, classrooms, auditoriums, or otherwise. And, as evidenced by my choice of profession, I don't mind performing in front of people. I like it a great deal, truth be told. I enjoy putting on lots of silly makeup (when I have the good eye makeup remover to take it all off at the end of the night) and yes, even the riding in silly contraptions that fly across the stage, and I like singing stuff that's high and impressive.
Auditioning is a weird thing. It's about 1/3 of the way between practicing, rehearsing and performing. You should emote, but not necessarily stage the entire scene by yourself. You should be demonstrative but not do anything silly like mime props. You should dress in a way that befits your character and sometimes, the characters you inhabit, but showing up in a burlap sack when you're auditioning for Gilda is a stretch. I've been working on this process for a while and after a full week of what I would characterize as 'successful' auditions, my managers suggested that they still find me to be reserved in the audition room.
Now it's my nature to read too much into criticism - it's that analytical part of the brain that does really well in the academic situation but when it comes to subjectivity goes completely berserk. When I first read it, my immediate reaction was, "Well, that's right. I am a little reserved when I meet new people." My second and third reactions were, "Does that mean I didn't sing well? Do they not like what I do?" The reactions that followed were decreasingly rational and I ended up curled up in a ball on the blue chair for about five minutes, contemplating how much I suck at auditioning.
A few hours and a hot shower later, I'm back in the land of the rational again. I keep having to remind myself that this business is not about selling ME. It's about selling the singer. And it's okay if the singer likes to go out and smile and shimmy just a little when she walks into the room because, thank you Weight Watchers, she has lost a little junk off the trunk and is looking pretty fine these days. It's also okay if the real me likes to sit on the sofa and knit gloves and pet the dog. But it's not okay for either of those people to judge each other.
So we're going to go dry the hair now and walk the dog, who's been so sweet while his mommy was freaking out. When I call his name, he comes running, ears up and tail wagging, because he knows it's me. And I know it's me too.
