What made things even worse was the fact that I had been cast in four additional plays over the coming summer, and I’d never set foot before the lights. I really thought I was going to die. What was I thinking? Who in his right mind would ever want to perform in front of a bunch of strangers? Could I possibly be more stupid? If I could have kicked myself, I would have, about a million times over.
When I walked onstage the first time, every muscle in my body was twitching. I could see my cheek and a few strands of hair out of the corner of my eye, both shaking in unison. My face felt like a furnace and my ears started to tingle. I think I forgot the lines because I was on the verge of passing out. Pure adrenaline was what kept me going. When the play finally ended and I left the stage, I collapsed. I’ve been acting ever since–because I fell in love with the art of it.
What was once a desire to “perform” is now a passion for truth. Acting is an art, just like writing or painting. You start from scratch with a blank canvas. Then slowly, as you gather information, make decisions and discover possibilities, you begin to create shape. You outline the character, get inside and walk around for a bit.
Then you begin to define the empty spaces within the lines. What drives this person to action? Is it angel pain, guilt or frustration? I look for the core of the part. Is it the heart, the mind or the gut? All this is an attempt to find the truth. There is the character’s truth, the playwright’s truth and the truth of the relationship between the play and the audience.
Your search becomes the most important thing in your life. It is hard to think about the paper you have to write, or the job you have to work. You want to give life to the words on paper, and you struggle endlessly to do it. If, after all the hours of expended energy, you finally reach the truth, a whole realm of possibilities opens to you. You have the chance to share this life you’ve created with the audience. If only one person believes in that truth, you have touched a soul. If you can touch a soul, you have the power to change a life.
When I started college I was an English major. I had always wanted to be a teacher, not an actor. Now I know that the two go hand in hand. Acting is creation. It’s learning, and it’s hard work. I love what I do. I wish to spend my life doing it. I have a drive inside of me that must be recognized. Yet there is a common misconception that all aspiring actors desire fame and fortune and that success is measured by popularity.
To me, fame is an ugly word. There are plenty of people in the entertainment or sports world who do what they do in an attempt to achieve fame. But there are others who simply can’t do anything else and remain whole. These are the ones who find the art within themselves. Success for them comes only when the art has been expressed in its purest form. Only the actor knows when he has truly succeeded.
When someone asks me what I do in school and I tell them “acting,” they often say, “Oh, you want to be famous, eh?” It drives me crazy. In fact, it makes me so angry that sometimes I envision myself reaching for that person’s throat and squeezing until the thee turns blue.
This sounds extreme, I know. But I want people to realize that actors have a skill, just like computer technicians or accountants. I have studied hard. I have sacrificed a social life to rehearse. For the past three years, my commitments have totaled approximately 80 hours a week. I work at a cafe in town from 5.30 a.m. to 11 a.m., four days a week and as a stitcher in the costume shop at Chico State. I take 15 academic units a semester and rehearse five days a week, three to four hours a night. I usually have a third job during Christmas and sporadically throughout the year.
I have paid for my education, and I’ve never been paid for my acting. I’ve driven myself into the ground, getting pneumonia twice in the last three years, with bronchitis, strep throat and flu in between. For the next three years, I will be attending graduate school to get my master’s in fine arts in acting. Classes run five days a week from 9 in the morning until 11 at night. Am I putting myself through all this to be famous?
What I’ve done is typical of most acting students I know. It seems we’d sooner be categorized as insane than star-struck. Achieving fame for an actor has more to do with luck than talent. It’s about being in the right place at the right time, making the right connections and being resilient to endless rejections. Fame is a possible end result. It isn’t a goal.
I have a goal: to be the best actor I can be. I want to run a race that never ends, to understand people and to learn every day how to expand my mind. I want to search for the truth and find beauty.
My intentions are clear, my motivations are pure and I know how to work hard. As long as I can express myself through my art, I will be happy. I do not wish to measure my success by society’s standards. I don’t want to be “famous .” I just want to be an actor.
That choice has been easier for me to make because of my incredible family. I know there are others who wish to pursue a career in acting who haven’t had this advantage. My family’s emotional support has been invaluable to me. Their continued faith has made the struggles and the disappointments less painful. As long as they are with me, I know I can survive the ups and downs of this impossible profession.
