a long overdue airing out

i've been followed around by a cloud today. a little black one that just hovers over my right shoulder tripping me up and keeping me down. i have good days and bad days all the time, but this was weird because it felt like a black day. dark and paralyzing. waiting to get into a car accident or for bad news to be delivered and feeling the pressure of my own hand holding me down. this is my doing, i just don't know how. or why.

strangely it's coming at the heels of yesterday which was was a big day but a good day. i finally got into the mail a project that i have been working on voraciously for the past week straight {if not more}. a good, life and color breathing project that i was proud to send off into the world, anxious and hopeful for what i might get back. and it was a rare moment of daring. of so clearly laying out my desire to connect to a good many special people in my life and perhaps it's just a scary thing to be sitting in this purgatory of silence. silence because they haven't arrived yet.

anyway, there has been a little fall in the spirits today. a little crash after such a peak. perhaps i can discount it as that.

or not.

this seems a little darker.

hmm....{digging deeper}

all last night i was aware that i was avoided posting about how the artist's way meeting went for me so maybe it's that?

sigh. i guess i'll go into it...

last artist's way session was a rough one in that one of the activities we did specifically addressed the moment i described in my "chapter 7" post regarding the painful silence i experienced after the meisner showcase. after performing a rather risky part in front of so many important people in my life, all i received in return was silence. no words of encouragement or even honoring how far i'd come since the last piece of mine many of them had seen. the piece could have {did?} suck but there was still room for "wow, that was a risky part playing a whore who's been molested by her father. way to be daring." or "congrats on all the hard work." or SOMETHING besides silence. {fuck. here we go again. ugh.}

so the questions were along the lines of: name an artistic scar. how did the experience impact me? what did the experience tell me? what else could have been the truth about it? what do i say about it now?

and then we were asked to share if we wanted. which i did. because it's one thing to write about it here, in this space, behind the veil of technology, or even free-write about it in the room with others off in their space and another thing entirely to put to voice the shame, the thick, viscous shame that welled up in me in the telling. failure it taunted. failure.

it was incredible to tell the story and not be met with more silence {i've mentioned it a few times to those attending and only received a huh. in reply} but with champions who validated my experience, who stood up for the right i had to hear something, anything, even gentle constructive criticism or at least the best spin on a bad situation like "wow, that was a risky role" or "that was much heavier subject matter than i expected." or just something that acknowledged the role of witness to my presentation.

and the heart ached and the tears came. finally. a year and a half later. and i guess perhaps today was just about clearing out some of that baggage i've been holding on to for that long. the paralyzing humiliation of failure.

i liked the last two questions: what else could have been the truth about it? and what do i say about it now?

the first is a hard one. i don't want to accept any other truth beyond failure. nor do i find in myself the strength to look the silent ones in the eye and ask how was it? but at least a voice is given to the small possibility that the silence was just a product of thoughtfulness, or even just out of respect to the vulnerability of the piece {much like many readers here have confessed in person that they feel any comments intrudes upon my space here}. i don't know. i am still at the stage where i'm bullying out any positive thoughts about the situation more effectively than the mean kid in sixth grade.

but the second question is a bit easier and one i do have enough perspective on: what do i say about it now? whether or not the piece and presentation was a failure, it was simply a stepping stone. it was one act at the end of an enormous amount of personal growth and in no way is burdened with the responsibility to reflect that growth NOR does it reflect whether or not i have any talent or ability as an actor. we were not directed for the sake of presentation, we were guided by a teacher toward authenticity. this was just one moment in time. one step.

now let me take the next one, whatever that is. even a small one.

and in the meantime, let it no longer matter that the one person who did comment might be too emotional or sappy or whatever i want to use to cut her down to get at myself and that all that matters is her truth which was that i made her cry. and that's something, even as begrudgingly as i'll believe it at this moment.




currently listening to: burial -- forgive on repeat.