No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction at anytime.
There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction,
a blessed unrest keeps us marching and makes us more alive than others.
-- Martha Graham to Agnes De Mille
Was || Will Be || Past Moments || Now || Notes

2003-06-04 - 12:01 a.m.

Intensity and sense of humor, keeping the latter in the face of the former

So, it's late and I'm tired, tired, tired as hell. I should be going to sleep. I should already be asleep.

This Intensive thing is...um...intense. And it's kicking my ass. Today we had a two-hour hip hop dance class.

I'm so fucking out of shape. There are all these flatlanders in from New York and other places, and I'm huffing along with them. But I can't blame the altitude. I'm just wicked out of shape.

So, yeah, it's kicking my ass. I've already had to memorize and perform a scene, and this was only the second day.


So, today, we were introducing ourselves to a new teacher, and we were all saying how it was that we ended up in this Intensive. Many people auditioned for the grad school that this Intensive is associated with. Several of them said that when they auditioned, AuditionerGuy told them they should come and do the Intensive. Which made me sit back and think what he had said to me when I auditioned. So it gets to me and I say "Yeah, well I auditioned too, and AuditionerGuy told me to have a nice day."

And the teacher says to me "It's good you have a sense of humor about it. Hold on to that."

I'm trying really hard to believe that I deserve to be there, and that I can hold my own. I want so badly to believe that this is the life for me, and that I can cut it.

More as the week wears on.

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