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

2001-12-17 - 1:15 a.m.

The slipperiness of Time, and some brushes with acting, and a bit more moping.

Boy, oh boy don't that time just keep ticking along? It's like trying to balance a pencil on your palm, point down. One moment's inattention, and it gets away from you.

I had this whole being proactive, and productive thing going on. I was getting up early and doing things, and trying to worm my way into a new career. Then last week, I backslid. I did very little of anything useful. The useful stuff was looking for another job in a career that I suspect is bent of sucking the soul out of me.

I'm making a list in my head of the things I've actually *done* to get work as an actor. It really isn't much. That needs to change. Tomorrow.

Oh, there's so much more to tell. About my visit to a real, honest to goodness film studio, and watching people who weren't professionals making mistakes that even greenhorn me could recognize, and thinking "I could *so* do that", and then not having time to do my voice-over work.

And then there's about going to the play directed by Scooter, who directed my last play, and all the vicarious rush of people-on-stage, and why isn't that me? And the long and good talk with people afterwards, and things on the horizon, and encouragement from people.

Not to mention the dinner with RockGirl and Mom, and watching them talk for like fifteen minutes without me ever saying a peep, and watching Mom sizing up, accepting, and beginning the calculations and connivings, while I sat there vacillating between doubt and butterflies. And the late-night fuel light emergency in the wilds of Saudi Aurora. And then, after a good night of good conversation, and little cues, and little touches that were unnecessary, but also needful, then comes that inevitable Moment of Truth, and once again I am a coward.

I didn't really want to get into this right now, but I'll just say one thing. I won't go into the whys right now, I'll just say it and be done.

Despite any evidence to the contrary, and in spite of all my efforts to bolster my self-esteem and believe in myself, at that inevitable Moment of Truth.

I honestly don't believe that any woman would choose to be with me.

And in the face of that, I rarely have the heart to ask to be presented with failure and rejection. Again.

The trouble is that you can't win if you don't bet.

Oh, and as sick as you are of hearing my whine about this, believe me, I'm a hundred times sicker of living it. I'll shut down the melodrama machine now, and just go to bed.

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