(no subject)
One year ago I wrote:
I'm going crazy down here . . . Just wandering around aimlessly, searching for signs of intelligent life. I'll let you know if I find any, but don't keep your fingers crossed. Sigh . . . And it hasn't even been a week . . .
And a small excerpt from an e-mail I wrote exactly a year ago:
I'm still feeling lost and melancholy, but I'm making a concerted effort to celebrate rather than dwell--which is so important for me.
I can't say that I'm looking forward to returning to school in LA. I'm returning more out of duty than desire. My class is dominated with people who put their egos ahead of their work, and needless to say, that doesn't make for a very pleasurable training experience. Of course, that's something you always come across in this business, and I guess it doesn't hurt getting used to that reality early. We were all spoiled at RADA with having a class of generous, giving, and supportive people. The trust we all had with each other at RADA allowed for a calmness and enjoyment that is totally missing from my school, where anxiety and fear fuel the work--not creativity, ingenuity, or trust. At least I get to do more Shakespeare next year, so it can't be all bad. Granted, Shakespeare at my school usually involves some sort of pseudo-avant-garde aesthetic (cringe), which may or may not violate some obscure obscenity laws. So I may be speaking Shakespeare's words while being dangled upside down over a fire (or something equally as bizarre), but no matter what they do, they at least can't take away the words! (I hope.) And when my teachers yell, "Destroy the text," I might pelt them back with some of GDP's pearls of wisdom.
Seems like a different me. How odd a thing is time. . .
I'm going crazy down here . . . Just wandering around aimlessly, searching for signs of intelligent life. I'll let you know if I find any, but don't keep your fingers crossed. Sigh . . . And it hasn't even been a week . . .
And a small excerpt from an e-mail I wrote exactly a year ago:
I'm still feeling lost and melancholy, but I'm making a concerted effort to celebrate rather than dwell--which is so important for me.
I can't say that I'm looking forward to returning to school in LA. I'm returning more out of duty than desire. My class is dominated with people who put their egos ahead of their work, and needless to say, that doesn't make for a very pleasurable training experience. Of course, that's something you always come across in this business, and I guess it doesn't hurt getting used to that reality early. We were all spoiled at RADA with having a class of generous, giving, and supportive people. The trust we all had with each other at RADA allowed for a calmness and enjoyment that is totally missing from my school, where anxiety and fear fuel the work--not creativity, ingenuity, or trust. At least I get to do more Shakespeare next year, so it can't be all bad. Granted, Shakespeare at my school usually involves some sort of pseudo-avant-garde aesthetic (cringe), which may or may not violate some obscure obscenity laws. So I may be speaking Shakespeare's words while being dangled upside down over a fire (or something equally as bizarre), but no matter what they do, they at least can't take away the words! (I hope.) And when my teachers yell, "Destroy the text," I might pelt them back with some of GDP's pearls of wisdom.
Seems like a different me. How odd a thing is time. . .