the run
I've picked up a new hobby since returning from D.C.: running. I've never been much of a runner or athlete, so it's kind of a new, exciting venture for me. All those stories about runner's high have got me pumped. I haven't thrown myself into running so intensely that I've experienced it yet, but I do feel invigorated.
Despite playing a season of tennis my freshman year of high school and inexplicably joining the cross country squad my senior year even though I'd never ran competitively before, I've never considered myself very fit. Love sports, just never played any. Well, that may change.
I'm mulling over taking a role in a production of TAKE ME OUT, Richard Greenberg's baseball drama, at the Unicorn Theatre in Kansas City. It will be the first regional production of the show since it closed on Broadway at the beginning of the year. It's got a lengthy run and would net me quite a bit of equity points, too. And it would cost me my chance to go to the O'Neill Critic's Institute.
Our head critic at the Kennedy Center had posed a question to me during our exit interview. "So writing's not your thing, is it?"
He amended the statement. "I mean, I know it's *one* of your things, of course, but it's not *the* thing, is it?"
I looked at him and said, "No, sir. No, it's not."
And there's my dilemma. I love writing and directing, too, but I want to be a performer. I am an actor. I am a musician. I know the wonderful bunch of friends I made this year at the Kennedy Center are hyphenates as well: they're all writers/directors/actors/rock stars/etc. But for two years now, I've felt like a tourist. I look around the room and see writers, but can't quite apply that title to myself.
The head critic gauges my answer for a moment: "No sir, it's not." He replies, "Well, the O'Neill Institute will be an opportunity for you to work on your writing, and improve that." I would love to be there. The O'Neill is an extremely flattering and prestigious opportunity. It's not lost on me how big this is. And I feel like to turn it down would be a insulting gesture and disservice to all of the wonderful people I competed with, all of whom wanted this very opportunity. But it would be the second time this year that I backed away from doing something that I love, for something else that I love, but that I love a little bit less.
I can't go on blocking my own shots, doing things I am good at while turning away opportunities to do the things that I love.
I know it's just regional theatre. I know it's just a minor role. But it would be my first professional acting job for an equity theatre. And it lasts the entire summer rather than the two weeks that the O'Neill would. It would be in a regional market that I may be moving to soon.
The Unicorn's offered me the role of an ace Japanese pitcher in the show, which means I would need to weight train for the role. Not become a meathead or anything, mind you, but get toned and bulk up just a bit. I'm a small guy. Suspension of disbelief wouldn't go too far in convincing you that I'd be a major league baseball player. But despite this, they offered me the role. And it would break my heart to turn it down.
So here I am, mulling over decisions. I've appreciated what Dan and Mark have done for me the last two years through the National Critics Institute. I've grown immensely as a writer because of them and they've shown an immense amount of faith in me. It tears me up to have to choose between these two things.
So I run. I do homework when I have to, I attend rehearsals, I even gig with the band. But right now, it's all about lacing the shoes, stretching, and stepping off of my porch. I'm running to strengthen my smoke-filled lungs. I'm running to feel my stomach tighten and my head lighten up with endorphins and I'm running towards that euphoric feeling that I'm promised will come. I'll arrive at a decision soon, but until then, it's one minute after another, with heels and toes striking pavement. It's the metronome that marks the inevitable choice I'll need to make. Very soon.
Despite playing a season of tennis my freshman year of high school and inexplicably joining the cross country squad my senior year even though I'd never ran competitively before, I've never considered myself very fit. Love sports, just never played any. Well, that may change.
I'm mulling over taking a role in a production of TAKE ME OUT, Richard Greenberg's baseball drama, at the Unicorn Theatre in Kansas City. It will be the first regional production of the show since it closed on Broadway at the beginning of the year. It's got a lengthy run and would net me quite a bit of equity points, too. And it would cost me my chance to go to the O'Neill Critic's Institute.
Our head critic at the Kennedy Center had posed a question to me during our exit interview. "So writing's not your thing, is it?"
He amended the statement. "I mean, I know it's *one* of your things, of course, but it's not *the* thing, is it?"
I looked at him and said, "No, sir. No, it's not."
And there's my dilemma. I love writing and directing, too, but I want to be a performer. I am an actor. I am a musician. I know the wonderful bunch of friends I made this year at the Kennedy Center are hyphenates as well: they're all writers/directors/actors/rock stars/etc. But for two years now, I've felt like a tourist. I look around the room and see writers, but can't quite apply that title to myself.
The head critic gauges my answer for a moment: "No sir, it's not." He replies, "Well, the O'Neill Institute will be an opportunity for you to work on your writing, and improve that." I would love to be there. The O'Neill is an extremely flattering and prestigious opportunity. It's not lost on me how big this is. And I feel like to turn it down would be a insulting gesture and disservice to all of the wonderful people I competed with, all of whom wanted this very opportunity. But it would be the second time this year that I backed away from doing something that I love, for something else that I love, but that I love a little bit less.
I can't go on blocking my own shots, doing things I am good at while turning away opportunities to do the things that I love.
I know it's just regional theatre. I know it's just a minor role. But it would be my first professional acting job for an equity theatre. And it lasts the entire summer rather than the two weeks that the O'Neill would. It would be in a regional market that I may be moving to soon.
The Unicorn's offered me the role of an ace Japanese pitcher in the show, which means I would need to weight train for the role. Not become a meathead or anything, mind you, but get toned and bulk up just a bit. I'm a small guy. Suspension of disbelief wouldn't go too far in convincing you that I'd be a major league baseball player. But despite this, they offered me the role. And it would break my heart to turn it down.
So here I am, mulling over decisions. I've appreciated what Dan and Mark have done for me the last two years through the National Critics Institute. I've grown immensely as a writer because of them and they've shown an immense amount of faith in me. It tears me up to have to choose between these two things.
So I run. I do homework when I have to, I attend rehearsals, I even gig with the band. But right now, it's all about lacing the shoes, stretching, and stepping off of my porch. I'm running to strengthen my smoke-filled lungs. I'm running to feel my stomach tighten and my head lighten up with endorphins and I'm running towards that euphoric feeling that I'm promised will come. I'll arrive at a decision soon, but until then, it's one minute after another, with heels and toes striking pavement. It's the metronome that marks the inevitable choice I'll need to make. Very soon.