Today was a long day at the actor’s studio, so once again this post may be abridged. I arrived at the studio a little after eleven to practice my two scenes with the two different groups I have been assigned to. Eight hours later, I made my way home through a torrential thunderstorm. Starving and exhausted. My Sunday’s have become very intensive, introspective, emotional, internal bouts. Maybe bouts is too violent a word. Maybe dance would be a better choice. Although I know I shouldn’t be, I am pleasantly surprised by how much fundamental acting skills resemble the skills necessary for good writing and mediating: principally, honesty with oneself, attention to one’s senses and the ability to expose oneself. All done to better understand our fellow men and women. But unfortunately, I am still a novice writer and meditatetor, so my mind tends to drift when it should be focusing. During our breathing exercises my thoughts floated. This is where they occasionally landed:
Human beings were meant to be closer.
Strangers seldom touch. Even the most passing grazes have been removed from our societal norms.
We may sometimes awkwardly hug, but every caress, hand on a shoulder, or held hand has been labeled intimate, sinful, or erotic and so we pass each other trapped in our bodies. Disconnected. Our skin the prison door.
Acting allows you to live in multiple realities simultaneously.
Once we stop judging our own behavior, it becomes easier to not judge others.
Why have I been so scared to embarrass myself?
We each have our own methods to free ourselves. Our own speeds, enthusiasms, abilities, and reasons.
Truly expressing emotions validates life. Acting allows you to express emotions. We suppress our emotions in our everyday lives and so that is why we look to art to help us fulfill what they could be.
I said this would be short and here I still am. My mind is comfortably tired, and so now, I will crawl into bed with my pregnant wife and hold them tight. Someone I am allowed to touch. Someone who will touch me back.