this is what happens when i get an audition

firstly, dopamine. i have been chosen! my agent's emails are always very chic. i don't know how else to describe it. the font is small and everything is lined up neatly. that combined with her endless putting me on a pedestal (even though i have not booked a single tv/film job yet), her incredibly friendly calls, balanced with her absolute disinterest in theatre- makes for a collaborator that is cunning, yet warm enough for me to be able to dream in this void of an industry.

the second stage, the days leading up to the audition or self-tape are pure bliss. i read as many plays that the playwright has written or watch the tv show or films of the filmmaker. i break down the script, i eat healthier because i'm happier and i wake up kinder. my days are a dream because i get to breathe my craft in and out. i get to revel in the stimulation and thank god i am not tied to any institution or anything else that would not allow me to dream about the potential of wherever the job would take me. friends (artists) point out to me that all of the work and research is "unpaid labour". i was convinced by that at one point. after all, i do live in toronto and i finally started drinking coffee so that's a new daily cost- but if working on one's craft is unpaid labour, when does artistry begin? when someone invites you into a rehearsal process? when the camera turns on?

there was a point in time where i refused to get off-book for auditions. it wasn't "worth my energy". and then i had to get a grip and nurture that little girl in me who just couldn't handle anymore fantasies she was drawing up in her head with each potential that came her way.

back to the list, audition day eventually comes and i am still blissful. i rarely get stressed anymore and even if i do i have made friends with nerves and leave the door ajar for embarrassment. it all fuels the pursuit of excellence and aliveness (thank you timothee chalamet for allowing us to say the things we mean and yearn for without fear of pretention).

and then, life continues on.

if i'm lucky, i have another audition quickly after. if i'm luckier, i book. if the sky is blue and the grass is green, i'm back to journaling, thinking, learning, reading, regulating, dreaming, longing

it's a practice of not wanting to suffer in the longing because i know that's self inflicted pain, but also not wanting to give into a sense of dishonest apathy that sounds like "i didn't want it anyway". every day, month, year i do get better with all of this. i make friends with the unknown. i make love to uncertainty. what else can i do? it makes me an inevitable romantic. it makes me feel mushy for people who i assume also dream like i do even if they probably would rather have me dead to cut out competition, or don't care about me at all.

in loving something so unpredictable, i find solace in myself. i learn and unlearn then re-learn that i don’t need to rely anywhere else.

so i'm here. i hold my hand. i brush myself off. i say, great job! i saw that choice you made, how nuanced. and oh, that moment, so visceral and completely impulsive. and yes, that other take did have a better climax, but the one we sent was inevitably better overall. i see it all. no one else can ever see it all. they can't know the history that informed all of it. where the breath has lived. all of the failure. the need.

no one will ever know. so i make peace.

and then,

another email.