As an “auditioning actress” I constantly pour my soul into a different characters. I step into their world. I envision their life as if it were my own. Their hurt, their pain, their trials. Their victories, their triumphs, and their joys.
I give them my time. I give them my compassion. I give them my heart.
And when I don’t book a role – for whatever reason that may be (I am too young, too old, too brunette, too blonde, to short, too tall, have too few followers on Instagram – yes that happens. Often.) – I feel as if the character, this part of me, this piece of my heart, is taken from me.
It’s almost like a breakup…
I found this graphic I had drawn in one of my idea journals from a creative advertising class in college. I feel it somewhat applies…
I feel for these girls. I hurt for these women. Even long after my audition I remember them. For they are now – and will always be – a part of me.
I was watching the Avengers last night, and there was this moment where Jeremy Renner’s character is encouraging Elizabeth Olsen’s character to come out from the shelter she has found in the midst of a battle and to fight. He says something along the lines of:
“Look. They’re equipped with powerful weapons. I have only a bow and arrow. It makes no sense. But I continue to go out there and fight. Because that’s my job.”
In that moment tears filled my eyes. For that is so often how I feel… I feel as if I am equipped with only a bow and arrow facing many more powerful forces (actresses with more credits, the sheer nature of the entertainment industry as a whole, the “lottery” of it all – even getting an audition, much less booking a role).
Yet I continue to pour my soul into these characters. I continue to fight for the roles and projects about which I am passionate. I continue to give my heart – and my hair color! – to these girls, to these women, whom I have the honor of portraying – even if only for three minutes in an audition room… It makes no sense. But it is my job.
And so I press on. And so I continue to leave the comfort of shelter. And so I continue to fight. And I say… “Just take it. Take another little piece of my heart now, baby.”
