Raw, incohesive, sometimes funny, sometimes serious thoughts that bleed through my untethered soul.
As part of school, it’s imperative as actors that we keep a journal for certain classes documenting our discoveries and reflect on ourselves in our emotions, habits, patterns, and thoughts…so here are some of my thoughts and observations from this year for myself as a human being and myself as a growing artist.
**Mind you, these entries were written over the course of October 2017-November 2017, in no chronological order, so the responses and entries I’ve written then differs from where I am today! 🙂
I’ve forgotten how good it feels to get lose in a good old novel. I remember my parents berating me for spending so much time “wasting time” reading novels when I could be gaining knowledge reading something more useful, like a textbook or anything nonfiction. Or helping out around the house (vacuuming, dishes, etc). I was listening to a podcast the other day and learned that novels engage in the right half of the brain, stimulating creativity. Now that’s something! I remember that same week I allowed myself for the first time in a long time to pick up a novel. I don’t remember what it was, but I know it was marvelous. <3
I have so much rage within me that I’ve shit out because I’ve become so sick and tired of it. Then it turns to bordem or sadness–but all those emotions: bordem, sadness, anger–they are all varying degrees of frustration. As an artist, I need to let go of judgement and analytical thinking in order to grow. There’s nothing wrong with exploring these feelings or showing these feelings–there;’s nothing wrong with wearing my heart out on my sleeve. I have got to stop telling myself it’s self-indulgent. I am beautiful, I am creative. I am an uncensored artist.
Oh Erika,
I really like to get things right. To master a concept and poish its presentation. To be prepared adn know its outcome. But this puts a lot of frustration and pressure on the results–and good resulta re never garaunteed. I hate it because it makes me so anxious! I hate looking stupid and I hate not being competitent and I also hate the fact that I hate it. I KNOW this and I’m judging myself for JUDGING myself(I tend to self-reflect a lot of critique my own thoughts).
Any advice?
Quiz:
- attic or basement?
- city or countryside?
- amusement park or shopping mall?
- office or classroom?
- movie theatre or opera house?
- mountain peak of water’s edge?
- deep in a cave or deep in the woods?
- log cabin or penthouse?
- balcony or bridge?
- parking lot or gas station?
- bank or post office?
- bakery or candy shop?
- nightclub or corner pub?
- hiking trail or porch swing?
3 reasons to smile today:
- I had a wonderful run this morning.
- I feel energetic today.
- I got homework organized and done./
3 things I love to talk about:
- self-development/leadership
- winter
- people’s stories
1 thing I usually avoid talking about:
- politics
2 people I haven’t met yet, but would love to talk to:
Somewhere I’ll go: Europe.
Something I’ll do: Sky Diving.
The best/most memorable conversation I’ve had in the last 7 days:
Chatting with Andrea about her boyfriends, about herself, and her past. We watched Chicago at her house and she helped me film a video of myself for one of my courses. She’s a sweetheart, but lives a lot in her past.
Note to self: If you wanna defrost chicken fast, sit on it.
(And fart).
October 31 2017 is the first time I used all my stickers to book off an entire 3 hour shift (every sticker is 5 minutes off) at my part time job. And I got paid for every minute of it. I used the time to go trick-or-treating with my friend Alex and my siblings back in town.
I usually save all my stickers for emergencies, like the one I’m sure I’ll have for future shows in my acting program next semester/year.
This is a form of self-care, right?
I live my life in fantasy because I cannot stand the hurt of reality. If I woke up alive somewhere else each time I dream, then never let me wake up.
The Bigger me
is taking care
of the little me
and the little me
is taking care
of the BIG me
I’m absolutely smitten in love with the festivity of CHristmas. So much so that I think I’ve locked myself from feelings its full joy because I’m so scared of being disappointed that it won’t turn out to be what I hope it to be.
I see these idealized family Christmases in movies adn I live my ideal fantasy life through them, much like how sometimes I look at travel blogs to live out places I’ll never go I’ll go one day, or window shopping for things I’ll buy one day.
I just want to be so fucking happy this Christmas that it kills me. I really just…kills me.
I’m thinking of carving out a regular part of my day or week to just sit in nature. I don’t know when, though. Fall is too beautiful, I don’t want to miss a second.
I am drawn to motherly figures. I have a hypothesis why. I’ve never had that mother-daughter connection growing up, despite having a mother. I long for that being taken care or, unconditional, nonjudgmental gaze. A calm groundedness, and sureness, a loving presence, a confident touch. Oh, how I long to be enveloped and encompassed in a loving embrace. Most of my life has been lonely and independent, driven by results and facts and logic–a lot of masculine energy. Any feminine energy was met with dismissal, disapproval, frustration and snubery(is that a word?) I don’t have a close relationship with my parents. I seek out outside validation through achievements, social engagement and developed an addiction. I’m so scared of rejection. I matured faster than my peers since I had to take care of myself. I care deeply for people and my heart is my biggest gift–a gift I will not tolerate being taken for granted.
And yet, it has.
- FOMO sucks! Opt for JOMO. 🙂 Joy Of Missing Out.
- I have rose water but I have no idea what to do with it.
- Where can you buy a fall/winter season pass for a boyfriend?
- <3 FRESH. SNOW. <3
- You don’t need to JUSTIFY treating yourself.
- When in overeating mode, learn to stop away from the plate for just 10 minutes.
- Salads are blessed.
- Gym with Nelvin on Friday or Saturday?????
- ???
- ??
- ?
- Maybe?
Sometimes, I just want out of this body. My soul cannot stand being contained within the boundaries of this skin.
I want to be a faerie.
HELLO. I AM LOW ON SEROTONIN AND DOPAMINE. 😀
October 12th 2017.
October 20th 2017.
Second last performance of “Carried Away” on a Friday night.
Mom missed the doors by a mere 5 minutes.
Right before the show, I started crying because she was going to be late and I just knew it. I told her not to come at all–there’s no point, but she did anyway.
Dean held my hands and told me I was a badass independent motherfucker woman that don’t need nobody. Julia caressed my cheeks. Adrian pressed and pulled my hands (a strategy of weights used to bring you back to a room when you’re spinning out of control). Sabrina showed me her finger pressing technique. A million hugs. And nobody even knew the story behind what I was going through; why I was crying. They just knew that something had happened. Emma told the stage managers to hold off the start of the show by 5 minutes. Leanne told me that this–this care, this embrace is, was, always with, or without my tears, there for me.
Breathe.
I did the show with a heavy heart.
And it was our best. Run. Ever. Plenty of laughs, plenty of life, to my character, Rick, I breathed. I had a blast doing it too! As soon as intermission hit, I exited and saw mom outside the door.
My heart froze and I swore I could have collapsed but my body somehow carried itself towards her.
It almost felt so real and sort of like a blur. I didn’t really know what to say or do. Somehow I managed to give her a hug, and then the tears started.
Mom… She missed it. She missed my one and only scene. She was smiling a sad smile that didn’t quite seem to fit her face. I exchanged a quiet few words with her, clearly upset and distressed on how it would have been better if she just hadn’t shown up at all. Then I wouldn’t feel as terrible on the inside. For her to drive all the way here to stand outside the door… Just missing the doors… Too little, too soon. It made me feel worse inside, like a rotting apple.
I didn’t know whether or not to convince her to stay for the show after intermission, or to go home. I said goodbye on the premise that she’d be leaving and went to the dressing room just as everyone else exited the room for intermission. I headed straight to the bathroom and bawled my eyes out. Julia clocked my desperate pace in the hall, followed me to the stall and held me. Later, Nelvin came to comfort me too.
In my one tiny bathroom stall. The three of us. Crouched together in a corner.
Julia squeezed my hand and said she’d make sure they find a seat for mom. I have never felt so taken care of by everyone in my life even my scene partner, whom I almost never interact with outside of rehearsals came up to me and gave me a fist bump!
I am blessed. People do love me. I felt… cradled at that moment. I felt so grateful, I could just cry all over again.
I think this is one of the rawest, most unedited post I’ve ever shared on my blog, because a lot of these text came directly from my journal. I hope this enlightens you, gets you better acquainted with the kind of person I am, and I don’t know…makes you feel good about yourself?
??
???
MAYBE?
TELL ME A FUN FACT ABOUT YOURSELF!
