Sand and the City

It seems like this city does everything in its power to make it hard to survive here. And it works overtime to make it even harder to be happy. There's a condition that develops in pretty much every citizen at some point called "inner city depression". It's the sharp realization that pursuing your dream may not cover your rent, that not a single face on the street is familiar or friendly, that those unfamiliar faces don't care who you are or what you are doing or if they never see you again. It's calling home and hearing the voices of the people you care most about, and knowing that's the closest you'll get to being with those people for several months. It's when the magic disappears and you feel like you're being swallowed up by the sheer size of this city. It's any number of things. And I think it's been trying to sneak up on me.

On Wednesday, my friend Nicole invited me to Far Rockaway Beach. It took 4 train transfers to get there and I got lost a few times, but I finally made it. We spent 3 1/2 glorious hours riding waves and dodging jellyfish. When we got out of the water, I sat and just stared out at the ocean. LeeAnn Womack sings that song "I Hope You Dance", and as cheesy as it is, one of the lyrics is "I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean". And I do. But more importantly, I realized...so must New York City. Not even the Big Apple can be bigger than the ocean. They can stack their buildings high enough to hide the stars, but when all is said and done, New York City is just...a city. Just as the surfer heads to the beach with the biggest waves, the actor heads to the city with the most opportunity to audition. I hadn't been able to audition because I was getting things situated here. And now that I'm basically situated, I've been avoiding auditioning because I've felt intimidated and somehow unprepared. I felt the same way about moving to the city until one of my professors told me, "Lindsey, you will never feel ready for that city. You just have to go. Trust me, you're ready." How easy it is to get wrapped up in the idea of New York, in the reputation it has so carefully constructed to market itself to the world. This will by no means be easy, but I'm tired of being intimidated by this place.

I'm reading a book by David Mamet in which he makes a great point. He says, "Alice, when in Wonderland, asked the caterpillar which road she should take, and the caterpillar responded by asking her where she wanted to end up. That's a question you might want to ask yourself. If you want to be in the theatre, go into the theatre. If you want to have made a valiant effort to go into the theatre before you go into real estate or law school or marry wealth, then perhaps you should stay in school." Mamet later speaks on having a fall back plan, like I wrote about in an earlier post. He has this to say, "I was once at a marriage ceremony where the parties swore to 'try to be faithful, to try to be considerate...'the marriage was, of course, doomed. Any worthwhile goal is difficult to accomplish. To say of it 'I'll try' is to excuse oneself in advance. Those who respond to our requests with 'I'll try' intend to deny us, and call on us to join in the hypocrisy--as if there were some merit in intending anything other than accomplishment." I've been holding out on a dream because I didn't feel ready. But I'm going to take my professor's advice and just go. I didn't come here to get a pat on the back or a cookie for giving it a good try. Although I will still take the cookie :)