Sunday, November 13, 2016

Letter to a Young Actor

Hey Ross,

Really great speaking with you today my friend. Always good catching up. I just wanted to reiterate how important I think it is to enjoy the moment you're in. Of course, it's always important to do as much, but looking back when I was your age just a few years removed from grad school, I now realize what a remarkable time it was despite what seemed at the time to be insurmountable odds.

When I first graduated from Columbia University almost 7 years ago now, I had the great fortune of being courted by top agents like Abrams and William Morris. I was being called in by all the big casting directors and auditioning for major roles on TV and some interesting pilots. It was an exciting time. 

I was also going through a great deal of personal challenges. I had just left a program that I was in love with and ended a relationship with a girl I loved even more. It took me a long time to get my footing. Still, I kept busy and often didn't even have time to consider the whirlwind I was on.

Despite often carrying a heavy heart and an equally burdensome sense of self-doubt, I forced myself to interact with the world. I stayed as productive as I could trying new things, meeting new folks, and stretching myself. I wrote even if poorly. I got involved with tiny theater companies even if I wouldn't want to be caught dead on some of the stages. I read incessantly about everything from acting to science, to politics, to history. It was a very introspective time and when I look back on it, an incredibly important turning point in my own personal development.

I started to make new friends and move away from some of the ones I had maybe used as a crutch in graduate school. I picked myself up and began dating again, sometimes with people I had nothing in common with but still felt it important. I was hungry for exploration in every conceivable corner of New York, the world, and even my mind; wherever and whenever I could find it responsibly was what motivated me.  

Soon, it became far less about acting then it did about living fully, honestly, openly, and inquisitively. It became about asking more questions of the world and subsequently myself, while being okay with not getting the answer I wanted to hear or often any at all.

When I look back on that time I cannot help but smile. It was a remarkable time. It was profoundly painful, confusing, funny, joyous, difficult, victorious, frustrating, beautiful, sad, and dare I say glorious. Half the time I didn't even know what I was doing even when I was convinced that I did. 

My point is the world is unpredictable and often particularly fragile to the temperament of an artist. We take things more personally, we refuse to wear our heart anywhere but on our sleeves, and we want for whatever crazy reason to share our lives on stage, in front of the camera, and through our voices. None of this is normal. 

But what is normal and universal is the human condition. Nurture it with as many valuable experiences as possible. Don't be afraid to fail big because you will. Don't be afraid to have your heart broken because you will. Don't be afraid to feel like nothing you're doing is working because it often won't. Don't be afraid to not know. In fact, embrace it. I once heard it said, "Knowing everything is the enemy of the human spirit." And to completely contradict all of that advice, don't be afraid to be afraid.

I encourage you to challenge yourself as an actor, but far more importantly in ways that will slowly inch you towards the man you dream of becoming despite it being impossible. It is the pursuit of that goal which is the entire point. Put yourself out there as much as possible. I think the greatest tragedy would be to look back and not say, "I wish I became a movie star, or a Broadway star, or even famous." No, I think the greatest tragedy would actually be looking back and saying, "Damn, I wish I enjoyed all of that a little more. I wish I had more fun."   

In the words of Robert DeNiro, one of my heroes, "Be brave, but not reckless." Be young, be free, be life. I believe in you brother and wish you great luck now and beyond.

Best,


Nick

Excerpt from the book, To the Prospective Artist: Lessons from an Unknown Actor 

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