You Can Want Something Without Needing It

Years ago during pilot season I auditioned for a role for what seemed like a promising little series. The storyline didn't exactly grab me but I thought it'd be fun and so I prepared carefully like I always do. I hopped on a train headed for the Court Street-Borough Hall station before making my way up to the 3rd floor for the audition.

The room was sparse and the casting director looked exhausted. I could tell he'd been trying to cast the show for quite some time. He made a quip or two about the script before filming the scene. "Nice job," he said afterwards. I left and forgot about the whole thing.

A few days later I received a callback. Really? I thought. Though I'd put my best foot forward I'd convinced myself I was totally wrong for the part, which actually liberated me. I was free to make bold choices, there was an ease to my performance, and because I was sure the part would go to someone else I was incredibly relaxed. I should mention I also had fun.

I returned a few days later but this time the stakes felt raised. I felt closer. Still, I tried to remember the approach that got me here in the first place. It wasn't ambivalence, but the ability to want something without needing it. Once again I was loose, free, and able to have fun with the part. A few weeks later I booked the role.

Not surprisingly, I've booked several other roles when I was able to audition like I didn't need it. I absolutely wanted the parts, but I knew my life would go on if I didn't get cast. 

As both an actor and a casting reader I learned those are very attractive qualities to have as an artist, and they're only cultivated through living a rich life "off-stage." 

When you have other interests, relationships, and goals to look forward to you have a unique sense of perspective that will undoubtedly serve your artistry.

Follow Those Ahead, Lead Those Behind

Yesterday was sort of an impromptu "Mentor Day." First, I met with a teacher that had a very important influence on my life when I first got out of graduate school. Over the years we've remained close even catching a Brooklyn Cyclones game a few summers ago. He'd check in from time to time to see how I was doing and ask if he could help in any of my pursuits.

Later that day, I went to see the performance of a young man who was just 18 when we first me at The Flea, an off-off Broadway theater company in Tribeca. 

(The show by the way is, The Skin of Our Teeth currently playing at Theatre for a New Audience in Brooklyn. Check it out if you get the chance!)

http://www.tfana.org/1617season/skin-teeth/tickets

After the performance I waited for him in the lobby and he asked if I had time for a quick drink. 

His manager was waiting for him as well and he promptly introduced me as his "mentor." I have to say it meant a great deal.

As we sat at a trendy bar adjacent to the theater peering out the window he told me how he was now the "older guy" in the play. There were actors even younger than him that had sought his advice during the play's run on more than one occasion. "It's really weird that I'm the guy helping other people now," he admitted. "I'm sure you're great," I told him.

As I left my mentor on the corner of 115th and Columbia he thanked me for an email I'd written him earlier in the week. "I'm not sure I deserved all of that," he said. I credited him for his mentorship and how it played a significant role in me finally publishing my book, speaking at TEDx, and even shaping the man I've slowly become.

Similarly, I felt I didn't deserve the acknowledgement when my friend gave me credit for much of his success.

But that night when I headed towards the 3 train back to Manhattan I realized someone will always know something you don't offering an opportunity for growth and learning. What is important is to pass on what you've learned.

Seek and follow the wisdom of those ahead and lead those behind you leaving bits and pieces of the insights you've gained.

Abundant Creativity

One of the many incredible parts about living in New York is the abundance of wildly different ways creative expression is shared all around you. From the New York Philharmonic to the Brooklyn Museum to art shows in makeshift galleries, there are stories being told constantly in countless mediums.

It wasn't until I arrived in New York and began studying theater that I realized ideas cross-pollinate and cross-inspire. Looking at the detail of an Edward Hopper painting at the Museum of Modern Art made me approach dialogue in a Pinter play with a new sense of heightened awareness.

Observing the amount of energy and commitment it takes for a dance company to bring a recital to life at Alvin Ailey, nudged me to dig my heels in a little deeper with the likes of Shakespeare and Brecht.

And listening to the nuances and rhythms of a blues band one evening on MacDougal Street taught me we practice tirelessly to gain freedom within a structured environment.

Seek inspiration whenever and wherever possible. It may influence your own craft in delightfully unforeseen ways.