Navigating the waters.....

There is a line that the other character says right at the beginning of  the play, "The monster is back." The character is referring to cancer, his personal demon. As rehearsals have intensified, leading into performance and I connect more and more to my character, I hear that line repeating in my head a lot, in reference to my demon.  A teasing voice saying "you fool...you took this part and you proceeded to dabble and play with fire and guess what, loser-- here I am!  The monster is back, what are you going to do now?"

Well, first of all, back off monster!  You are not "back."  I am not suicidal.  I have no intention of jumping off of a bridge or slicing my wrists or  swallowing an entire bottle full of pills.  I am excited by both the present and the future and am committed to staying here. This is a fucking play, not life and you are in no way "back." Yet, I am, and it troubles me to admit this, once again having difficulty facing the day to day.  When I wake in the morning,  generally after a restless night, my body aches, and not from working out too much.  My heart feels heavy and my eyes are teary.  The outside world seems ominous and I want to return to the cocoon of my bedroom. I'm constantly exhausted yet, even after an extremely long day, as soon as I'm in bed with the lights out, I'm wide awake, listening to every groan of the house and feeling the earth shift underneath me. For a person prone to deep depression, this is a very uncomfortable state of being.  The question becomes how to manage it and not let it sabotage the really wonderful things happening in my life.

The play opened this past weekend. It was both exhilarating and exhausting. We had four shows, some of which felt amazing, some felt a little less so, though they all went well.  We are waiting for reviews, hoping that they will be positive.  I also hope that my friends will show up for this show.  I'm navigating the disappointment of my mother not acknowledging opening at all, having not sent even a text. I keep telling myself that it's not a big deal, but of course it is.  What balances out the predictable disappointment there is the surprise of flowers from a friend in San Francisco and the good wishes from my sister and numerous other friends.  I am constantly reminded that I have a deep well of love and support from the family that I have created. 

I was asked, at the one talk-back I did, what the hardest part of the play was.  I answered "keeping Sue separate from me."  It's been really interesting how little of my own life I use onstage.  I don't feel like me. I stand differently and use my voice differently.  I thought, going into this project, that it would be hard keeping us separate on stage, that it would be too revealing. It's not. I don't feel my life on stage at all-I feel hers.  Offstage however, it's a different story. I do feel a bit of her sadness and desperation bleeding into my life.  Her loneliness mirrors mine.  I basically have today, a Monday, off. I am wandering my tiny house, a little lost and afraid.  I'm jumping from project to project, from the piano to making baby ballerina headpieces to writing, to cleaning and back again to the piano....I crave the touch of another person, yet fear that touch more than anything else I can think of.  This yearning for contact, yet abject fear of that same contact is where the two of us meet.  I am using this quiet somewhat rainy day to wander through the fear and let it exist without taking over. I am teaching myself to enjoy the success of being an actress who can touch the darker parts of our souls, both the personal and the collective and NOT be consumed by them.

A Guest Blogger! Actress Carrie Madsen on her styling experience!

I work on occasion, as a stylist.  I love bringing together all of the disparate parts of my experience as a performer, designer and even choreographer to make a picture or create a look for a person. I recently worked with actress, dancer, and newish LA transplant Carrie Madsen on creating a personal and professional look that would help her up her already considerable game!  This was her experience:

I'm a decent looking gal, used to get away with wearing 'whatever' and feeling pretty good about it.  Well, when it came time to up my game, that no longer worked.

In an industry that is based on image, and being a professional that wants to be viewed as such, my need to start appearing as my best-self, and also appropriate to the occasion and location, became apparent.

I tried to do it on my own.  I read magazines.  I looked at how others were dressed.  There were too many options. I struggled and then became frustrated.  I went out a few times in outfits I was horrified I had put together.  The things in my closet became confusing and hateful.  I needed help.

Enter Nancy Dobbs Owen.

She was recommended by a friend.

I was excited but also nervous. 

Could this really help and be the answer or was I just throwing more money at the problem?

Yes, yes and emphatic no!

First we met and talked about how I saw myself.  Hard question for me, that was my whole problem, but when asked who's style I admired - that I could answer: Diane Keaton, Julianne Moore, Julianna Margulies.....  She got my vibe and gave it a name - classic with a twist.  I found Nancy easy to talk to and collaborative - she created an ease and casualness that calmed my anxiety and intimidation.

We next went through my closet and I tried things on.  I couldn't believe how much stuff was really not flattering to me.  Some of it I was relieved to finally let go of, some of it I was surprised to learn was no good.  I trusted her eye and her reasoning and watched the reject pile grow.  We also set some things aside to be professionally altered so the fit was right for me.  Simple, but had I ever thought of it or gotten around to it? No.

As we did this we made a list of what staples I needed not only for specific work occasions but also for my everyday image.  It was the everyday image that actually was causing me the most confusion.  I know I shouldn't walk around in workout gear but knowing how to look hip and casual was a challenge.  She assured me we would fix this.

Our next meeting was to shop.  I was really nervous about this. I can have magical shopping days but more often than not, I find shopping tiring and pretty discouraging.  Also, I think that some of the things I found on my magical days, were things we got rid of, so I wasn't feeling too confident.  She kept telling me it would be fun. I was skeptical.

She was right.  She has the golden touch and a eagle eye.  She can shop discount or high end.  It's finding the finds at a discount that I think is a gift.  We found some really unique and cool stuff that I would never have given a second look to on my own.  I went home with amazing booty!  I was learning as we went along too.  I was starting to understand how I should be dressing myself and what things to put together.  What brands and styles to run away from.  I am relieved to think I will no longer be shopping for things I never wear or that I wear awkwardly and incorrectly.  

The next thing was to make sure I was secure with each of my looks and pieces by charting them. Lastly, she selected finishing touches with statement jewelry and accents.  (She designs amazing jewelry too).

I feel like I really honored myself by doing this and doing it well with Nancy's skills and expertise.  I can now go anywhere and know I look sharp, interesting and appropriate.  This gives me self-assurance that makes me more successful in everything I do.  I would like to believe it doesn't matter how I look but I see how people's confidence in me is raised because I look attractive and creative and like I have my act together.  Isn't that who everyone wants to do business with?   I am also more willing to be seen now. 

In case any of this sounds familiar, I wanted you to have access to what I found to be the answer to my cry for personal style help.  We are gorgeous talented individuals-- so let's look that way darn it!

Cool, right??  I'm looking to do more styling work.  I have worked for photographers, done live shows (a big one for Ford-the car company, not Tom Ford--though that could happen) and runway shows.  My favorite aspect of this business is personal styling, the same thing that Carrie and I did.  Contact me directly if this is something that you'd like to check out.  For a print portfolio, click here.

The Bridge Club

I've just started rehearsals for an amazing beautiful play, Richard Raskind's The Bridge Club. I am excited and scared and thrilled, just like I would be for any new project.  The challenge is huge and invigorating.  The team is wonderful and top notch, the other actors are stellar and it's at Deaf/West Theater, a fantastic venue.  It's both an artistic and career jump, something that is a rare gift here in LA.  With all of that however, I find that I have an extra flutter in my stomach, an additional layer of fear and trepidation.  The subject of this play is suicide and the setting is San Francisco's Golden Gate Bridge. This is personal in a way  I never imagined my art and life combining.  I spent a cold night not that many years ago standing on the top of that very bridge, contemplating the waters below. I eventually made a phone call to my therapist and something in his voice helped me walk away, but it took a long time for the attraction of that long fall to freedom to fade.  I spent many years actively suicidal, destroying myself in various attempts to numb the pain, to escape, and in a twisted way, I'm learning to see, survive.  Now I have this wonderful opportunity to share what that particular hopelessness feels like, in a way that many other actresses might not have access to. It is an honor for sure, yet there is this little remnant of fear...what if in working on this play, what if accessing those feelings of hopelessness and worthlessness and lovelessness brings them back to the forefront of my psyche? I've done so much work on myself and on my place in this world. This is a test, in a way, to see if it holds. After a few rehearsals, I'm confident that it will.

I've questioned the value of writing about this.  I don't want to scare the director or producer! "We didn't hire an actress, we hired a nut case! Crap!!" Not true of, course. I am not my character. We share some characteristics to be sure, but we live in different places, in different times, in fantasy and in reality.  Our circumstances differ: her prospects are bleak and her life is empty, with little hope and no resources. I have friends and family. I have numerous people to call on for support, friendship and care.  Most importantly, I care about other people on a daily basis.  I have started to accept the fact that my existence matters to them.  I have students and responsibilities and dreams that I can finally say that I still believe in and continue to strive towards.  There is value in talking about that journey, traveling to a place of reaching for more.  When you are suicidal, you believe, with your whole being, that there is no one who can understand how much you are twisting inside, how much it hurts to wake up each morning and face the multiple indignities of the day.  In opening up dialogue, in talking about options and in making connections, you realize that there is a possible tomorrow that is not the same as the one you are slogging through today. And in accepting a role in a beautiful play, you get to play out the other side of it, and face the consequences of having done so.  I love this play and am so grateful that the work I have done, with so many wonderful and stubborn people, has finally led me to a place where I can play with those feelings, rather than be consumed by them.

One of the characters in the play is a bridge patrol officer.  Folk singer Meg Hutchinson wrote a beautiful song called "GateKeeper" that honors one such person.  It's so touching. This man starts each conversation with a few simple questions. "How are you feeling?  What are your plans for tomorrow?  Why don't we make some?"  Here is a live version of her performing it. I hope you enjoy it.  And come see the play.  We open April 20 at Deaf/West Theater in North Hollywood and run for 4 weeks.

A friend has a much younger sibling going through hell.  She did the most amazing thing and asked all of her friends to write to him, so that she can give him a letter each morning to help him feel less alone......this is my letter.

Hey __________,
I hear that you are having a really rough time, and I'm going to start this letter by saying that I absolutely know that my words will seem stupid and as if I don't understand. I won't, no matter how hard I try, be able to convey that I know just how shitty you feel.  I totally get it.  I get it because I spent 10 years suicidal.  I tried pills, anorexia, cutting, crashing cars....I wanted out. I get it. It sucks and the worst part is that you can't convey just how much it sucks and how freaking hard it is to get up every morning. People tell you all sorts of inane and stupid things about life being precious and a gift and some will even tell you that it's a sin to reject it.  And you will say silently in your head, bullshit.  I get it.  I wanted out.  Every time that I tried and then found myself awake again, I was pissed.  But you know what? After a while, I realized that it was ok that I woke up each and every time. I'm not going to tell you that life gets better or that people get better.  They do or they don't.  But, YOU, you absolutely get better.  You get stronger and smarter and you eventually find something or someone that makes  your heart beat a little faster and puts a smile on your face, no matter how hard you resist it.  You get better at knowing when a  dark time is taking over and you find help.  You learn that music or dance or books or horses or skiing or hockey or running speaks to you in a way that people can't and you find a way to spend time there, in that place that is kind and loving and feeds your heart.  I still have really dark days.  I still don't believe that life is always a gift or precious.  But I know that I can stop the actions that follow those feelings.  I don't have to do anything because, the feeling, though incredibly strong, and often true, that feeling will pass or change or evolve into something else. And in allowing the darkness to be ok, I've found that I have something to say. I speak as an actress, as a dancer, as a teacher, and as a choreographer and because I've survived the darkness in myself, I have something special that a lot of other people don't have and can't access.  So, I can promise you that even if life continues to be challenging and people continue to suck and treat you badly, you will rise above it and find a place that is yours.  I urge you, beg you, plead with you to reach out instead of going inside yourself and find something to hold onto.  My sister found horses.  I'm a dancer. Find one counselor, one older mentor, someone who can introduce you to a world that  you don't know about and start there. High school kids are mean because they don't know yet how to be kind, but you can find people who do know and you can find them in surprising places. I urge you to find those people and stop looking to the ones that you already know. Once you do that, you'll find that life can be surprising and beautiful and worth sticking around for.
Nancy

perching on the edge of a chair/a life

swallow, hummingbird, dove, wren

light hollow bones
  quick intake of breath
   fluttering heart
    anxious limbs

flitting room to room, branch to branch
a quick hug, don't press too hard

A puff of air
  quicksilver tears
    a nest of down--precarious sleep

soaring, diving, spinning, falling
(yearning, wishing, needing, wanting)

tiny gray bird
  always in flight

I hit the wall today. When I woke up I realized that I was done before the day had started. I wasn't sick, there was nothing wrong, I was just completely done. This has happened before of course. I run myself ragged as a source of pride. I NEVER give in. I feel it, and then go for a 5 mile run followed by a dance class. Today, I gave in. It was a new experience to just be with the exhaustion, the overwhelm and the fatigue of the season. At 12:30 pm, I was still in my pjs, had made a pot of soup for the week, superficially cleaned the house (which is tiny) and had surfed the internet. As the day progressed, I added in a novel and an episode of "Revenge." That is it. I did have several commitments today: parties, theater conferences, people to see. As the day passed, and I realized that even opening the front door was going to be too much, I systematically texted my apologies. Now, what was unique in this slamming up against the wall was my calm acceptance of it. I didn't have a panic attack because of the quiet. I didn't berate myself for the bowl of soup that I ate without a workout to balance it out. I simply let myself feel the exhaustion. It was justified: I taught 30 classes this week, had the most important (and most successful) audition of my life, dealt with numerous student melt downs, bureaucratic shenanigans, and the daily stress of traffic in Los Angeles. That is a lot of energy to put out and, for maybe the first time ever, I allowed the fact that I had put out much more than I had taken in be ok and gave myself a day to recharge. It feels a little like a miracle.

When things start to change.....it's blustery and uncomfortable and amazing and terrifying and exciting and impossible to hold onto. When something amazing happens, I want to grasp that moment, the very moment when it's perfect, but I can't. Moments are just that, fleeting. So I'm learning to take a deep breath and move into the next. I'm in a place of movement and growth and expansion. Expansion is a HARD word for an anorexic girl to embrace. I have spent years and years with these two competing intentions: Please see me. Please don't look--I am invisible. No more. I want to be seen now. I want, more than anything, to be solid and present and real in this world now. I'm shifting each and every day and it's scary and uncomfortable and I keep hitting walls, but I am changing and allowing myself to say all of those verboten phrases: I want. See me. I am here. I am hungry -- for life, for love, for success, and even, every so often, for the simple pleasure of food. And I'm reaching for the stars.

photo by Weiferd Watts