feast

A lot of actors will tell you, this industry is feast or famine. 

Some seasons, you’re booked back to back. Some seasons, it’s crickets. 

Having worked in this industry for a couple of years (through COVID, and through the WGA & SAG strikes), I’ve had my share of lulls. 

But recently, it’s been all feast. 

In the last three weeks, I’ve acted on two commercial shoots & one theatrical shoot, finished pre-production & production on the Lavender Fields Forever proof-of-concept short film, and debuted my writing and acting in the Everything Is Fine universe at the Barking Legs Theater.

When I’m in feast mode, it’s easy to skip over the practices that help me slow down and breathe, so I thought I’d sit and write some reflections prompted by some of my most recent projects. 

re: commercial work

I love a good commercial shoot. They’re a lot of actors’ bread and butter, and I am no exception. 

I find that commercial sets tend to be a ton of fun — short shoots with big ideas & strong aesthetics, and lots of room for being silly // ridiculous // extra. There’s a lot less pressure for a lot of reasons, but the pay is generally pretty good. All those factors swirl together and make for some really enjoyable set days. 

Plus, this time around, I got to work with the same company twice within a month — a company full of brilliant creatives who more than pass the vibe check. Plus plus, I got to reunite with an old buddy of mine from high school who happened to book the same job, even though he lives all the way in Chicago now! Sometimes, the world is small in the best way. 

re: theatrical work

I signed a pretty hefty NDA on this one, so I really can’t say much. What I will say is that this was the first time I’d acted on a theatrical project that I had already watched and liked, and, honestly, it felt a little intimidating.

What if I ruin it? What if I’m not actually good enough to be here? To work at this level?

It felt like I’d been a medium to big fish in a little pond, and suddenly I was krill in the ocean. 

It wasn’t a comfortable feeling, but I think it’s something I had to feel. There are a lot more steps before I can get to where I’d like to be, and a lot more opportunities between me and what I think I’m really meant for. 

When the opportunity comes, I better be ready. 

I felt my feelings, processed them, and moved right along to the next job.

re: Lavender Fields Forever 

Wow. What an incredible experience to be able to receive a friend’s script, written with wit & heart, and to be able to be a part of the process of bringing it to life on screen. 

This was my very first set experience behind the camera rather than in front of it, and I'm ever grateful that it was with a/b studios. As an actor, a non-trivial part of the job is acting like the jungle of equipment & dozens of crew members aren’t there, and it’s just your character with whatever characters they’re with at the time. But the crew is so there, and they are incredible. Both the breadth of potential problems that need to be addressed in planning during pre-production and the attention to detail required by every single person besides talent on set, are absolutely mind-boggling. 

Hats I wore: 

Assistant to the Director — It’s giving Dwight Schrute, Assistant to the Manager. First off, a shoutout. Our director Amelia Bartlett was a natural. Yes, I am absolutely biased because she's one of my dearest friends. But also, I’m not wrong. I’ve been on a lot of sets. Hers was one of the most collaborative I have ever seen, and she made so much space for people to be creative & play and was adamant on bringing the best out of everyone on that set. Since she was doing all that (and a damn good job of it), I wanted to make sure she was also doing so in a sustainable way. Cue small breaks when we could take them, some fresh air, the occasional verbal processing, another sip of water — anything we needed. 10/10 would do again, especially for Amelia.

Producer — This is a pretty amorphous term. Sometimes producers earn their title through financial contributions; sometimes they earn them through actively participating in whatever tasks are necessary to make the director’s vision a reality. In my case, I definitely fell in the latter category. Being involved in the planning process, and in outreach and organization, allowed me to use muscles I hadn’t really exercised since my days of being a school teacher. It wasn’t my favorite hat, but I’d certainly do it again, especially for a project I believed in. 

Script Supervisor — Our set’s actual script supervisor had to leave early on one of our shooting days, so she’d trained me to take over for her so the role wouldn’t be left empty. After all, continuity in film is super important, so inconsistencies don’t distract audiences and ultimately detract from the work. Y’all. As soon as she left and I was the one watching for inconsistencies, I swear I got a tummy ache. It was immediate. And it lasted the entire time I had that hat on. I was so nervous. Every frame in a film is like a painting, and my eyes & brain were overloading trying to take in and reconcile every detail between the script & the takes, and between the takes themselves. May I never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever have to do scripty again, please & thank you. 

re: the Everything Is Fine debut

Whew. If I’m being honest, I felt like I had all but run out of steam when it came to this performance at the Barking Legs Theater. I will be forever grateful that the one and only Kate Szekely was able to do all of the things I had no experience doing: theater blocking, running tech rehearsals, stage managing, directing. She is a force, and I will follow her anywhere. 

Because Kate took over so much of the technical work and was such a grounding leader for the cast, I was able to dip my toe into acting waters after being knee-deep in coordination tasks. 

As an actor, I felt so many emotions.

Terror. Fun fact: ya girl has never done theater. I did speech and debate in high school, but my professional acting career has solely been for screen. And to be clear, it wasn’t performing in front of people that was terrifying. It was that I only got one shot. If I flub a take or two on set, it’s not great, but it’s okay. It’s built into the schedule that we’ll need multiple takes, to adjust everything from lighting to props to sound to blocking to actual delivery & performance. Not with theater. You get one shot, and that’s it. Mad respect to anyone out here doing theater and enjoying it. I needed Pepto Bismol after.

Awe. Speaking of people doing theater and enjoying it, wow, my castmates are talented. The vast majority of the cast have done theater in addition to screen work, and their stage presence was exactly what it needed to be in any given moment. Their characters really read well to the audience — so much so that folks reached out to me specifically to tell me as such in the days following. I’m surrounded by talented artists. And I really hope the world will get to see them do their thing someday soon. 

Anxiety… and assurance. At my least regulated, I can put a lot of undue pressure on myself. And I’ll add that having grown up suppressing all emotions besides happiness, I've never felt confident in my acting chops when it comes to drama. I thought (too late), Huh, maybe I should have rehearsed more for this. But hearing what I’d written from a place of vulnerability made me feel vulnerable in the moment — a moment I’ve come to be really proud of, because it was the moment I thought, Huh, maybe I have the depth to do this character justice after all. 

Gratitude. Folks traveled in from all over for this showcase — I’m talking crossing-state-lines kind of travel. And I’ve had some folks reach out to say that they couldn’t come in person, but they’d love to watch the recording when it’s ready. The process of getting this series made & distributed is daunting, but every bit of support and interest along the way makes a huge difference, so thank you all for your help! 

re: feasting… for three weeks straight

I’m really grateful to be working. 

My anxious & perfectionist tendencies like to tell me, If you’re not busy, you’re doing something wrong. If you stop swimming, you die. 

But the healthiest & happiest parts of me know that I need rest. As a person, I need it to function. As a friend & partner & relative, I need it to have space for my loved ones and to feel emotionally whole. And as an artist, I need it to do my best work. Being an artist is mostly about being present, and I simply can’t do that as well when I’m exhausted or spread too thin. 

In the midst of a busy season, I am thankful for the privilege that is making beautiful // creative // heartwarming // silly things with equally beautiful // creative // heartwarming // silly people. And with just as much gratitude, I look forward to a break from feasting — to resting & reconnecting.