I think I took this picture. I was tired.
This was from the gym this morning.
Yeah. I may be working through some insomnia and anxiety issues.
But aren’t we all.
I was up a goodly amount through the night. Lots brewing. I’m leaving for a New York weekend tomorrow. Which I always love. Except for packing. My choices and suitcase management are always for shit. And they shouldn’t be. To dress for NYC is pretty simple:
- Grab your favorite black clothes. As many as are willing to be coaxed into a carry on bag. Then shove in five more pieces.
I’ll always bring the wrong shoes. Always. And I’ll always forget just the right black piece of whatever.
Awful, I know. To be so unfortunate to spend weekend traveling. And to a place where you couldn’t possibly find a black piece of fabric to drape on a body.
But let’s be real. My problem last night and again at awful pre-dawn hours was not really about the packing. It never is. There’s other nepharious energies afoot. I’m still reeling from the scolding I took on parenting, and I’m trying to address what were legitimate critiques of my choices and just do better. That confronted and put to bed, the art front is the problem child now.
I’ve said no to a few projects lately. Which didn’t feel good. Which felt pretty bleeding crumby. Not that you should say yes to every job that’s presented. That’s how you wind up playing basketball with a reaaallly creepy dude while ad lobbing lines about Larry Bird while shooting on a cement court in the rain.
Trust me. Not as fun as it sounds.
I hate letting chances go. Of looking two months ahead and missing something that could have been but never was.
Students of cognitive-behavioral (wait, what? Who?…Me?) will see this as a symptom of anxiety. Of a person not being able to put a pin in the time-space continuum. Of ruminating wildly and therefore spazzing wildly about what might be hiding behind the curtain. We lose what’s now and what might be. And this is why we light incense and mindfully meditate, kids.
Yeah. As I’ve shown this week, I ain’t very good at pinning. I’m more of a “holy freaking shit but what if??!??!” kinda girl. True in packing and acting.
After letting a producer dangle for longer than it was polite, I let another job go today. On top of the one I turned down just before that. Both good projects. One was fantastical. One was a classic canon piece. Would have loved to have been part of each one. But, stepping backs from both was the right choice. I can breath for the next two months, and not punch myself nightly for what I’m not doing at home while I’m in a rehearsal room. Not an easy choice. Maybe it should be, if I was a stronger mom or artist. Maybe not.
But, the gods of light and apertures gave me a little something. The audition from the room that felt really good?
Call back, bitches.
That’s probably not the right tone here but I went for it.
So, I need to get cracking because I’d really like to put in a good showing on this one. Looking at the schedule, there’s not many days ahead to let my brain spin properly out of control. And I want to make sure I build up a nice, full head of anxiety-riddled propulsion to tide me over until then. Wait, what was that I mumbled about mindful something and breathing. Yes. Breathing. Heavy breathing. Running. Wonder if the gym is open…
Because today, right now, all the gods damn it, I’m putting a pin in it.
And because tomorrow, I’ll be in New York City.
Just me and 9th street.