What Are You Waiting For???
Pilot season is coming! Pilot season is coming!
Are you ready? Well you need to get ready! Yes, your acting needs to be infallible, but so does your psyche. Your mental game is just as important as your acting game and pilot season is usually a time of frustration, fatigue and rejection. You need to know how to come out on top without leaving your morale at the bottom.
“How can I do it,” you say? With the help of a life coach, that’s how. “How will I find one,” you say? Click here and call Genie Kahn, that’s how. Genie Kahn is not only a genius life coach, but she also spent many years in the business and knows all too well what we go through. She also understands that many of us are not only “artists,” but “STARVING artists” and offers the best rates in town.
So what exactly are you waiting for? Call her!
No, seriously. CALL HER.
*Editor’s note: I would like to say that neither Lesly nor Genie asked me to write this. I am writing this because I believe in the power of good mental health and it’s necessity as an actor. The last year and a half I have spent with Genie has been the most transformational time of my life, and without her I would not be firing on all cylinders. The Kahn sisters are the best decisions I’ve ever made.
Just Dance
I admit with no shame that I love Dancing With the Stars. I was watching an episode and they had a new thing called “Instant Dance” that they have never done before on the show. The contestants are given a type of dance (Tango, Jive, etc.) and work on the routine all week, but they aren’t given the song until the night of the show after they perform their first dance, so they only have about 30 minutes to work the routine with the music. Everyone thought it would be a disaster, but something really fascinating happened… everyone did the best they’ve ever done and got the highest scores they’ve ever gotten!
Kurt Warner’s note was that he finally found musicality and hit the beats of the song for the first time. But how is that possible, he had never heard the song before? Could it be because he was listening??? One judge said that he had been using the song as a safety net for counting the steps rather than hearing the music and responding to it organically. I feel like that’s what we do with our scripts. We focus on memorizing and being off book so that we can know which line we need to hit a certain beat on, rather than listening and responding to whatever just happened. We memorize our beats just as much as we memorize our words, which doesn’t leave any room for surprise or musicality.
The other magical ingredient that night was that the entire cast went into the show with the expectation that they were going to suck and felt at peace with it, because if they did suck they would have a valid excuse as to why. They worked on their dance all week, they found the nuances of the genre, and then they went in on Monday night and said “FUCK IT!” and just listened and had fun. They let go to all of the technicals and made room for dance.
Mark Ballas said that this is all they ever do in professional competitions. They know the genre and they choreograph a dance, but they don’t know the song until they step out on the dance floor. For a pro, there is no such thing as a cold read. Actors and dancers alike don’t need to know the song or the words on the page, they just need to know the genre and be so comfortable with their skill that no song or lines can throw them off. All they have to do is go out there and dance.
Alison Turner – Blog Editor Extraordinaire
True Artistry
I looked out my window the other day and I saw a graffiti artist painting a mural on the building across the street. I became completely captivated and hoped he didn’t look over and notice me staring at him for an uncomfortably long period of time. He started with a plain wall, and little by little he would start to spray shapes. He was using very large, broad strokes at first, and they gradually became smaller and more detailed. He started mixing the colors of the lettering, adding a purple base with pink accents and using black and white to outline the words. He would step back, look at the piece as a whole, and then would go back in and carefully add more pink or more purple or more highlight as he felt the piece needed. The part that was so interesting to me was how he knew when to add what. My artistic ability is pretty limited, so if I looked at that piece and felt something wasn’t quite right it wouldn’t occur to me that it needed 3 more strokes of purple and another pass of white, but the artist sees what’s missing and adjusts accordingly. That’s why he’s an artist. If they just wanted some schmoe to come in and make a mess on their wall they would have called me.
As an actor, it is your job to understand the script you are given and execute it beautifully. That is your art. You have to see the script for what it is and what you need to do to bring it to life. Just like the graffiti artist that stands back and sees the missing holes in the artwork and knows what it needs, you need to see the script as a whole piece with an understanding of how to fulfill the moments that tell the story that was written. Sometimes we think our art is to interpret the script in an interesting way, showcase our ability to access emotions and look natural while doing it. That is like someone telling the graffiti artist they want their company logo and him drawing an abstract self-portrait. Do you think that artist would get hired if that were what he brought in to show the client as a markup?
Artistic expression has its place. If you want to show your range and wow the world with how clever you are, write your own material. Otherwise, know your job and know what a piece needs in order to be executed beautifully. That is being a true artist.
Alison Turner – Blog Editor Extraordinaire
It’s Biology, People!
I was listening to NPR the other morning and there was an audiologist on who was explaining why humans have visceral reactions to sound and why some sounds are innately soothing and lovely and why some are grating and unpleasant. They figured out that sound waves are transmitted to the brain in beat-like patterns that are either consistent or irregular and they even had a recording of what the waves sound like as they enter the brain. When the listener would hear a chord that was a perfect 5th, the brain waves were consistent and evenly timed. When they would hear a chord that was not symmetrical, like a minor 2nd, the pattern that was transmitted was inconsistent and choppy. There was a ballet in 1913 called “The Rite of Spring” composed by Igor Stravinsky that actually caused a riot at it’s premiere because the dissonant and asymmetrical chords and rhythms were so unsettling to the audience it provoked anger and violence.
I think I found this interview so fascinating because it made me think of comedic patterns and timing that are just inexplicably right or wrong. Every month in intensive we spend so much time studying the text and identifying 3′s and reversals and builds and all the good stuff that, if executed correctly, make us laugh. But I don’t even think the Kahn herself can explain why. I cannot count how times I have seen “Jack! Jack?” done, but when someone hits a solid, clean reversal, I chuckle every time. Why? I KNOW what’s coming! I KNOW exactly what you are about to say!
Occasionally we get some feisty ones that will say “Casting directors don’t know about 3′s and reversals and they aren’t going to not book me because I didn’t hit the technicals!” Perhaps they don’t know what to call it, but they know when something is amiss. If I played a C chord and added a note that didn’t belong, even someone who knows nothing about musical theory would cringe and know it was wrong. It’s biology, people! You can’t argue with biology. You really can’t argue with Lesly either, so why bother trying?
Alison Turner – Blog Editor Extraordinaire
Athletes Are Made in the Off-Season
During the Olympics, I was watching a segment about the US women’s hockey team. They were following the team through their workouts and training and the NBC correspondent was going through the workout with them just to get an idea of what it is like. Needless to say, she was in a sweaty, broken heap on the floor by the time they were done. Afterwards, she was interviewing the team coach and she was saying how it’s amazing how much these girls go through, just in their training and preparation. The coach said, “Well, athletes are made in the off-season.”
How could these hockey players possibly be ready for the game and have the stamina to get them through all three periods if they weren’t amazingly conditioned and prepared before they step on the ice? To think that improvement happens on game day is a little ass backwards. Practice and conditioning make the skating and puck-handling and team formations second nature so that when it’s game time, they can be in the moment and be completely aware of what is happening right then and there, rather than trying to remember what position they are supposed to be in or trying really hard to skate backwards. There are so many other things that factor in to winning or losing a game, the skills required to play hockey should not be one of them.
For those of us masochistic fools who have chosen to be actors in Los Angeles, this is our off-season. Pilot season is over, the dust has settled, and people are starting to become recognizable human beings again. Especially Lesly. But what baffles me is how many actors simply stop studying in the summer. It’s the off-season! Now is the time to become the buff, well-conditioned acting machines that we need to be come pilot season next year. Spend this time while your schedule isn’t a stroke-inducing nightmare to rehearse every day and hold so many scripts in your hands that the secrets of the text pop out at you as if in bold. As Lesly always says “Your acting cannot be the problem in your acting career.”
What better time to hone your skills than in the off-season?
Alison Turner – blog editor extraordinaire
Fuck Fearing The Fog
Fog can be absolutely horrifying- it’s cold and you can’t see or make out what’s what, so you find yourself imagining the most dangerous of things lurking about and surrounding you. BUT, fog will inevitably begin to clear, revealing that what made it so frightening was nothing but the road you lost sight of- the path between where you stand and where you began and the countless steps along its way. In finding your way out and back home you will have come full circle, and the bigger that circle – its size measurable only by how long it took to complete – the bigger the celebration of its creation will be. So try not being too horrified by how dense the fog is or how long you’ve been horribly lost in it- your particular circle just might happen to be a massive undertaking in architecture requiring massive amounts of construction and massive amounts of wallboard covered in ‘pardon our dust’ signs to keep you from sneaking a premature peek. (That’ll be some celebration!) Party on, people. - Scott Borden, Editor / renowned expert in foggy existence
What The Fuck Is “The Mind?!” Or “Art?!” Perhaps They Are Each Other?
Seems as though my New Year’s resolution of becoming the sole individual in the history of mankind to solve the puzzle that is the mind is becoming a success along the lines of “Waterworld.”
I haven’t the slightest of clues where this came from or why, but it’s acting as an overly generous sperm donor for my irresponsible slut of a brain and I don’t know what to do with the litters of thoughts born as a result!!! (I suppose I could just continue putting them up for adoption on the web…)
So I was sitting here, eating my Frosted Mini Wheats, and I stopped mid-chomp and thought, “Crazy that Van Gogh sold only one painting…” I then resumed chomping my Mini’s.
I don’t know shit about shit, let alone Post-Impressionist PAINTERS, so I’m wondering: (a) HUH? (b) Do I know one fucking thing about Van Gogh? (c) Is that how you SPELL Van Gogh? (d) Is this statement about Van Gogh even TRUE?? (e) WHERE and WHY did ANY of this pop into my head?, and (f) DID IT HAVE TO DO SO WHILE I WAS CHOMPING MY MINI’S???
(15 minutes of nail-biting in silence later…)
I have confirmed via the wide wide world of web that painter Vincent Van Gogh did, in fact, sell just a single painting in his lifetime. Even though today his name is synonymous with the word ‘art’ and his work is regarded as some of history’s greatest and most valuable, selling today for tens of millions of dollars apiece, while he was actually alive and living as a painter, Vincent Van Gogh sold only one painting. Painted THOUSANDS of ‘em. But only one sold. For about $350 US.
How fuckin’ trippy is that to you and on how many different levels???
I’d go on and on about fame and if it’s real and how many achievements does it take to “make it” and how many it takes before that TO “make it” and if Van Gogh was a great artist before he was “Van Gogh” and if so why did no one notice or appreciate him and his art before he died and if he knew that he was a great artist and if so why did he choose to stop letting himself be that great artist by committing suicide and what IS a great artist and can an artist be great if no one knows about their greatness, but I’ll refrain: it’s all too much like that “if a tree falls in the woods…” question – we’ll never know, so don’t dwell on it – and I’m trying to start serving myself up in smaller, more highly concentrated dosages. After this one, that is.
Van Gogh sold only one painting.
Dissect that sentence and think about it.
Like sticking a fork of beauty in a tragic wall socket, is it not?
Still no word on where any of this came from…
- Scott Borden, Editor
Sometimes The Fast Lane Is Disguised As The Slow Lane
Discuss traffic? I’d LOVE to! Historically, and without fail, I hit EVERY SINGLE red light. NO greens. I’ll maybe make that one yellow up ahead if that Waste Management truck opts to NOT cut in front of me without signaling, but, alas, it does. And why WOULDN’T three out of the four lanes be littered with orange cones and hard hat-wearing henchmen of the Devil?! That’d just be the juiciest available cherry to top off today’s commute!
Punish me, I lied- the gas light that chose RIGHT NOW to come on as opposed to waiting for me to escape this labyrinth of bad luck expertly designed to dissolve the few remaining granules of my patience with this life is a slightly juicier cherry than the aforementioned group of life- ruiners (or as they are more popularly known, “CalTrans”). THEN, for SOME reason tucked away with the JFK files that will never be known, I decide to be charitable and donate the opening in front of me to the (seemingly) nice lady in the Prius pulling out of Winchell’s Donuts. That initial “thank you wave” of hers is quite sufficient, but she then feels it necessary to show me her “paint being watched” impression: 85 minutes of slow-motion driving with her blinker on and no hints as to whether or not she’s going to actually merge (dead on, by the way, it was TOTALLY like watching paint dry)! I should’ve known she was a moron; who the hell else would make Winchell’s their donut provider of choice??
I’M REALLY LATE NOW! So I drive around her JUST as she turns OFF her blinker JUST as she begins running me off the GODDAMN ROAD during her uncanny “Rebel Without a Cause” impression. SEE?! EVERYTHING’S a conspiracy! EVERYTHING’S making me late! EVERYTHING’S trying to get me fired! EVERYTHING’S to blame and I can’t deal! So TODAY, like every other day, I was understandably dreading my departure and guess what? I wasn’t on time today- big surprise! I was actually… early. And my face wasn’t red. And I didn’t use my co-workers as IMAX screens upon which to project my rage. Why?? There was no traffic today! None! It was so quick and easy getting there because there was NO traffic today!
Okay, I lied again. This is LA, folks- there will never be “no traffic.” EVER!!! Billions and BILLIONS of cars SWALLOW YOU WHOLE! There’s construction EVERYWHERE, morons and life-ruiners that speed and cut off and run reds and don’t signal EVERYWHERE, accidents EVERYWHERE! And we’re just entombed in the center of all this fucking CHAOS and it BLOWS, but the truth is– we don’t have much choice.
Was there really no traffic today? Were there really no old ladies clogging the roads? No construction? NOPE. All there. It was ALL fuckin’ there but I just didn’t notice any of it cuz I left 20 minutes earlier than usual! Which is always 20 minutes late, come to think of it… Which means I know exactly when I need to leave if I want to avoid this shit but for some fucking reason I make the choice not to, come to THINK OF IT… See- even with ALLLL the bullshit polluting the air above this sentence, every single car, truck, RV, motorcycle, and horse-drawn-carriage on those FUCKING freeways and streets GETS TO WHERE THEY ARE GOING. Every. Single. One. There’s a helluva lot of brake lights and merging and fender-benders and tailgating and occasional vehicular manslaughter along the way, but those billions of commuters each concoct their own recipe of shortcuts and arguably-legal driving maneuvers to burrow their way through it all and get to where they’re going. It’s kinda awesome. Now that won’t stop the majority of ‘em from demanding the Universe to answer preposterous questions like, “WHY ME? WHY DIDN’T THAT FUCKING CAR JUST GO? IS THAT STUPID STRAY DOG GONNA SUE?” once they reach their destination, but some will arrive in astonished wonder asking, “I’m already here?!? Really?!? Already??!” Which is how we ALL should.
You will absolutely get stuck in fucking traffic so give yourself some fucking time and something else to fucking think about. Most commuters sit in their cars predicting how late they’re gonna be and regretting that they overslept and assuming that that spork in the gutter will pop their front right tire and cause a grisly accident of catastrophic proportions which is gonna make them even LATER! They’re crouched forward, shoulders slumped, hands on 11:55 and 12:05, making choppy, quick cuts in left-to-right spurts. But some? Some are just simply on their way to work, leaned back, relaxed, one hand on 12 NOON and one hand clutching a breakfast item of your choosing, all while enjoying the private, VIP karaoke party you and your mix tape are throwing. Which is how we ALL should! Try replacing the “TRAFFIC and MORONS and SPORKS, OH MY! (FUCKING GOD!!!)!” thoughts with “BOOGIE NIGHTS! Ain’t no doubt, we are here to PARTAY!” – you’ll find yourself just seeping into those tons of traffic and soaking your way through until you drip out the other end in NO time.
YOU ARE GOING TO ARRIVE – there’s just lots and LOTS of traffic. So let’s do ourselves a favor by being realistic and prepared when we venture out there, ‘k? That way we won’t find ourselves turning every pebble along the way into a speed bump (or if you’re me, a road block). Everything out there will do just fine getting in your way without your help!
(Hey… this traffic rant almost sounds like an acting rant, don’t it? Reeks of coincidence, if you ask me…)
- Scott Borden, Editor
“What About Talent?” by Bob Fraser – Actors Ink, August 19, 2009
Why is there no known cure for the “common cold”?? It’s been REALLY fucking common for a REALLY long fucking time! Everyone catches it. Everyone has their superstitions, their old wives’ tales, and their cocktails of vitamins, juices, and over-the-counter goodies- all of which can be legitimately argued as “proven effective” by various parties. ALL of us have our secret regiment that’ll “beat” it, right? So why is the “common cold” still at the back of the line waiting to be cured when countless newer, younger illnesses infect their way to the FRONT? Hussies…
My guess is that the “common cold” is just far more unique than most illnesses due to the very fact that it IS just that- SO COMMON. We inject and ingest and digest and eat and drink and pill-pop SO many fucking things to combat it that the “common cold” has become immune to BILLIONS of combinations of what we all come up with! The symptoms, the duration, the basics? Pretty much the same across the board. The REST? That we DON’T know or see? Total mystery. Case by case. There is NO KNOWN CURE for the “common cold” and yet we all get through it somehow using our own personalized methods, since there is no official answer to how ALL of us can do so. It’s almost like the “common cold” is the “X-factor” of household illnesses…CLICK HERE NOW! It’ll cure what ails ya’.
- Scott Borden, Editor
And now, to bridge the gap between viruses and ACTING (WTF?!), please welcome the excerpts below from the Actors Ink article, “What About Talent?” by Bob Fraser. Wanna read it in FULL?
“The reason I never address the question of whether someone is cut out for the business of acting is because I have learned through long, hard, experience that although I can spot talent with the best of them, I don’t know who is and who isn’t – going to succeed. I don’t believe that anyone can say for sure. There are just too many variables that go into a successful acting career. As William Goldman so aptly put it, ‘Nobody knows.’ ”
“Telling [an] actor that it’s all about ‘talent’ or ‘looks’ is just wrong. When I first decided I wanted to be a professional actor, I couldn’t act a lick and I’m far from a babe magnet – but I’ve managed to make millions as an actor. I’ll conclude my argument with one word: Schwarzeneggar. Case closed.”
“Acting is not an easy business… But the gap between ‘talented enough’ and ‘not talented enough’ is so slim as to be indiscernible… Not all of the successful actors on screen and stage are ‘natural talents’ or even passably good looking. Some are just better at the business part or they manage to stay at it longer than others.”
“… there are specific steps you must take to have any hope of success. And the first step is to rid yourself of all the walls you build up – or allow others to build – that keep you away from fulfilling your dreams. ‘The key to success is – no regrets, no matter where you end up. It’s the journey that you should love.’ - Peter B.”
What Julia Roberts And Porn Taught Me
“You can’t judge a book by its cover.”So, NOW what? Well, you could sift through every piece of pornography ever made and you’d eventually find a handful of adult film stars who are absolutely, 100% PERFECT in EVERY way you can (visibly) detect, but it’d take a fucking lifetime. PLUS? That elite group already exists – they’re the ones on the ridiculously expensive covers and we call them “PORN STARS” (the real ones come in all caps.) But what about the other 99.9999% outside of that minuscule fantasy world? How can what’s readily accessible and affordable to the average Joe be equally enjoyable?! Well, folks- we stir in some reality.
- Scott Borden, Editor
True dat. And I’ll prove it. With porn! (This is a serious matter, folks. And it relates to our acting in oh so many ways…)
Let’s start with an obvious bullet point- looks. We hear the term “porn star” and immediately think huge tits, perfect ass, flowing blonde hair, right? See her on a box cover and you find yourself forgetting the whole “don’t judge by covers” law and signing a receipt! Now, these covers- the ones boasting the “porn stars”- they sometimes live up to our expectations, but a huge majority of the time?? HEY! THAT’S not the “porn star” from the cover! Where’s the “porn star” from the COVER?! Technically, yes – the Cretans who tend to appear behind the fancy curtain that is the cover girl can be called “porn stars” because they are “starring” in a “porn”, but… yeah, no. NOT THE SAME. Why’d we bother with that one?! WE WANT THE BOMBSHELL FROM THE COVER! We’ve been duped into buying a lie! Such deceit…
On the flip side, you have instances in which the heaven-sent knockout who caught your eye actually does, indeed, live up to her photographic calling card. THANK CHRIST ON THE CROSS. But then? ZzzzZZzZzzZZzZzzz… OKAY! You’re hot, we get it, so DO something HOT! What’s with the modest PG-13 routine?! Get, at least, a little freaky-deaky, ‘k?? You’re supposedly a “porn star!” UTILIZE YOUR HOTNESS, PLEASE. Sadly, another disappointing selection…
Looking hot as hell??? GREAT! If it’s you and not a put-on for your picture, that is. Don’t BS us, bitch, you don’t look like this at ALL! Now- what if you really ARE hot as hell and EXACTLY as hot as your cover suggested when you enter? RAD! IF you aren’t entombed in your hotness, that is. If your hotness holds you hostage (insert clever ‘gun to head’ jokes here) and prevents you from LIVING it, what’s the point of pretending to be a smokin’ hot “porn star?!?!” Come on! WRITHE! SWEAT! LOUDER! I mean, isn’t the caveman-level point of this shit to be a fantasy for the viewer?? To allow them to believe they are WITH YOU and that you are AFFECTING and BEING affected BY EACH OTHER in the fantasy?!? Fuck, who wants to fantasize about NOT getting the hot porn star off?? BAH, humbug (clever, obligatory insertion.)
I think fantasies are really just wall outlets for us to plug our realities into for a much-needed recharge. You can’t have ALL fantasy ALL the time, right? RIGHT. Look through those binoculars and you’ll find yourself realizing that the Stepford Slut with the hot air balloons you fantasized about is now NO match for the out-of-nowhere girl-next-door with a slightly smaller rack and a little less spray-tan who goes ALL THE WAY and appears to be HAVING FUN DOING IT! See, it’s my belief that the fantasy should exist solely with the audience. The fantasy-bearing audience needs the REALITY of it from whom they’re watching. And THAT’S where bad AKTING occurs, I think – when we play their fantasy instead of BEING their fantasy. Ya’ with me??
Here’s the thing- we can tell if you’re faking it! (I’ll have an entendre. And make it a double.) I think that we are casting directors’ porn. They want us and they want us BAD! Sure, they probably aim for the HOTTEST at first, but so do we! We just go by box covers and they go by HEADSHOTS and REELS. I think casting directors want the FANTASY that they had the first time they saw us to walk into that room. If it doesn’t? If it turns out we have a fantasy-esque headshot, perhaps? The REAL us coming in just might kill their fantasy. Translation: we just lost our chance to win a fan! Got a smokin’ hot headshot? Do you match that sexy-ass headshot in the flesh? If so, gee willikers, 2 1/2 gold stars for you! But wait – are you so consumed with maintaining that frozen-in-time image they fell for that you find yourself playing it safe when you’re acting to maintain it? If so, you are faking it, even a mute could tell, so BUH-fuckin’-BYE.
I’ll pause the porn for a sec (haha) – what if you’ve just got a natural, everyday, HUMAN BEING headshot (captured flawlessly by a professional, of course) that actually looks like YOU so that when you walk in the room you don’t have to worry about trying to look like the headshot version of “you” they brought in? Might that flush out those actor thoughts and make room for some character thoughts so you could merely take the SUPER-HIGH-STAKES of the circumstances-at-hand and just do what you would do IN those circumstances? (This isn’t multiple choice, the answer is YES.) High five! You’ve managed to successfully inflate their fantasy with your reality and create a living, breathing person that audiences can feel connected to!!! Now do it every goddamn time, ‘k?
Would casting love to discover Julia Roberts every session? Will Smith? Some other $20 mil-a- pic star? JE-ZUS, of-fucking-COURSE! But do they? Is it even worth their time aiming for such a result? NOPE. Stars are born, not invented (the ones that stick, at least.) My point- and I do have one- is that we can’t forget the reality bubbling underneath all the fantasy. The fantasy is there to soften the blow of the reality. It’s like crème brûlée. How fuckin’ GREAT is crème brûlée?! You stick your spoon in and there’s that crunchy sugar, caramel stuff!? YUMMM. Oh, and underneath that is about two inches of EGG YOLK. Gross. “The majority rules.” There’s another law of ours. NOT when it comes to fantasy or joy or excitement. Spend months slaving in a coal mine, find a diamond, the END. You forget the months of slaving underground amid dirt and worms thanks to one tiny diamond. Is that not a beautiful thing?? That there are brief moments in life capable of pausing our entire timeline so we can drool over them? THAT’S what every audition has to do for those casting directors. We must LIVE through the text and experience those moments before them, thus pausing their time lines. (I think they’re called “reversals?” “Clooneys?”)
I think we fall too easily into the fantasy of acting; trying to be the “hottest” or trying to get “famous.” When we STOP TRYING TO BE SOMEONE AND/OR THINGS, we begin to live a life that is truly grounded in reality. I remember pissing my mom off a LOT when she would tie a balloon to my wrist and I’d undo it, marvel watching it slither through the air, then freak out once it escaped my eyesight. “Just because it’s tied to your arm doesn’t mean it’s not floating, it means you won’t lose it!” (25 years later, it all makes sense…)
Some 290 million combined viewers tune in to watch television each week then go out and purchase tampons and applesauce. Are they tuning in to experience the megastar wattage and fancy “Biggest Female Movie Star in History” title of Julia Roberts!? NOPE. They’re watching one of us just live our lives so they can understand and escape and laugh at their lives. Yes, people hear “actor” and they think millionaires, Julia, Johnny, Jennifer, Brad, etc. Even so, those names are the MINORITY! They are freaks of circumsta
nce beyond anyone’s control, especially their own. Celebrity is fantasy – they are those “porn stars” on the covers we reach for. FAKE. Minus reality. They’re special occasion. But everyday folks? They want LIFE. REALITY. EVERYDAY. US! There is so much work for US. Yeah, it’s covered in barbed wire, but we’re learning the TOOLS at LK & Co to cut through that shit! We just have to do nothing but be who we ARE. I’m not saying it’s easy- for God’s sake, have you been in class with me?! I’m the slowest learner amongst us, trust me. I know how hard this shit is. Trust me.
In summation: (1) Don’t be a tease. No one cares how good you look on the cover if you don’t GO ALL THE WAY and HAVE FUN DOING IT! Who the fuck wants “eye candy” when they can suck on us and get CAVITIES! (2) Be YOU and you’ll bring casting’s fantasy of you to life. (3) You can float as high as the sky, but if you lose touch with what keeps you grounded we will lose you. (4) Fuck Julia Roberts. They want YOU.
(NO clue how I started with porn and ended with Julia Roberts. OH, Borden…)
