Polka'd you in the buttocks!

Here is this cute video I was in!
Choreographed by Mike Kirsch!
This was a fun day of shooting!!!!



Hope this makes you smile!!!

LOVE LOVE LOVE

I Once Was Lost, But Now Am Found...

I stepped away from my blogging for a bit....

I'm slowly creeping back in....

Thank you for being so patient.

As a reward for your unconditional love and support... I present to you a video I find extremely hysterical.
It is ridiculous...   and it gets funnier every time I watch it.

Ladies and Gentlemen..  and my dad....  I give you:

Girl... That's a Booty Hole



Watch it repeatedly.  
It's stupid... AND I LOVE IT!  

LOVE LOVE LOVE

A One-Eyed, Deaf Mexican with Bells Palsy

To those of you who've patiently awaited this entry (i.e. my father) I say, "Last night I nicked my scrotum whist manscaping and almost bled out."    .....And we're back!

The past couple of months of unemployment have been a roller coaster.  There were some ups.  There were some downs.  There were some sharp lefts and some hard rights.   There were some close calls, and some huge misses.  There was one loopty-loo, three corkscrews, two homeless guys, a one-legged hooker, and a Croatian dwarf with halitosis and a port wine stain on his face.  I took another on-camera class that was...   fine.  Nothing new... except the realization that on camera I look like a Picasso painting gone awry.  I've recently been taking even greater measures to stay as svelte as possible so the camera can't add pounds to my face.  This, however isn't stopping the camera from doing a first-rate job at highlighting the asymmetry of my features... and I'm not the hugest fan of asymmetry when it comes to MY FACE! I watch myself online when the videos are available and wonder why my left ear seems to be slipping closer and closer to my left shoulder.  Does my shoulder have its own gravitational pull?  I'm not wearing a heavy earring nor do I do a Carol Burnett impression enough to yank my lobe down a few inches so this is NOT OKAY!  Any plastic surgeons out there who want to lift my spirits by lifting my ear?  Anyone?  I'll wait...

....

....

....

I guess not.  Onward and upward...especially my left ear please.

So, one of the most important things that has happened to me since my last entry,  which seems like last year... oh wait... it was last year, was taking Improv 101 at the Upright Citizens Brigade.  Upright Citizens Brigade was first recommended by my friend Robin Levine, an extremely talented young woman who is pretty much on a similar journey thorough this crazy business of show that I am on, only a few steps ahead... I mean... she was already in level 2!  As my Dad use to tell me, stolen from someone else I'm sure, "Look out for #1...but don't step in #2!" Well... I not only wanted to look out for openings in a Level 1 class...I wanted to dive head first into the comedic diarrhea that is inevitably going to be Level 2 and above...  So... going in order, I signed up for Level 101!  Look out Comedy Geniuses, you're going to get a new member in your ranks!  Or so I hoped....and let me tell you... hoping doesn't make you funny.  Sometimes hopping does,  but mostly you just look like a schmuck.

For a few different reasons, I chose to take the four week session that meets 2 times a week instead of the regular 8 week session once a week   1.)  What if I booked something and had to leave?  I've had almost NO audtions,  but I just knew that at any minute a job was going to be thrown my way that would whisk me away from my newly unleashed improvisational talents.  That job never came.  Bastards!  2.)  What if I hated it?  What if I signed up for an 8 week class, and each minute that passed I wanted to stick my balls in a meat grinder?   I've been working out and eating right, so at least it would have been %95 lean ground Ven beef, but I'd rather have my scrote in tact and not throw away $325 bucks.  4 weeks of ground testicles seems less painful than 8.  I know you agree.  I just know.   3.)  Can't think of a third reason.

There were 15 people in my class, and the teacher was this girl I had met two summers ago whilst I was on medical leave from tour for my second surgery on my left knee. We were both students in a 5-week musical theatre workshop at Actor's Connection.  I recognized her face when she walked in the room and as she introduced herself I realized...  I never learned her name in the 5 weeks we were in class together.  Hmmmm....  kind of sad,  but in my defense,  she didn't have a name tag on,  so it's her fault.  Case closed. Anyhoo, the first class began, and thus started the next stage of my life and career which sounds ridiculous, I know, but it is the truth, damn it.  I ain't lyin'!  I am in an extremely fascinating time of my life where I am aware of how positively something can effect me if I allow it, and from the first moment of warming up in the room,  I KNEW that this was going to be one of those experiences and skills that will forever change my life and the way I approach things.   Let me explain...I like the word Dingleberry.

Just checking if you're listening.

Okay, first and foremost, the members of this class were so diverse.  I mean, there weren't any little people... or tribesmen with those giant wooden plates stretching out their bottom lips. That would have been way too distracting for me for the first few classes, and I probably would have been kicked out for trying to pick up the little guys or trying to land loose change onto the wooden plates as if I was trying to win a giant, stuffed Beiber at the county fair. The majority of my classmates were a type of person that I don't get to spend much time with on a regular basis....  NON-actors, but more specifically, and importantly....they weren't in Musical Theatre.  Yes,  yes, there were a few of us who are attempting superstardom through song and dance, but most were regular 9 to 5ers who were intelligent AND funny.  It was so refreshing to be surrounded by people who aren't always performing for an audience, whether they are on stage or not. Smart, witty, and supportive people all around.... I was like a pig in shit!

Our first class began with a basic name game warm-up where we all stand in a circle and one by one say our names, then do a physical motion whist making up a super hero name.  (I'm not making this up.) I was about 5th in the circle... and I could feel my heart pulsating within my chest.  I chose not to take a xanax, so I was completely at the whim of my body's fight or flight response.... and as it got closer to my turn, it felt like my heart was trying to fly out of any cavity of my body, not just my chest.  My turn comes and I say "Ven,"  'cause that's my name, and then I do my default physical gesture, which I HAVE NO IDEA HOW IT CAME TO BE!  I did a deep, front-lunge and uttered, "lunger of the Gods."   Yes people...   once again, in front of a room full of strangers, I lunged!  When the fuck did this start?  I don't remember lunging this frequently in high school.  College???   Nope....  wasn't known for lunging.   How can a person who doesn't lunge on a regular basis, all of a sudden begin lunging when confronted with an uncomfortable situation?  And more importantly...  HOW THE HELL CAN I STOP?   I haven't seen one audition posting that asks for a muscular male actor WHO LUNGES!  This is something I must delve into deeper.... but not now.  Basically, just know.... that for some reason I decided that the best way to introduce myself to a room full of strangers was by lunging (very nicely I might add) and saying I was a lunger of the fucking gods.  This could be one of the reasons I am alone.

Moving along... Now that I have gone and lunged my introduction, the rest of the circle gets their chance to shine for the first time...and we're off to the races.  Each class kept building on the other.  Different games and exercises were explained, and with each one I allowed my guard to be chiseled down. Having grown up playing sports, I've always been a pretty competitive guy. However, it wasn't until a few years after moving to New York that I became very competitive with someone very close to me...myself. The more I wanted to succeed in this business, the harder I became on myself.  It got to the point where I was unable to accept any weaknesses or flaw,  and started pulling away from any challenge that required vulnerability.  I was my own road block.  Putting myself in situations where I could fall flat on my face, both figuratively and literally, fail miserably, embarrass myself, or just plain fuck up is one of the most difficult things for me to do.  I have major problems performing in front of people without being fully rehearsed and perfected, and improv is... the EXACT opposite of being rehearsed and perfected.  Somehow, I have allowed my desire for perfection to hinder my ability to be myself.  I saw my flaws, and am currently working through still seeing them, as weakness instead of uniqueness.  Because of the nature of this business, I have allowed myself to be put in a box that someone else has created for me.  This improv class has reminded me that there is no box big enough, unique enough, or strong enough to hold me. I have been reminded that when I let my guard down, when I allow my insecurities to take a back seat to my instincts, when I stop trying to be something that others tell me I should be... I become my true self again.  I become that innocent, imaginative, inquisitive, spontaneous, and joyful spirit I was back in the day when I didn't care about the judgements of others.   When I stop judging myself and start allowing myself to be free, I become all the interesting things that make me special and unique.  No one else is Me,  no one else can be Me,  and no one else can do a better Me than I can.  Who am I NOT to allow my true being to shine?  How dare I not allow myself to be vulnerable?  This class was basically the catalyst to get me out of my own damn way!  When I get out of my own way, take chances, and allow myself to fail and be imperfect, I open the door to growth and improvement.  This class has given me the courage to be imperfect.  The courage to be vulnerable.  The courage to be me.   The courage to say, "I am enough, and I am worthy of love, belonging, connection, success, and happiness."

May you all find courage....   and if not... I hope you are at least getting some oral.

LOVE LOVE LOVE

Teacher's Pet

One of my main goals uponst returning home is to enroll in as many classes as possible before my savings account dwindles to pennies and I am forced to get a "pay the bills" job.  I'm happy to report....   so far, so good.   However, I cannot say that about all the classes I've taken. A few have been absolutely amazing.... whilst others have caused me to contemplate suicide right there in class.   A three week on-camera audition class at Actor's Connection made me question whether I should attend the last class in the session, or give myself a homemade colonoscopy with a bendy straw and a dental scraper.  I chose to attend the last class.... I later received a thank-you note from my colon...not sure where it got the stamp. During the individual introductions that started off the first class I realized that at least 2 people weren't proficient.... IN ENGLISH! Great.   I chose the ESL level of my first on-camera audition class.  What I learned:  I don't know shit about auditioning in front of the camera...but at least I can read.

A 4 week on-camera class at One on One Studios made me want to cut open a vein and bleed out rather listen to my classmates' opinions of everyone's work. I felt like I was back in Freshman Acting at New World School of the Arts, where after doing a scene, your classmates would critique your work... and you had to sit there and listen to these people who, just like you, have no experience....but tons of opinions about how to do things.  My balls should have been raw from how many people I told to suck them. (in my mind, of course.)   This particular class took 4 nights of my life and stretched them to feel like 4 months... without getting 4 months of information. I sat in the back corner, smooshed up against the wall, and hid behind the front row of student in the hopes that I wouldn't be called upon to give my opinion about my classmates' work. I don't want to hear what they have to say about my work (unless it is lavish praise...which it rarely is), and I find it hard to believe that anyone in that class gave 2 shits about what I had to say about their work.... BUT....  had they given 2 actually shits in the class... I would have been unable to control myself...and given my opinion about their turds.  I think we are all glad no one defecated in the class... simply because it was a small room.   So, during the last class of the session, we spent 2 1/2 hours (of a 2 1/2 hour class that always ran late...and not in a good way)  sitting out in the lobby of the studio space waiting to "audition" for ... are you ready for this???   our classmates!  Not kidding!  As this was being explained to us, I heard a loud thud below me and realized it was my jaw hitting the ground. Once my mouth was re-hinged, i got the last bit of information. Not only are we auditioning for our classmates, they are going to give us adjustments and recommendations in order to do the scene a second time.  I CAN'T!  I just can't.  I want to hear what adjustments my TEACHER (who is a known casting director in NYC) has for me...not the students.  This sucks. After the entire class has had a chance to read their scenes, we find out the whole point of the 4-week class was to teach us that most of the audition process is out of our control...sometimes you just don't look like the part, that all we can do is our best... the rest is out of our hands...and blah blah fuckin' blah!  I'm not knocking the importance of that information, but it seems like a pretty easy thing to say in under 1 minute...not 4 weeks.  If so much is out of our control....  then teach me how to master the parts that ARE in my control.  Seems like a pretty simple concept to me...  apparently not the teacher.  At least she was really...nice.  In trying to find the positive,  I'm happy that I had 4 opportunities to be in front of a camera, and probably wouldn't be so heated about the heinousness of the class if it wasn't $400+ BUCKS!!!   But to be fair and aware.....  I think the majority of the reason I hated this class was because I took two separate classes with one of the best teachers I have ever had the opportunity to study with...and one of the most life-changing, yes... i said 'life-changing," classes I have ever been in!  Bob Krakower's On-Camera Audition class at One on One Studios. I get a chubby just thinking about it.  Ladies and Gentlemen....   you might never hear this from me again,  but if you have a choice between taking this class, and fellatio from the hottest person you have ever met...AND this person can remove their teeth whilst still being sexy.....   take the class.   I KNOW!  That's how great it was!  And you know how much I love gum jobs.  (If you are a female... figure out the equivalent to the toothless vacuum I just described.... maybe a man with vibrating lips...i don't have a vagina so I have to base it on previous experience and female friend's descriptions. And if you're a tranny...  I...  I just don't even know where to begin, but take the class.)  Anyhoo....
Before returning to NYC, I had heard from a plethora of people that I should take Bob's class.  Every student of his with which I had spoken raved about the class, but not the normal "it was great! You should take it" crap that people say all the time about classes.  I kept hearing unusual descriptions like: "Life-changing"and  "You NEED to take this class."   Life-changing?  I love that!   NEED to take it???   Don't' tell me what to do! Well, apparently I wasn't the only person hearing this from his talented friends,  because after my orientation at One on One studios I marched my recently worked-out and firm glutes right up to the front desk and said, "Bob's Krakower's class please."   It was as if I asked to see a one-legged little person on a unicycle, juggling Pamela Anderson's discarded silicone implants. Not Gonna Happen.  (no matter how hard I pray!)   "That class has been full since the day we posted it a month ago.  I can put you on the waiting list and if a space just happens to open up, we will do a mass e-mailing to everyone on the list, and the first one to get to a computer and sign up for the class will get the spot."  HOLY SHIT!  What am I signing up for....  a chance to tickle Angelina Jolie's tweeter? "Okay,  then put me on that list!" I say with a big, newly-whitened grin....and ushered my bum out the building.
I have never looked at my email more than during that month.   NOTHING!   Then one day....randomly in the car of a friend of mine (if you live in NYC...having a friend with a car is a rare treat...like hearing your mother fart) I saw on my phone that I received an email informing me that Bob Krakower has put up the next New Student class date, and registration is happening... Now!   NOW?  PULL OVER!!!!!  PULL OVER!!!!!    My friend swerves to the curb, dodging a urinating homeless man, an old woman who hasn't stood up straight since the Ford Administration, a few random piles of horse dung, and a dirty water hot dog stand... I run out...  straight to this coffee shop that I have never seen in NYC, STARBUCKS,  open my lap top...  COME ON... COME ON!!....   go to the website....    OH PLEASE OH PLEASE.....    and.... I get in!!!!   FUCK YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!     excuse me?  How much is that?  $525?  Are you kidding me? $525 dollars....does he toggle my nuggets at at the end of each class? I read the fine print... nope,  no Tantric rub-down... It's okay, I can schedule that on my own... I have connections.   But I am in!   A 2-day intensive.... 9 am to 6 pm.. It's on!   But I have no idea what I am in for...And I haven't gotten up before 11:00 am in months.   BRING IT ON...   and while I'm here, I'll have an Iced Venti Unsweetened Iced Coffee please.
The first day arrives and I am carrying my imaginary toolbox full of all my acting skills that I have accumulated over the past 10 years of working professionally in the business,  and another 4 years of college.  There are specialty tools in there....characters, accents, actions, emotions, colors, choices...   all the things we are taught to master.   The 15 of us in the class all have boxes of our own. Some are tall and skinny, some short and fat,  some boxes have a receding hairline,  and some are young and fresh from the manufacturer. A few of the boxes are so amazing looking that even if they were filled with Syphilis and Chlamydia....  you'd still want to stick your fingers in there, but maybe not call the next day. Thank you Antibiotics! So,  after handing out the same scene to everyone he screams, "Get out and come back in 15 minutes!" You can see us all digging deep into our tool boxes to show him and the other students how amazing our 'house' is going to be when we build it using these tools.
One by one.... we get in front of the camera and do the scene... and one by one we see how different everyone has interpreted the scene. Collectively, we bring different characters, scenarios, speech patterns, etc.   After the last student is recorded, we watch the tape. That doesn't sound like a hard thing to do.  WRONG!  I couldn't even pic out my own headshots, this is torture.  Watching yourself on screen is comparable to pulling out your pubes one by one. Not comfortable.  It's an interesting paradox wanting to work on camera,  and HATING everything about yourself... on camera.  Why do we do this to ourselves?  Not quite sure yet.   Bob even said, "I'm going to lose you once you watch yourself on camera"...and...he was right...   as I'm learning he usually is.
So, I guess the best way to describe what happened during that first scene is to continue with the toolbox and house imagery.  We all got the same scene, skimmed it, thought about how we would "act" it, and then went into our toolboxes and built these beautiful homes (the scene) from all of our acting experiences.  We all made wonderful dwellings... some Mansions, some cottages by the sea, a few condos, a smattering of penthouses, 3 teepees, and one igloo.   But the one thing in common was that none of our "homes" had any foundation, no plumbing, no chimney...no electricity. Nothing to stand on.  It was just a beautiful facade, nothing else.   Collectively, we hadn't learned how to read a scene properly and DO what the scene was asking us to do.  Most of us were theatre actors. We had no clue how to use the frame of the camera to our advantage, which is a whole separate set of skills!   I could try to explain all the information I learned in that first two day intensive, but then I'd have to kill you... and the only kind of killing I do is with Kindness.
I was so enthralled and invigorated from this experience that the evening I finished the 2-day intensive I signed up for the advanced level of this class.  I just happened to luck out and get into the class the following month, and decided to take the 4-day session, since the 2-day was so exhausting and my brain felt like it was going to explode. Just like the first class, it was AMAZING!
Bob Krakower's classes were the first learning environments in my entire life where I was completely comfortable making mistakes and not being "good" at something.  Vulnerable, yet safe.  I knew that my mistakes would just be another opportunity to learn something from this brilliant, supportive teacher. There are fantastic classes and brilliant teachers out there.  These teachers, who at times unknowingly become mentors (my voice teacher D. Michael Heath),  have information and knowledge that would make it impossible for us NOT to improve if we pay attention, work hard,  and practice.  There are classes taught by teachers who love teaching, and love seeing their students learn and grow. This business is too hard to not love what we do, and I am so grateful to everyone who recommended Bob's class to me.   I feel that Bob has given me a tool belt, and put a hammer and screwdriver inside the front pocket and said, "Here... here are the basics.... master these, and you can have your toolbox back."

Now if I could just nail or screw somebody.

Love each other.


XOXO
Ven

You can't say I have no class.

As a wee lad in Tropical Elementary School in Plantation, Florida...I learned a plethora of things, which is good to know,  because it was school....and you are supposed to learn things there.  So they got that down. In Kindergarten I learned that glue wasn't a food group.  In First Grade I learned the Ty Huber picked his nose and deposited it under the table for the booger fairy. In Second Grade I learned that Math sucked my prepubescent nut sack. In Third Grade I learned that if your backpack is so messy that you can't find your homework when it is due,  your mother will have to sit in the classroom with you and make sure you do do it (talk about a major cock block huh... there was some sweet third grade ass in Plantation, Florida, and nothing keeps your third-grade lipstick cap on like in-class, parental supervision.) In Fourth Grade I learned that I could coast through and get good grades without working too hard.  And in fifth grade I learned that sometimes you have to work really hard to get what you want when coasting through doesn't cut it.

There I was,  graduation...... of the Fourth Grade.  A huge step.  Well,  probably not that huge, I have short legs.  But anyway,  I was there.   Waiting for my name to be called,  and my safety-patrol badge handed to me. I saw my red-hair bobbing through the crowd of inferiors, heading toward my prize...  My badge of honor.  The pin of superiority.  The bright orange belt of POWER!   My name will be heard at any moment.   I was imagining myself showcasing my new privilege of standing up ON THE BUS!   Only those in the elite safety-patrol clan had the permission, balance, and core strength to walk the length of that yellow monster whilst it was moving!  Just a few more members left, look at the rest of them....  sad excuses for future fifth graders. I'm going to be a kind, and just Ruler.  The last name is called,  I rise.   I slowly begin to walk forward the claim my.... Wait, WHAT?   WHO?   That didn't sound anything like my name!  And why is that douche-nozzle being handed the last GOLDEN TICKET?  What is going on?   Is this really happening?   And why is it raining?  Oh... that's not rain...  it's applause...   for next year's safety patrols....   and I'M NOT ONE OF THEM!  

OH

MY

GOD!

I trip over something....   my pride.   I pick it up.  Listen to the teacher who just handed out the final badge...that whore.....and hear, "for those of you still interested in become safety-patrols, we will take a look at your work and behavior at the beginning of next year, and make more selections at that time."  In my mind I return her heart that I have just ripped from her chest with a smile, and silently make a vow to myself.  I WILL BECOME A SAFETY PATROL!   I WILL WORK AS HARD AS NECESSARY TO REACH MY GOAL!  Fifth Grade....    You bet your ass I became a safety patrol.   And you can bet someone else's ass that it was that much sweeter, and I was that much prouder of my accomplishment because I worked my ass off to get it!

Fast forward to present time.....   I say it again.   I will work as hard as necessary to reach my goal!  I will work and study and practice.... and since being back in NYC...  that is exactly what I am doing.  

In the past 3 months I have:

Taken a voice lesson almost every week.

Taken a 3-week on camera audition class with at Actors Connection. This class had 2 people that barely spoke English...   and I think you could hear my inner voice permeating the class, "please don't be my partner... please don't be my partner... POR FAVOR!!!!"   

Taken a life-changing 2 day new student on-camera intensive with Bob Krakower at One on One Studios. 

Taken a life-changing 4 day advance student on-camera with Bob Krakower at One on One Studios. (This experience must be discussed!  Amazing!)

Taken a 4 week on-camera audition class. (must write about this shit ball of a class at some point too!)

Rented private studio space at to work on audition material. 

Auditioned for an amazing Musical Theatre Audition class that is taken by some amazingly talented working actors in the business.....one of them being D.B. Bonds, a man I am honored to call my friend.  (Don't trip on the name that I just dropped please.) And I think I got in!   Now I just hope a spot opens up for me!  

I type this list out, not to boast, and certainly not to brag, but to remind myself that I am doing everything that I can to grow and improve as an actor while waiting for the next gig.  I promised myself to take classes when I came home, and I am doing that.  My savings account is dwindling and pretty soon I'm going to have to start personal training again.  Drop and Give Me 20!  In times of professional drought, it is easy to sit back and wallow in how slow the business is.  I have fallen into this pit before, but this time is different...at least for now!   I keep thinking about fifth grade, and how much brighter that fluorescent orange belt glowed and how much brighter that the metal-ish badge shined when I worked hard to get it. Whatever is next on the horizon for me, It will be that much more of a prize because I am not just sitting back, doing nothing, and expecting others to take me seriously and give me a chance.   I am working on me, my business, and ever looking for opportunities to add to my arsenal of tools.

Oh....  and I got a prescription for Xanax so I stopped freaking out before auditions.   Now.....   if I could just get an audition,  we'll see if it works!

Love thy neighbor, and suck my balls.  They are newly trimmed.  Trim the hedges and the tree looks bigger people!

LOVE LOVE LOVE

V

On The Verge of a Nervous... Breakthrough.

There I was, 21 years after passing through the labia majora of the woman known as my mother, about to take my first ballet class.  I repeat....   Labia Majora.  I was wearing my newly purchased black tights, black leather ballet slippers, and a wife beater.  Having no idea what a dance belt was,  my ginger-minged pecker was also making his ballet debut whilst my scrotum, experiencing stage fright, thought it would be smart to hide betwixt my thighs...dangling (it was warm) in no man's land, which I later learned is the most dangerous place for your balls when dancing...  DUMB BALLS!  When class started I basically had no idea what the fuck was going on!  Plee-yay.... what?   Tom-bay.... who?   Glee-sahd... ummmmm, why isn't this shit in English?   The only French I know is Fry.   So not only am I greatly behind from starting to dance at age 21, I literally couldn't speak the language of ballet.  Add to that... my insecurities about looking like a total tool, a future in dance was not in the cards. "I couldn't possibly be seen moving like that...  I'll look like a tard!" probably passed from my lips at some point that year. I mean...  How could I put myself in a position to be laughed at and mocked like I, at the time, would have hilariously done to others?  HOW I ASK YOU????    I'll answer that... I didn't!  Two years go by... and though I am progressing rather quickly by mimicking the steps, my need to maintain some semblance of masculinity disallowed me to fully embrace the style and movement quality to excel. I was stuck! I needed something to happen... something to help me get over this hurdle.  That 'something' came after I had already moved to the bright lights and feces-filled streets of New York City during a ballet class at Broadway Dance Center.  A light when off in my noggin as I watched this guy in class dance circles around me.  So I decided to try something drastic! I was going to mimic and basically make fun of this guy's dancing by exaggerating everything I'm doing!  I KNOW I KNOW... it sounds mean... but it wasn't like I was in cahoots with anyone trying to pick on this guy... This mockery was going on in my head...   from the outside, no one would know what I was doing. Stop judging me....   It worked!  Though I was making fun of this movement quality.... it actually allowed me to do it properly...or at least.. FULL OUT!! (I'm am not, nor will I ever be... a ballet technician.)  It was like for some reason,  if I was making fun of the movement, then I wasn't afraid of being made fun of for doing the movement.  As I kept using this "technique" as I like to think of it, it slowly became the way I danced.  I was no longer making fun of the movement, it now WAS my movement.  It allowed me relinquish my insecurities and bare my soul while I was dancing.   

So...  fast forward to these past two months of being unemployed.   

I've been taking a voice lesson every week since returning home... and am just in love with my voice teacher.  In this short period of weekly lessons I have noticed a drastic improvement in my voice... but once again... something is missing!  My teacher, D. Michael, was trying to get me to make a specific sound while moving my mouth in a way that I was just not comfortable doing.  I thought it made me look like I had a stroke...or Bell's Palsy! (both of which are no joking matter... unless it is really clever...  then you can joke about anything...  I mean, you're bound to offend someone... why not at least be funny?)  Once again, my insecurities were keeping me from improving, and growing!  WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME!?   Watching D. Michael produce the sound, I got an idea....  basically because I was thinking how crazy he looked! I looked at him...  and with the utmost respect and delicacy said, "Um...  I'm going to try something....  I'm going to make fun of what you are doing...just go with it and don't punch me."   I could see a concerned look on his face...but who wouldn't have some reservations when someone looks them in the face and says they are going to make fun of them?  I guess Helen Keller wouldn't... she wouldn't even know you were looking her in the face... and honestly, would she really be teaching anyone voice lessons?  I highly doubt it.  Well, in the immortal words of Helen Keller....  "oooweralaeeeahhhhhrrrrr"  Anyhoo...  I took a deep breath....   and whilst mocking the mouth movement of my beloved mentor, I moved mine in an unfamiliar, and uncomfortable way. Guess what happened?   


I'll wait.


I did it!  I finally made the 'full and balanced' sound he has been trying to get me to make for the past year! It was such a wonderful feeling!  It was like a door had been cracked open a hair... A heavy as shit, lead-door that is going to take a lot more work to open wider... but open non-the-less!   

How I deal with my issues on a daily basis is my choice.  And I choose to fight them. I choose to find ways around them in order to open myself to growth as an artist, actor, singer, dancer, friend, lover, brother and son.  I owe it to myself to be the best I can be, and I will continue to do whatever I can to get out of my own way. If I have to find and use little tricks like 'making fun of something' to jump a personal hurdle... I'm going to do it!  I'm sick of being in my own way. 


May your insecurities melt away, and don't let anyone bring you down....  unless you're prone to having an inverted uterus... then you're screwed, and should always have on pantyhose.... just in case.


Especially if you like to jog.


Loving you.


Ven

Net-working My Nerves.

Networking.   My dear sweet Networking.   You are forever in my mind, teasing me with endless possibilities of job opportunities.  Oh how so many have mastered you, making you their slaves.... while others sit on the outskirts of your love... looking in like an fat kid staring through the window of candy store.  Networking.....    YOU SUCK MY BALLS!

In every business you hear of the importance of networking.  Putting yourself out there, and making connections with people, all with the understanding that at some point in the future, that connection might work in your favor.  Since this is Show Business,  this definitely applies to actors as well. But for some reason I have the hardest time with this aspect of the business.  There is something about consciously socializing with people for the sake of self promotion that seems so insincere and awkward to me.  I have NO problem having a good time, a drink, a flirt, and a random sexcapade in the bathroom of Medieval Times.  That shit is easy!  I can just be my charming, toilet-humor obsessed self...  asking new friends to pull my finger... and hoping that I don't disqualify and shart in my pants...again.  (This happens a few times a year.)   But when socializing with the likes of casting directors, directors, producers, writers, choreographers.... etc...   I just can't be myself.   And not being myself....  is not okay.  

I am bothered by my inability to feel comfortable kibbitzing (shooting the shit...for those who aren't familiar with Yiddish) with the big whigs, and have spent many an hour awake in bed pondering this problem.  I mean, come on....  I'm fucking hysterical!  I can burp on command, retell stories in intricate detail about my bowel movements, and openly discuss the extraction of cysts from my abdomen...I mean who wouldn't find me an absolute joy to chat with?  All kidding aside...  I love farting.    Anyway, back to Networking.  I tend to bring things up in conversation when I am working through an issue, so, many  times this past week I have brought up the subject of my Networking block with unsuspecting, unqualified, and virtually uninterested people.... and here is what I have come up with.    

1.  It's a power thing.    I want/need something from these people... therefore, I actually CARE if I say the wrong thing, piss them off, offend them, or overstep my bounds in some way.  Normally,   it's just not that deep.  

2.  I feel that these people are not my peers...and that changes how I speak to them.  Because I have not yet written, directed, choreographed or produced a show, we just aren't on the same professional level. I've never been on their side of the table at an audition.  I feel that it is plausible that at some point in a conversation they can say that I am being inappropriate (WHICH HAPPENS...  Some comic opportunities are too good to pass up).... But because I don't think we are peers, my normal response to someone telling me I was being inappropriate is well....  completely inappropriate.   That response, handed down to me from my father is.... "well you can go Fuck Yourself."  That poses a problem when Networking, don't ya think?

3.  I need to create something!  I need do something that will change my perception of where I fall on the ladder! 

4.  I have to take a dump.   This has nothing to do with Networking....but i ate an entire box of Cheez-Its.  NOT RECOMMENDED.

5.  I need my balls to drop again.  Somehow, in the past few years, I've lost my balls, they have shrunk and slowly crawled up into my body, hiding.  I now, hold my tongue and let things go.  ME...  holding my tongue!?!?   My guess is that anyone who knew me 8 or more years ago would be surprised to hear that...  and surprised to hear that I don't say what is on my mind.... ALL the time.  Somewhere along the line I grew a....  i am having trouble typing this word...   somehow, in the past years, I grew a...  Filter.  Yeah... that was hard for me, suck it.  However, I have noticed that I am making a turn in the right direction and slowly tearing my re-grown verbal hyman and finding my voice again.   Maybe this is what I need to find success in the Networking world.....  a broken hyman and a poop joke.  I'll let you know how that works out for me.

------------Time Lapse------------Took a Shower-------------

I just had a bit of an epiphany whilst washing my kibbles and bits in the shower. I was delicately caressing the lining of my sac when it hit me...I haven't had someone else touch my balls in a while.  And then I realized...  I might not be as bad at Networking as I think I am.  I just have to redefine it,  or change my view on what Networking is.   I have this idea that Networking is a bad word....  and even after this epiphany... the word makes me vomit in my mouth a bit...and let me tell you.... Split Pea soup isn't as good the second time...especially if there are bacon chunks.  It's a word that I have allowed to become synonymous with insincerity, shameless self-promotion, ass kissing, etc....   But since I have returned from tour I have been more social than I have been in the past 10 years of my life.  About once a week, we have a Legally Blonde Boys night where the boys get together for drinks and just hang out... We talk about life, work....  and sex.  (I guess that covers the basics right?)  This is one of the highlights of my week.   It's hanging out with my friends, but since these guys are in the business, I could technically call it Networking.  They are all working  or working on getting jobs.  Just because none of them are casting directors, directors and such doesn't mean that they won't have some connections in the future.  If THIS is networking, then I can do this!   I'm going because I love spending time with these guys, not because I want anything from them other than their friendship.  

Maybe I'm being too hard on myself as usual.  I have allowed myself to believe that I have to seek out people with influence for it to be considered Networking.   If I just keep being social (which is sometimes a struggle for me) and having a good time with my friends, I'm bound to socialize with someone in the "you make me socially awkward" category... and in an environment where I am comfortable and just there to hang out and have a good time...  I know I can be myself!  

Sometimes things just start making sense when I write things out.

Sometimes I need to remind myself that I am human and allowed to make mistakes and have flaws.

Sometimes I pee sitting down.  

Sometimes I just smile cause I'm alive.

Right now is one of those times.  

Everything is going to work out!

Ven

Big Mushroom Head...shots.

A short list of Things I Hate Doing:    

Throwing up

Murdering bunnies

Burning my taint on a waffle iron

Getting an STD

Eating Gefilte Fish

Fellating a Grizzy Bear

Slipping in a homeless man's feces

Having to pretend I don't notice you're a little person

Auditioning

and the point of this entry.....      

Picking a headshot!   

This past week I had headshots taken by two separate, talented photographers.  "Why did you have two photographers take your headshots" you might ask? Well...   let me explain!  Stop pestering me....DAD!  After showing my current headshots to my at-the-time, hopefully new agent, he, with the utmost delicacy....immediately suggested new ones.  The one where my hand is on the temple of my head, and I am SERVING IT UP with "eye"-tensity, yes...that one... the one that everyone says my eyes look really intense and other very complimentary things... HE HATED.  And he thought the other two shots were not going to help my fight to change my dancer-boy image to...well,   NOT a dancer-boy image. I agreed.  At that point I would have agreed to manipulate my scrotum and penis into the shape of a cheeseburger just to have him represent me, but luckily I didn't have to...  even though I've seen it online and can TOTALLY do it!   Anyhoo... He wanted me to get some "leading man, edgy" headshots and suggested I use this one photographer. So....  I call and make an appointment with this guy (which in itself is a big step for my procrastinating ass),  we meet...  completely enjoy each other's company (easily one of the nicest people I have ever met)... and schedule a day and time to take some glorious headshots that are going to make me a shining star.  So...  that is one photographer scheduled.. NEXT...   

A month or so before I left tour,  a friend of mine was talking to a friend of his (are you following all this???)  and somehow it came up that he was interested in photographing me...pro bono.  Not Sonny Bono...  or the new Chaz Bono...  but pro bono.   WELL!!!    Someone wants to take picture of me and I don't have to pay them???  I'm IN!!!  After another miraculous show of NOT procrastinating we wound up meeting,   totally hit it off, and scheduled a day to make magic....  a day that happened to be THE DAY BEFORE the other photo shoot.   Sooooo....   a week later... I have two photo shoots in two days...    

Photo shoot day one....    I arrive.   Pull out my clothes and hang them up. Pick out an outfit. We walk around Hells Kitchen, mostly 46th-50th Street between 9th and 10th Aves...  find some cool colors, areas,... take some shots....  change some clothes right there on the street...   take some shots...   pretend I'm Tyra Banks (we have the same forehead!).... head back to his apartment... change some clothes...  take some shots....  take off some clothing (I DONT DO NUDES... yet) and arrange the always loved Top Lighting...  take some shots in a speedo inside the studio in his apartment...  and finish with some more....   shots.   495+ shots in a few hours.   End of the day...Great time had by all!  All pics available online to peruse the next day. 

Photo shoot day two...  I get to the photographer's apartment, which is only like 8 blocks south and 2 blocks west of the first photographers (close...but in NYC, even one block can make a big difference!)....  The photographer made magic with the clothes that I brought.... and even lent me an undershirt and tie!  This guy could possibly be one of the nicest people in New York!  I brought some preppy, vibrantly-colored sweaters that I thought would pop in pictures...  and I WAS RIGHT by the way! However...  I should have purchased and brought that Hugo Boss slim-fit shirt and black tie that I really wanted to be photographed in, but I couldn't get myself to fork out the money for it....  I should have just done it!  DAMN!   UGH...  Sometimes I just irritate myself so much! Now, since I wasn't in my uniform, a t-shirt and jeans combo that I always wear,  I was already a touch out of my element.  We leave the apartment and start going around a 5 block area, which was not the most comfortable environment for me. (Highly populated, lot of traffic, dirty, and the people who were nearby scared me....  I felt at any minute I was going to be called a faggot or something, which doesn't happen normally, but happened the last time I got headshots taken, so I knew it was a possibility...i guess there is something inherently gay about a man getting pictures taken,  who knew?)... So I sit on the dirty floor, take some shots....   walk around....  take some more shots sitting on the dirty pavement....  we run from a crazy, angry homeless man...    go back to apartment for outfit number 2....  same thing outside...at one point some woman in her car opened her window and asked us to remove a pigeon stuck on the hood of her car....  we declined.  I ain't touching a fuckin' pigeon.. HELL NO!   Back to apartment for outfit number 3....  then...  more of same thing outside. I've learned that I find it almost impossible to give you "leading-man edgy" whilst sitting flat-assed on a dirty city sidewalk, in preppy and brightly-colored sweaters, looking up at a camera. I know for next time! I couldn't even fake it.   By the end of the third outfit... I'm just done.  I realized after the shoot that I should have said something about how I was feeling... but at the time I felt like I was paying this photographer for his specific "artistic eye" and that it would be rude to not do what he suggested.  I still feel like that!  I mean... this is an amazing person, recommended to be by my newly signed agent (WOO HOO!!!!!!!  I have a new agent!) who has taken some amazing headshots for actors, and I felt like it was just my issues with the environment that I needed to get over and rise above.  WHICH I DIDN'T! I was so uncomfortable that I passed on a 4th outfit opportunity. Who does that?  ME apparently! The thought of having to put on another "leading-man, edgy" outfit and sit on the filthy floor of the concrete jungle one more time was stressing me out. I also felt so bad because I must have been soooo boring to take pictures of.  Yes... I actually felt bad because of how poorly I was performing.  I still get bothered at how passive I was just writing about it.  Okay okay ...  the point of this is not the shoot itself...  it is how I react to seeing picture of me!   So... let's move on.  

I get the link to all the pics from the first shoot... and a disc of all the shots from the second shoot.  Now the trauma really begins!  I look at pictures of myself and wonder which one of my chromosomes is missing!  I go through the shots... and basically.... I'm a mutant!  My ears are uneven, one eye has more lid than the other so it looks like I'm stoned... IN ONE EYE!   My upper lip isn't symmetrical so I sometimes look like the Joker from Batman....   My teeth sometimes look Giant... and my smile sometimes look so fake that I want to punch myself in the face.  My hairline is always the first thing I see.  And basically, how much I like a picture is directly related to how thick I think my hair looks.   I have learned that the only way I will like a picture of me.... is by being able to find the least things wrong with it.   Apparently...  I will only like a picture of me... if I can look at it and not throw up in my mouth.  I have become the kind of person who can only appreciate a picture of me where I look attractive...like this is the only thing that is important about me.  This isn't a good thing when trying to find a headshot.  People say that a headshot should have personality... I HAVE personality!  I got tons of that shit!  I got personality oozing out of my urethra...  Oh wait!  I better get that checked.  Where was I? Oh yeah... I am only comfortable with pictures of me if they are attractive and free from flaws (unless I am deliberately trying to look unattractive... then its okay...  that's COMEDY!)....  WELL.... I am full of flaws... and they are all I see when I look in the mirror or at pictures, so I am having a horrible time picking shots! I have asked a bunch of people to help me pick my new headshots...   and let's just say, if I had the choice between using some of the headshots people liked and sticking rusty, barbed wire in my pee hole,  I'd be needing a tetanus shot and some Spackle! 

So what is the point of this whole blog?  I guess a couple of things.  ONE....  I need to grow a pair of balls the next time I get headshots taken.  If there was ever a photographer  I could have expressed my concerns to, it was this one! So the next time,  I'm speaking up!   TWO... I have to learn to be objective when looking at pictures of myself.  My friend Lucia Spina really helped me look at my shots from a different angle, and helped me see that I don't have to look perfect for it to be a great headshot.  Looking my best might just be when I just look like me, imperfections and all!  A picture of me is just that... a picture.  And if I am picking a shot that is not fully representing me... then I'm doing myself a disservice....   Oh who the fuck am I kidding? I know that won't ever go away completely!  But I do know that I can't be perfect no matter how hard I try.   Maybe I can just focus on not being so hard on myself. Baby Steps people!  Rome wasn't built in a day!  

Some of my favorites.... though may not be great headshots!  

That last shot is white because of lighting!  Yes,  I'm very pale... but come on!  I'm not an albino... but I love the shot!   

I hope you are not as hard on yourselves as I am on myself...  but if you are,  know you are not alone.  But i think we can work through this with time. 

Oh...  one more thing I hate doing:    Giving an enema to Elaine Stritch.

Love Love Love

Ven

Bombs Away

So....    I bombed my first audition.  No... I'm not exaggerating....   I forgot the words to my song.  Yes...  there I was....   with a perfect song choice for the role I was auditioning for (A Light in the Dark from Next to Normal)  I start singing my song....   feeling good and connected, a true song bird resonating with such finesse...  when I hear something...   what is that???   Who is talking to me??  OH...  its ME! I hear my own voice in my head say, "Are you looking above the heads of the auditioners so I don't make them uncomfortable by looking directly at them like you've heard a million times??...  yeah..  check!"  AWESOME!!!  I'm gonna book this shit!!!!    Then I hear me again.... "do these people think I look like a crazy person deliberately looking over their heads, trying not to make eye contact???"  Just keep focusing above them!!   The next think I know I'm thinking, "hmmmm,  I wonder why this part of the music doesn't sound familiar!? Damn, the people they hire to play the piano at these things really sucks my balls...  "  .... followed by, "OH SHIT!!!!   ITS ME!!!  I FUCKED UP!!!!   I skipped to a differnt part of the song!!!"   I tried as hard as I could to use my telepathic powers to direct the pianist to the section of the song I skipped to,  but I must have lost those powers in the war.  So I did the only thing I could do.   I  said, out loud, to the people I'm trying to get to hire me....   "I have NO IDEA where I am in this song!"  and then did a sensible Deep Lunge and put my hands on my hips...   cause nothing shows confidence like a man in a pair of gorgeous grey slacks, perfectly fitted light blue dress shirt, and pink and blue tie in a half-windsor knot,   like a hands-on-hip deep lunge!   Surprsingly, the auditioners were very nice...   even saying how much they were enjoying it up to that point.... (i want to believe they were telling the truth...but doubt it!) I sauntered over to the pianist.... thanked him for trying to help me out even though it was futile (and apologized on my inside for initially blaming it on him)...  and asked him to pick it up from a part toward the end and then addressed the creative team by saying, "So... I'm just gonna start from the end and BRING IT HOME!"  (who am I, Ethel Fuckin' Merman?)   I finished singing my song.... and then went to get my stuff and started to walk out... when they asked me to read the 2nd scene of the 2 that they gave me...  SO..... that would be the second time in 3 minutes where I DEFEATED MYSELF!  I read the sides with some guy sitting in a chair in the corner, cause that is a real theatrical environment,  and was finally allowed to leave the room with my tail betwixt my legs.
I HATE AUDITIONS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   I fucking hate them!   I spent the past week working on a song that I was given from the show, specifically for that audition...   and was only asked to sing my own song.  Yes, I was told to have my own song....   but....   I was prepared to sing YOUR song!   WHAT THE FUCK!!!!????   I am accepting total responsibility, but it is still irritating!  I should have been more prepared with my own song....   but I just assumed I would be able to pop that shit out....  I WAS WRONG!   I need to be more on top of this..  I need to make sure that I am able to perform my audition songs at the drop of the hat!  Right now, I am unable to do this.

So here's my plan.

Watch some porn.

THEN....   I am going to rent rehearsal space at a studio in the city...   and prepare each song in my book that I plan on using at some point in an audition as if it is a finished, onstage performance.   I did this with two auditions before and booked them both!   I am completely aware at my current inability to just go into a random room in a random studio, in front of random people, and just let my instincts book me a job.   NOPE.. NOT GONNA HAPPEN!   I need to have it mapped out... I need to have it choreographed.... directed... whatever!!! I just need it to feel like a finished product.   I can't just walk in there and make magic...  but I know I can make magic when I'm on stage! (and having sex.... wanna see?)  So I have to prepare my audition material as if it is going to be performed ON STAGE!  I am going to make sure this recent audition experience never happens again!  I was so disappointed in myself....  I let myself down by not being prepared in the way I need to be prepared.   I was so saddened by my showing that the only thing I could do the rest of the day was go home... order a large pizza, eat the whole thing,  eat a bag of peanut M&Ms, and sulk.  

But, since I'm a man with a goal....   I must find the positive!

The positives:

ONE:   I'm still able to eat a whole large pizza by myself! HOLLA!!!!!  Gluttons UNITE!!!  WOO HOO!

TWO:  It can only get better from here,   RIGHT?  I mean... unless I take a giant turd in my pantalones vaqueros during an audition... It can't get much worse!

and C:    I know what needs to be done!   and I can do it!!!!  

Also...   a friend of mine told me a trick one of his friends does before his auditions.  He goes to the bathroom and gets himself a chubby before walking into the room.   He said it gives him a little more mojo....  so....  hey.. I'm gonna try it.  Nothing like spanking it a bit before singing a musical theatre standard, and anything that gets my hands on my dong is okay by me!

LOVE LOVE LOVE

I still can't believe I did a deep lunge in front of people I want to cast me.

Ven

Judge and Jury

A long long time ago,  in a city far far away, there was a little boy.   A little redheaded boy with the longest lashes....  and giant teeth that he hadn’t quite grown into yet.  An innocent boy yet to be destroyed by the evil forces of judgement.  That boy.... was me.  

We all have moments in our lives where we judge. At least, for purposes of this entry, I am going to say ‘ALL.’  We judge others, we judge ourselves, we judge ... Judy. If we were able to read the minds of others, I think it would be nearly impossible to find a human who hasn’t judged someone else.  If you are one of those people who are able to read minds,  please,  leave a comment at the end of this cause I would love to hear from you....  and then probably judge you as being crazy.  Sorry about it... just being honest. 

Now, I say I was destroyed by the evil forces of judgement, but I want to be clear that in addition to having at times been emotionally wrecked from judgement weighed uponst me (‘uponst’ just sounds more regal)....  I am speaking specifically about how my judgement on others has destroyed me and  my ability to enjoy theatrical events and performances.  Somewhere in my life a switch was made.   I went from someone who could get lost in the world of a musical, enjoying my time being taken on a jaunt riding a Showboat through a mystical land called Brigadoon (which only comes around once every hundred years), whilst Defying Gravity with People who need People....   to a jaded theatre critic.  When and how did this start?  When will it end?  How can I change this?  

The first professional show I saw was Miss Saigon at the Broward Center for the Performing Arts starring.....   no one famous.  I was at the edge of my seat the entire show....  which probably irritated the people in the row in front of me....   but fuck them...THERE WAS A HELICOPTER ON THE STAGE, what did they expect?  My friend Jill and I sang the entire soundtra.....pardon me you theater snobs... Cast Recording everyday in her car, acting out the important parts with our arms....since that is how you “act” before you have any training....and having recently watched a bootleg of a show I was in....after training as well! At no point during the performance did I turn to my friend and make some douche-bag comment about the talent of the actors on stage, or my disagreement of their “choices,” or lack there of.

Fast Forward to college.   There I am, a freshman at New World School of the Arts....I repeat... a FRESHMAN....  watching a fellow classmate mutilating a scene in one of our weekly assignments theoretically meant to teach us skills to later be used in our future profession.  After her attempt at ‘playing an action’ the rest of the class took turns doing something that I have  never, in my 10 years of working in this business done.   We openly critiqued and discussed this person’s work IN FRONT OF HER.  We were basically given permission to either (uncommonly) praise or.....  more importantly and unfortunately NOT praise our classmate’s work.  So, basically, one of the main things I learned was how to watch another actor’s work specifically for the purpose of picking it apart, looking for what was wrong, and thinking how “I,” the all-knowing expert of all acting, would do it.  I don’t remember having any problem with this as a Freshman.... or... well,  until a few years ago.   Then, once again, something changed.  I’m an ever-changing kind of guy!  What can I say?  

At some point in the last, however many years, I became highly irritated with how judgmental I was.  I was no longer able to go see a broadway show without feeling like I was back in my freshman class at school waiting my turn to critique the shit out it.   Let me remind you.... I was WATCHING the broadway show....which usually means that I was NOT IN ONE at the time! Who the fuck was I?  Who did I think I was?   I’ll tell you,  from the perspective of me now.... I was an insecure asshole, ridden with self-entitlement, trying my hardest to feel better about myself by bringing other’s down.  Now, I’m not saying that my critiques about shows and performances weren’t spot on, well thought out, intelligently composed, articulate, and New York Times worthy... but the fact that I had these negative things spewing out of me unsolicited, said much more about myself then the work itself.  There I was.... focusing on the bad.  Focusing on the bad so much, that I found myself looking for it.  And when you are spending so much time during a performance looking for the bad, you’re bound to miss all the good.  Well that’s just not fair to anyone!  Is is possible to change a habit so deeply ingrained in your brain? As funny as I sometimes think I can be, the gales of laughter coming from my fellow listeners couldn’t drown out the sound of my insecurity and guilt pulsing through my veins. This must end!

Introduce:  Leslie McDonel.  To go into detail of how inspirational this fine actress is would take an entire entry of its own, so I will just say....I am blessed to have met this person.  So, in keeping with this entry, one day when having a talk with this angel of amazing-ness she said one of many enlightening things that have resonated within my loins.  “The best learn from the best.”  I think the context of the conversation was about taking a class or finding a voice teacher.... or something,  but in the past 2 years since meeting Leslie, I have taken that one saying and applied it to my judgement issues.  Now, I am sure I could argue that just saying someone is “the best” implies judging that other’s aren’t as good, but I am choosing to use it as a positive tool. A tool to look for the best in people.  I am constantly looking to improve and learn, and now, having adopted this, i guess you could call it a philosophy, I am moving, ever so slowly, toward looking for the best in people.... as an attempt to learn from them and grow. And  I think it is working. 

The other night, I got two free tickets to see the broadway show In The Heights.  I had a great time, and loved the show!  There were a few times where, yes, I was being a smidge judgy about a few things... but....  most of the time... I was just at the edge of my seat, looking for the best in everyone. I was even trying to find the best part of the one lazy female ensemble dancer. (Hey...it’s hard to change completely that fast!!!  COME ON!) um..... she looked good in hoochie shorts.  There... I said the positive.  During intermission, I was standing in a small group, and low and behold....  these people were letting some of the actors HAVE IT!  “horrible”  this...  “terrible” that....  “I can’t belive” ... blah blah blah.... Normally, I probably would have been very active in this conversation, but this time I just couldn’t take part.  I had to excuse myself from the group and go talk to the lovely young person who got me the tickets.  I would say, this is a step in the right direction.   I may not be able to choose my initial reaction, but I have the choice not to be a miserable prick. I am saying "NO" to prick. I am going to look for the best. I am not going to allow my insecurities to turn me into an arrogant asshole who uses every opportunity to trash talk my peers.  My peers who are probably going through the same trials and tribulations as I am in this business.  I am, however, going to choose to allow myself to be inspired by the hard work and success of others....the positives.....   The Best learn from the Best! I want to be the best!  And now, when I go see a show, I’m going to look for the best....   so don’t fuck up!  ooops... DAMN!   

Why can’t anything just be easy!?  

Now I just need to go see more shows and see if this is working!   Anyone want to buy me some tickets?  I'm unemployed!

My coffee just hit my bowels....   gotta go! 

Ven