Yesterday, I went to Barnes and Noble in Sioux Falls—mainly to get a change of scenery from the plush couch at home (and to get away from the monster that is Samson—this pup thinks he’s a lap dog and needs someone to constantly pet him. It’d be okay if he was only 7 pounds. He’s not. He’s at least 55 pounds).
I can spend quite a long time perusing shelves and tables at a bookstore. This fall and winter, I subscribed to quite a few lit blogs and would devour any article that came my way via twitter or Google reader.
This doesn’t happen anymore.
Yesterday, I promptly went to the café, ordered a drink, and started a new book from my “Monster Reading List.” That was about it. I glanced at some books on the main path, but I didn’t diverge. I have no need for more books and I don’t have time for them.
Life has changed. It is changing.
Now, it’s not a 180 or anything, but some habits and other comforts are dripping away—bit by bit. I packed up most of my books in my room. They’re sitting in tubs and will remain unread for quite some time. It’s okay. One day, they shall join a comprehensive Library of Tim. For now, it’s all about training and prepping for grad school. I don’t think it’s worth lugging them around for the next two years.
I use Google Reader for blog subscriptions. Lately, I’ve been on a media diet. I’m quite happy to click on a feed and select “unsubscribe.” If I find that I’ve been skipping or skimming a particular blog’s content on a repeated basis, it gets the axe. If I were to have done this a year ago, such an action would be met with such a ridiculous sense of guilt. But not anymore. I even gave up Tumblr. That site did me no favors.
(For those of you who exclusively use Tumblr, I have put your feeds in my Google Reader. But I would find myself on these “following binges” for strangers who post quirky, fun things and it starting becoming such a waste of time.)
It’s liberating to focus my energies on necessities. Sure, there are still diversions. I think those are healthy and necessary. And believe me, I have my fair share of diversions. But it’s become increasingly easy to cut away the muck that isn’t useful.
This is also coming to terms with a life in art, particularly acting.
Robert Lewis said in a lecture on clarifying Stanislavski’s system:
“Performing dancers, singers, violinists—especially great ones—study and practice all their lives. And the finer their equipment the more technique they need to support it.”
There seems to be a wonder from acting and theatre folks why actors don’t have this sense of life-long discipline about their art. I’m generalizing, and I don’t wish to discredit those who have made such a commitment. But there are plenty of people who make a career out of acting and don’t hone their chops (I'm sure there are even musicians and other artists who coast by as well). I’ve read quotes like this from a number of sources. I have some ideas on why the acting world has such a wide spectrum of skill and technique—that can be saved for another blog post.
In any case, I’m sensing a shift already. This life of studying and practice begins NOW. I knew it would happen. I mean, I’m bracing myself for a kind of seismic shift to happen once I drive into Houston with all my stuff. That’s bound to happen. But I’m starting to get a sense of what exactly this training and the M.F.A. is going to mean in a more...I dunno—tangible—way.
It's exciting, quite a bit freaky, but mostly awesome.
Okay, enough of this blathering. I've got some monologues to find.
No comments:
Post a Comment