Sleepless Dreams are Anything but Figurative

I had a very important audition last weekend.

One I've been waiting for for years (literally, I submitted for it in 2008).

Yet, the process of the audition made me less inclined to be a part of the project I so desperately desired.

Sometimes, the things you think will be are not what you thought. And that is good.

My life is changing yet staying momentarily the same. Stuck in the same pattern of events through at least July. I have promised myself not to commit to anything after July in order to create a moment for me. My mind. And to see. To see a lot of things both then, in the future & in me. 

There are a 1000 [figurative] things I want to do with my life. And what I am slowly discovering being slapped in the face with, is that doing one or two of the things I want may not allow me to do the 998 other [figurative] things I want to do before I don't have a life with which to do anything. 

At what point do you give up one dream to fulfill another. 

At what point does working so hard for one dream turn it into a waking nightmare. 

That is. When I get the chance to sleep long enough to dream. 

I'm not giving up. I'll never give up. On my dreams. But as I grow into my ripe age of 24.5, my dreams seem to be changing. Maturing? And really, the ultimate goal of life, my life, is to laugh. To be happy. To be stressed in a way that drives me. To try new things everyday. To make new friends and keep old ones close. To read. Everything. To learn as much as I can. To share. To feel [be] healthy. To love. To be able to stand in funny bendy poses unwavering. To make a big family. To take care of lost dogs. To take pictures. To dance. To love waking up in the morning even when it's too early. To sing. To not worry I'm missing out on one thing because I'm doing another.

To do 1000 [figurative] things.  

And the way my life is set up right now. It is all figurative. Not only my distant future but what I would like to do today. Tomorrow. This weekend. 

And I am tired of living a figurative life. I want a literal life. 

And that's what I'll have.

...

By the end of July. 

...Possibly early August. 

I [can] dream. Anyway.

Getting in the Ring with Life

Beginning work on a new show. Well an Olde Show. With an 'e'.

King Lear. With the Antaeus Theatre Company.

An opportunity sent across my desk via email. A company once recommended to me. A noteworthy director. So, an Assistant Director I became. Again.

Unpaid.

Again.

40 hours a week.

Again.

A year ago I was doing the same. 40 hours of work. 40 hours of rehearsal.

A year ago I was loving it. Appreciating it.

This year is harder.

My body is more tired.
My mind is more tired.
My emotions are running rampant.

Never truly convinced this is all worth it.

Appreciating the opportunity but not sure how the unquantifiable learning experience will benefit a still yet unquantifiable career.

What if doing everything it takes to do what I want causes me to hate everything about the thing I've always wanted to do.

I feel myself drifting that direction.

Not drifting.

Being bullied toward it.

Into a corner.

By life.

Bullied by life. How do you take on that bully.

Stand up? Or just walk away.

I've always been one to punch a bully in the face.

Not sure life would like it.

Life would probably punch back.

Good thing I know how to Parry.

Next up. A Right Hook.