Prepare Ye The Way of My Fate

The next day, the boy met the old man at noon.  He brought six sheep with him.

“I’m surprised,” the boy said.  “My friend bought all the other sheep immediately.  He said that he had always dreamed of being a shepherd, and that it was a good omen.”

“That’s the way it always is,” said the old man.  “It’s called the principle of favorability.  When you play cards the first time, you are almost sure to win. Beginner’s luck.”

“Why is that?”

“Because there is a force that wants you to realize your Personal Legend; it whets your appetite with a taste of success.”

–The Alchemist, by Paulo Coelho

Mom dropped me off at the side door of Bourne High School.  I was petrified.  It was September 9th (or 6th, 7th, or 8th- I can’t remember exactly) of 2001.  I was fourteen.  I had just endured my first week of high school, and now I was about to really put myself in a vulnerable position.

On the way in, I passed by my good acquaintance/almost friend, Stephen.  “Awesome,” I thought, “he’s not that popular or cool!  Maybe …”

“Stephen!” (I remember this being abrupt, unprecedented, and awkward) “Are you auditioning for Godspell?”

I was filled with hope.

“No, I have soccer.”

I was no longer filled with the aforementioned hope.

It was official.  I was in this alone.

I proceeded to the auditorium and entered the theatre from the back of the house.  Later, I would notice that the rest of the future cast all entered from the stage door.  There hadn’t even been an opening night yet and already, I had screwed up my first entrance.

The people in the room were faces I at least recognized.  Among others were Steven (a different one), who had made fun of me in a pool that summer for pointing my toes when I did water handstands; Arielle, who was, simply put, the most talented human being ever; and Kyle, who had wowed the crowd during his dance solo in West Side Story the previous year.  I remember sitting in the audience during that show, watching Kyle’s legs padabore, split leap, and straddle jump, imagining my future as his “almost-as-talented-girlfriend.”  Now that I have completed my BFA degree in Theatre Arts (woot woot, Salem State!  Hollerrr to your alma materr), I now know that when any man padabores, split leaps, and/or straddle jumps into your life, you don’t introduce him to mom and dad; you introduce him to your best friend’s brother.

I remember the audition being fun.  It was a group thing.  We danced, we improvised, we embodied sick, guilty, evil, bound, blind, and stained, we learned songs together … But, the best part was when the miracle happened.

It was a musical, so eventually, I was going to have to sing all. by. my. self. GULP.  I had no training yet, and wanting to sing was something only my best friend, Meghan, and I had known.

Whatever.  The miracle.

I will never understand what happened.  All I know was it wasn’t an earthly thing.  I know that I opened my mouth….The notes and lyrics of “Day by Day” literally floated out of my mouth, but the strangest part was that I didn’t feel them even graze my throat, mouth, or tongue.  They existed, but I didn’t feel like I was even singing.  I remember thinking, “what the hell is happening?”  My body was possessed from the stomach, up. Reagan, the drama club’s football player/personal teddy bear grabbed my elbow when the song was over.  “You’re good,” he said, “you’re really good.”

And it never happened again.

Literally.

That winter, my Wizard of Oz audition consisted of me standing on stage, wondering where my voice went.  During the call of Anything Goes, rather than “Take Me Back to Manhattan,” it was “Take Me Back to … Where?  Oh Gee, You’ll Never Know Because I Can’t Seem to Squeak Out the Words In An Audible Manner.”  Into The Woods auditions were hell.  When those bad larrys were over, I jumped into my Dad’s pickup truck, demanded that he “step on it,” and wouldn’t talk, but couldn’t help but cry.  We still have the mug, decorated with the words, “hug,” “squeeze,” “love,” etc. that served as a consolation gift for the temporary death of my pride.

“When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you achieve it.” –The Alchemist, by Paulo Coehlo

If it wasn’t for my beginner’s luck that day in early September, I never would have read that letter we got from the woman who was particularly moved by our performance, I never would have seen the tears pouring down one audience member’s face as we carried Jesus through the aisle at the end of the play, and most importantly, I never would have experienced that monumental moment that would single handedly define the rest of my life, awakening me to the fact that theatre was what’s to be done, and I will do whatever to ensure I do this forever.

(I also would have never CRASHED into that audience member as I threw flips down the aisle that second weekend of performances, but that’s a stumble for another bumble …)

And now, a blast to the past!

If I’m The Newbie Actor now, I guess you could say, here I was The Prenatal Actor.  2nd Grade.  I played the secretary in The Principle’s New Clothes (on the left).

In 3rd grade, I was in a huge production called, The All Star Review.  We lined up by height.  I was literally the shortest (1st Row, far left).

I was Marci in a Charlie Brown number during said All Star Review (holding ice cream cone).

Again, as Marci in The All Star Review Charlie Brown number.

And finally, our promo photo for Godspell!  Sigh.  Lifechanging.  I still love this cast (front left w/ bandana).

More Godspell! You can find me on the left side holding a pot of flowers.

Oh memories!  Isn’t it weird how the the bug seems to bite artists at an extra early age? This post was fun.  Your turn 🙂  How did you start, lovelies?

Onwards and Upwards,