Look who was reviewed for her amazing performance at Carnegie Hall by the New York Times?
Why hello, it’s my old friend Julia! I remember when we were in elementary school together and did this terrible school musical about crayons. I distinctly remember my role: I was Cowboy Blue #2. I’m going to call her Paula Dean Butter Yellow #1.
Here she is now stunning audiences and critics in the Big Apple. So proud. So happy for her well-deserved success. And so so jealous.
I don’t know if anyone has seen the film, ‘The adjustment Bureau’- it came out last year, starring Matt Damon and Emily Blunt. Blunt plays a dancer with the amazing Cedar Lake Contemporary Dance Company. The film is a weird ‘what-if’ kind of scenario where some random Matrixish guys try to stop Damon from romantically pursuing Blunt because apparently if he does, she’ll settle down with him and not become the astounding dancer she’s (according to their timeline/ life line) supposed to be. I distinctly remember the
life-coach guards saying to Damon, ‘If you don’t let her be, she’ll end up teaching skipping to 8 year olds”
The way he said it, what I currently do is I guess something to look down upon. And even to me, in some ways, isn’t it?
Don’t get me wrong, I love teaching. Most of the time, I like what I’m doing and who I think I am- and then I get these crushing feelings that it isn’t even close to enough. I hate feeling like I didn’t turn out to be the dancer I wanted to be, and now I’ worried that maybe I’m not even that great of a teacher or writer.
I ran into a fellow teacher on Saturday who taught a few master classes for the company I was with last year on the stairs as we were both on our way to teach and she said, ‘Oh so you’re teaching now? Well, it’s never easy but you shouldn’t give up. You’re very talented’. If it weren’t for the fact that I had to immediately go teach a high-energy version of ‘Sing Sing Sing’ to a bunch of musical theatre-enthusiast teens, I probably would have cried. Those little unexpected nuggets of encouragement almost make me feel worse because they give me a glimmer of what I’ve always thought I was supposed to be, wanted to be, and then decided I couldn’t be.
I’m kind of thinking I should not publish this, because wow do I sound like an egomaniac, competitive, b-i-t-c-h. I started this thinking I would share the good news about a talented, hard-working person I really love and I’ve just ended up complaining about my own lack of spotlight.
You know what botanists should invent? A prickly plant that only blooms under theatre lights- no UV rays necessary- just give it a good hit of pink gels from a boom in the wings. Cross breed a Snap-Dragon, a Venus Fly Trap,any cliché diva wannabe, and A rose– and call it a Jessica Somebody. Or better yet, call it a ‘What’s-her-face’. Put three in a room, and only put light on one- watch it become something truly exquisite. Watch one decide that it’s fine to never flower and go about it’s plantly business with relative peace. Finally watch the last one twisting about like some indecisive recognition driven freak, striving to be something, completely unsure of how to get ‘there’. Then please just put it out of it’s misery and put in a vase.