Keep Art Alive :: “Feathered” :: Art by Kelly Haigh
I remember falling in love with acting, with performing, with the sound of my own voice echoing from the walls of a stage, with the sound of applause, and, most of all…most definitely of all…being able to slip into the skin and words of someone else. To lose myself in a role, to be disguised, to be seen as someone so far away from me, the freedom in that was like a drug – contagious, addictive, and divine.
I sat around with the other “actors“. I admired them more than I ever let on. I sat there, day-after-day, on the edge of their looks and lashes, listening to everything they had to say. I breathed it in. I loved the way that it felt like finally fitting somewhere; I wanted to fit, so badly.
Part of me grew in the realm of the theater, blossomed, and developed into someone who was not afraid of her own shadow anymore. I spoke with a brazen speed and sound, laughed aloud, and dove right into the script pages, the open curtains, and the applause. But, there was a darker part of , the side of me that was always so full of self-judgment. The voice inside with the pen and paper and fat red pen, jotting down my mistakes, marking through my flaws, x-mark-the-spotting my trap doors. I let that voice take front row center, gave her a VIP passport, and let her overtake the vision of who I was. She laughed at me in my mirrored reflection, told me lies< said you want everyone to love you, but look at you.
And, I fell.
I wanted the arms of those around me to swoop me up and save me. I wanted them to flood me with confidence, lift me back up. I wanted to be a star; we all do, do we not? I wanted to not hear that voice anymore. I wanted to be able to see me, and not want to destroy what the “me” that I saw.
I was at a loss. I could not find the solution, not without an exit stage left, so, I exited, I disappeared, I left it all behind.
Sometimes I still miss it, deep within me, yes, I miss it.
Writing and music, they fuel me much deeper, I think. They gift me the parameters and boxes of layers and costumes to try on, to step into and explore…and create. I think this is what I was more suited towards, where my confidence lies, where I feel my strength and abilities contrast, collide, and become something. I know most of what I write is made up of rambling thoughts and reflections on feelings, more often than not inspired by song (music ever the muse), but I try to get it out there – everyday a little more – and if nothing else I am leaving an ink-stained (or keyboard stroked) legacy of something of me.
Mr. Jones :: Counting Crows
“We all want to be big, big stars,
but we got different reasons for that.”