Progress...

Thrives on little victories and short term goals. Today I got the March test results of one of my Kaplan SAT students, who has just received an 800 on math and brought his overall SAT score up a total of 300 points.

There's something constant in the ebb and flow of subway trains as they sweep you along the course of your life. It's soothing, even, a balm to the scratchy edges of a New York soul. Even though a man on the 6 train stepped on my toes, and it's 35 degrees and raining, I can see stars glimmering through the orange haze of streetlights on my block.

Tonight, life is beautiful.

Bill Clinton Just Smiled At Me in Buddakan

Enough said

Met Opera Audition - Supernumerary to the Rescue!

I'm still vibrating with nervy excitement after my Don Giovanni audition for Tony award-winning director Michael Grandage in the bowels of the Metropolitan Opera House.

I felt very profesh, walking right up to the Metropolitan Opera stage door - they announced my name and had someone come to chaperone me and everything! On my way down the spiraling staircases, I passed two massive timpani drums, an antique looking set of leather luggage with J. Levine inscribed on it, a tech rehearsal of Wozzeck, and a vocal rehearsal for the newest installment of Wagner's Ring series. My handler Richard got into the fun of pointing out everyone and everything that we passed along the convoluted path to the audition room.

It was hard not to feel overrun by frenetic enthusiasm - just to be in the building, surrounded by glorious arias ringing through the hallways and the raw magnetism of stage props, intimidatingly large baritones, and super burly but gregarious stage hands.

The audition itself was something else. We were asked to prepare a minute-long improvisational scene as a woman at a window trying to attract the attention of men passing by. Once we met the director, he took it a step further and asked us to imagine ourselves as workers in the red light district, growing increasingly more desperate as no one stopped to "look at the wares." Epic!

As per usual, I was almost obnoxiously friendly and exhuberant while shaking Mr.Grandage's hand.... he certainly held on to it for a long time and I hooope that was a good thing. There were four girls in the room at a time, no music, no noise other than the slightly off kilter ticking of the studio clock, and a panel of three dudes (two companionably gay and well wishing, the third of questionable intent). 

They just sat there. And stared.

Since I've got some inspiring hotties in my life, I fell into the role with focus and determination. Who KNOWS what will come of it, but at least I got a fantastic core work out, had a lot of fun, and got to toss my hair around and wink at Mr. Grandage.

Cross your fingers for me!!!

Love,

A Broadway Baby

Rediscover Wonder

The ability to express yourself + the courage to do it = finding a way to connect with the world around you 

http://www.hulu.com/watch/225645/tedtalks-sarah-kay-if-i-should-have-a-daughter#s-p1-sr-i0

How Ballet Can Change Your Life

Chronic pain can become so routine that you hardly notice it after a time. Any change to that routine, however small, can be so dynamically exciting that you feel like a beam of sunshine radiates through your bones, instilling warmth and hope where before there was a grim acceptance slowly spiraling into futility.

Sometimes all you need is a great dance class to (literally) lift your spirits.

Faced with having to leave dance behind forever, my determination has kicked into hyperdrive. Looking to people like my mother and my dancer friends - who have overcome seemingly impossible odds to keep doing what they love - I've found inspiration to work my way back into ballet, painstakingly reshaping my muscles, sinew by sinew. Through the grace of a few classes of smaller size, combined with particularly attentive instructors, I've realized that my back and hip injuries are not as dauntingly untreatable as western medicine considered them to be. By breaking some very bad dance habits, the injuries keeping me from auditions can actually be avoided by others and perhaps even resolved in my case.

Courtesy of Wesley at Steps, and Koppel at BDC, these critical tips have given me new agency, and I urge other dancers to employ them as soon as possible to avoid injury!

• In posse, pull the heel up toward the nose (this focus helps you to engage the hamstring and to prevent over engaging the quads)
• Lead with the heel for almost every movement in ballet. Do NOT grip the quad or the hip flexor, because this causes grinding and forces an unnatural turn out.
• Improve turn out by working to connect the backs of the heels. Squeeze the inner thighs together.
• Pull up out of the hip with the upper body, pull away from the pelvis with the lower body. Initiate every movement (plie, degage, grand plie, tendue, developpe, etc) from the heels
• In fifth position, the weight needs to be slightly forward, and distributed equally in the balls of the feet without gripping the toes (this guy can improve the way you walk for ever!). **One should be able to releve by lifting the heels easily from fifth if this balance is attained**
• To attain the perfect plie: do NOT lead with the knees. Instead, press the heels down into the floor, engaging the dorsal muscles of the leg. Press down into the ground with the heels to return from plie, the rest of the leg will follow!

Anyone who, like me, has been taught to tuck their pelvis probably has some extensive gripping in the hip tendons. Or extreme flexibility that is not healthfully supported by adequate muscle tone. These pearls of wisdom from my teachers have revolutionized the way I stand, move, and dance. Here's hoping that the addition of Alexander Technique to my regimen will make the lasting change I need.

Alvin Ailey auditions are in two weekends!!!!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XezU_P7vGx4

Adaptation

You are what you love, not what loves you.

Patrick, Chance Encounter Number 2

Dearest Mr. Demarchelier,

At the risk of being irrevocably sketchy, we must stop meeting like this! Well... I suppose you haven't the foggiest idea who I am. I'm not perturbed, the third time's a charm... Next time we pass each other in the street, no more friendly waggling of the eyebrows. I shall introduce myself and we'll become friends for life!

Admiringly yours,
A Broadway Baby

Coveted - The Dream Work Study Position

Today's focus: how to afford all the technique classes one needs to stay competitive in this industry. 

Figuring out how to maintain a budget that enables you to afford your apartment, your food, your dance classes, and your headshots can be a challenge when you're struggling to make it as a performer in this city. Fortunately for the New York dancer, there are many different avenues to pursue!

For ease of experience, friendly coworkers, and a central location, Broadway Dance Center (www.broadwaydancecenter.com) offers an ideal work study program. At BDC, there is no cost to sign up beyond the purchase of an affordable "Crew" member shirt. The program involves a two-hour orientation and two three hour trainings. For each of these introductory periods, dancers receive one class at an incredibly discounted rate per HOUR of their presence in the studio). Once you are assigned a position, whether it be at the front desk, reception, the store, or cleaning crew, you can suddenly afford 4 classes for the price of one. Fantastic!

As much as I love and will always be loyal to BDC for their commendable customer service and lovely employees, I have to admit that the diverse class schedule offered at Steps often lures me away. Be warned: do not expect the warm welcome that you will find at BDC amongst these. After spending weeks trying to pin down the work study coordinator for an interview, you must pay a $15 fee, be oriented, and train for 10+ hours. You will receive no discounted classes for these hours at the studio. After receiving a position, you must make a lifetime membership payment of $25 in order to be involved in work study.

After months of going back and forth with She Who Must Not Be Named at Steps (yes that is a Voldemort comparison, she really is that icky...) I've honestly gotten to the point where I'd rather focus on work study and soaking up the positive vibes at BDC. Paying full price for a few classes at Steps feels like a bit of a bummer, but definitely worth it to avoid attitudes and dramz. In a business with as much rejection as we deal with on a daily basis, why add another source of negativity to the mix? That said, I know plenty of people who somehow manage to do both studios. I'll miss looking longingly at the ABT and NYCB dancers while I work at the front desk, but will settle for dancing next to them instead!

Whatever you decide, remember that working these opportunities into your daily schedule requires careful deliberation of your priorities. To maintain membership in Steps' work study program, you have to work 8-10 hours per week... not easy to fit in when you're trying to balance a job or two and audition schedules. At BDC, you only work one 3-4 hour shift. If neither of those studios gives you quite the modern fix you need, there's always work study opportunities at the indefatigable Alvin Ailey Dance Theatre as well as similar programs at other studios throughout New York City.

If it comes down to needing an affordable gym membership, never fear! You can get a year's worth of gym memberships at half the price of a typical membership by being crafty about new member deals & student IDs. New York City Sports Club has a one-time-only 30 days for $30 program, Crunch gym (and their competitors) has a free week, Yoga Vida in Union Square is liberal with their Student ID class rates, Groupon & Living Social often offer month or week long work out programs (e.g. Bikram Yoga, Pilates studios) at incredibly discounted prices.

For the really crafty performer, you can finagle a free gym membership by working only a few days a week, or even just a few days a month at a gym as either a lifeguard, a personal trainer, or a teacher of a specific type of dance or aerobic class (go for Equinox if this sounds right for you... dreamy personal trainers, gorgeous facilities, and fantastic fitness classes).

Navigating the New York performer waters can be overwhelming - if you can't get the woman at Steps right away, do NOT give up, you must call her once a week until she relents to meet with you - but with focus and determination you can and will find the right port in the storm to bring balance to your hectic schedule!

What I did for love

First day of spring and it's snowing here in New York.

My Friday love affair with 70 degree weather has ended with an incredibly cold shoulder.

Probably in part because of the gray mist lacing my windows, today I feel bummed out about the fact that I am still having difficulty dancing without pain. It's been a challenge to accept that the jobs that were only intended for my survival now consume the most time and energy out of my life.

Floor barre is making things easier, but the motivated and inspiring people in my life are the true reason that these past few months have been bearable. My heart goes out to my ladies who are always game for wine night and girly TV, Thai Market runs, and cooking dinner instead of going out. Cheers to the men who bring me food and share my ice cream.

I am so proud of my friends, who go out day after day and sing or dance their little hearts out, but have yet to land the job they dream of. Rejection is a very real truth in this industry. You may hear 100 no's before you get your first yes, but you have to keep going out there, despite the adversity you face. This week shall henceforth be the week of singing calls. Get 'er done.

Despite the struggles and the frustration and the pain, the promise of that eventual yes plus the strength and support of my closest friends give me the fortitude to keep pushing forward.

RENT Open Call... 525,600...

PEOPLE. Not minutes. People. That is what Rent gave me this morning.

So, methought that I would go sign up at this morning's Rent open call tres early, and then go take floor barre at Steps, sing for the casting peeps, and go to work.

Lo and behold, I arrive on the scene to find a cattle call of most EPIC proportions. There were people who had clearly slept in sleeping bags in the wee hours of the morning to make sure they would be seen. Obviously I was unable to stay and wait, given my other obligations, but a friend of mine was number 799, likely out of 1000. God bless those casting people.

This is not the norm. I have seen some seemingly indomitable cattle calls in my day (500 people at Hair last summer, 600 people vying for space at an open call of South Pacific). Part of me was astounded by how RIDICULOUS it seemed. The other part of me must grudgingly acknowledge that those sleeping baggers show the mark of determination that can make the difference between you getting into a show or not. More power to them. (Must remember on the days when sleeping sounds so much better than waking up at 5am to get to an audition).

Finally, here are some funnies to go along with the sunny springtime of this beautiful day:

http://www.losteyeball.com/index.php/2007/06/19/56-worstbest-analogies-of-high-school-students/

Lots of love,

Why, Yes, Patrick Demarchelier...

It IS a gorgeous spring day here in New York.

What a pleasure to run in to you at my work!

<3

Saga of the New York Mouse

Living in the darkest corners in the tiniest spaces of the city, dwell the pests that cannot be beat.

Mine is a she-demon of a tiny mouse who I've taken to calling Pierre.

Pierre is not like a cute Ratatouille critter that makes me breakfast and can teach me how to cook. Pierre is a full grown nuisance that cannot be stopped.

I first learned that Pierre was a girl and not a boy when - to my dismay - I found four little baby mice rustling around in an empty trash bag early one morning. Fortunately I got them in a clean sweep: tied the bag shut, ran to the trash can at the end of the block to let them go, and managed to maintain a high pitched, low decibel extended squeal while holding the little squirmy things as far away from me as possible as I ran.

After all that, the heartless creature couldn't be bothered to go look for her babies, but stayed to plague me instead. 

I first took the path of pacifist. Against my exterminator's better judgment, I bought the traps that just involve a door closing in on the mouse, no death. I can only image she scoffed at them as she maneuvered around it to get at my trash.

Next came the glue traps. And the poison pellets. The weird sprays. The foam to plug her little escape routes.

Pierre was nonplussed, and by all evidence, alive and well.

Finally, as a last resort, I did what my friends and the exterminator had advised me all along. I got the snap traps and bated them (apparently peanut butter and chocolate work much better than cheese).

To no avail. Now, four months later, Pierre continues to thrive off of my largess.

Sometimes she even comes out of her nebulous lair to sit in the middle of my dining room floor, for funzies, you know to say hi.

And she STARES at me. As if to say, hey, you tried your best, you let my babies go into the world, but I remain.

Inadvertently, I have contributed to the evolution of a new species, the supermousus New Yorkus: uncatchable fiends that fly over glue traps and cannot be tricked or willed or muscled into submission. At this point, I've just had to recognize a worthy adversary and accept with reluctance our symbiotic situation.

It could be worse. At least Pierre is not a cockroach!

The Matter of Modesty, Part Deux

Weekend ruminations on the theme...

We've all heard it before: it's know what you know, but who. Over the course of several days, the universe has managed to slap me in the face with the stinging reality of nepotism - repeatedly and without any ado whatsoever.

My agent friends and casting intern buddies have revealed that much of the casting process relies on careful attention of directors and producers to how a person presents him or herself. Do you seem like a person they would actually want to work with? Are you consistent in the audition room, so you'd be consistent at rehearsal and later onstage?

One of my favorite dancer-agent-teacher friends would agree; he once said that once he got behind the casting table, he realized that most casting people have a sense within a few moments of seeing you whether or not they would want to hire you. Ideally, after you're noticed, you just have to make sure you don't mess up the choreo or the scene and you're in!

In this industry, it is all too easy to conflate one's sense of self with one's art. Maintaining clear degrees of separation in your life is the only way to combat drowning in the fickle maelstrom of it all. In some auditions, they will love you. They'll ask you for two, maybe three more songs or scenes and talk contracts, contingent on your attendance at the next day's dance call. Then, not more than an hour later at another audition, a casting team may hear you sing the best 8 bars of your life, and respond with a polite-yet-dismissive thank you.

I recently had a music video audition - a la "Love the Way You Lie" fame - where I did a scene four times at the request of  these two gorgeous black men. They seemed to love it, we had great chemistry, but a few days later they emailed me that while they thought I was fantastic, I didn't get the part. But they do still want me - as an extra. At this stage, can't be picky.... Gotta rack up those resume credits!

At the end of the day, most people can tell when a casting director sees something in you that interests them. The more difficult analysis becomes how to isolate, reproduce, and improve upon whatever it is that they like.

Herein lies the catalyst of the natural evolution in this Broadway Baby's thought process. Sheer will drove my first few months. I ignored the bad, embraced the good, and blazed past doubts, exhaustion, and two broken toes. These days, the regular call-backs from dance auditions have shifted to novel terrain. While I battle the New York Winter and an old lady's back problem, I've shifted by necessity to straight play auditions, music videos, and EPAs (Equity Principal Auditions). All singing and acting - no dancing. I'm a bit out of my element. It's been hard - I miss moving - and there are less frequent call backs.

However, all the eagerness, hope, and frenetic energy of my first several months of auditioning have begun to give way to resilience and patience. These are easily the two most important virtues that anyone who wants to get through the trenches of this business MUST learn; although the lessons that cemented them in my psyche have not always been the easiest to stomach.

Balancing self-magnification with modesty will continue to be a challenge, but hard work, determination, and slow but steady progress make the scales a little less heavy.

Off to more modeling shoots tomorrow! Yay money!

The Matter of Modesty

Somewhere between coffee number 2, coordinating my Kaplan teaching schedule, and facilitating the daily PR whirlwind at L+F, I realized that the most significant intellectual relationship in my life is a consuming, heady, butterflies-in-the-stomach love for the NYTimes opinion column.

Today's contribution by David Brooks only confirmed my passion, which has blossomed over four years of New York Today, Arts, and Politics email blasts from NYT. In The Modesty Manifesto, Brooks put voice - er, pen - to the thoughts that have been pinballing around my brain for the past several months:

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/03/11/opinion/11brooks.html?nl=todaysheadlines&emc=tha212

You may be wondering how on earth Brooks' article about the American citizen's [d]evolution away from modesty and toward overconfidence relates to trying to be a dancer/singer/actress on Broadway.

What it comes down to is this: how to balance self magnification without losing sight of your better virtues?

Magnification of the self is crucial for a Broadway hopeful to find success. Let's be real, look at Wall Street, medical schools, the fashion world; it's kind of critical everywhere!

To sing in a way that is hire-able, you must literally magnify your voice to be heard above a piano in an audition room; later to be heard over an entire orchestra in a show. Whether in class, in an audition studio, or on stage, you must dance (and act) with the most intense life and passion you can muster. Your challenge is also your most substantial declaration of love: to direct all of your energy the person in the last row of the theatre, in partial view, who has risked the nosebleed section (as well as significant eye strain) to come see you perform.

People hear Broadway and think: Jazz Hands, Falsies, Drag Queens, Campy Grins, a little arachnoid catastrophe here (so sad, Julie!), a little rock star pregnancy controversy there (gross, Constantine), but everything screams EXTREMES.

Yet when you want to retain the respect and interest of casting directors and choreographers, extremes can be the end of you! I've seen it in action, a dancer gets over-confident and showy, eats up space in the room, and the directors are disgusted. A singer goes diva and loses the allegiance of her conductor (therefore her whole orchestra) and stage hands (no curtain call, indeed).

Commanding attention is key, but transgress the fine line between confidence and cockiness, and things start to get ugly!

Pragmatism

Dealing with an injury is perhaps one of the most debilitating struggles a dancer can face. My muscles remember what they used to be capable of... my body wants so badly to be allowed to do what feels most natural. I miss having the strength, energy, and physical health to be able to do what I love whenever and wherever I want.

After months of doctor's visits, rest, and acupuncture, I've come to the devastating realization that I have to stop auditioning altogether for at least a month. I have to try to figure out what is going on with my back and how to fix it.

Because of the way my health insurance is currently structured, I have no coverage for physical therapy or MRIs or really any medical services out here in New York. I'm one of the lucky ones who found an affordable outlet for treatment out of pocket, but acupuncture alone has not been enough.

The month of March is going to be my last stand to resolve my back pain.

No dance auditions until April 1st. In the mean time, I am taking floor barre several times a week. Wesley at Steps on Broadway is fantastic... she reminds me of everything positive about my dance training.  Equal parts drill sergeant and empathetic, quirky grandmother-like personage, Wesley has helped me slowly, painstakingly strengthen all the muscles that have any influence or relationship to my lower back. It's been enlightening. I've learned completely new approaches to movement, revamped my turn out, even realized that my injuries have probably been caused by the fact that my dance instruction has enabled me to develop some serious bad habits.

My love goes out to a dancer friend who just had an invasive, intense back surgery yesterday. His example is a constant reminder to do everything that I can to take care of myself before drastic action is the only remaining alternative I have.

At 22, I could still have several years of functional dance-ability left...  I have to make a dynamic change now while there is still time and hope for repair. I am determined that this effort will change the tides in my favor. Let's see come April 1st!

Really, Harvard? I mean, REALLY?!

Ok so I had an interesting weekend.

Saturday day offered a surprising (sunny and in the 60s!) reprieve from this brooding winter. My Upper East Side SAT class had our last session  - sob - so we celebrated with a little party and a LOT of food.

Then there was my opera adventure in the West Village; tres passionant.

Because I decided that one can't jam-pack too much into one day, I went with the lovely Reanna (potential life partner #1, if onlyyyy I was a man) to see Paul Taylor. The show was interesting enough - certainly not comparable to the soul and clarity of extension at Alvin Ailey - but a fun romp down modern dance history lane, regardless.

You'd think, all in all, a great, fun-filled day in the city of New York, right?

WRONG.

I haaad to top off my evening by attending this party in Gramercy. It was the birthday party for the semi-significant other of my dear, dear friend and namesake. She happens to be potential life partner #2; after we get married, we might start a ukulele band! Due to ambiguous character of the semi-significant other, it was necessary to go on reconnaissance. 

The food was cupcakes, the beverages were diverse, and the company was very, very rogue (i.e. mostly hovering around the 30 year age bracket). There was a baby, some hipsters, an Andrew Garfield look-alike, a few Ivy Leaguers and several finance peeps. (A bit of overlap in those last two groups, of course). Also worth mentioning is the satin-suited magician who bent metal spoons and warped quarters with his [mind?] hands.

Oh and the fact that this was partly a pool party.

The birthday boy was actually a lovely young man! He opted to forgo gifts in exchange for having his friends donate to http://www.charitywater.org/ (a lovely cause, 100% of your donation goes specifically to the building of water wells, your money is not allocated to any administrative costs or anything like that).

All was going along swimmingly...

UNTIL I found myself caught in a Deathstar-like tractor beam of these two short Harvard alums. Thank GOD they were wearing clothes. They preceded to open with a line so obnoxious (We lost our card and the magician said you had it). And I could not prevent myself from asking, "So guys, what's your ideal outcome here?"

**What follows is a little snapshot of the episode, for a play I've just decided to write**


Their response? No goal in mind here, we're married!

Me: So ... where are your rings?

The two skeezy skeezes: Oh, our wives prefer that we don't wear them

InCREDULOUS me: "Really? I find that hard to believe. Your wife MUST have been joking when she  said that."  (Observe the shorter of the two skeeze balls, whose t-shirt proudly proclaims - I kid you not - Half Tiger DNA, Half Adonis genes, All Man)

 Skeezeball 1: No seriously! It's a new thing in marriages these days (Frantically evaluate all points of exit. Find self inextricably lodged between jacuzzi, wall, pool, and lifeguard chair. EFF.)

Skeezeball 2: So we've noticed you Columbia women are much more confident and outgoing than Harvard women. Why is that?


Me: (Am I actually having this conversation? Wake. Up.) I suppose the community drives you to develop a solid sense of who you are and what you want so that you can stand out. It probably has something to do with the fact that we learn at Columbia and play in one of the most diverse, vibrant metropolitan cities in the world.

Skeeze 2: So we've got a regular Simone de Beauvoir feminist here, hmm? (Skeeeze 2, the short and more heinous of the two, proceeds to BUTCHER a Simone de Beauvoir quote. Visibly wince)

Skeeze 1:Yeah, well, I always thought that being a Jew with a big d*&^ it would be easy for me to find my niche (Calm gag reflex as Skeeze 1 laughs at his own pun) at Harvard, but the women there are just much more frigid than you New Yorkers.
 
Me: (Pity laugh) I'm sure frigidity wasn't your problem. (Overwhelmed with relief) Oh look! (Distract the skeezes) the pool's closing! This has been enlightening. (Make a break for it!!) Must go!

As I'm leaving Skeeze 1: (confidingly intimate toward the fleeing Columbia grad) You've inspired me to make good on my New Year's Resolutions: reread my college texts, learn Spanish, and try not to cheat on my wife this year!

--

Thus concludes the sad tale of what happens when men have too much money, and not enough substance below the belt. I was so put off that I accidentally ran into the men's bathroom in my blind attempt to escape.

What disturbs me most about the whole episode is that this tag team schpeal has to have worked before, or else why on EARTH would they be so repulsively bold and self assured...

In conclusion, REALLY, Harvard? I mean, REALLY??

Et Voila... Practice Really Does Make Better!

While I haven't gotten to as many dance classes as I would have liked in the past week (meaning none - yes, GASP - I deserve it), I found today's voice lesson with my opera teacher a welcome buoy to my waterlogged spirits.

Today I sang through three octaves from f3 to g6 in my legit soprano voice, with no unnecessary air, no space, and no fatigue in the sound. With my teacher's tutelage and a little determination, two months of lessons has turned into Italian arias and This is My Beloved, from Kismet... probably the most challenging song I have ever undertaken. (That one's for you, Dad).

Here's the kicker - I almost didn't go.

As per usual the weekend subway schedule was on the fritz and I had just spent four hours teaching my kids at Life Sciences High School about the SAT. I wanted a nap! As much as my body and brain wanted to lie on my bed and shut down for the next few hours, the universe saw fit to send me a little determination - in the form of my SAT class.

Today's session was the last class; the grandaddy of review on all things SAT. When we got to the essay assignment, I felt a rush of emotion and argument brim to the forefront of my mind.

The question: "Should a person's worth be determined by their productivity?"

Such a question has long plagued me as I pursue this thing that I love. I can't help but feel sometimes that I am not contributing enough to the world around me, that I should be doing something less selfish with my post graduate life.

Fortunately my kids are walking reminders that every life has inherent value.  They arguably have every thing working against them; fewer resources, larger class size, parents working multiple jobs that do not afford them the time to sit with their children and make sure they do work. Some have no access to internet, some cannot be confident that their parents will have enough rent for the next month.

Yet they persevere. They have met with me every Saturday morning for the past two months, wrestling with concepts they've never seen before. They improve, slowly, but steadily, and I get to watch their scores go up with each new practice test.

My students remind me that each person has within them the capacity to improve themselves. By choosing to make such improvements, however minute they may seem, we shift the delicate balance of our environment ever so imperceptibly. A person smiled at is a person happier  - even if it's for a brief moment - and that person might in turn be moved to bring happiness to another. I find resolve and hope in the exponential effects that daily efforts toward one's betterment can bring.

There will be days when the idea of getting out of bed at 5am to get ready for an Equity Casting Call for Wicked could not be farther away from what you want to do. Our choices on these days define us. Will we wake and motivate, or do we rest and shut the door in the face of opportunity?

To combat the exhaustion that is at times unavoidable, I remember these two mantras:

1. The answer is always no, unless you ask the question.
2. Many of life's failures are people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up.  (Thomas Edison, courtesy of a particularly kind monitor at a recent Guys & Dolls audition.)

 If you're ever having a hard time motivating and need a little daily affirmation, this little girl may be just the thing:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qR3rK0kZFkg

All Work and No Play Makes A Sad Broadway Baby

Today I needed a little artistic inspiration and relaxation to keep my love for what I do in a healthy and happy place. Luckily for me fortune sometimes favors those in need...

In fact, I'm reminded of an unlikely reprieve in the form of a three hour Baroque Mass by Bach at St. Thomas Church! I've never heard such a large man make such a small, refined, and beautiful sound like the counter tenor that evening.

Annnd who am I kidding, it was kind of fun to bring down the average age of the place by at least two decades! In absence of auditioning opportunities this week, I've lost a little focus. An unfortunate by product of too much work and focus on money. Now I take this weekend to find balance between work, play, and other pursuits to finalize a plan of attack for the rest of the year.

Spartacus: Blood and Sand is a dangerous habit... BAD netflix. BAD.

on a day like today...

I'm listening to the most phenom combination of classical music (Chopin) and opera (La Trav and other Verdi greats)... God bless Pandora.

My hip hurts, I haven't been to dance as often as I would like, and I have a LOT of work to do.... but in this moment, with the sun shining through the loft windows of my office and this brilliant blue sky, I couldn't be happier.

Here's to loving the little things in life. Happy Spring!

For something marvelous to behold and to hear, Natalie Dessay in the Met Opera's 2007 production of Lucia di Lammermoor. Unparalleled. 

http://link.brightcove.com/services/player/bcpid610237632001?bctid=659374233001