Soundtrack for the reading. Press Play, read on.
I decided to start this blog for the primary purpose of keeping myself on a timely writing schedule. I needed the creative outlet that doing something like this provides and, humbleness be damned, I thought I may have something to say. Turns out, I don't.
It's been a few days since my last entry, or at least I left up longer than a few hours. I did write a post on "Gay", but (and this is what I struggle with) I feared offending people even though there was nothing offensive about what I'd written. I was concerned that because I was highlighting the gay community for it's continual progress by putting the focus on how things had become increasingly more "gay" over time, it would be read by some as minimizing the actual progress. The piece had my bizarre sense of humor attached to it which I blindly assume everyone can understand.
But I got gun shy and after posting it, I removed it a few hours later. This is the part of "blogging" that I hate. I don't want to be censored. I don't want to be afraid of backlash because someone might find what I say offensive. The truth is that if I were to publish that post again, most of you would not be offended at all and in fact would see the point I was making. My sense of humor isn't derived from the the easy way to mock people. There was no mockery involved. But, in the eyes of someone not clear on who I am, it could be seen as something it wasn't intended to be, and that really pisses me off!
I want this blog to be a place where I can come and write my thoughts in a creative way, assembling videos and audio clips for a full experience. I don't like being edited. But it can never be said enough to someone looking for hate everywhere they go, that there is no hate here. They will find it. They always do.
So, I'm at a crossroads. I want to continue this blog with freedom and total creative control, but I don't want to be misunderstood, especially by people I care about. So how do I find this balance? Do I just post the damn thing and see if it does offend people? Or do I continue to monitor what I say, limit my ideas and creative license because a few people out there will always find the negative in a positive? I'm unsure. And with that, I'm unsure as to how to move forward with my blog. It will never be the type of place where I come to journal my life. I'm not that interesting and telling the world what I did today doesn't excite me, let alone a reader looking to escape the world for ten minutes or so, so that can't happen. What do I do? Do I continue with it in a gelded manner where my work goes from what was once the very strong, Mamet like opinion place I wanted to create, to a much softer, politically correct gallery of liberal views so strained to please everyone that no one likes it?
If this is not an art form as I've stated, then I'm limited to the confines of pseudo-journalism. If I decide to try and slide this under the art umbrella, then I risk total failure in a way that is destructive to what I want to do. It's quite the conundrum. A question I have yet to answer.
In the meantime, since I can't post my blog on "Gay", I'll just give you Jermaine Stewart.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
The Pain of Auditions
It's been a long, long time. My "acting" career is about as lively as Stephen Hawking at a Rave. The past few years I've managed to paint with mistakes into a hopeless corner my dreams, goals and plans. I don't really know how to explain the cacophony of events that stepped forward to brandish themselves above all others. It happened. So be it.
I'm not going into great lengths here to explain why I've been stagnant for so long. The truth is that I'm not even sure anymore. However, my current plan is slowly forming and the first part of this revolves around the UPTA (United Professional Theatre Alliance) audtion I have in Memphis on February 5. I only hope for a few callbacks. I'm not anticipating getting cast in anything. I never assume anyone will give me work. I don't have that kind of luck. Hell, I only got into grad school because I was denied entrance into the general audition and placed into the "open call" auditions. It was a fluke they even interviewed me, and then I was wait listed. Only the misfortune (or more likely greater fortune of acceptance into a better school) of another did I get my foot in the door at Northern. So I don't have much hope.
Anyway, the point of this isn't to rant and rave about my shitty luck. No. This is about the Audition Process. Probably the single most humiliating experience an actor goes through. Repetitively. It's so awful an experience that I liken it to self immolation. Here's an example of that:
Am I being overly dramatic here? Well, probably. It's actually just shy of this example because unlike the monk who must go through this process only once, the actor must do this endlessly, like some psychotic Groundhog Day, where the suffering of the cause is ignored for the lack of commitment some pretentious ass observed, asking "can you do that again, only this time can you try it without the smoke? I want to FEEL the flame."
Yeah, they'd say that.
To understand the mind of an actor is to attempt to live on the razor's edge of sanity; a crippling grip around the throat of an empty desire to share with the world an art form so challenging it can only be entrusted to....Jennifer Aniston??
So, back to the audition. As I've been doing "research", attempting to find something new, something exciting to use as a monologe for this, I've stumbled upon some truly spectacular videos on the youtube. I mean, examples of acting so bad, so delightfully horrifying, that their purpose must solely be to build me up so I feel better about my abilities. Let me start off with this little gem. My friend (not really) Alex here is about to DESTROY some Shakespeare. If you hate the Bard, it's performances like this I'm sure you've come to expect.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! I mean...wow. For starters, let's look at the background here, shall we? He's taken the time to hang up a sheet so he can be "the focus" of the room. Ok, good idea. Now, it may also help to zoom that camera in a bit tighter so we don't have see your dirty ass basement makeout couch and a shelf full of board games. I keep expecting his mom to come through with the laundry and applaud him (That's what mine would do) for his talent. Bad choice in motif Alex. Now, the piece. Clearly, and it really doesn't get any more clear than this, Alex has ZERO comprehension about what he is saying. In fact, it looks like he's struggling just to breathe. I'd say it's because he doesn't understand how the verse breaks, but it may also be the mold from that couch behind him. Either way, it really, detracts from his "Performance".
Ok, I don't want to beat him up too much. Let's look at this same piece, from different perspective, ok?
Two things strike me here: First, we have a shelf tastefully decorated in African tribal masks. I'm sure they were chosen as the best representations of comedy and drama to highlight this piece. But, did you notice that odd one? Just to left of center? Is that...?? Yep, it's President Obama. Right there surrounded by his "peeps". Now, we thought Alex had problems with his motif? Martece also has made some bad choices. I'm not really going to critique his performance for two reasons: a) I can't really understand him and b) what I do understand almost sounds songlike. Combined with the location and his cornrows, I feel like we're back in R Kelly's closet. I have no idea what's going on here. All I know is he is trying really, really hard and it's just not going well.
And, just for fun, one more time we'll see the same piece, but with a different spin.
Huh????
I don't know about you, but to me, this is the stuff of nightmares! HOW THE FUCK CAN YOU BE ANY CREEPIER??? STARE INTO THE CAMERA!!!!! Holy fuck did this give me the heeebie jeebies! Ok, so, Edmund doesn't suffer the same fates as our previous two, but wow..WOW did he take an unexpected fucking leap there or what?? I mean...if you know this play AT ALL you will recognize this as the prison cell scene where Orsino rapes Viola. NOT!!!! But it sure feels like that, doesn't it? I mean, all it needed was a little lip licking and a subtle wink and suddenly it's 1999 again and one of the worst scenes from Oz is about to transpire...in verse. AHHHHHHHHHHHH.......
Ok, so ultimately my point is that auditions suck. They suck for actors, but imagine sitting through an endless parade of these three, for five days, hoping to find just one that doesn't make you want to stab your eyes out with an eraser. This is not easy. This is art.
I'm not going into great lengths here to explain why I've been stagnant for so long. The truth is that I'm not even sure anymore. However, my current plan is slowly forming and the first part of this revolves around the UPTA (United Professional Theatre Alliance) audtion I have in Memphis on February 5. I only hope for a few callbacks. I'm not anticipating getting cast in anything. I never assume anyone will give me work. I don't have that kind of luck. Hell, I only got into grad school because I was denied entrance into the general audition and placed into the "open call" auditions. It was a fluke they even interviewed me, and then I was wait listed. Only the misfortune (or more likely greater fortune of acceptance into a better school) of another did I get my foot in the door at Northern. So I don't have much hope.
Anyway, the point of this isn't to rant and rave about my shitty luck. No. This is about the Audition Process. Probably the single most humiliating experience an actor goes through. Repetitively. It's so awful an experience that I liken it to self immolation. Here's an example of that:
Am I being overly dramatic here? Well, probably. It's actually just shy of this example because unlike the monk who must go through this process only once, the actor must do this endlessly, like some psychotic Groundhog Day, where the suffering of the cause is ignored for the lack of commitment some pretentious ass observed, asking "can you do that again, only this time can you try it without the smoke? I want to FEEL the flame."
Yeah, they'd say that.
To understand the mind of an actor is to attempt to live on the razor's edge of sanity; a crippling grip around the throat of an empty desire to share with the world an art form so challenging it can only be entrusted to....Jennifer Aniston??
So, back to the audition. As I've been doing "research", attempting to find something new, something exciting to use as a monologe for this, I've stumbled upon some truly spectacular videos on the youtube. I mean, examples of acting so bad, so delightfully horrifying, that their purpose must solely be to build me up so I feel better about my abilities. Let me start off with this little gem. My friend (not really) Alex here is about to DESTROY some Shakespeare. If you hate the Bard, it's performances like this I'm sure you've come to expect.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! I mean...wow. For starters, let's look at the background here, shall we? He's taken the time to hang up a sheet so he can be "the focus" of the room. Ok, good idea. Now, it may also help to zoom that camera in a bit tighter so we don't have see your dirty ass basement makeout couch and a shelf full of board games. I keep expecting his mom to come through with the laundry and applaud him (That's what mine would do) for his talent. Bad choice in motif Alex. Now, the piece. Clearly, and it really doesn't get any more clear than this, Alex has ZERO comprehension about what he is saying. In fact, it looks like he's struggling just to breathe. I'd say it's because he doesn't understand how the verse breaks, but it may also be the mold from that couch behind him. Either way, it really, detracts from his "Performance".
Ok, I don't want to beat him up too much. Let's look at this same piece, from different perspective, ok?
Two things strike me here: First, we have a shelf tastefully decorated in African tribal masks. I'm sure they were chosen as the best representations of comedy and drama to highlight this piece. But, did you notice that odd one? Just to left of center? Is that...?? Yep, it's President Obama. Right there surrounded by his "peeps". Now, we thought Alex had problems with his motif? Martece also has made some bad choices. I'm not really going to critique his performance for two reasons: a) I can't really understand him and b) what I do understand almost sounds songlike. Combined with the location and his cornrows, I feel like we're back in R Kelly's closet. I have no idea what's going on here. All I know is he is trying really, really hard and it's just not going well.
And, just for fun, one more time we'll see the same piece, but with a different spin.
Huh????
I don't know about you, but to me, this is the stuff of nightmares! HOW THE FUCK CAN YOU BE ANY CREEPIER??? STARE INTO THE CAMERA!!!!! Holy fuck did this give me the heeebie jeebies! Ok, so, Edmund doesn't suffer the same fates as our previous two, but wow..WOW did he take an unexpected fucking leap there or what?? I mean...if you know this play AT ALL you will recognize this as the prison cell scene where Orsino rapes Viola. NOT!!!! But it sure feels like that, doesn't it? I mean, all it needed was a little lip licking and a subtle wink and suddenly it's 1999 again and one of the worst scenes from Oz is about to transpire...in verse. AHHHHHHHHHHHH.......
Ok, so ultimately my point is that auditions suck. They suck for actors, but imagine sitting through an endless parade of these three, for five days, hoping to find just one that doesn't make you want to stab your eyes out with an eraser. This is not easy. This is art.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
The Swan Dive Begins! Wait for the splash!
WELCOME TO SWAN DIVE! The only place on the internet where you can find me,The Swan (a nickname/moniker given to me long ago that I feel is truly used far too little) unedited, unkempt and uncaring to your needs! This is a PC free place. If you don't like hearing my ideas on things that don't coddle people, then don't read it. I'm not saying this is where I'm going to come out of the closet as hate monger and suddenly start spouting off Tea Party agendaisms...but I may. I have no idea where I'm going with this...ok, that's not entirely true.
I've decided there are things in this world that I like A LOT! So much so that I want to write about them. These topics include, but are not limited to the following:
BEER: I am a beer snob. If you drink Bud Light and enjoy it, go away. We have nothing in common.
POLITICS: I love to debate all things political. Mostly I'm talking out of my ass. It'll be fun for you to find out when that is and when I'm actually attempting to understand and inform. It's a game. Play it!
SEX: I mean, it's sex. If you don't like that, you probably don't like baby animals, chocolate or cheese. Again, be gone with you.
FOOD: I love food. I love trying new things. I'll be discussing new things soon.
ART: This I kept last. It's probably the most important element to my being, but I didn't want to bore you with it first. It'll be on here a lot as well. Hopefully you don't hate art. If you do hate art, then you probably don't like beer and should therefore have already left this blog. If you don't like beer, but chose to stay thinking we may have other things in common only to discover I like sex and you don't, again you should've left a while ago. I warned you. Now, if you're the kind of asshole that doesn't like beer, sex or baby animals (kittens, puppies and the like) but STILL remained here out of spite, I applaud you. YOU MAY STAY! I like your stubbornness. You are now a worthwhile adversary. Enjoy your time here you miserable wretch.
So, I take requests. In fact, part of this blog is for me to dip my toe (literal or figurative)into new things, then find an interesting way to share that with you. I plan on having videos up soon. Mostly of me doing things you shouldn't see me do, or of me talking about things I know nothing of. Anyway, if you choose your own adventure for me and I take it, you will be rewarded. I'm unemployed, understimulated and way to eager to please. You could get me killed....or arrested, which would also count as a new experience...sort of.
Anyway, for my first topic, I'd like to pick on the Baptists in my neighborhood. They change their sign once a week, usually to fulfill some need I can only assume as part of the Baptist credo to scare us "Nons" into finding Jesus. This weeks banner of wisdom asks the philosophical question: "Have you helped anyone get into heaven?"
I had to pause for a moment to ponder how that might work. I can only think of two, polar opposite ways, in which I could truly "Help" anyone get into heaven: the first would be to murder them (assuming they were chosen to begin with and allowed to be near the light and glory of the lord) and the second would be have a child (again, assuming I'm married and never had sex outside of that tradition). Neither of these scenarios fit my life. So I felt bad. I felt left out. I felt as though I needed to send someone to Heaven. But I wasn't sure how to do that.
All kidding aside, how does one do that? Assuming Heaven is real, aside from murder, or creating a life form with a soul which, upon its death enters into the Kingdom of God, how the hell do I do that? This particular church is one I drive past everyday. Many of my posts will quote them.
Anyway, I'll be tweeting now as well. I suddenly feel this overwhelming desire to become as average as I can, what with the whole "I have a blog and I'm tweeting now" thing. You can follow that at
@SScottSmithers
Enjoy! See you soon!
I've decided there are things in this world that I like A LOT! So much so that I want to write about them. These topics include, but are not limited to the following:
BEER: I am a beer snob. If you drink Bud Light and enjoy it, go away. We have nothing in common.
POLITICS: I love to debate all things political. Mostly I'm talking out of my ass. It'll be fun for you to find out when that is and when I'm actually attempting to understand and inform. It's a game. Play it!
SEX: I mean, it's sex. If you don't like that, you probably don't like baby animals, chocolate or cheese. Again, be gone with you.
FOOD: I love food. I love trying new things. I'll be discussing new things soon.
ART: This I kept last. It's probably the most important element to my being, but I didn't want to bore you with it first. It'll be on here a lot as well. Hopefully you don't hate art. If you do hate art, then you probably don't like beer and should therefore have already left this blog. If you don't like beer, but chose to stay thinking we may have other things in common only to discover I like sex and you don't, again you should've left a while ago. I warned you. Now, if you're the kind of asshole that doesn't like beer, sex or baby animals (kittens, puppies and the like) but STILL remained here out of spite, I applaud you. YOU MAY STAY! I like your stubbornness. You are now a worthwhile adversary. Enjoy your time here you miserable wretch.
So, I take requests. In fact, part of this blog is for me to dip my toe (literal or figurative)into new things, then find an interesting way to share that with you. I plan on having videos up soon. Mostly of me doing things you shouldn't see me do, or of me talking about things I know nothing of. Anyway, if you choose your own adventure for me and I take it, you will be rewarded. I'm unemployed, understimulated and way to eager to please. You could get me killed....or arrested, which would also count as a new experience...sort of.
Anyway, for my first topic, I'd like to pick on the Baptists in my neighborhood. They change their sign once a week, usually to fulfill some need I can only assume as part of the Baptist credo to scare us "Nons" into finding Jesus. This weeks banner of wisdom asks the philosophical question: "Have you helped anyone get into heaven?"
I had to pause for a moment to ponder how that might work. I can only think of two, polar opposite ways, in which I could truly "Help" anyone get into heaven: the first would be to murder them (assuming they were chosen to begin with and allowed to be near the light and glory of the lord) and the second would be have a child (again, assuming I'm married and never had sex outside of that tradition). Neither of these scenarios fit my life. So I felt bad. I felt left out. I felt as though I needed to send someone to Heaven. But I wasn't sure how to do that.
All kidding aside, how does one do that? Assuming Heaven is real, aside from murder, or creating a life form with a soul which, upon its death enters into the Kingdom of God, how the hell do I do that? This particular church is one I drive past everyday. Many of my posts will quote them.
Anyway, I'll be tweeting now as well. I suddenly feel this overwhelming desire to become as average as I can, what with the whole "I have a blog and I'm tweeting now" thing. You can follow that at
@SScottSmithers
Enjoy! See you soon!
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