I had to stop doing my chores to sit down and write this. I think often about the idea of creative inspiration being a poison that you need to get out of your body (got that idea from Thought Slime). I feel like I’m experiencing a moment where that poison is reaching critical mass. I was cut from an audition today at my local theatre after spending several hours preparing this week. I mention the prep work to express how much I invested myself into the role and how much it took over my mind (and not to express bitterness although I am disappointed). It spurned a drive to create a character and be part of a production. Empty moments of time (and sometimes not-so-empty ones) were filled by impulsive character work. Sure I created something, but the audition has passed, the character is dead in me, and now I’m left trying to figure out what’s next. There’s always another audition on the horizon, but now I’m preoccupied with making my own material to act in. I’m tired of video essays and…
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