I moved to Los Angeles because the man on the right gave me a job that usually takes kids years and years and years of awful PA-work to reach. This is Craig Wright. I first read one of his plays in school, ("Lady") and I thought it was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever read, simply because of its simplicity (redundant).
I write completely differently now because of him. Or, better, I write the exact same way, except I think through (and harder) about the story I'm trying to tell. Differently.
When I see this picture, I become incredibly sad. They all represent the most important moments in my life, and taught me how fleeting those moments will always be.
The guy on the left I auditioned for when I was 17 and still in high school. He made me cry my entire flight home from Chicago to LA because after my monologue he said, "You really don't understand what you are doing at all, do you?" to me after my monologue, and I thought that meant I was the worst 17 year-old actor in the world. Then he accepted me into this incredible school that made me such a better person (though, he still tells me I need to work on my vulnerability on stage... I'll get to that).
The due in the middle represents Chicago theatre, which, for those couple hundred of you that are enmeshed in it, understand how it's an untenable world to articulate; both sweet and sad and intense and simple. Maybe because I'm not in it anymore I'm glorifying it more than it should be, but I don't think so.
And the other taught me how to tell a story. All of them represented these intense moments in my life that vanished within a day. I graduated, I moved, the job was over.
I'm just realizing this now, but I think most of my emotional life is spent convincing myself I'm not affected by things. Because if I didn't do that, I would just cry all day long. I let things that don't have anything to do with me personally affect me.... I don't mind that I cry every time I turn on NPR on my drive home. But things about myself... you HAVE to create this wall, because if you don't, how do you wake up every morning? I guess other adults just aren't affected this much by things ending. Specifically (like these three above), extremely personal and emotional things ending.
The last time I saw Craig, at the MTV premiere of his show that I worked on, I was teary-eyed and wanted so badly to convey this to him. But he always thinks I'm joking. Because 9 times out of 10 I am. Okay, 10 times out of 10 I am. I was raised by emotionally stunted comedians, so sue me. I was so frustrated that he wasn't listening that I put my tongue on his neck as he hurriedly tried to leave/get away from me. I thought that would stop him. That's the universal sign for trying to get someone's attention while hugging you goodbye, right? Sticking your tongue on their neck/ear? I'm sorry, Craig, it was instinctual. Dexter told me to be instinctual.
But that didn't work. So I'm destined to see images like this that boil up a myriad sweet emotions, and patiently wait until 5:30 when I'm on the 101 listening to Lakshmi Singh discussing the children living in the Gaza strip, to let them out.
*Picture is (from L to R) of: Dexter Bullard, one of my favorite teachers from acting college, Michael Shannon, a company member at the first theatre I worked at in Chicago - A Red Orchid Theatre-, and Craig. Dexter is directing Craig's play "Grace," which is on Broadway now starring Michael.
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