Words cannot express

I've been wanting to talk about the work (Meisner work--from now on, that's what I mean when I say "the work") less and less lately.  As in, speaking with someone about it, verbalizing my thoughts on it.  It's funny, before I found this work, I wanted to talk about acting all the time, discuss theory and dissect the process.  But now, to talk about The Work, to try to articulate my experiences with it through spoken language, feels almost dirty.  It feels guilty and shameful, as if I'm betraying the work, myself, and everyone who is dedicated to it.  It's very strange.  My experiences with it continue to be so powerful, I feel that if I talk about it, I objectify it.  

I can say this about the class: I've never had an acting ("acting" no longer feels like an adequate word...) class with such a minimal amount of talking about the work.  So much doing.  There's an unspoken understanding that there's no need to discuss it.  The work is so human--so honest, so personal, so genuine, real, vulnerable, that discussion is not necessary.  Everyone in the class understands it--it's a visceral understanding--no need for words.  They just complicate things.  It's all so unbelievably beautiful--human and beautiful.  

Thank you, Sandy.  I owe my life to you.  Words cannot express. 

"Just art"

This is hard.  The Meisner work, it's very difficult.  I'm not making a generalization; the work is difficult for me, personally.  It requires a serious amount of vulnerability and emotional honesty that I struggle with.  At the same time, I am, and have always been seriously dedicated to pursuing that honesty, that truth.  It's almost hilarious that my passion, my near-religion, is a conflictual pursuit for me.  It's very frustrating and upsetting.  In order to do this work, to really learn how to do this kind of work, I have to directly confront my socially-conditioned, deeply psychologically-rooted fears.  And it's terrifying.  I get very scared, and very ashamed.  I do have moments where I step back and really ask myself: "Is it really worth it?"  Rationally, it's not.  It's just art.  But, there it is.  "Just art."  I would give my life for "just art."  I would never forgive myself if I gave up.  So, I must believe that I will come out of this (whatever that means) stronger, more at peace with myself, and healed in someway. 

I love reps. 

Flying

After staying awake the entire night obsessing over where I want to be in the work, I've decided to turn my focus and attention to where I am, from now on.  It's for my own sanity.  As a teacher and mentor of mine put it: "It's like baby bird trying to imagine how to fly."  So, I must accept that I am still, very much, a baby bird.  Time to focus on my basics.