It was the first casting I have attended that (I was to discover) didn't call for any acting, but the familiarity of the organised seating, magnolia walls and the sound of ball point pens tapping against clipboards confirmed that it definitely was a casting. I won't discuss the details, but perhaps I'll reference it in time.
A couple of hours after this appointment, I arrived at a workshop where I recognised a girl who had briefly occupied the waiting room in the time that I had.
"Were you just at that casting?"
"Yes I was", she said.
"How did you find it?" I asked.
Her eyes were suddenly awash with tears. She cast her eyes down to the floor, brushed her hands over her cheeks and apologised for getting upset as I awkwardly tried to reassure her, whilst not being overly familiar.
I've been thinking about it all week. The casting, the questions and the lead up to it all.
I wondered if I would have responded differently if I had known what to expect. Or was the real issue the suppression of my own and evidently, this distressed girl's own insecurities. I'm yet to decide, but this episode certainly supports the notion of actors commonly finding comfort in their portrayal of others, over publicly addressing themselves.
Yesterday I had a boxing session with Marianne Marston. These sessions are held in a traditional no frills boxing gym, complete with free weights, old splattered blood stains, hanging bags and a number of boxing rings for sparring. As I warmed up, a young man armoured with a head guard, sparred with a more experienced, unguarded man. As the lesser experienced fighter began to tire, his opponent mercilessly advanced with fast, heavy blows. He raised his fists and guarded as best he could, as a stream of blood trickled down into his mouth from his right nostril. He fought on until his trainer, from outside of the ring called for it to stop.
I admired this young man for his unwavering determination even though he may well have been afraid. He stood up to the punches and (almost) fearlessly came back for more.
Well, I did say that this spot would feature passages comparable to streams of consciousness, but if I must conclude for those who desire it, my closing thought for the week is this:
Expect the unexpected and when it does hit you, don't cry about it; take it on the chin and swing a mean left hook.
Expect the unexpected and when it does hit you, don't cry about it; take it on the chin and swing a mean left hook.
