I'm the worst. It's been so long since I've blogged that I almost forgot my password. ALMOST.
I just got back from a month (off and on) in New York. It's amazing the perspective you get visiting a city that was home for so long.
New York is really so much of who I am as a person, and as a performer.
I'm sure survival in New York can seem like an unattainable thing to some people. Aside from the daunting task of paying your rent, it can be overwhelming to dive in to such a monstrous and frenetic scene and find your way.
But what I realized after years living there was that I wasn't searching for that way, I was helping to make it. Years of downtown improv comedy shows, hours writing sketch shows in whatever space we could find, indie films, volunteering, demonstrating, writing, performing, shooting, pranking, carrying my elderly neighbor's groceries.
Some people will tell you that the people who run New York own expensive companies and work in offices. And they're right, in a way. Because we sure as hell wanted them to notice us.
But when I think of New York, I don't think of moguls on conference calls. Because no matter how many Time Out New York shows they see, there's still something missing. Maybe they can spot talent, but if you've never had to steal bagels from a temp job just to have a meal for the next day, you don't quite have the same thing driving you.
My last few years in New York, I was fortunate enough to get TV work. Unfortunately, it left little time for live performing, and I missed it so much. The years I spent performing regularly in New York were invaluable and irreplaceable.
Because when it comes right down to the gritty ideas and the great experiments of life, nothing makes a New Yorker like a leaky basement theater under a supermarket.