So, I've been thinking about how irritating it is when your brain says one thing and the rest of your body, (especially your speech) does another.
I have my lines memorized. Word for word. Jag and I even rehearsed at the coffee shop one Saturday where one held book and the other corrected every single word that was not quite right. For example, I often say "I here these days you hide gold in YOUR closet where your soap should be," when it should be "I here these days you hold gold in THE closet where your soap should be. Not a huge difference, but Jag and I are obsessed with word-perfectness. Shakespeare corrupted us.
We know the script, we do. Yet, on opening night, something caused me to stutter, and that hindered my motivations near the end of the show. The most crucial part of the play became a farce of me dropping my actions/motivations and became me simply going through the motions. It's been bothering me, since I saw myself rise to the occasion on Saturday's matinee and evening show with no stutters and once again implementing those strong actions.
What the hell goes on in my head?
Why can't I do what I tell myself to? The 20 or so folks that saw Friday's performance deserved to see the best, and I let them down. I got nervous. I guess that's what distinguishes a professional from me; I am still (sometimes) inconsistent.
Something Greg Taber once said to me still affects me; It went something like, "The audience deserves your best performance every night. When you go up to them after a show and say, 'I wish you could have seen it last night' you have cheated them out of a quality performance. It is your obligation to give them your best every night."
I'm sorry, family, friends. I didn't give you my best that night. I've gotten past the anxiety of opening my very first lead role. And now I'm in the groove. And this show ROCKS.