
It took about two weeks to wrap my brain around being back in our lovely village of Manhattan after spending a 6 glorious weeks (preferred vocation employed) in gorgeous Vermont.
To be a leading woman over 40 was so grand. I did radio interviews, was recognized hiking up Mt. Philo, was asked to speak to theatre students at St. Michael's College. It was so wonderful to not worry about the actron/job searching day-to-day schmooze of New York. For six weeks I was reaping benefits of the 30 year career schlep. No bouts of depression, angst, questioning every decision I've made since birth... No worries about reading great works, adopting a child, taking up kitesailing, joining the Peace Corps, learning a language or doing more so that my life would have some great worth.
And as the prop plane landed at La Guardia and I had a nice big inhale of our world-renowned idling 68 Camero oxygen, I decided to come down with bronchitis so I wouldn't have to actually show up to my life back home. I stayed in bed for 3 days.
The phone rang about 8 times daily... all people trying to sell car insurance, get the person who had my number years ago to pay off his credit card, etc. I'd never spent so much time in my apartment and how lovely to chat with all these strangers and automated calling machines.
I'm co-president of an organization for women in the arts and media - which has a mission to help women help each other get work in the biz. I'm of course, a tad more focused on older women getting that chance. This is a huge job, all volunteer - and coming back to it gave me no time to reconsider moving to the burbs and becoming a mailman. It's such a bizarre balance, living here. One has to have a sincere fondness for masochism.
An old friend/mentor of mine, set designer Robin Wagner, mentioned to me at one point that in the olden days of the 70's, there had been a huge attempt to make a national theatre here in the states. It ended up not happening, he said - because, "actors need to stay hungry or they get stale." So guaranteeing work isn't good for the actor's talent. Well, in that case, a lot of us should be uber talented by now.
I am supported by corporate funding, having a job at a big law firm that allows me to act when hired and live when not. Coming back to that world was not easy. But auditions are a skosh less for women over a certain age and I'm grateful to have some income. But Lordy, how wonderful to get out of here, learn about a new town and meet all these terrific people who have settled there and bring some kind of light to their worlds and get to do that acting thang!
Last night my phone rang and even though I knew it was a sales person I picked up.... "Interestante en milagros?" "Milagros, si, necesito un milagro ahora...." and then he goes on rapidly in Spanish and I give up and say, "Es una numero incorrecto..." and that's that. "Want a miracle?" "Si, HELL, si!" But apparently that certain miracle was just as difficult to come by as leading roles for women over a certain age. Only the miracle caveat is that you have to speak fluent Spanish.
I purchased Rosetta Stone, Spanish-Version 3 today. Some obstacles are easier to overcome than others.