Fuck Art!

Tonight Ken, his friend Paul, and I went to see their friend Pamela Dunlap in The King of Mackie Street at Vital Theatre Company.  There was much about it I liked, and some that I didn't.  I don't necessarily agree with the review I'd read about the play's structural problems.

What seeing the play did most, though, was make me pine for working on the stage again.  My experience of Tartuffe was too wonderful, so of course I want to try to repeat it.

It's weird, how I go back and forth between thinking I want to keep getting involved in theater here in the city - do it where I can - and thinking I need to just step back from it permanently, and if I want to pursue acting, do it in some sort of way that might make me some money, i.e., in commercials and voice-overs.  My theater friends would be horrified to hear me suggest that I might not always feel like I'm in it just for the art.  Somebody out there is gonna look down their nose at me.

But let's be frank:  There isn't much art in commercial and voice-over work, true.  But when you're paying New York City rents, sometimes you think, "Fuck art.  I need to eat."

So in my continuing quest to explore the possibilties of creating my own headshot with a digital camera, I've come at last to the picture on the left.  Again, it's not very good, but I think it shows potential.  I'm beginning to believe that, with the skills at hand, a bit of Photoshopping, and even just a slightly better camera, I might be able to pull it off.  Whether or not it would get me work, of course, would be another matter, but it certainly wouldn't be as bad as some  of the headshots I've seen out there in the world.  Alas, this is all kinda moot, since now that I'm living alone and paying full rent on the apartment, it's going to be a glacial age before I can afford a new camera, and there are so many things that I want to get first.