Monday, April 29, 2013


Tonight, after seeing a reading of a friend's play that I find interesting and genuinely good, I was standing around running my insufferable yack as is my general wont when one of the actors came over. She introduced herself and said that we'd met before at an audition (which is entirely possible, I have come to accept that I have already come across anybody in this city who is "of color" and an actor), though I wouldn't recognize her because her hair was straight at the time.

Then she stated that she remembered me because I was so pretty.

Now, I have been complimented for appearance in the past, and used to dress kind of nice and was likely referred to for at least some time as a pretty boy, but never quite in this was strange as a male....and..just strange.

She went on thought to explain that she meant I had a "pretty aura"....

The other lady I was speaking to at the time (whom I'd just done a reading with) agreed.



A pretty aura. Interesting.

I guess I'd had a good audition? I try to be encouraging regardless of my relationship to the audition room on that particuarly day. Performers go through enough. I feel like if I'm going to not get it, let me not get it because someone brought that fire: so let me radiate some heat.

You know?


It's difficult for we self-deprecative curmudgeons to accept praise, particularly when it might suggest we are anything but wholly curmudgeonly creatures.

So ... "pretty aura".




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