Thank you, all of you, who suggested I do something like this. I’m *sincerely* humbled by your desire to help me along this road. I don’t know that I can truly express how blessed you’ve made me feel.

Love,

Rach

Thankfully, as it always seems to happen when you’re lending yourself to something you’re supposed to be doing, doors seemed to open up. I met great people in the industry who were filled with honest, kind advice. I was a reader for one of the sweetest casting directors in Los Angeles. And I asked questions. And all of those questions seemed to lead me to Brad Henke.

Brad Henke is an established actor who is dedicated to the art of acting and growing and maturing young actors. I first heard about him through a handful of casting assistants and directors, but knew I needed to RUN into the arms of his studio when I read for Joe Egender. Joe absolutely blew me away in his audition, and I immediately wanted to train wherever he trained. And, naturally, it was with Brad.

So I started pursuing the Henke Studio and technique…and then…as it does…more doors opened. Stella Adler in New York wanted to establish a west coast presence, and after observing teachers in LA, settled on Brad as their perfect partner. They joined forces to create the Art of Acting Studio in Hollywood, and my trajectory has been completely altered. I’m now studying with Jane Fleiss, a woman who has fundamentally changed the way I view scripts and what I bring to them. Everything about me as an actor is changing…being refined and reformed…as a result of the classes this studio has offered up.

I say all this because I remember, so clearly, how dizzying it was to figure out next steps when you first move to Los Angeles. So if there’s even one person reading this blog that has been toying with the idea of making the jump…make the jump here. Into a community of developmental and working actors alike, where you’re asked to bring your A game and really WORK on your craft. This isn’t a studio that is going to let you slack…they’re going to ask you to push yourself further…everyday. You’ll probably be uncomfortable at times (I can attest to that. Ha.), but I promise you, you will NEVER be so prepared in the audition room after working with these artists.

Oh…and another really cool part of being a part of this family? They’ve got a black box theatre. You know, in case you do a little writing you want to be able to perform for an audience. Not saying you have to…but having things like that at your disposal in this town? Priceless. : )

So. If you want to work. And you want to work HARD. If you want to be stretched. If you want to be encouraged. If you want to be surrounded by a team. Then come. Join me. Lord knows I’d love to meet you.

He said something that made me laugh so hard, I told him to stop everything he was doing and tweet it. He fell back laughing, then said, “Hold on, everyone! I’ve said something mildly amusing! I must share it with THE WORLD!”

I hung my head in conviction. Because…you know…that’s how I tweet.

It was just a surreal evening. And big enough for my shortest blog post ever.

LA does a number on me sometimes.

For the most part, I’m completely secure with who I am and what I will and won’t do for an acting job. Other times…not so much.

I submitted myself for a role in an independent feature film this week. It’s a story about a family of Sephardic Jews – their individual lives and connections with one another. While I originally thought I was a perfect fit for the lead, I got down to this sentence in the breakdown and knew it wasn’t going to be possible: Must be comfortable kissing member of same sex.

This is not an overly sexual film, and it’s not about sex. The lead’s same-sex relationship is critical to the plot of the story. But I simply knew it wasn’t going to be something I could do. So I submitted myself for a much lesser role.

Approximately 20 minutes after I submitted myself, the casting director texted me: Hi Rachael, you submitted yourself for the role of Janet, but I really think you’re a better fit for the lead. Would you be interested in auditioning for that?

I thought about it for a couple minutes, then texted back: You know, I’d love the opportunity, but I know you’re looking for someone comfortable with same-sex kissing. I’m not…so let me know if that’s a deal breaker. She responded with: It’s really vital to the story…but there are only two very simple scenes, nothing overboard. Take some time to think about it and let me know.

So I did, and my answer was still the same. When I texted her back to let her know that I would still love to audition for the role I originally submitted myself for, she never replied. So I guess I know what that means.

And you know, it’s fine. It probably won’t be the last time I miss out on something because of my personal boundaries and comfort levels. But some days…in some moments…I feel like it’s pointless for me to be the woman I am in a city like LA, in an industry like this. That unless I’m willing to dive into “tasteful nudity” or “simulated sex scenes”, I might as well throw in the towel and move onto the next dream in the next city.

Some days…it just feels pointless. Pointless to be me. In this town.

Or maybe it’s just a funny thing about me and successes…

Within two days of something good happening, I feel the strain of everything else that is, or could be, going wrong.

This Monday afternoon I signed with an agency. So I now have someone picking up the phone and pitching me to casting directors (at least, that’s how it’s supposed to work) and getting me in the door for auditions. It’s a wonderful thing. It’s next to impossible to do anything in LA without an agent. This is big. Huge. Ginormous. Maybe even epic. (But I don’t care much for the word epic…so let’s just stick with ginormous.)

But here it is…Wednesday…and I’m already thinking about everything that isn’t right. I have an agency, but I don’t have a manager. I need new headshots. Headshots cost money. I need  a reel. I don’t have enough for a reel. Reels cost money. Everyone’s hours are getting cut at work. My sciatic nerve is flaring up, again. I miss my old girlfriends. I’m lonesome. What if my agent doesn’t send me out? What if what one of my friends said is true and I really never will be on a Julia Roberts level? What if what if what if what if what if…

Maybe it’s maturity that removes some of this post-mountain-top angst. Maybe it’s just the way I’m wired. But I’m tired of the yo yo. So right now…I’m going to close my computer, and with it, close the fears and suspicions. And I’m going to haul my cookies to some Cuban speakeasy where you have to know a password to get in. And I’m going to hope they let me in…considering I accidentally got a pint of grey paint in my hair this afternoon and it refuses to come out.

Skip Hopkins is the lovely photographer that took my headshots shortly after I moved to Los Angeles. I knew him from Nashville, and as fate would have it, he happened to be visiting LA at the very time I was looking for new headshots. Although it was his first time dabbling in that form of photography, his professional creativity ended up being what has got me in the door for every audition I’ve ever gone on.

No. Seriously. I mean it.

I wouldn’t be able to get my foot in the door anywhere if it weren’t for his work. In fact, almost every casting director has said to me when I’ve walked in the room, “Wow. This is a really great headshot!”

What astounded me most about Skip was his dedication to the project. He was serious about what he was doing…he didn’t go halfway with me just because I was a friend. He scouted out locations for the pictures, researched what made a great headshot, and walked into our session prepared and ready to work. And the best part? HE DIRECTED ME. He didn’t rely on me to know what I was doing. He told me when to soften my eyes, mouth, hands, arms, etc etc etc. I was more confident because he took the initiative.

And, for you LA folk, the really good news? He’s here for the rest of the month, with the hope that he’ll be moving out here full time soon. So if you need headshots/model shots/wedding shots/fun shots/baby shots/pet shots/tequila shots, he’s your man. Okay…I’m not sure about the tequila shots. He may be more of a Jack man. You’ll have to ask him directly.

Skip Hopkins, guys. He’s a lifestyle editorial photographer who can really do it all. You won’t be disappointed.

www.skiphopkins.com

It’s tiny. And it’s in a web series. But it’s a NBC/Universal web series. And I’m playing the personal assistant to the lead. Who happens to be AnnaLynne McCord. And I’m only in one episode. But it’s a start. It’s my first job out here. And I’m excited. I shoot April 6th…so if I had a Flip Camera, I would document every part of it imaginable. But I don’t. So I’ll just write about it when it’s all said and done.

I also had the opportunity to go and read for casting director Lindsey Kroeger yesterday. She’s casting a film and needed someone to read the lines with the actors while she taped the auditions. And guys. I learned SO. MUCH. And also sweat a lot. Especially when Illeana Douglas walked upstairs and I had to read with her. Or when Joe Egender came in and made me believe that he really did have a crush on me (the script called for some relational tension). But every actor was so prepared…so on their game…so professional. I cannot express the inspiration they provided. The opportunity made me incredibly happy to be here…and I’m more excited than ever to hone this skill. Weeee!

In other news…all I’ve been able to think about lately is what the Christian life is really supposed to look like. That maybe Matthew 25:34 really sums it up. Feed the hungry. Care for the homeless. Clothe the naked. Care for the sick. Visit the imprisoned. Simple. Straight-forward. But ohhh, how I complicate things. I just wonder how our world would change…if this was the verse that was lived out daily. And the rest of life was just details. Exquisite details. Details that allow us to work hard, have fun, enjoy our families and friends. Learn and teach and listen and encourage and love, love, love, love. I want that. I want that for this world. Truly.

Step 2 :: Begin to drive to your audition 10 minutes later than you wanted to because you simply weren’t sure of the outfit.

Step 3 :: Get around the block, and realize you don’t have the address as to where your audition is. Pull over, and search your phone for the email from the casting director.

Step 4 :: Gasp when you realize there are TWO sides attached to the email…when you only have ONE prepared.

Step 5 :: Careen back home and rush into the house to print off the second side…where you then learn more about the character and have to change. For the 8th time.

Step 6 :: Gasp again as you’re reading through the second side, and realize not only do you have to scream in the audition, but you have to bawl your eyes out, too. (I look forward to the day this is not a problem. But as it stands right now, I’m still new to this, so it’s going to take me longer than 15 minutes to dig deep and find those emotions.)

Step 7 :: Walk into the audition and immediately break out in hives, realizing that you’re about to cry for these folks based on a script you saw for the first time 15 minutes ago.

Step 8 :: Realize you’ve been defeated when they ask you instead, after the audition, to do a cold read for the ‘best friend.’

And that, my friends, is how it’s done. But I’m thankful for this — I laughed the whole way home. Maybe you think that’s me not taking this seriously, but I think it means I’m much more prepared for this world *now* than I would have been a few years ago. So thanks, real world experience, Emma, Nashville and life, for toughening me up so I can see the humor in days like today.

One of the top five things I was nervous about in coming to Los Angeles was the idea of becoming really self-focused. Not only because the industry I coming out here for is notoriously self-serving…but also because the city in general lends itself to being the same way. With all the billboards and fame and good-lookingness and blah blah blah.

Weellllllllll. I did it. I got swept up in all the excess. And while I was complaining to one of my roommates about why – basically – people didn’t act like I wanted them to, she opened her mouth…and humbled me.

She said it was probably a condition of me needing everything to be about me, and putting myself before others.

And she’s right. So, so right.

It would have been one thing if she and I weren’t friends…or if there was an assumption of intimacy…but this girl has taken the time to get to know me, has been kind and encouraging from the start. So hearing this truth from her caused me to step back and take the time to evaluate.

Embarrassing? Yes. But I’m so. so. so glad to have someone in my life willing to be that up front…and speak the truth in love. And I hope that all of you have, or find, one person to be that kindly honest in your lives.

Now then, to tackle the rest of the issue. Blergh.

I learned a lot. Like the fact that casting directors or readers will not always give the emotions to help you play off of them. So the acting truly is all on you. Or that if you want to avoid the awkward sitting in a room with all the people you’re auditioning against, get there early and be the first to sign in. Or if you’re auditioning for multiple roles, have your stuff together because there will be *no* time to mentally transition to the next character before you begin reading for it.

Overall, I didn’t do my best. But I didn’t do my worst, either. And the really good news? I don’t think my hives were noticeable on camera. Haaayyyy!

The best part was…when I walking into the audition, a car drove by and sprayed water all. over. me. I was completely water logged from the shins down. So when I walked into the office, my shoes were making that embarrassing sloshing-spongey noise and my jeans were dragging water all over the floor. But I had to laugh. Because it was my first audition. And there I was. Getting my feet wet.

Somewhere in the universe there’s a chorus of dads laughing at that joke.