A couple of days ago at a Sisterhood Gala, I was sitting with a couple of my favorite women, all of whom had been involved in the production of Bye Bye Birdie I did earlier this year. We’re getting ready for auditions for the next show, The Music Man. As we’re chattering on about how excited we all are to be doing this together. I admit to be being a little nervous. Last time I had no interest in auditioning. I hated the show, I hadn’t acted in 20 years, and even after I was coerced into it, I knew which part I wanted and if I didn’t get it, Thanks, but No Thanks. This year, I know how sad I would be not to be involved, how much I would miss working with this group. So when they ask on the audition form if I would take an ensemble part, my first reaction is, “Are you mad?!?! I am a professional! I am an actor! I don’t do ensemble! Wait, are you implying there is someone better at the role I want than I?!?!?” Then I stop for a second.  I’m so busy worrying about what part I get, that I’ve lost sight of the complete and utter joy the experience was. Not just because I rediscovered my acting chops. Because I became a part of a family.  I got to play with some of the best people I’ve ever met. and truthfully, nobody cared what part I played. It’s too easy to define ourselves by our successes, how good we look to others. Guess what. Everyone is too busy living their own lives to care about what I do for a living, how much weight I gained, what part I get in The Music Man. Every piece of the universe has its worth. Its success. It’s reason to applaud. And the real success is becoming part of something completely unexpected. So, yes, I would take a part in the ensemble. But I can’t promise I won’t be a bit of a diva about it.

Broken Glass Series, “Starburst”

carynjune