Fifty days. In fifty days, I will be in Dods giving it my all in my dance audition, again. A few hours later, I will be giving everything I have to offer with my songs and monologues, again. After that I’ll be waiting patiently for either an acceptance letter or rejection letter, again. Fifty days seems like enough time to prepare two monologues, two songs, refresh my mind on sight singing and know the basics of dance but in reality, it’s just cutting it short.
I just made my final selections of monologues and songs last week, feeling extremely confident that these songs and these monologues will showcase me at my best. A year ago, I picked songs that I felt suited my voice well but were no way near characters I could ever play in a show. I corrected my huge mistake and picked an extremely up-tempo belty song with a contrasting airy ballad that is a complete 360 from my up-tempo of characters I could easily portray. As confident as I am with the choices I’ve made, a little voice in the back of my head keeps telling me I should choose a ballad that shows off my upper register; I’m a soprano and an alto. Both pieces are relatively in the same range which show me off best but I’m not showing more that I can give. I’m scared I’m staying on the safe side- being on the safe side isn’t a bad thing but I need to do well the second time around.
Monologues are the hardest things to find in the world. Just when you think you’ve found the right monologue, it isn’t a contrast or big enough contrast to one you’ve already found. That’s pretty much my story when it comes to monologues. I’ve had a dramatic monologue picked out for a good month-and-a-half that I knew from the start I wanted to use but finding a comedic monologue is a whole new story. Comedic monologues is a territory I don’t cross; ever. I’m not confident with comedic monologues because I don’t see myself as someone who can successfully perform anything comedic. I tried once before and failed miserably. Given the situation, I have no choice but to perform something comedic. What better way to try out comedy than in an audition? I might be crazy for doing this but if I don’t take a chance, I’ll be in the same little bubble I was last year. I’d rather go for it and fail miserably than not try and stay in my comfort zone.
How do I feel? I feel nervous. I’m nervous I’m wasting my time auditioning for a program that might not accept me. I’m scared I’m going to make all the mistakes I made the first time again. I feel afraid. I’m afraid that I’ll just be making some big fool out of myself. Even with all this fear inside me, I’m really excited. I find myself privileged because I have this second chance to show some changes in songs and monologues, demonstrate the growth I’ve made in a year and during the semester in acting. Most importantly, I get to make a second first impression. I might be remembered, I might not but either way I get to make a more memorable first entrance rather than the entrance of a timid/shy girl I was a year ago. If I don’t take this chance, I won’t be able to go on with the rest of college because all I’ll be saying is, “What if…?”. I try to avoid that phrase any way I can. I won’t feel settled if I don’t audition again.
To wrap this post up, here’s my view on auditioning: If I get accepted? I guess I’m doing something right; I’ll be more than just happy. If I get rejected? That’s okay- life goes on. I’m not going to cry or hide under a rock; I’m going to keep going on with my life. A program won’t define my talent, ability, success or any of that. I might not be what they want or need but that’s life. Rejections are just part of the business- there’s no way of getting around it. Regardless, I’m still auditioning and I’m still putting myself out there; that’s all I can do. Besides, that’s what I’m going to be doing for the rest of my life; putting myself out there and hoping for the best! It’s all or nothing from here- all I can do is give this audition everything I got! From here on out, I regret nothing.
“If your dreams don’t scare you, they aren’t big enough.” Ellen Johnson