A Simple Twist of Fate
My namesake, Bob Dylan, once sang, “Blame it on a simple twist of fate.”
Circumstance allows me to pursue the artistic path I choose, but a simple twist of fate (or two or three) set my universe into motion to make me the committed artist I am today.
Taking the stage at six years old and being terrified as hell can be a regular occurrence for kids. For many, it is a doorway into exploring art in early childhood. Being thrown into a school play or picking up a musical instrument is part of social-emotional learning. Usually, you lose interest around the high school age or select just one path to follow or start playing sports to keep active. I have never been good at boxes and my artistic and academic pursuits are no exception.
“I’m a man of contradictions, I’m a man of many moods. I contain multitudes.”
Bob Dylan
At seven years old, my parents were late picking me up from callbacks for the school play, Alice in Wonderland. Callbacks are just the second round of auditions where people come in and all read for the same part, so the director can finally cast the show. Mostly, this after-school-play business was a way to keep kids occupied in a basic daycare setting that is artistically fulfilling and fun. Since my parents were running behind, I was with the few kids still reading for callbacks in front of the director. As one of the younger kids in this grade-school production, I wasn’t up for a big part, so there was no pressure to perform. I enjoyed watching the older kids take notes from the director and perform the roles in different ways in response to her feedback.
Listening to Liorah, our director, I was riveted by the way she described the different characters. At one point, she described the infamous White Rabbit as an energetic, frenetic, and worried creature. She began shaking parts of her body to demonstrate the White Rabbit’s nervous energy. I have never been known for staying quiet (this day was no exception) and was enjoying this performance so much, I suddenly jumped in, saying, “Oh yeah, like THIS!” I hopped around singing, “I’m late, I’m late, for a very important date!” Running around the room in a frenzy, I was spurred on by everyone in the room laughing at my antics. Liorah was so delighted with my improvisational performance that she gave me the part. I had never had a role with a whole solo song and LINES before.
Looking back, I think about the innocent boldness that that kid had to throw herself into that role and courageously occupy a space that wasn’t hers (yet). In some ways, I have had to rediscover that love of space and owning my voice, although I (hopefully) have gotten better about more appropriately “jumping in.” Once I hit puberty, I think I lost a lot of that courage, and focused on making myself as small as possible. I have spent the last few years gaining it back. There is a fulfilling lack of self-consciousness required when you step into being another person for the first time. Discovering a new character as an actor for me feels like expanding my empathy as a person. Making people laugh at me became my drug of choice, a way to light up a world that sometimes left me sitting alone in the dark.
“He not busy being born is busy dying.”
Bob Dylan
A couple of years later, I built on that initial acting desire. I felt as passionate about animals as I did about performing. I had learned that artists had “causes” they cared about and wanted to make art that reflected important issues. I concocted the idea of Save the Animals; I would write a musical about how to save all the animals on Earth and perform it for massive crowds. After months of second-grade-recess-rehearsals with four of my best friends, I made my directorial debut for a modest crowd of our family and friends. Packed full of songs, we performed it in my best friend Veronica's backyard and taught our audiences how to save the animals through spreading awareness, feeding pets, and working together. It was a fundraiser and I was absolutely thrilled to raise $350. I was absolutely devastated to learn that the cause I was donating to, Habitat for Humanity, is actually for humans not animal habitats! A worthy cause, but looking back, maybe I didn’t think it all through.
“I’ll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin’, but I’ll know my song well before I start singin’.”
Bob Dylan
With adulthood comes pressure and anxiety. But my passion for the craft of acting has sustained me and reminds me that I am on the right path despite repeated challenges along the way. Those who successfully do art are those who just keep doing it. When I got to college and had to start working part time jobs, it was even more apparent that my art was what filled my emotional tank. My free moments are filled with what I want to continue to do in the future. Doing what I love isn’t a choice. It’s a need. Fulfilling my existential cup could make me millions or make me nothing, and I still want to do it. I recently did a sequence of auditions and callbacks and booked nothing, absolutely nothing. People around me were booking and I felt confident in my audition performances and still, I got nothing.
Picking myself back up after those failures gets easier every time. And even though it didn't end in a role, I still loved doing it. The opportunity to use words and my body to portray someone else for a while and make people laugh left me excited and grinning, instead of anxious and worried, which sometimes seems like my natural state. Discovering the things that bring me true joy, that don’t depend on the success of the outcome, is how I measure where I belong and what I need to do with my life.
It’s kind of like a break up. Breakups are so difficult because you had something magical and then it disappears and you never get it back. However, knowing you had that magic once, spurs you to keep looking for that joy again, even at the risk of another heartbreak. Performing is the same thing to me. If I had never done it, if I had never had those little moments both good and challenging that brought me to where I am, I would never have known how fulfilled I could feel doing what I love. I would never know that that was the thing I loved. And if you never experience love, how do you know when you have something great?
“I became withdrawn, the only thing I knew how to do was to keep on keeping on like a bird that flew, tangled up in blue.”
Bob Dylan
At the end of 2023, I got dumped after five years, and a few days later I had to euthanize my cat of 14 years. I lost my two closest friends in a flash. It was also just a couple of weeks ahead of flying across the world to spend four months working on my theatre degree in London at the British American Drama Academy. A world that was filled with vibrant color suddenly seemed dull and gray. My desire to travel and follow my dreams was suddenly countered with a wave of despair for what I had to unexpectedly sacrifice to take advantage of this amazing opportunity. My future suddenly looked completely different than what I had imagined. When my grieving lessened enough to get through the day and I landed in London, color started gradually seeping back in. Not all at once, but with slow, beautiful, and heartbreaking moments. The joy mingled with the loss and everything that existed around me stopped feeling like only subtraction.
Art literally saved my life. Being steeped in acting eight hours a day, five days a week in a foreign setting brought me back to life. Suddenly, my energy poured out of me and into what I was doing; and I felt fulfilled in a way I had never experienced. I spent so much emotional energy on my ex-boyfriend, and then on my sweet cat, and then on my survival, that I forgot about what really drove me forward. It wasn’t just about the love of acting, it was about what I needed to survive. If I have me, that is enough to create and I know my creations are the reason I was put on this planet.
All of these moments and experiences have led me to standing where I am today, confident in my failures and honest in my achievements. No matter what life throws at me, I have what I need to create inside of me and no one can take that away from me.
As my namesake once cried, “Trust yourself to know the way that will prove true in the end.”
Bob Dylan
