Just Be Kevin Bacon.

Tremors, 1990

A #reminder that I have not abandoned you all.

It’s been a week since my return to NY. My first full week here. It’s had the lifecycle of like larvae to butterfly, too.

If I were to share the other posts I had written – it would be depressing. And for the record, I’m not against that. If you’re going to follow me I should warn you now, this is a facet. That’s not meant to sound romantic or casual or dramatic, either. I’m much better now than I have ever been (in terms of health, attitude and just overall ability to manage mood).

Larvae: Have felt fragile, insecure, afraid (in moments) and… insular. Which is really the perfect word. And, I’m happy to say, I do actually know what it means. Sometimes I find myself using words that I could have only learned through osmosis. Insular is one of those words.

I’ll give you some of the highlights whilst I’ve been questioning my existence.

Personal faves:

What the fuck are you doing out here?

What is the most important thing – what is the thing that matters more to me than all the other things? (No answer.)

Do I really want to be actor?

No, no I don’t want to be an actor… Great.

Oh Reba

I have felt like a perfumed wispy entity floating around – no moors, no tethers. None of those facets of ‘routine’ which ground us and tell us who we are. I have no idea who I am out here. Being afraid to take the subway because I don’t 100% know where I’m going and people will notice and they will feel sorry for me or I’ll be in the way. It’s these moments when we truly have to hold ourselves, because just thinking of it brings tears to my eyes. Reminds me of that horrible, retreating, small feeling that flashes up and fills your chest, hot, and you know, without words to address it, that you are truly the poorest creature man hath beheld. And that sounds pathetic and whimsical and it isn’t at all. I know that feeling so intimately it’s like I’m looking at a puppy on the street who has no home.

So there was THAT. Aren’t you glad I shared?

My precious Belgian chair, early 1900s, from Luc and Danette, Prospect Park W

More advanced larvae: There was also the practicalities. I’ve just moved, so there are basics I am without – a chair, storage, a mirror, towels, bed sheets, INTERNET. YOU KNOW. JUST LIKE THE SHIT YOU CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT. A yoga mat so I can do the aforementioned stretches for my miserable valiant (perfect beautiful) body. Complicating matters is the fact that I’m insane/a masochist (that’s a word I actually don’t understand) because I have to (HAVE TO) examine every option, pursue every lead, chase every sale, really get the full breadth of all my options online, and then some in the neighborhood, before deciding that I am unwilling to buy new objects, where can be avoided, and will buy recycled objects, as a means of protecting the environment #doingmypart. I am proud to say that not only have I found beautiful (albeit few) items, they are old, character-rich, in good repair and very reasonably priced.

I purposefully put this blog on hold so that I could focus on getting my place/head/body together, prior to the start of this week (Monday 2/11). And by most accounts it has worked, with the exception of: my sleep schedule is still fraught.

And as further proof I have not been whiling away in fruitless endeavors – I went to a Shakespeare play, sent 5 email pitches for roles I might be right for, built social capital (one writer, one director/actor, one singer/artist, one actress), watched two and a half movies, spent two hours working on a new script idea, started ‘The Feminine Mystique’, had one D&M (deep and meaningful) convo about art, writing, scriptwriting, film, history etc., and if that weren’t enough – decided that YES I am going to do this blog, in spite of doubts I have had, and that with that decision, I will do it right.

Butterfly: Today I purchased ‘selfishactress.com’ (fuck yeah) and am in the process of setting up my WordPress blog. This started really because I don’t like that a person can’t comment readily on my blog. That’s not a feature Wix allows without registering on a person’s site. And who the fuck is gonna take the time to do that. No one. I wouldn’t. Which lead me down a rabbit hole of ‘do I have the right blogging materials,’ and then further to, do I want to be a BLOGGER???

No, no I do not. That’s not the point of this. It really isn’t. This is largely an accountability tool. But since I’m doing it, maybe I shouldn’t worry about these largely made-up situations, or that I will become known as a blogger as opposed to an actor or writer or artist. In the words of Julianna Pirillo – ‘It’s rubbish. Just do it.’ She also said many other beautiful and eloquent things that were so on point and felt like divine intervention. This is one facet of me, it is one expression of me. It is not the entirety. I don’t need to worry about everyone’s opinion or if these choices are the right choices. Doing more art in one thing inspires more art in another – that I do believe is true.

But I’ll end it here (for tonight). Despite what Google says, I don’t think longer is better.

Bringing it back: Shout-out to my new roommate, Edan, who introduced me to Tremors. Which I would never have watched otherwise. That movie is great – it’s beautifully shot (NEVADA omg & I miss film), and it’s a perfect expression of what it is. Kevin Bacon can do anything. Seriously, he’s brilliant. Redneck, bum, scientist, boy next door, badass. That felt like a character study. Because it goes very much against what I’ve been yammering on about – naturalism in film, docu-style, European cinema – but it is so good at what it is. Felt like watching a play. (Also, rest of cast - #FredWard #RebaMcEntire fab).

So. In conclusion, just be Kevin Bacon, Katie! I’m Kevin Bacon.