I went to see the play
Equus last night, put on by Nearly Naked Theatre in Phoenix.
(For those of you who don't remember,
Equus is the play that
Daniel Radcliffe performed in a few years back and everyone flipped out
because his role required full-frontal nudity. And holy hell,
full-frontal nudity there is! Both male and female.)
The show was phenomenal. It was long, but fascinating and deliciously
cerebral. The story is a strange one, about a boy who randomly blinds
six horses with a metal spike and the psychiatrist who takes on his
case. But it delves into so many topics with abandon; religion,
sexuality, psychology, family, emotional development...I was rapt.
Even though I haven't been active in some time, I still keep a close
eye on the goings-on in the local theater scene here in Phoenix. Awhile
back, I saw an audition notice for
Equus. They had already cast
the main roles, but were looking for actors/dancers to play the six
horses. I immediately got the shivers. I wanted to do it so badly. I had
every reason to: I'm a dancer, so the movement wouldn't be difficult
for me. My favorite step in ballet is the
pas de cheval, which translates to "step of the horse." I've even played a horse before in a musical called
Man of La Mancha
a few years back (and fucking rocked if I do say so myself). And yet,
something kept me from sending in my headshot and resume. I had some
concrete personal reasons...I don't have loads of time/energy to spare
so rehearsing and performing may have been difficult on top of
school/work, I was shy about wearing the sexy costumes (click on the link at the end of the entry, then ENTER to see what the male horses wore), and even more shy about the scars that cover my legs which would undoubtedly be on display if I was cast.
I realized last night that all those reasons were stupid.
The horses entered and moved gracefully and beautifully across the
stage, wearing their gorgeous headpieces which transformed them into the
illusion of horses, and I was immediately filled with so much regret. I
could have pulled off the female costumes, and the scars would've been
camouflaged by fishnet thigh-high stockings. I was only half-surprised
when I felt myself starting to cry. I had missed out on an absolutely
INCREDIBLE opportunity for reasons I thought were valid, but were really
just paralyzing fear. I was scared of being vulnerable onstage again,
scared of balancing school/work and rehearsals/performances, scared of
meeting new people and experiencing new things. I was just fucking
scared. Of everything.
I've always been scared. I'm a scared person with a lot of fears;
some rational, some irrational. There was a period in my life where I
was able to push through that fear and do scary things. I made myself do
scary things, and often. But now I'm right back where I started from.
Looking at the audition notice for a role I'm perfect for, and turning
away to hide under the covers; acting like it's no big deal that I'm
chickening out. It IS a big deal. This paralyzing fear is taking over my
whole life and I can't stand it anymore.
So I'm done. I want to do scary things again. I don't want to miss out on opportunities like
Equus
anymore. I want to believe that I can handle scary things when I need
to; that in the end they'll be beneficial to me and my life. Six
gorgeous humans-as-horses have inspired me to not be scared.
I started that night. I walked straight up to the director of the
show and introduced myself. We've been Facebook friends for a couple
years (long story as to how that happened) but I've always been too shy
to meet him in person. But we finally met last night. It felt good to
overcome a fear, even if it was just a small one.
I don't want to be scared anymore. So I won't.
P.S. I might go see
Equus again this weekend. If you get a
chance and live in the Phoenix area, SEE IT. Even if you only go for the
naked people. :) It's a great show. Visit
http://www.nearlynakedtheatre.org for more information about the show and this great little theater company.
