legendary

"But it doesn't really matter what a man does in his life. All that really matters in the end is the legend that grows up around him."
- Jerry Divine/Velvet Goldmine

In my community of theatre-makers, we have a kind of relegion, a unique brand of faith that helps us keep on truckin' through the stack-ups of rejection. Catch-phrases, susperstitions, dream boards, and positive visualization. Tarot cards, diary entries, poetry and emblems of the future. And constant feedback and support lent to one another, reinforcing the fact that we are deserving, and entitled to our own success. There is not a working day that passes me by where I do not think:

What have I done for my career today?

or run over the series of warnings and firestarters that my business teacher - the teacher I fancied the least during school but whose advice I valued the highest upon graduation - repeated to us on early mornings in the dance studio:

Only you can get in the way of your own success.
Get up every day and take a step.
Who are you, and why should I know you?

Nowadays, no matter what you do, if you are waltzing in the realm of the entertainment world, you have to be prepared for branding. My graduating class was packed to the gills with talent - 26 of us, rarin' to go take on the big bad world. The red doors closed forever in May 2007. It's September 2009 and I can count the amount of those left fighting the good fight on my fingers. And it all comes down to the wretched wrestling match between art and marketing. Creating characters vs. selling yourself.

Sure, you can play a mean Medea, but why the hell should I cast you?

I sound like one of those magnets I'm always tempted to buy from Barnes & Noble: Life isn't about finding yourself; it's about creating yourself.

Well, no shit. Why the musing, Maggie Moon?

Because, as I brushed my teeth tonight and thought about what I did for my career today, while a good half of it was actual art-making, the things I was most pleased about fell more in the category of self-improvement and self-sales:

A yoga class. A finely composed email. A perusal of a business deal. An outfit I felt fit to converse with important people in.

Yeah, I rehearsed, I made script cuts, I learned how to make a ninja mask out of a t-shirt. I picked out sound cues and had fun with actors. But my mind circles back to a moment, walking out of yoga with Daisy and putting my sunglasses on. Where for a split second, the weird little catch-phrasey law of attraction based faith I subscribe to works, and I feel like Maggie Levin, Writer Director Producer Extraordinaire, strong and sweaty and sexy, next to her best friend the Almighty Actress. And we walk off into the sun to get Starbucks.

What have I done for my career today?

Well, for exactly 30 seconds, I felt exactly like I want to feel all the time.

In other news, Rusty, my fella, is lookin hella gorgeous:

over on the left, there, with the long hair.

He's been rockin' out with Dizzy Balloon on their tour this month. I miss the heck out of him.

Til next time,
Ms. Moon