I confess, I have really struggled with this weeks post. My research didn’t leave me with much for today’s date, except a Hedda Hopper article naming Marilyn “The Blow Torch Blonde” in the Chicago Tribune. But after hours of searching I couldn’t find the article to draw inspiration.
Six or seven Ideas later; The right idea still hasn’t clicked. & my time has run out. I know I’m NOT obliged to post every week, but I truly love what I’m doing, meeting fellow classic Hollywood fans and allowing myself the creative outlet. With so much of the arts industry still out of action, this gives my inner artist a sense of purpose and focus for the intermission of life we currently find ourselves in. Although hope is on the horizon! (News to come soon!)
I started just playing word association with myself, what it means to be an actor: what the job consists of. Storytelling. Which usually entails words. Scripts. Memorization.
Which lead me to this:
As I was sat in my dressing gown, with a messy pile of scripts, receipts and notepads to my left… I finally thought “this works.”
There’s been an interesting history of Marilyn, lines & takes on set. But further reading tells me that it wasn’t because she couldn’t, but a speech disorder and ever growing drug dependency that, at times, hindered her. She dealt with a stammer her whole life, and the breathy tones we all associate her with were developed through popular therapy treatments for stammers in the 1950’s.
Memorizing words is just a foundational step for any actor. And from years of class and books I have endless respect for the writers words. They give you clues, but also a blue print. It’s not our place as an artist to paraphrase on stage/set, but to decipher why those words, at that time and place and make it work!
I admit; I’m not happy with how my hair turned out. It desperately needs a cut to help my curls come back to life. I need to visit the salon for my eyebrows and nails. The logical side of me understands that these are things other people won’t even notice, or judge, but on a side note; they are all things that make ME feel better. I spent a few hours getting frustrated, returning back to the curling iron, judging myself in the mirror and on camera. It felt like the universe was trying to send me a message about this weeks moment.
So at 1am, still not satisfied, I decided to just let this be.
Not every step we take as artists, or just as humans is a giant successful leap. Not every song is a hit, not every painting is a Mona Lisa. But it all tells a story. It all counts. It all has a place.
So today, this is my little moment.
If you’re still here.
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