October 2 - Day 15

At the beginning of every acting class we have to present our ‘Impressions’ of life here in Moscow. Typically it is just a brief antidote about something that happened to us or something we saw, and how that experience has affected us. We have been commanded to continually observe life, noting the feelings that are conjured within us. As actors these emotions are our tools and the idea is to hone our ability to recall the internal and external manifestations of those emotions. It is a constant state of self-reflection and it is incredibly taxing. I am learning so much about life here. Anatoly talks frequently about MXAT being mirror to life in Moscow. For me, Moscow is becoming the mirror of my life. It is complex place, filled with so many contradicting ideas. It is at once the most beautiful and ugly place I have ever been. It is the combination of lightness with so much residue of dark. There are so many stories I have neither time or desire to record about my experiences here but none the less they will forever be woven into the fabric of my being. That is the power of this place, these people and the work I am doing here - and today, more so than any day I have had yet, Moscow has given me endless ‘Impressions.’ I woke up this morning with a familiar pain in my chest. I haven’t had much time for it since I’ve been here and had almost believed it was gone. I felt like losing myself in the anonymity of the city so I snuck out before anyone else got up and wandered through the streets of Moscow, segregated from the crowds by my big sunglasses, headphones and a winter scarf covering most of my face. I choked back my tears, furious at myself for being sad or homesick or confused. I wanted to put back on those rosy-tinted glasses and believe for a while longer that getting on a plane and flying half way around the world would instantly give me all the answers I have been searching for. A homeless man approached me, pleading for money in Russian. He got too close and his words penetrated the shield I had put up against the outside world. I let out this involuntary shriek, less like a scream and more like a guttural moan, the fresh wounds of my aching heart having seized in the chilly morning air. The tears started to run down my cheeks and the haggard man looked at me with a sympathy too knowing for a world-weary stranger. My insides just felt off and familiar themes flooded my mind. I had reached this very zen-like place before I left St. Louis where I began to embrace the notion that those things beyond my control are in fact subjects over which I should not and cannot worry. It was the most liberating realization I have ever had. So why then was I suddenly consumed with so many inconsequential issues that are so very far from me in time and place? I am here in this place, doing this work, dealing with these conflicts of culture. That is more than enough to deal with on its own. And as I am frequently reminded here, the past is past. But the human being does not function like a light switch and I guess it takes time for the heart to learn lessons the brain has already figured out. The thing I love about the theatre is the ability it gives me to leave the problems of my world at the door and while they will surely be waiting for me when I leave, for the time I have within the safety of that space, none of it matters. That is a gift I have regained in coming to MXAT. I managed to compose myself by the time I made it to the school and almost stayed that way until class. Unfortunately when I decided to take advantage of the free greenroom computer and read an unsettling email from LA it all came flooding back and I sat there, surrounded by people I barely know, balling my eyes out. Up until this point, I have done my best to maintain a certain level of maturity with my classmates, so that in case someone starts freaking out there is at least one rational person in the room – not an easy task when you stick 35 actors together, far from home, in a supremely difficult country. I felt like such an idiot, blubbering like a little girl, but everyone just acted like it was a non-issue. We are all dealing with so much. I don’t think you come half-way around the world to a place like MXAT unless you are looking for Something. To everyone it seemed perfectly natural to be sad about stupid things. They were genuinely supportive with an ease that only comes from true understanding. I looked around at these people I barely know, who are just beginning to start asking questions like, ‘What the hell am I going to do with the rest of my life?’ and felt for the first time like this might be a family – a great big dysfunctional family - but a phenomenal one. There are only 35 people in the whole world who will know what this is like and I am so unbelievably fortunate that they seem to be people of integrity and heart, who seem to get in the same way I do, why we love this craziness, this process, more than anything else.