Another mark in The Column of All Things Cool is that I was given the shoes to take home and start breaking in.  I’m sure we can all remember my, um, “issues” with costume shoes.  Seriously – a month in advance – how often does that happen?!  I wore them this morning while I did the dishes.  I love our costumer.

As for things I don’t love – I do not love how harrowing the research can be.  I was reading A Night to Remember in bed Sunday night and couldn’t keep from sobbing – one chapter in particular just pushed me right over the edge, and it was a two-handkerchief ordeal from that point forward.  Accidentally woke my mate.  I have heretofore resolved to banish any and all Titanic research from the reading-at-bedtime ritual.  Jane Austen prevails.

On the other hand, since last writing here I participated in a two-performance run of Adam Symkowicz’ Captivity Plays, did eleven voice-overs for the Supervalu chain of grocery stores (Albertson’s, Cub, Jewel/Osco, Bigg’s, Shaw’s & Star Market, Hornbacher’s, etc., which should be playing all over the U.S. right now), recorded a tv demo for Nexxus hair care products, formalized my involvement in this year’s Fringe Festival, and started research for my role in the upcoming Titanic exhibition at the Science Museum of Minnesota.

And yet I still feel like it’s not enough; like I’m missing out on something. I’m ravenous. Insatiable.

Perchance this means it’s time to cut the excuses and dedicate myself to my craft; no more coasting.

Kids! Tune in next week to see how long this particular brand of inspiration lasts!

I, Leigha Catherine Horton, being of dubious “sound mind,” officially endured 18 months of legalized self-initiated torture, and on March 3, 2009, with the determination that my treatment was complete, had my braces removed. I’m like a shiny new raw-vegetable-eating girl with fabulously straight teeth and a brand-new confident smile. Even now, a month later, I go from quiet delight to spazzy-thrilled and back again without notice. A far cry from the generally ill-disposed and/or bitterly pained swings that, um, “colored” the last 18 months. To put it lightly, that shit HURT. But, this process was way, way overdue and I am now stupidly happy.

And okay, so technically I’m not entirely done yet. I have three weeks remaining with the Invisalign on my upper teeth, but they’re damn near perfect now. And I couldn’t be more thrilled. I’d probably cry if I could somehow stop grinning like a silly idiot. It’s wonderful.

UPDATE 4/21/09 (because Meghan made a valid point in her comment):

As if there ever was any doubt whatsoever – I am the stereotypical “needy” actor. If I remember correctly, my last director opted for the term “psychotic.” Lovingly.  It’s important to remind myself of this, lest I wind back up in the downy comfort of denial – “no, no –I’m different.  I hate needy actors.  I consider myself one of the few performers who can actually function normally in civilized society.”  Because man, that warm blanket is co-ZY.  And it is a harsh awakening to have that ripped off the bed.  Which happens.  A lot.

In times like these I’ve learned that my calendar is one of scant wormholes back to this particular reality (and God bless Moleskine). An hour spent with my little black book, a pad of paper, and a pen is easily worth several weeks of therapy.  I leaf through, page by page, writing down all my performance projects since the start of the year.  That said, I invite you to join me in an exercise for sanity – behold this year’s accomplishments, thus far:

1/04/08 – Voice-over gig for the Kansas City Lottery
1/07/08 – Joined AFTRA
1/28/08 – Voice-over gig for LifeTime Fitness
2/07/08 – (and onward) Performed in the Twin Cities Chekhov Festival
2/23/08 – Performed “Mrs. Man of God” in Columbus, Ohio
3/01/08 – Performed as the Red Carpet host for the Shack Nasty Costume Ball
3/24/08 – Performed in a round-table reading at The Playwrights’ Center
4/06/08 – Performed via video in Gremlin Theater’s “Everywhere Signs Fall”
4/21/08 – Performed in a round-table reading at The Playwrights’ Center
4/30/08 – Voice-over gig for Landscape Structures Inc’s GlobalReleaf Project
5/07/08 – Voice-over gig for Cellular South
5/10/08 – Performed as a defendant in Faegre + Benson’s mock trials
5/12/08 – Performed in a round-table reading at The Playwrights’ Center
6/11/08 – Voice-over gigs (two) for Target (HP Pavilion and Toshiba Laptops)
7/11/08 – (and onward) Performed in “Slasher,” as part of The Playwrights’ Center’s annual PlayLabs series
8/11/08 – (and onward) Rehearsed for + performed in “Wellstone!”
9/05/08 – Voice-over gig for Kona Grill
10/07/08 – Performed in a round-table reading at The Playwrights’ Center
10/29/08 – Voice-over gigs (seven) for General Mills’ Totino’s Pizza products
11/16/08 – Begin rehearsals for and performance in “A Christmas Story” in St. Croix Falls, WI

Add to that nine other “close calls” and castings that didn’t work out due to schedule conflicts, and that’s not a bad year.  Big breath in…..ahhhhhhh, reality.  So nice to be home.

As may be apparent from my silence since the last post over 20 days ago, I’ve recently fallen into an artistic Dark Age – sure, as the analogy demands, I have been doing things…they just haven’t been documented.  My artistic progress as of late has been at the mercy of our generation’s Economic Armageddon, the struggle to find and land work, and the upcoming (and terrifying, I might add) Presidential election (seriously – the opposition’s VP candidate/huntress-of-the-north somehow miraculously makes George W. Bush sound like an informed, oratory genius.  Whaaaa?).  But the launch of MinnesotaPlaylist was just the glimmer of light I needed.  The first issue of their magazine asked of essayists (one is Miss Mo Perry, the best button in all the land) “what is the function of the performing arts?”

Good question.  A question that I feel compelled to (at least partially) address. Especially when arts funding is most certainly bound to vaporize in attempt to keep other necessities afloat.

Just last week I ran into a local filmmaker at my favorite coffee shop, and while we were catching up he lamented about the same Dark Age feeling.  I remarked that artists are the cockroaches of society – we survive through it all.  I had intended it to be funny.  And yet many a truth is said in jest – due to the great undervaluing of the arts as a whole, a majority of us live in poverty or near-poverty to begin with, so when crisis hits there’s not much for us to lose.  We’re accustomed to living frugally.  And frankly, our art often seems more poignant in the face of adversity – economic, political, social, environmental – performing arts give voice to the voiceless.  It questions.  It provokes.  And on the other side of every major low point in history is artistic documentation by way of commentary and entertainment.  In our most recent history the intense popularity of the cinema during the Great Depression comes to mind.

And don’t get me started on all the proven benefits of the arts in communities – the tangible, dramatic affect on quality of life and social justice and economic vitality.  The Minnesota State Arts Board can enlighten you with all the stats you’d ever want to know on the matter.

To me, personally, the performing arts are an integral part of the world as we know it.  A body isn’t much use without a brain.  And a brain is certainly of no use without a body.  As such – the performing arts, the brain – are certainly of no use without the world to give them a home.  I believe it follows that the world is not much use without the performing arts to contextualize it.  To offer a beautiful escape, a cunning design, a scathing evaluation.  This mystifying world makes sense through the filter of art.  This mundane world becomes mystical through the filter of art.

Indeed, we may be poor, but our riches are endless.

Me:  oh, just acting my brains out…
Him:  (hazily) wait – were you IN the show?
Me: (laughing) yes –
Him: (immediately) oh, yes – you were WONDERFUL as Sheila!
Me: Uhhhhh…
Editorial aside:  Uhhhhh = I am one of two women in the cast; Muriel, an incredible woman 20 years my senior, plays Sheila; I play every. single. other. woman (something like 17 characters) on stage.  At that point, Mr. State Representative looked around and was met by a mortified look from a teenage girl I assumed was his daughter.
Me: (laughing) sounds like somebody got in a good nap during the show!
Him: (silence followed by some incoherent apologetic stammering)

Wellstone Wonderbit #2:
While we’ve had wee audiences since opening Wellstone!, they’ve been exceptionally engaged and appreciative – offering up standing ovations every single night.  Except for last Wednesday, which was canceled due to no audience.  I’m serious.  Okay, fine, we had one pre-sale and two walk-ups.  Still, canceled.  The plus side is that I get to chalk that up as a personal first – I don’t think I’ve ever had a performance canceled before.

Granted, Wednesday was the night that Sarah Palin took the podium at the RNC, and I’m almost positive that Twin Cities audiences were just as curious as I was to get any ounce of information I could about this moderately alarming enigma.  When a newbie with destructive views against women’s rights glides on to the scene with the potential to be President after a smudge of bad foie gras, you’d best pay attention.

Wellstone Wonderbit #3:
Remember when I was led to my performance of Mrs. Man of God in Ohio by Barack Obama?  Last week I passed John McCain’s miles-long motorcade on the freeway going the opposite direction.  How beautifully symbolic.  Thank you, universe.

To add to my high hopes and overall Fringe delight, I ran into my two favorite Johns (NO! Mind out of the gutter! Now!), John Trones and John Mikkelsen, and was able to “interview” them in line:

Much to my chagrin, I wasn’t the only one with the identical plan of seeing a promising show first thing, and I hadn’t made reservations. Therefore, I, and 30 of my closest line-standers were turned away after the venue reached capacity. Except the Johns. They got in. Lucky bastards. Stupidly, I neglected to bring my schedule, and decided to walk back home:

I was planning to spend the next 15 blocks wallowing in my dejection, but instead made a sweet little discovery at Bryant Square:

So, tonight was a bust for Fringeing, but a win nonetheless for Minneapolis.

And, my promise to you for future audio ventures: I’ll try to do better with the microphone – tonight provided some pretty obnoxious audio, and even worse external monologue. But, I guess that’s what the Fringe is for – experimentation. I can’t always sound like I’m going to sell the hell out of a computer.

(Did you follow that last link? See what I did there? – it’s called “redemption.” Shut up. It’s my blog.)

Which brings me to the following public love-letter to the creators/writers of Slings & Arrows, a bitingly accurate and stunningly hilarious Canadian television show following a loose-cannon director, the gritty rehearsal process, and the bureaucratic hell of arts administration. It is brilliance. Having worked for fifteen years as a performer, five years in arts administration, and a year in a granting organization, this show slays every single aspect…from the fights with Development over corporate sponsor logo placement to the angst of the performing apprentices in the wake of some diva’s breakdown. And yes, in case anyone was wondering, it appears that being a stage manager really is as thankless as it looks – those people should be sainted.

Written by Mark McKinney of The Kids in the Hall, playwright Susan Coyne (who coincidentally plays here one of the best understated comedic roles of all time), and a comedian named Bob Martin, it served as a perfect peek backstage for my non-theater-person mate…finally something that accurately demonstrates what I experience during rehearsals; because really, there are no words that do rehearsals justice. Granted, there are plenty of over-the-top ridiculous elements in the script, but for the most part this is spot-on honest in its portrayal of life backstage. Paul Gross nails the role of the director – an incredibly nuanced performance that had me awed into silence and energized simultaneously. THIS is really, really good television.

And here, compliments of the series of tubes known as internets, are the first ten minutes.  Enjoy.

As an adult, I was reminded of this long-forgotten love off-handedly – (the tall green guy, not the short blonde kid) probably during some late-night inane party conversation about hot cartoon characters. The oddity of that particular recollection stayed with me and I began to dissect it. What was the draw? Why did I foster the notion that I would be forever safe in the arms of a cartoon character created to push broccoli? I finally decided that on a subconscious level, I found him strong and handsome; he was an embodiment of all masculinity: husband, teacher, protector.

Around this same time of curiosity and subsequent dissection, I purchased XTC’s stunningly beautiful album, Apple Venus, Vol. 1. In it is a song called Greenman, which is about the pagan mythological being purported to be the male yang to mother nature’s yin. The song is immense in its orchestration, yet simple and pure in lyrics, a fitting musical ode to the essence of the idea. It was then that it hit me: the Greenman was the adult manifestation of my childhood Jolly Green Giant. He was present in my consciousness before I even knew what to make of him…that makes me…a dirty pagan hippy. HELL YES!

None of this should have come as a surprise – I have harbored a long love affair with nature. I have spent countless hours in the wilderness contemplating trees, paddling through still waters, communing with fauna, awed by the richness of this earth and appreciatively breathing clean air. And recently I’ve forged a new relationship with vegetable gardening – I’ve planted tomatoes, cucumbers, lettuces, herbs, and strawberries, and walked away dirty, soaked from rain, grounded, and happy.

So now we get to the point of reference for this here green room – the way this all relates to my life as a performing artist. Yes, yes, I’m big on exposition, whatever, my point is more supported if I take you along on this ride rather than just slap down meaningless truths without background. As I was saying:

The point of reference to my life as a performing artist is twofold, really: one, pushing soil through my fingers gives me a basis for reality, for the tangible. We as actors often get so swept up into our own dramas and the delving into character minutiae that we lose ourselves completely. I do indeed have my head in the clouds, but this makes me stretch my legs extra-long, to keep my feet on the ground at the same time.

Two, this relates to one of my more recent voice-over gigs for a video which highlights the relationship between a decades-old green company called Landscape Structures, Inc., and the American Forests’ Global ReLeaf initiative. That last sentence sounds like a commercial, I know, but bear with me here – before we began recording, the producer/director sat me down and explained to me the history of the organization, and explained, in detail, their participation in Global ReLeaf. It was incredibly fulfilling to not only do the voice-over work in the studio, but to participate in something I support whole-heartedly. Just posting the name of the company and the raw audio, as I did below, without video animation, without music, without context, seemed too cold, too irreverent.

I feel better now. And you have good ammo for the next time you want to embarrass me. “Ho, ho, ho!”

I found myself pained by the dilemma this caused: during the second half of the filming dates I was scheduled to visit my family in San Diego, and introduce my beau of 1.25 years to my California Parents. Plane tickets were purchased, rental car was reserved, lodging was secured, and California Parents were counting down the days.

Either the vacation with my far-off folks had to be shelved, or the possibility of filming had to be shelved. There was no room for compromise.

Turns out the braces-in-my-faces ended up making the decision for me. I was told that the movie was set in the mid-60s. I was aware that the casting director was calling me in based on my headshots – both of which feature a closed mouth. On purpose. I hated my teeth when those were taken, and had every intention of getting braces. I now have those braces (just eight more months to go – thank god). I can’t imagine that braces in a movie would be a big deal, except for the fact that the braces I have today were not invented until 1972. NINETEEN SEVENTY-FREAKING-TWO. I would have walked onto the set with a giant anachronism epoxied to my face. I shared that with my agent, who then politely declined with the casting director on my behalf.

Ahhhh, braces – fixing my teeth, and fixing my dilemmas. While I hate dilemmas, I still hate the braces more.