Yellow Carnation: May 2010

Okay, Molly. Here I am, blogging. At 1 in the morning.

I tried to sleep and it didn't work. I'm too... overwhelmed. and tired. and loving to give up on my blog. Mostly because of you, Malls-Balls.

Here goes. The beast you've been waiting for. (BUT There is some more I want to talk about later. My relationships with friends, guys, family, etc. But that's for a different post.)

Too many things have happened in the past three weeks. Three weeks ago, RENT closed. Here's what I remember: The feeling I had when I squeezed hands in the circle. I started to cry during the dinner before the show at Ruby's because of some bad news regarding some people in my past. I was a wreck. I broke down twice in an hour, once in front of my two closest friends. Then, right when the make-up had been reapplied, I had to step foot into the black box for our warm-up. We warmed up. We sang our "aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh (bum buuumm)"s. Then we got into our circle. Oh... that circle. I grabbed Mark and Molly and went to the side facing the window. Full Circle: The same view I remember from my freshman year warm-up, when we sang "Odin" and songs in round. Back to reality: we started singing the first two notes of "Seasons of Love" and I lost it. Right there. I couldn't sing, and the sadness filled through me. I took off my shoes to get more grounded, because the sure flow of this emotion was so strong and powerful that I was losing balance. I watched through my eyes like looking through those strategically blurred windows in bathrooms with outdoor-facing windows. The last note rang through, and I looked around and saw more and more puddles below my castmates. Lena made her beautiful speech. I can't believe these seniors I worked with hadn't done this before - and thank God they did, but I'll go into that later in this post. After Lena, it was Ms. Nordlund introducing me. She not only introduced me - she talked about me. I thought I could hold it together for my speech, but I was wrong. When the woman that kept you from leaving the best possible high school for you, who took you under her wing and loved you no matter what, the woman who became a second mother through your thousands of hours as her student, actress, advisee, and friend, and the woman who "kind of changed your life (as I so eloquently explained in my final speech in the coming moments)" openly expresses her reflection of the same care and kinship that you've felt for years on your final night under her direction, you breakdown. And that's what I did. And that sucked, because I had a speech to say, which left my mind completely... empty. I just said what I felt. It worked. It was raw, and it wasn't planned, but hey, I made Josh Cohen shed a tear, so I'm good. :) But honestly, the emotions that rushed through me when I cried openly during our original "1, 2, 3, 4, 5.." + booty-shaking/pelvis-thrusting with Brian, or when I hugged Mark for the last time before the lights went up and he said "break the biggest leg ever" or something like that, or when I hugged Ms. Nordlund and she said she loved me, or when I sobbed openly onstage with Molly during "Your Eyes," will never be duplicated. That night was the culmination of everything I've felt with loss and love. And one thing I've learned about loss and love is that they often are realized at the same time.

I went to the cast party, I came home. From that moment on, when I shut my eyes to sleep, my emotions went haywire for the Sunday after. I woke up and was in a complete state of numbness when I was silent. Every few minutes, I would whimper. I couldn't speak without crying, and Molly was very worried about me. I know this probably makes me sound crazy dramatic, but that's exactly what happened. And yes, it scared me too.

I quickly decided to make my huge English project that was due the next day about my experience with Rent. I cried while making it, didn't really know how I would make my thesis fit it, but realized some pretty important things about my life through that project. Here are some parts of my explication:

With the closing of my last performance at Chadwick, [...] I understood and recognized old and new relationships I’d formed and felt a rite of passage as I made my senior speech and sat on the stage after the finale and started at the empty seats. I've realized how important art has become to me, and how it has the power to strengthen and forge relationships just through its processes.
I’ve always felt that part of my human experience has been largely centered on the need to create and advance, as well as the need to understand my relationships with others. The human need to create ultimately is what brought my cast mates and I to sudden uncontrolled tears that Saturday night. I knew that I wanted to create a project to finish the year that personally connected to me, but also examined an aspect of the human condition that I’ve been extremely impacted by, so I explored the process of creation and of art through my experiences with RENT and HAIR.

Theater to me is ultimately the culmination and combination of small snapshots – the most enthralling or blatantly uninteresting pieces of life. [...] When striving to achieve an artistic goal, individuals must bring their imagination and understanding of themselves to the forefront. I have a hard time thinking of a more personal and vulnerable form of art than drama because of its demand for personal expression and physical awareness. I believe that my cast came together over the common goal of putting on a spectacular show, but although we worked hard and bonded in the rehearsal setting, it was also outside of the dance and vocal studio that we became a family (or in the case of HAIR, a tribe). [...] It would be in those moments of rehearsal when we’d run the scene so many times it hurt, or when we’d see the other cry for the first time in rehearsal that we’d automatically create strong bonds. Looking into the eyes of your scene partner transforms you and them, because you can see through the truth or the lie and into the actual person you are acting with. Some may say that acting is one of the more “fake” or “twisted” perceptions of one’s personality, but I find that I learn much more about someone based on their acting. Then, offstage, we all come together to practice on our own, or brainstorm hilarious or exciting ideas we have about the show, or just sit and enjoy each other’s company.

Ultimately, I’ve determined that the process of being in a cast of a show is the strongest and fastest way to tie into human emotions and relationships. Automatically, you are encouraged to trust one another, and you do. You are encouraged to take responsibility for your “end” of the relationship, and you do. Then, what there is left, is to collaborate and create a piece of art you’d be proud and eager to share.

In the end, both of our performance results were wonderful. We had large crowds, standing ovations, and acclaim from our peers and teachers. But it was the process that was meaningful for us. Just the need to create propelled us into these very real, healthy, and powerful relationships that I don’t believe anything but art could’ve given us.

That was pretty horribly written, but the main product wasn't the writing, it was the movie I made... so we're good. Haha. So yes, I made this project. The next morning, I went into my advisor meeting with Ms. Nordlund. I did break down when I talked about leaving and RENT and everything that'd happened in the last 48 hours. We talked about my future and college. I was making that huge decision to reject Stanford. At that moment, I was still scared of it. Who says "No" to Stanford?

Me.

That decision was so consuming, but I went with my gut. I went with my instinct, as I usually do. My friends make fun of me for my indecisiveness. "Caitlyn if you can't pick what you want to eat for dinner, what are you doing trying to make a decision about college?"

It was all in my gut, and now I know I've made the right choice. I committed and immediately drove to UCLA and bought all of the gear I could. I now have a total of seven UCLA sweatshirts. Today a man stopped me and asked me if I was going to UCLA and complimented me on my "high GPA" that he assumed. Selfishly, the prestige of Stanford was a big deterrent on committing to UCLA for me, but after that moment, I realized how proud I am of where I am. I worked my ASS off to get here. I killed myself juggling my Chadwick academics with my pursuit of a time-consuming and competitive career... but here I am. At one of the top schools and programs in the country. I'm so ready.

After I'd committed to college, the senior sleepover happened. Wow. That night was magic. From our dance party in Roesslor, to the hilarious senior improv show, to the massage train with my new but exceedingly closer friends in the english room, to giggling with my already-close best friends in our massive mansion tent until three in the morning, to stealing cookies, to laughing uncontrollably, to passing out and having no serious classes all day, to crepes and coffee and reading the last Mainsheet, to talking with Ms. Stern in the wee hours of the morning about her life and other gossip, to sitting in a pile on a mattress in the english room, to feeling so much love for my class. It was an incredible and irreplaceable memory. That bled into the last day of school, which was bittersweet, but lovely. I don't think I've felt this close to my friends at Chadwick before. Like I said, love and loss at the same time. There are so many people I want to get to know immediately, but feel it'd be pointless. The seniors in RENT were amazing... to share that experience together was... perfection.

High school coming to a close makes time seem to stop. I don't know what day it is anymore. My life isn't based on assignments and events and rehearsals and meetings. I'm leaving on Outdoor Education in five days. I'm spending three weeks backpacking. I'm living completely in the moment for once. I'm not going to worry about the future negative possibilities of my actions. I'm going to hike to get somewhere, wear sunscreen not to burn, drink water to stay healthy, use moleskin to avoid blisters, smile because I'm happy, and eat when I'm hungry. There is nothing else I can do. I can think and sing and write and dream. That's it. I couldn't be more excited for that moment when I can lay out and sleep without having to get up to go anywhere on my solo.

All of these landmarks are passing me by. The Senior sleepover, last performance, last day of school, last final, and last form where I said "Chadwick" was my school was filled out. Baccalaureate is looming, the trip is right around the corner, my solo will mark my complete acceptance of myself, and graduation sits on the horizon in between my childhood and my real life. You know? Like when they said "this isn't what it's like in real life." WELL HELLO?!

"Real life" has arrived.

Or at least the transition into it is beginning.