Friday 23 August 2019

Feel the fear, get the F over yourself, and do it anyway

I wish I could say after I had written, partly produced / promoted and performed in my own one-person play, that I felt a HUGE wave of achievement and utter happiness wash over me. A sense of elation, ecstasy and egotistical pride all rolled into one... But, alas, I did not.

I felt relief. I felt that this big event that had caused me so much sleep-loss, stomach-knottedness and anxiety, was over* (*FOR NOW - because everybody tends to genuinely and kindly ask you "So, where is it going next?!")

Yes. Those (quite frankly) terrifying first two preview shows are surely the start of a long, self-gratifying journey. But how can you take the next steps of this journey when the thought of doing what you just did sets your heart pounding harder than a gym bunny on pre-workout and cocaine?

Let me give some background to this story... I wrote a play about my granny. An important story to tell. What she went through was horrific and it needed / needs to be told. Read an article about her traumatic experience with symphysiotomy here. So in effect, this play was bigger than me. I needed to trundle through, regardless of self-doubt, to produce an end result that would be worthy of the battle she has fought and to get word out. I think this (and an awesome director who believed in both me and the piece - shout out to JESSICA ARDEN, Follow her worthy self on Twitter HERE. ) pushed me to continue.

I felt the fear and did it anyway.

Maybe a longer run is what I need to get out of my head. I feel if I had more shows to just GET OVER MYSELF then I'd be able to crack on and think more about the piece rather than analyse myself as a performer.

After the two previews of my show (it's called A LIFE SENTENCE fyi. *Cheeky, tentative, out-of-character plug BLEUGH* ), I physically had to take about 1-2 weeks not to think about it. Of COURSE I was happy it had gone well... More relieved than happy but still... I just couldn't bring myself to jump on the tail-end of its (relative) success, right away anyways.

Not long after my show previewed, I listened to an interview with Dame Judi Dench where she HIT THE NAIL ON THE HEAD, in regards to fear. She says:

"I'm always fearful. … Fear generates in you a huge energy. You can use it. When I feel that mounting fear, I think, 'Oh, yes, there it is!' It's like petrol."

Thank F**K for her and her wise words. I thought, "Brilliant! If Dame Judi LEGEND Dench is fearful... then there's hope for us all." Maybe fear is a form of pure perfectionism.

After a while of just getting the F over myself, I began to branch out and email people. What always amazes me is the level of support and enthusiasm creatives often have for new work, and the kind words you receive. I've always been a bit of "do-er", I have a day-to-day diary (one I imagine Monica Geller might possess) which contains lists as long as my arm. I cope well with a check-list and this includes people to email. I like sitting in a cafĂ© taking my time to compose well-formatted emails. (I like getting replies even more.)

And yet... whilst I am applying myself (more for the play's sake than mine) and being proactive; I am side-stepping what the (hopeful) result of these emails and meetings would mean... Performing this play again. I do want to... but that "fear" lingers.

So my question(s) would be... How do solo-performers do it? Especially self-written pieces. How do you get up and continue to perform your work, regardless of the mental internal goings-on in your mind? How do you get rid of those niggles? How do you learn to be self-assured, rather than cocky, in yourself? Without relying on other people's opinions or praise, how do YOU yourself believe in yourself enough to promote your piece, when doing so means you are effectively promoting yourself (EW)?

I was recently up at Ed Fringe, and I saw two incredible self-written and performed pieces (APPROPRIATE by Sarah-Jane Scott get tickets here! and BRENDAN GALILEO FOR EUROPE by Fionn Foley - tickets here ) To see two such confident and seamless solo show performances was truly inspiring.

I guess, in conclusion, maybe the answer is you never don't feel "the fear". Maybe, as Dame Judi Dench says, you are "always fearful"; and that never goes away. But you channel it. You channel that fear. So long as the audience can't hear your heart beating like the bloody HAMMERS, then it's all good, right?