Embrace Your Inner Murdock

I recently had an epiphany about what I do as an actress.  It’s intrinsically a part of my genetic makeup.  My entire life I’ve been trying to get people to see the other side of the story.  In the past I’ve referred to myself as a peacemaker…but really I’m just gifted at standing in someone else’s shoes and realizing what the other side of the story is.  (Of course I’m flawed and when it gets too personal I’m as narrow minded as the next person.)  But that is why I have to act. I want to be the storyteller – the medium between the freaks and geeks.  An ambassador to every kid who thought she wasn’t cool – to tell her that the coolest thing she can be is herself.  To show her that you can grow up to be awesome, achieve your dreams and make a difference.

 

That’s what Murdock taught me. 

Howling Mad Murdock is the certifiably insane pilot from The A-Team.  He was my favorite everything growing up.  As a kid I dressed like him, tried to act like him, and basically wanted to be him when I grew up.  Looking back, I think I was captivated by how funny he was.  He was almost like a live action cartoon with his impersonations and crazy shenanigans.  However, as an adult I realize that he instilled something much deeper in me.  See, Murdock marches to the beat of his own drum and is never afraid to express himself.  To be honest, I’ve lived by that principle my entire life.  Not perfectly, of course, but the times in my life when I’ve felt the happiest and the most alive are when I’m just being myself, no apologies.  Truthful.  I want to share that with people and speak truth into the characters I play.  God willing, I could be someone else’s “Murdock.” That is my dream.

I often talk to myself.  Many times I get in my car and forget to put on music because I’m so busy telling myself something.  I shall call it…verbal journaling.  Sometimes I’m not talking to myself, though.  I speak to specific people that I’d like to meet, or imagine that I have students that I’m teaching, or that I’m giving an interview.  During a recent imaginary conversation I was expressing some of my feelings about my acting career and I referred to my board of directors.

Wait.
What?
I don’t have a board of directors.

Suddenly, clear as day, I realized that my board of directors was very dear to me and very real.  My board includes all four members of The A-Team, with Murdock being the Chairman, Algernon & Jack, several of The Doctors, Lucy Van Pelt, Miss Piggy, The Warner Brothers (and the Warner sister,) Gandalf, Dumbledore, Aslan and a slew of other well-loved characters.  They are all pieces of me and I turn to them when I’m searching for direction.  Not like idols or anything.  Just reminders of who I am.  It’s funny, because I remember people being concerned that I was so wrapped up in fictional characters, but I needed them while I was growing up.  And every now and again, as Sarah says in Labyrinth, I need them.  As I grow and change, there are more characters added, but seldom does a character resign from the Board.  They’ll always be a part of me.  That’s how powerful storytelling is.

And that is why I must be a storyteller.

A typical Board Meeting.

When Pigs Fly

I have a thing for flying pigs.

You heard me: Pigs with wings, soaring through the air, squealing in delight.

I think it’s because when you hear the phrase, “When Pigs Fly” the implication is:

 “that’s never gonna happen.”

Sounds like a dare to me.
And the people in my family love a good dare.

Once upon a time, when my Father and Aunt were kids…back when the world was sepia colored and the idea of a smart phone was only found in comic books…the two of them were having an argument. Now, I don’t know what the argument was about, but it made my Dad so angry that he threatened to push my Aunt into a nearby rosebush. She looked him square in the eye and said, “You wouldn’t DARE!” Shortly thereafter my Dad found himself getting a good spanking while my Aunt was ridding herself of thorns.

I guess tenacity is hereditary. While I’ve never thrown anyone into a rose bush, I have found myself proving others wrong, not to spite them, but because I know they are confined by some imaginary box that has no hold on me.

When I was 10 years old, all I wanted in the world was a horse. It was all I could talk about. I begged my parents to buy me a horse, but they refused. However, I kept hoping and dreaming. During this time period, I met a girl who disapproved of my desire for a horse. (Seriously, what was her problem?) I will never forget what she said to me when I told her that I wanted a horse: “Yeah, right! Like that’s ever going to happen.” It was a like a dagger in my heart. Yet, it was also like a flame lit under me and from that moment on I didn’t just dream about getting a horse; I worked for it. I did as much research as a girl without the internet could muster. I took horseback lessons. I read books. I sent away for information on getting a free horse. A few years later, I had not one, but two horses that I had received for free. Actually, in retrospect, the first horse that was offered to me, I decided not to take. So, there, Debbie Downer! I see your “Never Getting a Horse” and raise you THREE FREE ONES!

How differently that situation could have turned out if I had agreed with Naysayer Girl. What if I had said, “Yeah, you’re probably right” and devoted the rest of my middle school years to pouring over issues of Teen Beat and listening to boy bands? I shudder at the thought.

Twice today I found myself saying that old adage: “Necessity is the mother of invention.” But truly, it’s more than necessity that gives birth to new creation.
It’s desire.
And passion.
And faith.

Faith is the substance of things hoped for, and the evidence of things unseen. (Heb 11:1)

Faith is creation.

Creation is making and doing and achieving.

It's seeing the possible inside impossible.

It's believing.
And it’s there.

That little piggy.

Waiting for you to fashion it some wings and set it free.

The next time you hear the phrase, “When Pigs Fly,” (or any relative of that phrase,) I hope you consider it a dare. And I hope it inspires you to push a little harder, think outside the box and make your dreams come true.

I dare you.

Check out Goosezilla on DeviantArt.

If You Build It...

            The baseball season is quickly coming to a close. The Red Sox and The Cardinals are going to the World Series. It’s exciting. While I've never considered myself to be a sports fan, I feel like I have always loved baseball. I don’t have fantasy teams, and I don’t keep track of scores or standings, really, but there is just something about that game.
            I was thinking about why I love baseball, as opposed to other sports, and I think it’s because baseball is very romantic; people cry and go crazy over this game! Why? I think it’s because it’s steeped in heritage and tradition. You go to the park wearing your jersey and hat. You bring your glove with the hopes of catching a ball. You get peanuts or a hot dog. And you scream, and jump up and down and sing as a part of a whole community that is there to experience the same thing.
            As a child I always loved the movie FIELD OF DREAMS. Looking at it now, it’s a bit strange—it’s not a kids’ movie. But that movie captured the romantic, almost magical quality of baseball bringing families together and believing in impossible dreams. The most haunting and memorable thing about the film is the repetition of the phrase “If you build it he will come.” Build what? Who will come? What do you think would happen if we committed fully to our dreams, even when it doesn't make sense?

            See, I believe that when we go to a ball game with our parents, friends or our kids, we are building something. It may seem like frivolous entertainment on the surface, but we are sharing something unique—an experience, a memory. And that builds relationships and foundations to something much more important than a ball game. But the game is the bridge that takes you there. The game is what helps complete opposites to meet in the middle. And if that’s not magic, I don’t know what is.