Who's That Girl?

Okay, so it has been requested that I divulge more of the details of my extra-special and exciting acting class. I have resisted the last few weeks as I have been struggling with a major concern. I went in the week after my Method triumph and there, in our little studio, was a video camera. And a TV. My heart sunk and remained in the region of my toes for the whole session. I felt completely out of it with the other members of the group and fell apart a bit every time I went in front of the camera. I also found out that I may have to change my name as I've never really liked it and it shows, apparently. I'm considering Wholahay.

My struggle with my appearance plays no little part in my fear and concern regarding being captured on film. But the thing that really bothers me is being confronted with someone who is not me. That woman on film is not me. I resent that it is me. I do not look like that and I do not sound like that. Seriously, who the hell is it? As anyone who has ever been backstage with me on a play, or indeed anywhere where there's a mirror, can testify, I am a little obsessed with my mirror image. I can quite happily make faces at myself for hours. I have a wide and varied number of faces that I pull, and I get really crazy if I have different hair and make-up, I enjoy seeing my face change and look different. But never, in my obsessive study of my own face, do I see the girl on film. I guess what freaks me out the most is the realisation that the mental image I have of myself is not what other people see.

For me, it is kind of hard that, if I want to do this as a job, I have to get used to this. Actually, if I want this as a hobby, I have to get used to this. Because there is no way I can get more control over what she looks like and the way that she moves if I don't study her and try to correct it. I can feel that I'm doing it right but how do I know that I'm communicating it if I don't look at what I'm doing wrong? And that's the worst thing, it's like having to eat fruit or stand on high things in order to be better at what I do. I am forced to confront something I really, really hate and part of me wants to cry or have a tantrum about it. But the perfectionist part knows I'm going to have to get over it and she is both a pedant and really, really bossy.

As a sidenote to this, I feel I have to make the note that you are lovely readers and friends to try to make me feel better about the way I look. But I do not say it because I need reassurance. I say it because it is part of the narrative.