The Pursuit of Zenith
There is something they don't show in the movies. Those endless hours of silent auditions. The empty emails, the callbacks that lead to screen tests that lead to silence. The script everyone wanted so desperately to read, now struggles to attract the old man at the cafe desperate for some material to go along with his cappuccino. People from all walks of life have this phase. This period where you build and grow, show up everyday with no clear sign your train hasn't derailed- and is barreling into oncoming traffic- I call it the messy middle.
The jungle of your ambition. This is where most get off the line, cut their way back to home, to safety.
Their road stops, and their path begins- albeit a path that doesn't lead in the same direction. See there are many people who flock towards the flashy lights of the grand cities, like moths in need of warmth, thinking this light will give it to them- that it was made for them, and them alone.
However, by year's break, their hearts been broke, their confidence has waned, and the lights of back home seem to be brighter than these damn bulbs of the city (but they were so flashy!).
See these people are what I call temps. They came, they saw, and they left. They were attracted to the brightness of it all, but didn't care to change the bulbs, to dust the hinges, and check the plugs. Their patience was nothing, and their minds were focused on the end result compared to the middle part we call living.
Like a bottleneck, a mountain top, or a front row seat - only few can get through. Like a natural feeder, a great divide where the top performers reap the world, whilst the rest must return to the brink in which they came- only they do so with bitterness. As if the world had cheated them, unable to view their lack of true dedication, the hours of wasted energy, and the patience that never existed as the root cause of their agony.
See to become the best, you must be the best. To be the best, you must become the best. A double edged sword, the chicken and the egg- only in this case there is an answer.
To be the best an artist can be, is to give it every breath in their body. Paint each stroke with your soul, and dedicate the effort of patience like a tree does in winter, waiting for its leaves to grow.
If each day you take a step closer towards your dream, you may not know how far left you have to go- but you know for sure you're closer than yesterday.
As an artist, pursuing the craft of Acting and Screenwriting - I see too well that in my field it's those with patience and discipline that rise to the top. It's got nothing to do with your age, your height, your identity- merely your willingness to face rejection and still carry through.
For the temps that complain, you excite me when you quit- for I know it's one less person atop the mountain I climb.
I shall arrive.
For the pursuit of zenith, the trials of hardships, the endless nights, the countless rejections, build me into the man I was born to be.
The artist is within you. Will you have the patience for it to bloom?
