Role Models

When the 27 Asian men that deserves more screen time article came out, my friend and I automatically tried to come up with a list for Asian women--specifically Asian American women.  We had about 5 or 6, but we started throwing in some Asian actresses (those from Asia) to make the list look fuller.  Mind you, we only got up to about 12 at most.  Is it because we lack knowledge of who is in the field, or is it because Asian/Asian American women haven't been getting enough roles for the average television/movie watcher to remember their names?  I don't know.  Ever since the birth of the Internet, I don't really watch television anymore.  And I'm being honest. But from advertisements and browsing through the web, I don't see a lot of people who look like me on screen.  People always ask me who I look up to as an actor, and I try to think of somone--but I draw a blank.  Do I even have any real role models? To be honest, I find inspiration from different people--people from the "industry" or not.  Actor wise, I look up to Steven Yeun, Sung Kang, Michelle Krusiec, Sandra Oh.  Artist wise, I look up to Deth P. Sun, Jeff Staple, and folks at Giant Robot. I love creativity and art that speaks with a purpose.  If I was to pinpoint on how I discovered these artists, it was possibly because of actually watching them in a film/show or by reading a feature in an Asian American oriented magazine, meaning they've already been public and sought after.  I wonder if there are any undiscovered APA talents out there.  If so, I can't wait to discover and learn from more.

To end this on a high-note, seeing Ming-Na Wen on Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. is pretty freakin' inspiring.  I think I need to add her to my list of role models.  Oh, and this summer, someone told me I look like a mini Ming-Na.  If that's true, I want to play her daughter on that show. Ha!  Wishful thinking :D

I do belong.

I promised myself in the beginning of this year that I will put myself out there more often for auditions, and today, i did. I went to an audition for a play called "In the Wine Time," set in the 1950's with an all Black cast. When i first saw the audition posting on Backstage, i was thrilled because i know i can play the character that is being called for. I showed up at the audition location and immediately was dismissed by the check-in lady. I saw a lot of Equity actors being welcomed and were asked to sign-in / get a time card, so i asked her if non-equity members can audition and what the check-in process is. She said equity members are seen first and if there is time i can be seen.  She followed-up and asked me to check the breakdown to make sure i fit the roles. The first line of the breakdown is: all roles are for African Americans unless otherwise stated. I see that most of the roles were for Black actors, but on the bottom of the breakdown, it also said all racial and ethnic backgrounds are encouraged to audition. I remember that was the line in the Backstage posting that led me there. I sat in the waiting area and thought about the way she treated me differently. Tears swelled up. I felt a sense of not-belonging there and thought maybe i should go. But i told myself: stay, Judy, stay. I stayed.

I looked through the sides and quickly realized there is no stage directions for the beginning of the monologue. I remember vividly in class when there are no stage directions, we are encouraged to read the lines and figure out something for the character to do. In this monologue, Doris constantly asks her family if they wanna eat a hot dog. She is semi-drunk and talking in a high pitched voice, so automatically i knew there was at least some distance between her and her sister/friend. I gave myself the task of cooking, and i think it made all the difference. The director / writer said they thought i was funny. I didn't know if it was a good funny (impressed) or a bad funny (weirded out); but i felt i did well.

I think today's audition was a well lesson learned. I know no matter where i go--unless if the role calls for an Asian person--if i show up at an audition for something that is not of my race, i will always be seen as the other / i do not belong there. In this industry, i know this will not be the only time i'll feel this way. It's about time i let that go and not give a damn what other people think of me. I do belong.

I do belong. And i'm not gonna leave anytime soon.

You should just quit now.

Two days ago, while my brother and I were riding the train together, he said something that took me by surprise  (probably what he has been feeling since I told him I wanted to become an actor).  I don't remember the exact words, but he said something along the lines of:  "how many Asian American females do you see on tv or film--not portraying a stereotype?  Your chances of being on a show is close to none. Who can you compare yourself to?  I know this is probably harsh, but I'm just being realistic.  It's good to dream, but it's another thing to do.  You really have to reconsider this whole acting thing because to be honest, I think you should just quit now."  You should just quit now.  Those words resonated with me for a hot second.  I find myself thinking about what he just said, and I found tears streaming down my eyes as I began to defend my decision to become or to remain an actor.  At that very moment, I felt a whirlwind of emotions, and one thing that crept up to me was: what if what he's saying is right?  What if I should just quit now? I replayed his words over and over in my mind over the past two days.  I think about it when I'm alone; I think about it when I'm with my brother and mother.  I have a sudden urge of guilt: of not being able to prove myself, of not being able to provide for my family right now.  And for a slight second, I thought about quitting.  I thought about quitting because I don't see any results yet, and I can be so impatient.  I constantly feed myself self-doubt, up to the point that I convinced myself quitting now is OK.

I got tired thinking about it, so I slept with the thought.  And to be honest, I woke up with an urge this morning to find something stable--like a stable 9-to-5 job.  Then, as I was brushing my teeth, I thought about something I shared with a friend who has a dream of owning his own design label one day:  "Never give up what you want most for what you want now."

I should seriously apply that to myself.  Fuck what my bro said--I should NEVER GIVE UP!

The words.

Today marks the last day of script analysis class.  Seriously?  I wish we can go on and on with the class because as the weeks progressed, most of us grew sharper in deciphering texts within minutes.  I certainly went from sucking at script analysis to getting better.  I say getting better because I know I still suck, and it's still a work in progress.  But at least I'm not far off or spacing out when breaking down a script (I swear, sometimes, I have ADD and cannot focus on reading a script).  Now that I have the tools, every step I take in acting out the scene will become clearer for me.  When it becomes clearer to me, it will definitely be clearer to the audience.  Woo!  I feel super accomplished.  This back-to-the-basics method/mentality really taught me to appreciate the words a lot more than just pulling shit out of my ass.  Seriously.  I feel more confident as an actor.  I cannot wait to return to TBG this fall/winter with my newfound set of skills. P.S. Industry showcase is this winter. Gotta start prepping.  #peeinmypants

Last leg: Songbird

I can't believe how time flies -- and I haven't posted in about 1.5 months already.  Life has been so busy with the film festival lately, so I haven't been working on my own stuff as much.  We're now in war mode, so that explains why I haven't been posting (but that's no excuse, right?). During the last section of the first-year at The Barrow Group, we were assigned to do classics.  I chose a snip-bit between Mrs. Linde & Nora from A Doll's House by Henrik Ibsen.  We had about a month+ to work on it, so it was pretty intense.  I remember I had to buy a long dress because that's what womyn wore back in the days.  I also put on red lipstick to get into the traditional wife mindset (lipstick makes me look a bit older). When it comes to memorizing the lines, which is always a struggle, it took me about 2 weeks.  I memorized it whenever I can--at work, on the subway, at home, with my scene partner.  I know it takes me a while to memorize lines, but after I memorized the lines, I found it so much easier to play with what's around me.  We were always taught to memorize and throw away the lines because it will come back to us.  I always have that instinct to hang on to exact words.  Surprisingly, sometimes when I throw away the lines, it somehow comes back to me.  Other than the lines, I focused a lot on really getting down the whole story of the play.  I read it 4 times to see how the scene really fit into the story.  At first, I only focused on the scene itself--with specific instructions on how to play the "greatest story ever told" direction, but when we played with it in class again, our teacher Seth asked about the sequence of events + how the scene had to do with the rest of the story.  I just sat there, blank-faced because a) I blanked out and b) I really need to do some homework and read before I make random choices without knowing why.  After reading the whole play, I realized how critical this scene is to Nora and her relationship with her husband:  she finally reveals/confesses to someone that she did something terribly wrong in order to save her husband's life.  That's pretty big!

In terms of really playing it, I had a hard time trying to find a balance between between so excited vs. just serious.  Knowing Nora, on the surface at least, she seems like a pretty mindless person.  If we were to only read the scene, then it seems like something so serious; but if you relate it to Nora and her life, then she can say it so casually but it will still mean a great deal because of the words coming out of her mouth.  The WORDS!  That's what's important.  That's the most important takeaway from the last bit of the first-year.

My Girlfriend's Boyfriend: Mike Birbiglia at Carnegie Hall

Last night, I had the pleasure of watching Mike Birbiglia's solo show "My Girlfriend's Boyfriend" at the Carnegie Hall.  I was so excited.. I didn't know what to expect.  I first knew of Mike at The Barrow Group Theatre (TBG) some time in October 2012.  His picture, the classic picture of him in pajamas and holding onto a teddy bear, is hung in the lobby.  I asked my classmate, "who is that dude?" And then I found out his name is Mike Birbiglia, and he did an indie film called SLEEPWALK WITH ME.  I then proceeded to wiki him and found out he was also a comedian.  Whao!--I thought.  I told myself I would definitely check out his film while it plays at IFC, but you know when you say I'll definitely check it out, and you never do?  Yeah, I'm soooo guilty of that. Fast forward seven months later, he returns to TBG for a seminar with Seth Barrish; and I told myself, I'll definitely check it out.  But guess what?  I can't, because I will be in LA during that time.  Two weeks later, I found out he will perform at Carnegie Hall, and I jumped up and said, I'll definitely check it out--and I did!

Okay--now back to the show:  the show was freakishly amazing.  This is my first time at Carnegie Hall, and my first time watching a solo show (without falling asleep!!!).  I have a tendency of falling asleep during theatre performances, and this show kept me awake, all 1 hour and 37 minutes of it.  First, we had Ira Glass preface the show with a story about a dance company finding luck in the mega million lottery game + two ballet dancers glancing across the stage with a solid number.  It was so priceless with Mr. Glass himself starts dancing after he reveals that the dance company did not win the lottery.  They gracefully introduced Mike.  Mike came out with an untucked button-down shirt, faded jeans, and a pair of white sneaks.  Immediately, we all knew the show was gonna be super chill.  And then he said something along the lines of, "I can't believe this is happening here," and i thought me too, me too!  Carnegie Hall is traditionally know as a venue for orchestra performances or something super formal, so I was pretty shocked it was held there.  But our attention was immediately drawn then to his parents who came to support the show.  I had tears in my eyes at that point.  But then he told the story of how his mother sold him her car for $2,000 when he first started out because she didn't see anything of it.  At that point, I just nodded in agreement.  He also told us a story about how we should turn off our cell phones because a lady at another show had her cell phone go off and didn't know how to turn it off--gahhh distraction, that's a performer's worst nightmare (but then if you're awesome, you'll know how to play it off).  Then, the show finally began.  He told the story about not believing in marriage, his t-bone car accident, his teenage dating experiences, not being a part of the make-out club but finally getting into it after lying to his friends but finds out he's a really bad kisser from Sandy-the-brace-face, and then finding love with Jenny, disbelieving in marriage .. still, but then still getting married, and still paying $12,000 for that t-bone car accident in which he was hit by a Benz.  What a show!!!  I sat on the edge of my seat the whole time.  I let out a few LOLs, but at times, I laughed awkwardly because some things were just too true to be true.  I can honestly say I had a grand old time.

It was such an amazing experience to watch a performer work the whole stage.  No props, no nothing.  Just themselves, the story, the lights, and a stool.  I am definitely blown away by the story and his delivery.  If only I can someday do the same. Still dreaming...

Monologue 10: Go Buck on a Motherf*cker!

Seriously, this is my favorite play.  It is horrible because I curse left and right, but I think the inner "hood" girl in me comes out.  I've never "acted" like this in front of other people -- wait, when I get angry at work, this side of me comes out -- but it is definitely something I can bring out if I want to.  Many people think I'm a nice sweet girl when they meet me.  When I was at Trader Joes, the cashier asked me what I was reading, and I said The Motherfucker with the Hat.  He laughed.  He said, "But you're so sweet looking.."  Anyway, he doesn't know anything about me. At first, I tried recording this video in the subway station because it looked gritty -- perfect for this monologue.  But then I realized it might be better indoors.  It is quieter and I can focus more.  I did several takes.  The first take just to warm-up to the lines (I record my videos from first-take on because sometimes I am more relaxed during the first go), and as I get more and more familiar with the lines... the circumstances kick in and I get so angry and I do it so much faster.  I always wonder if I need to slow down towards the end.  I end up having two cuts.  First cut is just getting the lines down, and then surprisingly, second take was good.  Towards the 5th and last take, my words became so much more fluid.   I get more relaxed and I also allow myself to just speak like an normal person.  When you're so caught up in playing a character -- a make-believer, that you forget to act like a normal human being.  So a future assignment I'll throw myself is just to stop thinking what an actor does or how a normal human being acts, and just act.

I hope I don't have to think  and just do it.  But it takes lot of practice.  Practicing now...

Monologue 9: Poor as Job's Turkey!

First time playing with the Southern accent?  Yes!  It just came to me.  I guess I have been watching too much THE WALKING DEAD lately.  Rick, the main character, has a Southern accent.  I kept thinking about him when I was doing my takes.  I believe this is the 5th take.  I only had about 10 minutes to record this before work, and I was so nervous.  The first few tries was just to get down the accent and the lines.  I realized how easy it gets once you down the lines.  You just get a move quicker and actually focusing on acting.  I think I did that with this monologue.  I will do this from now on and see what happens.

Monologue 8: Searching for My Mother

Whao, I totally forgot to post a blog entry for this monologue when I was done one and a half week ago.  This monologue is super special to me because I used it for college acting auditions.  When I was 17 and working with this monologue, I felt I had to be big in my breath and movement.  I had to "act" older and pretend to be a valley girl.  I definitely see some diva in her that i really liked. After working on my craft for a few months, I just look back at how silly I was to do it the way I did in 2006.  I definitely over exaggerated every line.  As I grow as a performer, I realized less is more -- this is a philosophy taught at The Barrow Group.

Good ol' Monday Blues

I haven't written here in a while. Life has been the usual. Was sick for the past two weeks and i'm still trying to recover. Work picked up a bit as i try to pick out interns for the summer. We received some amazing applicants this year, and I'm excited for this team to come together in June. Acting--was so sick up to the point that i missed class for a week. We had two weeks off for spring break, so i was literally away from the craft for 3 weeks. That is a long time, and it felt like forever. I feel like if i dont go or take classes on a weekly basis, i might just stop. That's a scary feeling, so i better practice on my own before i lose the ability to pick up the text and work on it. I gotta stay motivated, especially during the summer, when classes are not in session. Gotta be more diligent!

Anyway, i went for two auditions this month. One was for a music video and another for a hosting gig at a comic con. The music video one was sooo embarrassing because i had no idea what i was doing, and i was "dancing" in front of someone i knew. It was so awkward. I told my boss about the experience and he said if i wanna stay an actor i should expect to be embarrassed for the rest of my life. What a scary feeling!! I never will go on any music video audition after this because i can't risk my integrity for the craft with senseless dancing. The hosting gig audition was so much fun! It was for Mike Carbo's show and although i lacked comics knowledge, i showed up for the audition anyway. They asked for a great personality and i believe i have that within me. I was the first person to audition and had a great rapport with everyone on staff. I used my new headshots and felt so happy and proud. I didn't book it and felt a little bummed, but i told myself it is a learning experience. I will do better next time! :-)

Improv has been hard. 201 at UCB is seriously kicking my ass. The class is all about finding and developing the game and i suck. Sometimes i blank out in class and i get so hard on myself after. At some point i dread going to class because im afraid of sucking. Today marks the 4th class and i told myself to fuck it and just go and do my best. I felt fine today. A bit better than usual. Maybe because im not in ny head too much. I should stay out of my head and just be present and keep working on the craft. It is supposed to be hard. Good things dont come easy.

Over the course of this month, I felt like quitting everything for several times. I keep looking back at how financially secure i was last year, and how i want the same this year, but it is not happening. Other than that, i also feel lost. I'm working on my craft, but i also want to audition and be seen. But part of me ask if i am ready to be seen by casting directors. I need to stick to the craft and refine it before i see them. I need to stop jumping the gun and stay focused. I gotta be real and keep working on the craft. Afterall, the craft is what will get me jobs. I gotta keep working at it. I'll probably be ready before i know it.

Keep truckin and dont give up, judy!

Monologue 7: Baba - Father

I wrote this monologue out of a whim about three weeks ago.  I remember sitting at the bakery last spring, watching him and the two kids come in the bakery, getting things for them, caring for them, and I just sat in silence.  Patrons would ask if they're my siblings, and I would just ignore them.  I guess they think I'm rude; but I don't give a fuck.  I just try to eat as fast as I can to leave the bakery, so there'd be no more questions asked. I still remember the anger and frustration I felt during the whole meal.  As if watching him with them wasn't enough, the peanut gallery had to add wood to the fire.  Sometimes I find myself tearing up, and most of the time, I'll tell myself to stop.  Why cry over a man who don't love you no more?  I deal with it.  Or I try my best to ignore it.

He will never understand the pain he caused us.  Believe me, it still hurts.  I'm just trying my best to ignore it.  Or I'm just trying to tell myself everything is okay, when maybe it's not.  Seriously.  I need to not give a fuck because it's over and done with.  I need to be a stronger person.  I need to learn how to let go.  It's all a part of growing up.

Letting go...

Monologue 6: Fat Pig

It's crazy how much I think about weight and body image these days.  I think it's because of the external pressure of how an actor should look like that makes me very conscious of what I eat and how it will make me look.  I can't deny the fact that diet, a conscious choice of healthy eating, has been a big part of my life for the past month or so.  It's so hard to keep up with it sometimes, but I'm slowly learning self-discipline and cutting back on eating processed and junk foods--which brings me to FAT PIG by Neil Labute. I first heard of this play through a male classmate who did a monologue out of it.  Within the monologue, he talked about how shameful he felt about his mother's weight issue, and I immediately got sucked into the story.   I decided to buy the book, read it, and picked out this part of the play to play with.  As an obese child, I knew I can find something in this play I can relate to.

It was hardest monologue for me.  For various reasons, I found myself in the "actor" mode.  Like ... how will this girl feel when she is confessing to the boy she likes a lot that she will do anything to herself to change for him?  That was a truckload to digest.  I tried too hard to think about the words, and at some point in class, I totally forgot my lines and didn't even know how to deliver it.  I tried recording the monologue at home right after I left class, but I had so much trouble.  What was Helen feeling at the moment?  I kept thinking about how Helen might've thought.  I knew I was trapping myself into creating a certain emotional character for her, so I decided to take a week's break from the material.  I woke up on Wednesday morning (4/3) and decided it was time to record this video... and this is the 3rd take.  I did 4 takes, but decided this one was more natural and conversational compared to the other takes.  What do you think?

As much as I care about body image, I don't think I'll change myself for anyone in this world.  I think Helen has a lot to work on, if she wants to be with Tom.  But the story never got up to that point... oh wait, why am I spoiling the play.  Go borrow or buy the play to find out what happens between Tom, the good-looking boy, and Helen, the so-called "fat pig."  It's a really interesting read and what our society thinks is beautiful these days.  Definitely spoke out to me, and I hope it will for you too.

Improv, Race, and me

Yesterday, while taking the stage at UCBeast for our final 101 class performance, I felt confident. We have been training for eight weeks to get up to this point, and we have grown so much together--we have grown to become a family. Our class was split into two groups, and I was a part of the second group. As we stepped on to the stage, I felt a surge of relief. We're gonna kill this, I thought. Halfway into the performance, there was a skit focused on a family, and I was suddenly dragged onto the scene as a girl that was being recommended as a dating partner for their son. The son's immediate reaction was "well, i could use some ethnic flavor." At that point, i stood there, cold. It was so awkward. I didn't even know what to say. I know it was a heat of the moment thing because as improvisers, we're supposed to say whatever comes to our mind first; and that--race--of course, was brought up, unconsciously. I can't begin to explain how much I dread the race card. Granted i know it's the first thing people see when they see me, but did they really have to use that?  I still remember the first day of class when a girl said, "you speak ching-a-ling-ling," and i was furious. It made me question whether all they see is my race. After the first class, my race was never brought up again... until yesterday, during the performance, where there was a live audience. I felt embarrassed, but the show went on, and we patted each other in the back, and it was over.

I know in comedy, there has bound to be a time or moment when what's funny is a person's race. It can sometimes come off subtlely or suddenly without the other person (initiating the race card) knowing that they just pulled out the race card to get a laugh. And as the person receiving the punch on the other end, i just know it hurts, a lot, even if what was said isn't supposed to hurt or had any type of ill-intention.

As i move forward in improv (yes, i plan on honing the craft), i wonder how many more times i have to endure these types of awkward situation. I wonder when will race no longer be the butt of the joke, but rather, something meaningful. I guess the search for that answer continues. Onward.

MONOLOGUE 5: Just Go

While shopping at The Drama Bookshop, I found a play called THE MOTHERFUCKER WITH THE HAT by Stephen Adly Guirgis that spoke deeply to me.  The whole play is set up in NYC, and it talks about a drug addict, her husband who was recently released from prison, and their complicated relationship with two friends. In this monologue, I play Veronica, the drug addict, who tries to break it off with her husband's best friend.  I struggled so much to play her character because of the circumstances in this scene--I had to figure out how to play a Puerto Rican woman from NYC, and how to be high in this scene.  I held on to these two things as I did a few takes, but found myself a bit stiff/fake.  Towards the end, I was running out of time (the flip video cam only holds about an hour of footage), so I just said fuck it, and did it without thinking too much... and that's the take you're watching now.

**I tried bleeping out the word fuck, but obviously, you can still somewhat hear it.  I hope youtube doesn't take it down! ***In this scene, I was talking to myself in a bed and then by a door, but I actually spoke to Pikachu, and it was quite hard holding in the laughter.  He's too cute for me to tell him any of this, but I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Happiness.

The Pursuit of Happiness

  Hello, and welcome to my blog.  About a year ago, I was a recent Smith College graduate struggling to figure out what I am most passionate about in life.  I took on whatever opportunities came my way--odd jobs, worked for a Congresswoman, and finally decided to pursue my passion of living a creative life as an artist.  Now, I'm doing what I'm set-out to do, studying acting at The Barrow Group Theatre & improv at Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre.  Everyday is new and uncertain, and while I have a love-hate relationship with this lifestyle, I'm slowly growing accustomed to it.  This blog is to document that long-and-bumpy ride.  Thanks for reading & following!

MONOLOGUE 4: Gotta have Faith

Every time I do this monologue, I feel like I'm in high school again.  As a teenager, I worked with kids and as a receptionist at an orthodontist's office.  I never worked at McDonalds, but can definitely relate to Faith, the character in this monologue, who has to go through hell because of entitled customers.  I have dealt with difficult characters in many different situations, and can definitely relate to her frustration. I did several takes.  At first, I recorded this monologue while sitting down.  But then I realized it is so much better doing this monologue standing up--because a real McDonalds worker will be standing up; so I asked my brother to help me record it.  He gave me a limit of 10 minutes, and this is the last and best take.  What do you think?

(I swear I have this much swag in real life ;D)

Letter to my mother

About two nights ago (Thursday night), I fell asleep on the couch while typing up an email.  My mom nudged and asked if I was interested in going to a family gathering on Saturday, March 23, and in my sleepy state, I said "sure."  I went back to my nap.  Then she asked what I'm doing on Saturday, March 30, and I told her I have to perform in a show.  SHIT!  I immediately woke up.  She asked me, "What show?"  "A comedy show," I answered.  *Awkward silence.  "Are you a side character?" she asked.  "Not really," I answered.  *Awkward silence.  The conversation ended.  She went to bed. The next morning, I woke up morning with an urge to give her the low-down.  Yes, last night was a complete fuck-up freudian slip, but I think it's god's way of telling me that it's time to let it all out.  Just tell her, goddamnit!  So I went around the room looking for paper to write on.  All I found were bank slips (my mom takes bank slips and leave us notes every morning), and I didn't wanna write on 'em because it wasn't formal.  I want this to be a very formal/serious thing.  So I found a pack of cards with puppies on 'em.  My mom hates cats/dogs, but I don't have anything else, so I used it.

I haven't written Chinese in a long time too; it felt weird writing it again.  I fucked up so bad in my first sentence.  I wrote two characters wrong, and I used an expired White-Out tape that made it all messy.  I had to make it look neat, and serious.  So I started over and made sure I google-translated all the characters I'm looking for.  In the end, I poured my heart out on paper--for the first time.  It felt weird.  It felt weird telling my mother on paper what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.  Why didn't I just tell her, I thought.  But that will only end up in arguments.  So yeah, writing a letter definitely made it easier.  I quickly dropped off the letter while she was working and sped off.  I can't let her read it in front of me. I don't want to see her reaction.

For those who cannot read Chinese, here's what it says:

Mom, 

It's been six months since I've been in school--can't believe how time flies.  Are you wondering what I'm studying?  Actually, I really want to tell you what I'm studying, but I don't know if you will understand me ... or you might even disagree with my decision.  I'm scared.  I'm scared you will stop me from doing this.  But I really want you to know because I respect you.  You and Ken are my main motivations in life, and I want you to bless me on this journey.

Acting and writing is my dream.  I hope you will allow me to be persistent about this career choice.  Maybe you will disagree with my decision, but I'm very serious about this.  I won't give up!  I hope you will support me.

-Judy

She finally called me while I was in class and left a message.  She told me there were many typos... and that I was short; there's a lot of pretty people; and how the entertainment industry is very complicated; this career choice is very impractical, and that I should concentrate on a professional field that can make a steady paycheck.  She could have went ape-shit, but she just got real and straight-up told me how she felt.  She thought I was gonna pursue politics or the path of becoming a lawyer (this was all my practical ambitions before I decided that politics might not be my thing).  She told me her hopes and dreams were gone.  I felt so awkward hearing that.    I don't know how to tell her what it was like working in politics, and what it is like pursuing something I enjoy doing now.  I understand her concerns; I really do, because these are the things I think about every single day.

The stubborn part of me want to go on this unsafe ride, this unsafe journey.  It'd be bumpy, painful, and scary ride for sure, but I'm willing to ride it out.  I don't want to live life with any regrets, so I'm doing what I'm set out to do, and commit to it. I want to prove to her that this is something that I can accomplish before I tell her anything more.  Maybe someday I'll figure out a way to tell her.  In less typos, of course.  Just gotta find a way--but the time isn't right yet.  For now, I'm just left without words--just gotta ride it out.

JOY | KENNETH LEI