The world outside, asleep

A dream woke me up. 

It’s early, the world outside still dark.  I can hear an airplane overhead, which is unusual.  They must have re-routed him.

There was an actor in my dream.  No one that I knew in life, but I knew him in the dream.  We had worked together.  He had been nominated.  I had just heard the news, was surprised.  He was walking towards me and I was so happy for him.  Genuinely happy.  I congratulated him.  We embraced.  When I pulled back from the hug, I saw, not actor eyes, but truth and fulfilment.  A fullness inside.  A creative life that was rewarding.  And I was surprised to realize that that was who he was and how much I liked him.

I woke up and lay in bed, wondering. 

I was younger in the dream.  Around the age that I was when I quit.

The expression in his eyes, was not one that filled the eyes of the actors I knew.

My son has that expression though.  Last night, when Rog & Jim were here, with Jim’s sister, Joy.  All of us, sitting around the living room, nibbling on cheese, sipping our drinks.  When Will was talking about the play he’d finished, his character, he had that expression in his eyes.

I hope and pray that if Will does go into the acting world, that he is able to keep that joy and purity and love of the work, of diving in, be able to keep that feeling and the truth of himself. 

Do I miss acting?

Sometimes.

The not knowing what is around the corner.  The creating with other people.  The traveling to far off places.  The diving into the character and in doing so, finding out something unknown about oneself.

I haven’t worked on my manuscript since the middle of October. 

It didn’t start out that way. 

I was taking a short break because I had to go on book tour and was tired.  Usually, I keep the writing up on book tour, but this time I didn’t.  Then when I got back, I was supposed to get the edits on December 15th and I decided that I was going to take those two weeks off, because what was the point of diving into my work, when I was just going to have to put it down again in two weeks.

I decided to use those two weeks to re-charge, relax, and get ready for Christmas.

My edits didn’t come on December 15th.  They are now supposed to arrive in the beginning of January.  And still, I didn’t write.  I’ll wait.  I told myself.  My children are here.  Enjoy.

But now, I wonder if I will ever want to write again?  Taking the break, from all these years of writing every single day, breaking the habit, doesn’t make me chomp at the bit to get back to the page, like I thought it would. 

It is having the reverse effect, and I am wondering, if I will ever have that burning desire, that need, to go to the page?  And if I want to, will I be able to?  I don’t even know if I know how to write anymore?  I don’t know if I ever did.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Wednesday, December 31, 2008 in Chewing the Fat