It's Not Fair

It's not fair. That's all I can think about sometimes when I come out of rehearsal.

Rehearsing a show is a long, complicated, tiring, and sometimes tedious process. It's intensive, and it takes a lot out of you. But sometimes I walk out of rehearsals and I can't shake how unfair it is.

Unfair that the audiences who come see the show will, in a sense, see only the tip of the iceberg.

Before you accuse me of not understanding my job, I do know that it IS my job to do all the legwork of rehearsal and do all the intricate, tedious, intensive work to bring the character to life so that the things that are latent in the text come to life and are apparent to the audience--I know that. But that's not exactly what I mean.

I mean the discoveries I make--both in rehearsal and in research. I don't know if there's a way for me to get everything that I'm discovering and understanding across to an audience. Some of it, sure. But there are moments and discoveries and little understandings that no one besides me (and sometimes my director) will ever know.

It's not fair!

I wish I could show people--bring them along with me. But usually that's pretty impossible. And they probably wouldn't be half as excited about it as I am anyway.

And then I start to wonder...

does this make me selfish?

That I want to do this for a living because of moments like that, because of how excited they make me? To want to do something for a living because of how much I love it and how much I get out of it? That's the nature of an acting career, right? Actors don't act for the money, most of the time. They act because they love it, because it makes them come to life. That's certainly true for me.

But is that where my life and my purpose are supposed to stop?

Every once in a while, the doubts creep back. And I reach to justify it again, and I do, and I'm satisfied.
For the moment.
Until I start reveling in those moments again and I wonder,

does this make me selfish?