Time to train
Sometimes people ask me why I’ve never tried to take up performing arts as a career. There are many reasons for this: I already have a career as a librarian; I’m scared; I don’t know that I’m good enough; even if I am good enough, I know that being good enough doesn’t guarantee success… I could go on. Generally the reason that I give is that I know very well that I need training, and I can’t afford it. It is still true that I simply cannot afford full-time training, but I have finally managed to make myself take a first step and join a part-time training course.
So tomorrow morning, I will start a course at the London School of Musical Theatre (a.k.a. LSMT). One term’s worth of Saturdays which will involve acting, singing and the ever-scary dancing. I am both very excited and rather scared (but then, I am scared of pretty much everything, so that’s hardly news). I want to do this course, because I want to get better at performing, particularly the dance aspect of musical theatre. Whether it leads to more or different opportunities is essentially irrelevant – I want to improve. My involvement in musical theatre is much more than a hobby, and I take doing well on stage as seriously as I take doing well at work – that is, very seriously indeed. But regular readers already know this.
This course is important to me. I will have to get an earlier train every Saturday than I do during the week to get to work, and a day on the course is the same length as a work day (and probably more tiring). But those things don’t put me off. I’ve re-arranged much of the rest of life to make the space and time to do this. It’s too good an opportunity to squander – training at a highly respected institution, a chance to improve my skills and my confidence, to meet new people (also scary) and to get better at something I love. I have no illusions – this is going to be hard work. If it’s to have any value, I will have to push and challenge myself (or be pushed and challenged), and I will probably experience more than a few moments of frustration when I struggle to pick things up. I am probably going to have to unlearn bad habits I’ve picked up along the way. My dictaphone may well wear itself out from overuse. But I know it will be more than worth it.
Tomorrow morning at 9.30, my stomach will be tied in knots. But while it’s true that I’m scared, I’m very excited. This term is going to be exhausting, but it’s going to be absolutely fantastic!