Synopsis Of A Monologue Was Just Gone !

The horn has already sounded and I’m still running. I can feel my blood pulsing in my ears. The sounds of useless advice feels the air. I continue to run. I come across a cave and ran into it. I gasp in shock and as I walk into a lab filled with mindless people editing videos. A film crew rushes at me and says, “If you were able to be in Divergent, which character would you be?” I shake my head in confusion. I attempt to back up slowly, but they grab me and place me in front of a computer and yell, “Edit!” The slam the headphones on my head and everything becomes a blur.

I went to acting workshops to perfect my monologue for my audition. After I auditioned, the director commented on my improvement; I felt acknowledged and that maybe I would get a part. When the cast list was posted, I again dashed to it and scanned it. It took no time for my eyes to catch the sight of my name, "Shyanne Leon" written on the cast list. I was casted as "fairy" and had no lines. I felt irrelevant to the production, but I did not want to take my part for granted so I stuck with it. It was a great experience, but I could not help but wonder why I got such a small part when the director said I had improved, and I began to doubt my acting

Normally, the saying goes something like “you don’t know what you have until it’s gone”. I mean, it makes sense if the thing that’s gone isn’t a lowlife asshole who couldn’t give you a second thought, but could give you the taste of blood in your mouth.

I never forced her to dress overly professional, never said she had to wear a dress suit

"I’m so nervous,” I complained to my mom as we walked into the Waukesha Civic Theatre. “What if I’m not good enough. I haven’t even prepared that much!” It was a crisp September day and some leaves had already started changing color. On the way home from school my mom told me about a play that the theater puts on near us every year and thought I would be good for it. Since I had only heard about the audition that day, it gave me a few hours to pick my song and be prepared for whatever part they wanted me to read. The next song that came on the radio was the song “Edge of Glory” by Lady GaGa and because it was in my vocal range I thought it would be good for me. Little did I know that this audition would change my view of theater.

THE ORNATE SCRIPT ON THE BOARD TWISTED in the candlelight, making the letters and numbers dance in my head. They were jumbled and indistinct, like alphabet soup. When Claire pushed the heart-shaped piece into my hand, I startled. I wasn’t normally so twitchy, and hoped Rachel wouldn’t notice. The Ouija board was her favorite present that night, and Claire gave it to her. I got her a bracelet. She wasn’t wearing it. Kneeling on the carpet, I passed the piece to Rachel. Claire shook her head, oozing disdain. Rachel put down the piece. “It’s just a game, Bell.” She smiled, her teeth looking even whiter in the dim light. Rachel and I had been best friends since preschool, and where she was dark and wild, I was pale and cautious. But less so when

I was literally done with Ecolab’s excuses so I called and asked for a quote from Massey and a gentleman stopped by today we went over the property.. Attached document is a copy of the quote that I was giving by the Massey represented.

I fell asleep I had a dream I heard a sheep I started to scream I ran away from the field I saw shooting stars It began to reveal My bizarre fear of guitars and milk bars

*Audition tip: When preparing for an audition, don't be nervous because you're worried about acting the part... Remember- I'm not nervous because I am this character; I feel its emotions, its struggles, its love and hate.

1. No matter how hard we try to prepare ourselves for challenging experiences and try to stay positive, it becomes harder to do than planned when the time comes. It was the end of the last semester and I was on the verge of emotional depression that totally overwhelmed me. During the exam period, I wasted my weekends on the Internet, chatting and Facebook-ing. I needed to submit an important paper on Tuesday morning. On Sunday night, after wasting so much time of mine and having a little red eyes because of so much exposure to electronic screens, I sat down to write my paper. Only then did I realize that the paper was due the next morning, not on Tuesday. I was extremely nervous because it was too little a time to finish it. Moreover, I was so angry with myself that I wanted to cry. It was a realization that I was off course in my study habits and that I had not overcome my habit of willingly putting myself in difficult positions. The more I thought about being in that mess, the angrier I got with myself. I got even angrier thinking about how it was not the first time in my life that I put myself in such a situation. I could not concentrate on my paper because of that emotional response. Then suddenly I thought that I just needed to talk to someone and calm down. I called my classmate and just told her about everything. She said that the instructor had actually extended the deadline until Thursday. It was such a relief. I thanked her profusely and decided

Overall I feel like I didn't do very well at all on this assessment task. I believe that I could of done a lot better in the acting part by not stoping in the middle. I did get very upset after I performed due too me feeling like I knew it and I practised it so much that I was so disappointed in myself for stuffing the whole monologue up. I got myself all worked up before performing so that when I stumbled during my monologue I blanked.

It seems pathetic really. Writing to a diary after all that’s happened. But I guess it’s kind of comforting. Because if I read back a page Sebastian’s still alive. And I’m still happy. And I can forget that he’s dead. It seems so much worse writing that. Admitting that he’s gone. For good. And never, ever coming back. If I could swap, I would in an instance. I’d be in a better place. And my eyes wouldn’t sting and my stomach wouldn’t hurt from crying. And Sebastian would move on. With his life which, don’t get me wrong, I would like to do, but how?

Yeah, just looking at plays that I've never dealt or heard of before. In my personal opinion a rash decision over the choice of mononologue could show the auditioner the type of actor you are, therefore putting you into a steorotyped cast. There are many performers going into a auditioning room with their heads up Steven Berkoff's ass. Perhaps look at other performers that influenced Steven.

Getting organized to write a paper is the worst thing ever; the idea charts, the constant erasing, getting up repeatedly to sharpen my pencil. I remember writing this particular paper; I had just gotten to school and put my bag in my cubby hole. The first thing out of Mr. Leisch’s mouth (my teacher at the time) was, “today we are going to write for the entire day, we are falling behind in this subject compared to the other three classes and we need to practice.” As the rest of my peers groaned and bellyached I was thrilled, “today will be the day I write a six!” I told myself. As my teacher gave us our assignment and I

We opened the show with a trio that my friend had been working on since the beginning of year and it was up hill from there. Piece after piece we came on and performed what we had learned and showcased our talents. My friends did a duet rite before I sang my final song. As the bowed I began to get nervous. Hand shaking I walk out on stage with my stool trying to tell myself that this is going to go great. As Mrs. Storti begins to play my intro the piano soothes me a little and I open my mouth to sing and nothing comes out. At this point my voice teacher is replaying the intro and I am staring at all these people I've invited blankly. A minutes goes by and I finally get up the courage to look at Mrs. Storti who tells me to get my she music that I have backstage. Although I got through “Harbenra” it was not as big or dramatic as I had