Sometime this summer I called two of my friends for an emergency girls’ night out at one of my favourite bars in Montreal (it had been a long couple of days). As we sipped prosecco and whiskey (for me), I asked them something that had been on my mind: “How do you know you’ve reached a dead end?”
They stared at me confused. I attempted again: “How do you know when your talent has reached its limits? How do you distinguish between, this is something I can work on and this is as far as my work can go and my talent can’t push me further?”
They both seemed to agree that you only reach a roadblock when you wish it to be so. I argued further, some people (my mom included) believe that if a brick wall appears, you find a way to surpass it: break it down or go around it. In this case, we were not talking about getting through to someone, or getting an A on that particularly annoying statistics test. We were talking about a talent, specifically acting.
What had brought on those thoughts was a certain scene in a movie with Anne Hathaway and Robert De Niro (The Intern). Ms. Hathaway pours her heart out to Mr. De Niro. Quite honestly, I am impartial towards Ms. Hathaway – she’s a good actress. I never really paid attention to her acting (which is a good thing in my case) until that scene. I don’t know why it hit me how natural she was. Saying something like that about an Academy Award winner sounds weird, I’m aware. It might have been brought on because I had spent days trying to edit a scene in which the acting was at best “okay, yeah, good.”
Being an actress myself, I wondered: “what if I’m oblivious to the limits of my talent? What if, past a certain point no matter the amount of classes you take, you just can’t improve anymore?”
My friends and I agreed to disagree: they kept saying that it’s all about the person and their take on it whereas I believed that someone should be realistic and some walls are just not meant to be broken.
Now, I’m sitting in my room in Dublin. It’s cold out and I’m not sharing any drinks with anyone. The past month has been intensively introspective. There is this wall in front of me but the funny thing is that it is taking me a while to even realize what that wall represents. Is it acquiring a job? And if so, am I meant to find a job in marketing or production? Or is it Dublin and by extension Montreal?
Over the last month, I watched a serious amount of shows, and it just made me realize – again – how much I want to be a part of the entertainment world. I am aware that I have more solid contacts in Montreal – the script I want to produce this summer would be more feasible there. So, what am I doing in Dublin then? Since I am here, should I keep charging ahead and break this wall? Or should I give up and go back to Montreal?
If I go back, then is the wall Dublin? Is it my will? There are only three things I know for facts: I love Dublin; it was never in my plans to work as a marketer for longer than 2-3 years; the most fun I’ve had in months has been working on my novel the past two weeks. Considering that, why would I waste my energy on finding a job within the marketing field (even if it is interesting)?
In that case, could the wall be my love for production and creation and I’m not meant to break it, in effect redirecting me onto my initial path that I have strayed from?
Or is it that the wall represents an illusion of what I thought I wanted and only by breaking this wall do I move ahead by going back to Montreal and returning to what I have always wanted to do? Because, why would I try creating a new network in Dublin if I already have one to work with in Montreal? Just for the love of being in Dublin? In that case the wall is Dublin.
It seems to me that both my friends and I were correct in our beliefs. I guess again it comes down to perception. Am I admitting defeat or am I seeing it as a win for my betterment? Thoughts?
Here’s “Alone Tonight” from Jay Park’s latest album “Everything You Wanted.” I have been listening to his album on repeat for the past weeks; he speaks wise words once in a while, this man. (Aquaman and Me Like Yuh deserve special mentions because they are absolutely perfect in their ratchetness.)