Creating art is akin to panning for gold.

You get a giant pan. You throw in a bunch of dirt, sand, rocks, mud, twigs. Shake it vigorously, and at the bottom, you end up with some cool gold nuggets. Set those aside to re-visit and examine later. Repeat.

Discovering the truth in a well-written play employs the same process. Throw in a bunch of ideas, without judgment, and see what’s left at the bottom. Try stuff. Experiment. Jump up and down. Crawl on the floor like alligators. Stage a Shakespearean battle as a snowball fight. Collectively beat a large drum. Draw on each other with markers. Eliminate dialogue and speak only subtext. Move in slow motion. Explore opposites. Play tapeball. Dance, especially when it doesn’t “make sense.”

Explore. Discover. Create.

Now, if that nasty Judge is standing there watching with folded arms and a disapproving frown, observing this whole messy process, we’re not going to reveal much gold. He’ll exclaim, “Oh, that’s dirt. And those are rocks. And that? That’s just flatout garbage!” We’ll never accomplish anything, so the Judge advises us to not even start. The naysayer would be so pleased: “Ahhhh, I’ll never have to drop my guard, be vulnerable, allow others in, model abandonment, make an effort, or create something genuinely inspired that might reveal my true self.”

That terrified, critical, insecure Judge undermines our potential to freely engage in a creative process, much less stick around long enough to discover any awesome gold nuggets. This dude would totally have starved during the Gold Rush. (Pick one. California’s exploded in 1849.)

What to do?Fire the Judge. Let him go. Send him away. Just be done. Don’t allow him to live rent-free in your brain and take up valuable real estate any longer. Throw the Judge out the door. Clear your mind. Create space to create.

Cuz’ it’s gonna get messy in here.

I can’t wait.

In two weeks, I will be performing at the historic Croswell Opera House. I have complete creative control of the show. I selected the material, cast the piece, directed it, designed the costumes and make-up, publicized and produced it. It is a limited engagement: one day only. Running length of the show? Approximately two-and-a-half minutes.

Yes, minutes.

It is a one-woman show, and I am the title character. The Carrie Jay Show.

Who will attend? Casting directors, music directors, choreographers, and many eager actors performing their own one-person shows.

It is audition time at Croswell for their summer season. In fact, most theatres will be holding general auditions in the next two months for their upcoming seasons. This is an exciting time to be an actor, as there are a multitude of opportunities to perform.

Each performance will last about two to four minutes. You will shower, shave, dress, and primp; you will print your recent resume, trim and staple it to your newest headshot. You will go over your lines, practice your songs, and chug water in the car on your way to the theatre. You will experience a mixture of butterflies and confidence in your gut. You will run into old friends in the lobby, and it will feel like a mini-reunion. You will sail into the audition room, head held high, and be ready to give the performance of your life.

Every audition is an opportunity to perform. We actors live to perform. It’s in our blood, our bones, our hearts. We can’t not perform. We crave more than anything that feeling of freedom and abandon when we are completely immersed in the moment, taking a risk, being real, letting down our guard, allowing our selves to be exposed — and loved for our courage. When we offer our authentic selves, and genuinely connect with another human being, we are literally a force of nature.  It is exhilarating. And we want more.

Every aspect of preparing for an audition performance is precisely what we wish for in large-scale productions. You don’t need to be a billionaire, or a celebrity, or a star to have complete creative control over the work. You choose your material. You give yourself the juiciest role. You decide what, and how and who and why. You dress and make-up the lead, stage the piece and create the world.

Most importantly, you show up, be your complete, honest and true self. You go to those places that other people fear, and you relish it. The stakes are high, your motivations are clear: I want this! And I will do whatever it takes to get it. I am going to compete and overcome obstacles and dive in with one thousand percent of myself. I am open to the creative force in the Universe, in fact, I am channeling it.  I am a force to be reckoned with.

You have uncommon courage. You are unique. And you will get the part.

Enjoy audition season — a season of performances of your brilliant one-person show. You are the star, you are brave, you can do this. Prepare, breathe, and go for it.

See you on the boards!

Play with abandon. Work with abandon. Be with abandon.

Okay, that sounds appealing. But…precisely what are we abandoning?

Let’s try this: Abandon rules. Restrictions. Decorum. Self-editing. Abandon your current course of action when it involves attempting to fit into someone else’s idea of “right,” or even your own. In creating art, there is no right or wrong. It is, at its core, simply self-expression. Abandon the practice of fitting in, measuring up, phoning it in, and doing someone else’s work you couldn’t care less about. Abandon thinking that limits you in any way. Which brings us to…

Firing the Judge. This is huge. Desert him. Visualize that weasly guy who insists “I can’t do it” or “I’m too old” or “I’m too (fill in the blank)….” The one who stands there with folded arms and spews criticisms we allow to paralyze us. Externalize the naysayer. Send him down the street to the Pub and let him drown his sorrows. He’s terrified by the threat of exposure. We have spent so many years covering and adapting and hiding our true selves, we are out of the practice of being real. What if we show the world who we really are? You can start by sharing your authentic self with just one other person. Let freedom reign, baby, and fire the Judge. We’re onto him; he’s not welcome in our creative process. He can come to opening night and write some nasty review; we’ll be beaming all the way back to our dressing room, arms loaded with roses, and hearts full of joy and passion for having once again successfully expressed our selves with abandon.

Abandon the grim, stifled, strained practice of grinding out another day with a false smile plastered on our face, following someone else’s rules, with the intentions of living out our passions “someday.” You know what? “Someday” has just arrived, and we are boarding that ship and sailing on the seas of love, passion, expression, freedom, and joy. This journey is even better when shared, by the way. Model abandonment, and others will be inspired to do the same. Abandonment, like laughter, is infectious. Leave your mind empty. In fact, go out of your mind, and into your body and heart, which never lie. Take the leap, and discover what miraculous opportunities flow in.

Abandon yourself to indulge in your desires and impulses. Just do it. Tune in. Discover and real-ize your dreams. Express your innermost, authentic, self. Strip away pretense. Prune branches that no longer bear joyous fruit. Let down your guard. Be vulnerable. Let people in.

Finally, trust that you’re enough. Yes! You are enough!

Trust. Allow. Expose. Share. Encourage. Be open. Experience joy. Follow your passions. Love. Live.

And do all of the above with abandon.