Catwalk

Ya better work.

I used to coach teen girls how to walk a runway. 

It was for some kind of acting school, semi-professional agency. They're now closed. The kids would show up to class from all over the state. Some would drive for hours just to take classes. 

These teens were mostly training as actors. 

They were full-on study. 

Hoping for their big break. 

Part of them needing to learn to walk on a runway, was that these kids were building a portfolio. 

The more one kid could do, the better her chances to making it big in Hollywood (or so what was sold to them on purchase).

I don't know if that's true, I'm not in the industry in Hollywood. 

I taught these classes in Northern California.

The kids needed to be able to memorize lines. 

Cry on demand

Move their body on cue

Talk about themselves

Be nerdy and sporty. Be dainty and bratty. Be humble and flamboyant.

And I needed to teach them be fierce AF on the runway. 

In the event that they booked a show whilst waiting for callbacks on their extended stay visits to the bay area and down south. 

Sometimes I still think about those kids and wonder where they have ended up? They'd be adults now, most of them anyway. 



Do you ever think that you're sitting here on the couch of your life waiting for something to happen

Or you're hoping something does. Anything

Sometimes I do that. But I've no idea what I'm waiting for.

A sign? 

Or a person to tell me exactly what to do, so I can follow their directions, plug in the numbers, and expect that one result to come through. 

I guess it would be easier that way. 

I'm also not sure it's true. Like those actor kids above, they were in full-on prep to make it big, and I'm not sure any of them landed amongst their dreams. 

You can check-mark the path and still end up turned around and off road.

I've done that before and it never led me anywhere but loathing myself.

And you know where loathing yourself gets you?

Nowhere. 

You stay put. 

And sometimes you drag others down with you because it's really sad at the bottom. And you want company. 

Like that old saying, "misery loves company." 

I have to be on top of my misery. 

Or I can spiral. 

I talked about my depression a few emails back.

In return, so many of you have reached out to share your own experience with depression or how a close friend or loved one living with it. 

Somehow, me writing something so personal has allowed so many of you to open up, even by writing out loud to one person. 


I write. 

I practice yoga (and non-yoga-yoga). 

I dance. 

I move.

I learn new things.

I squeeze the art inside of me out. 

And that is how I stay on top.

I know full well that if I cannot take care of myself, I certainly cannot take care of another. 

I've got to strap on those boots and work that walk.

And so do you.

Love, 
Steph