I’m still auditioning by way of self-tapes. But the relief I feel no longer trudging into crowded hallways packed with so much pre-audition anxiety leaves me wondering: has my ambition waned?
Editor's Note: Joey Parsons is co-host of the thebigda Podcast, where she and Dan Abbate explore authenticity, creativity, personal growth, and the often messy journey of becoming who we're meant to be.
Searching for Jim Morrison's Grave
I was desperate to find Jim Morrison’s grave.
I was in Paris with Dad and my stepmother, Cathey. Neither could fathom my fascination with graveyards and paying such homage, and frankly I couldn’t explain it. We finally found it. Shrouded in trinkets and flowers and tributes. I like The Doors, but I’m not a mega fan. What did I expect to feel?
The Fascination With Burning Out Young
Truthfully, I’m fascinated by the 27 club. Joplin. Cobain. Basquiat. Just to name a few. Fiery stars that burned hot and bright, flaring out quickly — leaving fans shattered and ravenous.
I’m now flipping through my mental rolodex of all the young, hot artists, actors, musicians I’ve seen burst onto the scene — scorching their singularity onto our hearts with a mind-blowing first album, or out-of-the gate-Oscar-winning performance. And then… time moves on. New, hot artists dominate the scene. Sophomore films flop. Second and third albums are not as well received. They don’t feel as exciting and fresh as the first. Subsequent releases are fewer and far between. The magic dims. What gives? Is it us? Is it them? Both?
I frequently contemplate the obsessions of my youth. Sometimes, I still get it. Other times… what was I thinking?!
Is My Best Work Behind Me?
One summer season in the 2000s, I played Ariel in “The Tempest” at a beloved upstate Shakespeare Festival. The role catered to my movement background, and honestly played to most of my strengths. It was a lot of fun.
I’ve been in many shows since then. But to this day, whenever I trek up to support friends and see a show at the same festival, longtime audience members will approach me and tell me how much that performance meant to them. I’m honored, of course. But I often leave thinking: Is my best work behind me? I wonder about all the musical artists, directors, actors who had a wildly successful first hit and… never quite got there again. Lordy. Is that me?
What Times Square Taught Me About Ambition
I had to walk Times Square adjacent today for an errand and I had a nagging feeling I didn’t quite understand. On my first visit to New York City, I stayed at the Doubletree Hotel on 47th Street, right in the heart of Times Square. I saw tons of Broadway shows. It was the perfect time for me to be there because I was so green and frantically ambitious — the energy of the center of the city fired me up. Now, I actively avoid it.
Several years later, when I actually moved to the city, I spent a lot of time in the theater district going to auditions. I'd look up at the buildings I was just about to enter filled with hope and yearning and think, That's where my life might begin today.
As I passed by those same buildings today I shuddered. I felt an overwhelming Thank GOD I'm not doing that anymore.
I really had to question this. I’m still auditioning by way of self-tapes. But the relief I feel no longer trudging into crowded hallways packed with so much pre-audition anxiety leaves me wondering: has my ambition waned?
I used to memorize the Entertainment Weekly Academy Award Special Edition backwards and forwards. Now, I rarely even watch The Oscars.
The Need to Feel Seen
I've lived here almost three decades. I've been determined the entire time. I've supported myself as an artist in one of the most expensive cities in the world. Though I haven’t hit it big, I’ve managed to create a solid reputation, and I've learned a lot as an actor, as an artist, and as a person. I’m certain I’m more pleasant to be around than I was thirty years ago.
My everyday life has absorbed, to some extent, what I used to get out of an in-person audition. I no longer feel such desperation to “show what I can do.” A lot of people have seen it. They know. And that NEED to feel seen? I have friends who make me feel seen now. It’s an interesting and blessed shift.
I think for some time, I’ve been down on myself, afraid I'd somehow given up. Given up on dreams I'd worked so hard for. Given up my ambition.
It's not that I'm no longer pushing myself. But there's something relieving about realizing that sometimes pushing is futile. I don't mean that in a fatalistic way. Pushing for pushing’s sake creates exhaustion, not necessarily opportunity.
What Michael Bauman Taught Me About Failure
We recently spoke with Michael Bauman again, and I asked about how he talks himself back from projects that don’t go as planned, or may even feel like outright failures. He laughed and explained that all failure does is refine his optimism. That phrase has been swirling in my brain ever since.
What If Later Isn't Lesser?
What if failure isn’t fiasco? What if later isn’t lesser? What if my optimism is simply far more refined?
I think it’s time to take another listen to Nirvana’s later album…
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At Clotine, we're fascinated by people who choose authenticity over approval, curiosity over convention, and growth over comfort.
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