Part 2 - Licking my wounds
You'd be forgiven for thinking that was the end of my particular journey. But it wasn't. I didn’t give up and say, “Maybe acting’s not for me.” No. I was made of sterner stuff. Or perhaps I was simply too stubborn and arrogant to admit defeat. I was a Taurus after all. Yes, I’d endure more, fuelled by the magical belief... somehow, I could do it.
My mind was made up. If it took forever, I’d get into drama school. I bought a book entitled, “To The Actor” by Michael Checkov. I studied and practiced the method. I showed my new and better chosen speeches to members of my family, and performed them as a character created from inside; something with foundations and a living, beating heart. I knew how Mercutio walked; how he tilted his head and swaggered and smiled his dirty little smile when he talked about women. I knew he was a reckless artist of the sword and had a glint in his eye that meant mischief to his enemies. I was re-born. And to the battle field I returned having licked my wounds and found both a sword and a shining coat of armour.