A Zak Barnett Studios long-time student and enthusiast of all things acting and self-discovery, Ava Marilyn seeks to capture the essence of the studio in her writing through her weekly personal experiences and epiphanies and her findings about the deeper self and others. Through these diary entry-type updates from someone actively studying and working through the industry, she hopes to provide an insider’s look into the studio itself, its practices, and its impact.
The ZBS Master Class experience consists of scene study and improvisation but daily practices outside of the classroom context are also strongly encouraged. These practices usually take the form of meditation, reading, or journaling. When I first began my studies at ZBS, some ten years ago, we would read books together as a group, like The Untethered Soul or Grit, etc. These offerings provided students with reflection opportunities to look closer at their individual lives, fostering the learning to apply lessons and strategies to the acting craft.
The practice of journaling can take form in a variety of ways. It can be a mindless brain dump for a set number of minutes, or a created list of things one might be grateful for, or afraid of.
There really are endless options. One way to incorporate the writing discipline into routine is to make it a non-negotiable, first thing in the morning. I call it, “Morning Pages.”
We can pick up the pen and paper before allowing our eyes to default to phone screens, and simply free-write our mind’s musings. We don’t edit or judge our thoughts. We don’t make ourselves wrong or right. We freely explore, safe from distractions and boundaries.
We make this time sacred, giving it value and attention like it matters as much as brushing our teeth… until it becomes a habit, that brings about the inner evolution we might seek.
I struggled with this commitment for the longest time. I had been held captive in my previous views of journaling as if I was being graded or had to meet some deadline, which of course would stop me. Then I’d have this perfection obsession, which we all know is a slow form of madness. Releasing that is a process on its own. I’m getting there.
Perfect doesn’t exist. I find peace of mind in letting that go.
I would hold myself to an absurd standard and then feel overwhelmed or disappointed if I somehow missed the mark I’d set for myself. This would result in setting down my notebook, counting myself out, and giving up. But now that I have formed some new habits of standing by those already scheduled ten minutes, utilizing the writing as a practice for mastery, I’ve found the freedom to word dump whatever is happening in my head, and heart, and life, free of self sabotage and harsh critique. I’ve released my judgments and drastically enhanced my thought life.
And it feels so good. My head is free. My life is more calm.
The discoveries that have resulted in my scene study in class are now more emotionally rich and my ongoing ‘question’ is more deeply formed.
While journaling has allowed me to explore my creativity as an actor and my soul as a human being, it is okay to go through phases… some when I’m writing regularly and others when I set the pen down. At present, journaling is more of a “back burner” thing for me, as it’s not what I need in this moment. I feel proud of myself for understanding that and allowing what works for me now, which is a time of rest. I get to make this choice as a more self-aware sojourner; knowing what I need when, as I grow and learn as an artist.
I’ll pick it up again. There will be seasons for it like anything else.
I might dive deep into a book that speaks to where I’m at in a particular season of growth, or spend more quality time in meditation and contemplation. This is the beauty of our journey as artists. We can weave our practice in and out of several expressions.
In and out of class, we are learners and always open to various methods of seeking what’s true.
