That’s the short version, but if you want a little more color than a two sentence blurb provides, then gather round and let me spin you the tale of a pale little weirdo that wanted to act.
I am the youngest child. For a lot of you, that is probably explanation enough, but I’m going to go on, just in case. I was always pretending to be something else, somewhere else, stuck in a fantasy world for longer than was probably healthy. Then, at age 14, I got the chance to take some acting classes downtown. They were classes on how to be a good commercial actor, but to my young eyes, these classes were the chance to finally be all the people I’d pretended to be. It was magic. I continued to take classes (improv, sitcom, drama) through high school and when I went off to college, I knew what I was going to do.
The University of Washington has a fantastic theater program and I took as full advantage of this as I could while also working to pay for said schooling. I learned how to craft a scene, how to break a character down and build them back up again, how to play to your partner and your audience, how to utilize the space your body occupies and that which it does not. I also learned how to work behind the scenes; I worked costume crew, took lighting, took sound design. It was the best time of my life. Then it was over. What to do now? Dive in, I guess!
My first jobs capitalized on all the connections I’d made in college, and each experience taught me more about being an actor and honing my craft. I began to land jobs as a sketch comedy writer/performer, as a web host, as a plucky but hardened orphan, as a businesswoman and mom. Every time I land a job, I feel so incredibly lucky that I get to do what I do. I am a vehicle for storytelling and I will never be sick of it.