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Acting on impulse - confessions of a born again Theso

By Rose Cooper - posted Tuesday, 13 October 2009


So what if I could convincingly lip-synch the entire soundtrack to South Pacific when I was four years of age - couldn’t everybody? So what if I spent the greater part of my childhood play time recreating entire episodes of Lost in Space in our backyard (reciting every character’s part, verbatim - while doing the obligatory running and falling from one side of the yard to the other to mimic the “Jupiter II being out of control”). My folks never saw it as anything to encourage or discourage. As far as they were concerned, as a female, my future was mapped out: leave school at 16, get a job (so I could pay board), leave home, get married, have kids and then … die, I guess.

When I was 17 and between jobs, I approached Dad with the idea of going to NIDA. I’d just read a magazine article about it and had a major epiphany, but he just gave me a lecture on why it was a pointless pursuit - and as I hadn’t yet grown a spine, I allowed him to extinguish my dreams like one of the many cigarettes overflowing in his bedside ashtray. According to him, the “job/marriage/kids/death plan” was the way to go.

The only other thing that interested me back then was sex. As this was not something that required exorbitant tertiary fees, (ergo, my father’s approval) my fascination with it as both a pastime and as a subject of genuine academic interest was something I could pursue freely - as an ideal adjunct to the quest for a suitable mate. And so I took jobs in retail, while I indulged in all the rites of passage one experiences when one has no ambition.

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Fast forward a few years - I bagged husband no.1 and had given birth to two boys. Unlike some, I found motherhood incredibly empowering. There I was making The Big Decisions in these little peoples’ lives - and they were thriving.

Finally, at the ripe age of 30, I found the drive to start addressing my creative urges. At first I heeded the call to write. Even though I strongly suspected professional writing was the reserve of well-to-do college-educated types or urban-raised, second and third generation newshounds, the combination of my newfound Mother-balls and turning 30 endowed me with enough “you only live once” gumption to give it a go. The writer’s creed is “write what you know” so most of my earliest work reeked of sex. In no time I was freelancing regularly for magazines and within three years I was short-listed for a national writing competition … a sign I was on the right track.

Fast forward a few years … a second marriage and a third son and my relocation to the Central Coast of New South Wales which is the all important part of the story. My new husband encouraged me to take singing lessons. It’s amazing what a bit of encouragement will do. Through those lessons I found out about auditions for My Fair Lady with the local musical theatre group. There was a huge roll up, but I was lucky enough to land in the chorus. As soon as I set foot on stage, I knew where I truly belonged. At last I’d found my tribe - other people who were as simultaneously insecure and ego-centric as I was.

Since 2002 I’ve performed in nine musicals and at least as many plays. I’ve had very minor parts and leading roles. I’ve completed courses in Theatresports® learning how to improvise - just like they do on Thank God You’re Here and Whose Line is it Anyway? I learned to trust my instincts and take risks. My Mother-balls are now the size of watermelons.

Amazingly, I actually started earning money as an actor - role-playing for corporate training sessions and performing in government sponsored water-conservation plays performed for primary schools. I haven’t had a “proper job” since opting to be a stay-home mother 20 years ago, so I lack any recognised skills except those which are innate or hard won via the school of hard knocks. I have no choice but to continue on this path. With maturity, I’ve learned to value these skills as highly as if I had a row of letters after my name. I’m straddling two “careers” and while it’s not lucrative, it’s still the right way for me. It’s who I am.

When my confidence finally emerged, I wasn’t about to keep life waiting on the doorstep while I stood in front of the mirror worrying - “does my head look too big in this?” Life’s too short. Sometimes you just need faith. Just as my decision to be a writer was quickly reinforced by a panel of expert judges, so too was my decision to be an actor.

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My Valhalla came in the form of a deliciously controversial little play called The Vagina Monologues. I’d heard enough about it to know that if anyone ever produced it on the Central Coast, that I’d crawl over broken glass to be part of it. I’d heard that the play was aimed at stimulating dialogue about women’s sexuality issues in the broader community and that’s been my raison d’etre.

I didn’t realise it at the time but for ten years, an organisation called V-Day has endorsed fundraising productions of The Vagina Monologues to be staged around the world at the same time every year, to raise awareness and funds for the prevention of violence towards women and girls. This was the Central Coast’s first V-Day. Prospective auditionees were asked to choose one of the ten monologues with which we identified the most strongly. I chose “The Woman Who Loved to Make Vaginas Happy”. It was written from the point of view of a middle-aged (yay!) sex worker who exclusively serviced women. It wasn’t her occupation that drew me (although I can think of worse ways to earn a quid), it was her motivation. The character derived immense pride from the primal sounds that she was able to elicit from her clients. She discovered the connection between moaning and transcendental pleasure. As it’s my personal belief that inorgasmia would be virtually obsolete if women just learned to let go, this chick was preaching to the choir.

The 15-minute monologue concludes with the interpretation of 20 different climactic moans all with different names such as “the WASP moan”, “The Jewish Moan” and “The Machine Gun”. Sure, there’s humour implied in the titles, but I added an essential element of truth to each sound. The director said afterwards that I’d given the best audition she’d ever witnessed (they could hear me in the car park).

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The inaugural V-Day Wyong 2007’s two performances of The Vagina Monologues raised $12,000 for local women’s shelters and legal aid. This was backed up with four performances for V-Day Gosford and Wyong 2008 and raising another $40,000. For more information on how your theatre group or college can become involved in this great cause, visit: www.vday.org.



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About the Author

Rose Cooper is a freelance writer and actor who has contributed to many national publications over the past 20 years. She was Australian Women's Forum Magazine's most prolific contributor as well as their Sex Advice Columnist. Her areas of expertise include comedy, women's health and sexuality issues, relationships, theatre and pop culture. For more of Rose's articles visit: www.insiderose.com

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