I have had the rare fortune as an aspiring actor to have been cast as a drag queen no less than three times in my still relatively short career.
Unlike some of my other fellow homosexuals, I actually do not enjoy wearing women's clothing and painting my face like some contemporary homage to traditional American Indian warriors preparing for war. I even hate shaving and thoroughly enjoy maintaining my stubble. But I think the spirits have all conspired to make sure that I keep my sense of humour because I have played a mixed race draq queen unceremoniously ousted from her makeshift salon in District six (Buckingham Palace District Six), a camp mortician donning 9inch false eyelashes (Mickey Mortis in Fangs), a middle-aged social anthropologist with an affinity for arias in falsetto (Margaret Mead in Hair) and recently understudy for Angel in the musical RENT. Then there's the nudity! Do one show with your kit off and your agents send you to anything (God bless them) that invloves the slightest derobing. I have also been in three seperate shows that required full frontal nudity. MY full frontal nudity! But in all fairness I do find something liberating about the fact that I have flashed more than a few thousand people. Its the ultimate "up yours!" in a way. Not that I wish to say "up yours!" to the world but its sort of like going: "nya nya nya nya nya! look what I've got!" You know what I mean? But this post was not an oppurtunity to advertise my CV so much as to save myself hours of correspondence explaining the title of my Blog. (So much more original than Bruce's Blog dontcha think?" So welcome! Hope I can make you smile and even laugh occassionally as I share the voices in my head with you (So much cheaper than therapy). Looking back at my career I ask myself why I have been typecast and what the Universe is trying to tell me. Then I think of M. Scott Pecks wonderful book The Road Less Travelled, and I realise there can be none more so than the one taken by a Naked Drag Queen. Best I wear sensible shoes and ditch the heels.
Unlike some of my other fellow homosexuals, I actually do not enjoy wearing women's clothing and painting my face like some contemporary homage to traditional American Indian warriors preparing for war. I even hate shaving and thoroughly enjoy maintaining my stubble. But I think the spirits have all conspired to make sure that I keep my sense of humour because I have played a mixed race draq queen unceremoniously ousted from her makeshift salon in District six (Buckingham Palace District Six), a camp mortician donning 9inch false eyelashes (Mickey Mortis in Fangs), a middle-aged social anthropologist with an affinity for arias in falsetto (Margaret Mead in Hair) and recently understudy for Angel in the musical RENT. Then there's the nudity! Do one show with your kit off and your agents send you to anything (God bless them) that invloves the slightest derobing. I have also been in three seperate shows that required full frontal nudity. MY full frontal nudity! But in all fairness I do find something liberating about the fact that I have flashed more than a few thousand people. Its the ultimate "up yours!" in a way. Not that I wish to say "up yours!" to the world but its sort of like going: "nya nya nya nya nya! look what I've got!" You know what I mean? But this post was not an oppurtunity to advertise my CV so much as to save myself hours of correspondence explaining the title of my Blog. (So much more original than Bruce's Blog dontcha think?" So welcome! Hope I can make you smile and even laugh occassionally as I share the voices in my head with you (So much cheaper than therapy). Looking back at my career I ask myself why I have been typecast and what the Universe is trying to tell me. Then I think of M. Scott Pecks wonderful book The Road Less Travelled, and I realise there can be none more so than the one taken by a Naked Drag Queen. Best I wear sensible shoes and ditch the heels.
