Experience an alchemical conversation with The Actor and Amie Martine
In a hotel in Amman, Jordan Amie Martine works with an award-winning, A-list actor who shows her the power of compassion through a series of emotional character shifts in real time.
THE ACTOR's COMPASSION WORKSHOP
“We’ll give people a new way to embody real feelings they may not know they’re capable of allowing. They’ll come into our shop and try them on — like shoes in a shoe store! They’ll walk around in sensations and that can be transformative. Not acting for someone’s movie, but for the story of their life becoming alive and connected. Compassion’s the sole of that new shoe — the s.o.l.e. sole of a new shoe the soul is wearing!”
The following text is an excerpt from Chapter Five in THE POWER of AMIE MARTINE, speculative fiction novel by Laurie Perez
I’ve seen him on the big screen, watching from a cushioned seat with popcorn in my lap. I’ve seen him interviewed, telling stories and doing impressions for studio audiences and enchanted talkshow hosts. I’ve worked with him routinely via virtual connection, interacting with pixel and light translations of his presence. But I haven’t been right there in the room with him during a full-blown transformation. Today I was never more than thirty-six inches away, directly inside the tide of brainwaves streaming. Immersed in electro-magnetic fields his heart emitted as he shape-shifted from one persona to the next, we were testing the boundaries of our ideas. Our task for the day was to develop micro-scripts for a performance piece he wants to take on the road next year. Engaging with small audiences, he intends to illuminate themes of compassion by speaking with them in the guise of different characters. In theory, it has sounded intellectually wonderful — a theatrical experience like this could be one in a million, uniquely refined for each audience. What he showed me today discarded intellect and ripped open that neat, theoretical packaging. He made it visceral. One minute, we’d be evaluating a character’s goals, discussing what cues and prompts an audience might need from that person. Then he’d settle into a meditative pose while I waited silently. When he opened his eyes minutes later, there was a completely different person looking back at me. His voice adjusted, cadence and posture changed, frequency and vocabulary completely fresh and new — he became a person I’d never met before. This wasn’t a man pretending to be someone else; it was that other person come alive, walking around in The Actor’s skin. Someone aggressive and fearful: I felt myself backing away even as he stood still. Someone depressed, in shock, utterly shamed or humiliated: I felt tempted to console and comfort.
Whatever emotion he dialed in, I felt it penetrate my emotional state, invade and permeate my frequency.
The way you might be standing in line behind someone at the grocery and have an irrational desire to move to another line — because they’re putting out hostility or anger. Requiring no direct interaction, that sensation swarms you like a noxious gas. The next line over, a child is giggling loudly while a sibling’s giving tickle after tickle. Instinctively you gravitate toward innocent levity, a child’s potent antidote to human toxicity. “We’re in each other’s fields, Amie. All the time! A brainwave or a heart field — these things have been measured by science; they’re not imaginary. One person’s field can extend several feet into the space around them. Several feet! That’s no joke. “We rock in each others’ fields all. the. time. I want to use that juice to get into people’s grooves. That’s what you’ve taught me I can do, Amie. I have a skill set that’s good for more than just entertainment.”
In the TAC Shop, we’re going to cultivate that potential. His performances will be the banner call to other actors.
“There are so many possible applications in the real world,” The Actor explains while I make notes. “Think of it like therapy — but without the erudite proselytizing that sends you cowering off into a mental closet, feeling like a victim of your own story. This is a direct way in. Bypass the junk, get right to the soul — like you did with me!” “How do you see it happening?” “Person to person. It starts with a real connection. Take a person who’s got real depression. Bluer than blue can stand — gray inside, wet concrete heaping over suffocated joy — I mean, they’re downer than down, and have been for a while. “Now sit them with an actor, someone who’s really got the chops for this. Sit them close like this:” He arranges two chairs so they’re facing, guides me to sit in one, then positions himself in the other. “Give me your hands — okay, like this.” I watch him close his eyes and inwardly focus. Sensations of warmth and joy begin to emanate from him; I feel it physically. He lets this build a while, not in any hurry. “They’ll take it like a vitamin — or a taste of cool water on a hot day. At first it won’t mean that much to them because it’s just a suggestion. But here they are, sitting with a person who is brazenly happy. How will that suggestion affect them?” “I know how it affects me — it’s wonderful. But maybe — ” “Exactly. They’re not there yet. It might put them off; it might be too soon. But I don’t care. I just hold that space, keep it alive a minute or two longer. Then I downshift.” This transition takes longer. I feel the upbeat sensation splinter and fade out while something heavier takes over his presence. He’s moved into sorrow, a dank loneliness that’s haunting, oppressively close to me. I see his body shudder. His breathing is labored and held back. Tears begin to emerge. “This is catharsis. The act taps in, meets them where they are. It’s confusing, hollow. So incredibly sad. And so we’ll stay inside it a while. Not picking it apart. Not interrogating the hungry pain body, but just confirming. Yes. This place feels exactly this way. This is where you are. I get it.” It’s almost too real, even for me. I think back to the days I sat with curtains drawn at home, pouring vodka I barely had the will to drink. What would it have been like to have someone who could join me at that level of despair? Someone innately healthy who could be close but remain separate, capable of moving where I felt stuck? “Now we let it go. There is a light we can draw from — remember? We experienced that first, at the beginning of the exercise.” He shape shifts again. Tears that had been wet on his cheeks evaporate with time. The mood he projects gradually lifts. Small increments of change build one after the other until he’s opening his eyes, beaming acceptance, love and kindness.
Before I know to expect it, I feel childlike and giddy.
We are laughing. Unstoppably laughing as if the most goldenly absurd thing has just occurred. Hilarious, enlightening, unconditionally resilient mirth echoes back and forth, growing lighter with each bounce off our respective frames. “Now that’s a journey capable of breaking spells.” Standing and re-situating the furniture, I agree. It does feel as if we went on a kind of journey. More dreamlike than actual, it’s had a positive affect on how I feel about the day. “The body has to know what it feels like to be in a different state,” he’s reading from my notes, handing them to me as I pack up to leave. “Yes. You’re getting it. How else will the mind and heart know they can get there? It’s not a cure, Amie. It’s not a fix — but it can realign a person’s compass. “We’ll give people a new way to embody real feelings they may not know they’re capable of allowing. They’ll come into our shop and try them on — like shoes in a shoe store! They’ll walk around in sensations and that can be transformative. Not acting for someone’s movie, but for the story of their life becoming alive and connected. Compassion’s the sole of that new shoe — the s.o.l.e. sole of a new shoe the soul is wearing!” “I love it when you’re exuberant,” I applaud him. “At least you know how to filter my insanity for the masses. Thank god you’re the one writing. This was our best workshop, yet — don’t you think?” “I had no idea it would be so moving. Working with you the last few months has been great, but this was amazing. We’ve needed to have this kind of personal interaction so I could understand how acting really works.”
The passage above is an excerpt from Chapter Five in THE POWER OF AMIE MARTINE, Book 2 of The Amie Series trilogy.
Thank you for reading.
Contact the author through her social media: Instagram (@laurieperez_author) or Twitter/X (@joybroker) Share the excerpt using the hashtag #amienovels
This cocoon you’ve been traveling in is meant to rip apart.
“Unforgettable.” "It is luminous!" "The Look is one of those great books; it needs to be re-read and re-read." Speculative Fiction | Literary | Metaphysical and Visionary
INTRODUCING: AMIE MARTINE
Amie — pronounced ah`mee as in the French : mon amie
L.A. actors, Sufi poets, deadly Dutch lovers : A sexy new take on Orpheus and Eurydice served with chasers of very cold Icelandic vodka. Set in Phoenix, Hollywood, Iceland, 13th century Persia and beyond the veil, THE LOOK has a vast, global scope with an intimacy you will not want to leave.
- If you like shows like THE OA … read THE LOOK
- If you like poets like Rumi, Hafiz, Attar… read THE LOOK
- If you like actors and their craft… read THE LOOK
- If you like Orpheus & Eurydice… read THE LOOK
- If you like diving deep in mysteries of consciousness…
- If you like the colors of aurora borealis…
- If you like Icelandic vodka…
- If you like traveling through time…
- If you like (or survived) a long, dark night of the soul…
- If you like mind-bending self-discovery…
- If you like Irish poets…
- If you like (or despise) red-eye flights to NYC…
- If you like exploring life’s BIG questions…
- If you like urban stargazing…
- If you like soulful sensuality…
- If you like unconventional love…
- If you like being alive…
- If you’re not sure… read THE LOOK
“I had such profound thoughts, I often reread parts to re-experience and meditate on the possibilities.” -Samantha “This book has forever engrained simple beautiful truths that I will constantly remind myself so I don’t forget.” -Cheryll “Every few pages, there’s a line that cracks me wide open.” -Mark “I recently finished reading Laurie Perez’s The COSMOS of Amie Martine. The last book of a trilogy with which I fell in love. No words I can type will make justice to Amie. I encourage you to get to know her.” -Pablo