Unpacking

A few thoughts - semi-cryptically, mais naturallement.

Casted Our Town. Think we've got a good ensemble on our hands. Need to look for the two sides to each character. Can't wait to really sit down with my Emily - I think we got the right one. Did ensemble building, though, first few days. My Simon Stimpson, too, is...going to have a wonderful experience. V. excited for her (yes, her).

It's a curious thing, though, to be directing that age but not my old troupe - there are things that I take for granted that I forget they don't. Such as, we ended the first rehearsal with a wish drop - you wish something for the person beside you - either for what they need as a person or in the play. It's a nice (quick) bonding thing. And my Stage Manager asked whether it was supposed to be for just what the actor needed, or what the person needed. So I told him what I'd forgotten isn't typical of traditional theatre experiences - that I am just as interested in the person as the actor - to be honest, I'm more interested in the person than the actor. The actor is what he does but not who he is. Existence always trumps action when it comes to love.

Anyway, that seemed to give him pause - which surprised me for a minute, because again I'm accustomed to my old troupe who simply expects that...just because that's what they know...anywho - so I take that pause to tell them all the secret: that theatre can change you if you let it. And out of the corner of my eye, I see my Romeo - now my George - nodding; sitting forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped, lips shut tight so he won't jump up and start telling them everything because it's not the time to tell them - they'll find out soon enough, those who want to find out. Those who want to enter the wardrobe will learn, very soon, what it is to be a King or Queen of Narnia....

And it was interesting to me, because I'd never put those words out there, I don't think. Not at the beginning, anyway. Possibly never. I'd mention it to a soul who'd just discovered what had happened to him - but I never thought (clearly - pun apparently intended) to mention it before. Why did I never invite before? It's very strange of me. So many things one knows that one never thinks to say before it becomes a thing of hindsight....

So, I hope it's a good time, a good play, a good troupe. I think it'll be good. Wow. Our Town, huh? Seems to me I need to rewatch Anne of Green Gables....

Classes are good. It's wonderful to be back with friends - familiar faces - that's the best part: the knowing already what's going to happen. It's WONDERFUL to be back with Bob, taking class with him, with several of the folks from last year, too! Happy day! And I find it comforting to be doing several of the games/exercises that we did with him last year - comforting because I know what to do in said game, and comforting to know that even he repeats his own games and therefore I can repeat games with my kids. Nice to know.

He read us The Giving Tree on Wednesday. (That's the sort of teacher he is. I love Bob.) I was totally crying through the first section - but then I didn't cry towards the end. I realized that I couldn't be the Giving Tree anymore - that I oughtn't be. It's part of this whole...difference in...what I am? Who I'm meant to be? At the moment. It's a good thing. But every time I return to that book, I discover something new.

The Shakespeare class - is throwing me for a bit of a loop. I'm enjoying it - I'm thorughly glad I'm in it - I don't feel that I have a feel for it yet. Not the material itself, but the way I'm meant to fit into that class. Fortunately, I'm going to be able to do nothing but perform, if I so desire. Which I do desire, because I want to remember what it's like to be directed and to learn from that experience. I must keep that goal in front of me, though, in order to keep my equilibrium. The difficulty, though, is that I want to do more than is required at the moment - and I feel that I'm not coming off as well as I should like. My thoughts are very convoluted on this subject.

Trepidatious. That's what I feel. What I think is a mix and a muddle.

So, I'm thirty-one years old. How weird is that? Had a good birthday - lunch with friends, got a rose (!) and hostess cupcakes (lol), classes (in which, apparently, I was running a major fever, due to some sort of cold that's running around Massachusetts and which I didn't realize until about half-way through the Shakespeare class when I simply had to give up and admit to myself that I was burning up - boooo), and then home for dinner, cake and presents with the familia which was loverly. Low-key, but I liked that.

Dunno...c'est ca. Music runs through my brain. Need to buckle down on projects, now. Flying continues to be scary, even for Granny Weatherwax. Holding on tight to the shoulders of God, who apparently thinks doing a celestial polka is fun.

Mood: Mieux, merci
Music: Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog - although this is in lieu of listening to the R&J soundtrack since I've been keeping that on repeat in the car far too often lately.
Thought: However, this pretty much ensures that I'm never going to get Dr. Horrible out of my head and will be waking up to it playing in my mind for the next week or so!