This is what my weekend looked like.
On Friday I performed improv with my troupe, “First Friday Players” for our inaugural First Friday Improv show. We performed to a packed house and delivered a really solid show. I was very happy and proud.
On Saturday the cast and crew of ‘The Luxury of Suffering” generously gave up their Saturday evening to strike the lights from the last show in the theatre and to start the re-hanging of the lights for their show.
Sunday I spent about six hours with just mi hermano in the Empress plugging everything in, tying up cables and talking shop with the directors.
It feels both good and odd to be back in a theatre so much; good in that, put simply, I love theater and theatres. There’s a feeling I get when I walk onto a stage and it’s all empty and there’s no set or lights or sound besides the echoing of your feet on the wooden stage – I feel incredibly calm and excited all at once because there is such possibility in that moment. However, it’s odd to be back in a theatre so much because that used to be my life and it’s not what defines my life anymore. I used to define myself (almost solely) as a theatrical artist, when I was not working or in school I was in the theatre producing,directing and acting in multiple productions simultaneously.
A lot has changed in the last few years. I co-founded Revive the Red Tent and started creating theatrical opportunities for myself, on my time frame. Children and a home became greater financial incentives than the luxury of spending 50+ hours a week in the theatre. I met Maple and, for the first time, really wanted to spend a good chunk of time/energy/money creating a home with someone.
It felt odd to be back in the theatre, because, while I enjoyed being there, I felt oddly out of place with myself. What used to completely define me doesn’t anymore, and that’s a transition; one that’s happened gradually over the past few years. It did feel good to be back in the theatre though; to go back to one of my solid, grounding places, and know that I still belong there. I hope to have children in the next couple years, so this weekend was a good reminder to relish these quiet nights of creating art, as tedious as they might seem in the moment. I know I’ll be longing for them in wee hours of baby-screaming-AM that will (hopefully) be my future soon.
So while I long for children while I hang lights, I know I’ll long for quiet moments of art while I hold children. And both of those moments are (and will be) wonderful, and I belong (and will belong) completely in both.
Cheers and Love,
Maple and Me