TO BE IN AWE

Hi there. As my time in London (for now) comes to a close I am a little sad. I don’t really get to explore beyond my little trail to work and back, and there is so much London out there! I haven’t seen any friends, yet I am also surrounded by them; dancers, musicians, choreographers, production staff, actors and my core musical team. The story of Thelma and Louise is so excruciatingly relevant to this very second and so timeless also. Most days I cry at parts I have seen literally thousands of times over the last NINE years of working on it. That’s how good Callie Khouri’s writing is. It does not stale. Sadly, the attempted subjugation of women in our world doesn’t either…

The daily cry is also due to the aforementioned actors, musicians and dancers; much of the time, all three skills in one body. Their moves and actions and effort and emotion are a result of decades long commitment to something in a way indescribable with any sort of math. They are hearts that power larger hearts. They take our notes and instructions on a dime. They are tuned like beautiful old clocks. The things they have to remember and subtly tweak and execute over and over are herculean in number. They are surgeons of the soul; removing old dead pathways and the microscopic plaque of cynicism and self doubt. They show us in real time how we humans are capable of such gorgeousness and real goodness… They make us feel their actions in our bodies! When the dancers do something simple and flowing in front of me I feel the weight and counterweight shift within my body too and it is exquisite. I have never really been exposed to dance in my 54 years and I am ready to drink it all up greedily. What an absolute gift all these performers are. They are also true collaborators. I observe and interact with them as we go about our long work day. They are so kind and encouraging to each other and bring their best selves faithfully every day. The affection they have for each other as teammates brings a healthy calm to the entire room, even in our most intense moments. 

As I sat in Heathrow for hours I felt like a brand spanking new sponge fresh out of the crinkly package, ready to soak up all the colors and shapes and sounds around me. I looked about to see everyone on their phones; some smiling intimate smiles, some laughing, some in intensely bored comas, but very few people chatting to each other. Here were people from all over the world missing an opportunity to get to know each other a little. I decided to rebel. I stared at the woman across from me until she looked up. I smiled at her. She was a little taken aback but returned it. A little while later she asked me to keep an eye on her bags while she got up to go grab a napkin. Of course! We had a little beginning. Later when she left to go to her gate she thanked me and smiled. We had won! We were humans! I made a resolution to do this from now on. I fly a lot.

As I finish this I am back home in my own bed. I just wrestled my right arm back from my tiny cat Marcia, who insists on sleeping on it, though I can’t for the life of me see how this could be comfortable? I’m reminded of house sitting for my friends Dan and Danielle and their large dog, Claude insisting on sleeping across my sharp shins every night. Haha! Speaking of, Coco and her 75 pounds of love have my right leg also pinned to the bed. She is snoring to beat the band and I am happy for the pins and needles that are starting in my hip. 

This is how I’m starting my reentry. With amused gratitude. I refuse any other alternative. XO

What does the art of any performing discipline give you that words can’t quite describe?

The greatest piece of art I have ever purchased.