sometimes you round a corner...

...and find a great big piece of your SELF.

That there is one of mine:). My "pieces," I mean. Created by a New Orleans artist who goes by the name Ersy.

This is why I explore. It's why I visit galleries and museums, read books, see plays. I am looking for that thing -- moment, phrase, photo, painting, brushstroke -- that stops me in my tracks. Arrests my body and mind and makes me feel RIGHT NOW. What happens in that moment is that I have identified with something on a level I cannot immediately comprehend, if ever. The best way I can describe it is that I have found a piece of me.

My literary boyfriend, Proust (hehe), said that the only worthy journey in this world is the journey into the Self. I believe that constantly delving deeper into our Selves is how we find more and more Others. The journey of Self begins in narrow spelunking but quickly broadens into a veritable space odyssey.

..so to speak...<blush>

Hey, I'd love to see some works of art or nature that have surprised YOU.

convergences

Exhibit A: Yours truly getting ready to do some Shakespeare at the Dixie Carter Center, fall 2006.

Exhibit B: Same gal, now a married lady and travelin' from DC instead of Nashville, getting ready to do some children's theatre at the Dixie Carter Center, fall 2011.

*****

It is pretty typical for an actor to work in the same theatre over & over, or even to tour to the same venues. But I have to pause for a moment and give this week's juxtapositions their due.

The above photos were taken from a theatre in a town of about 4,000 people (2010 census said 4,074). There is a little cafe across the street from the backstage entrance. I walked in and the woman behind the counter said, "You've been here before." And there it was, my tiny face in a cast photo on the wall by the entrance. The 2006 Shakespeare gang had such a lovely experience in this small-town cafe that we posed for a photo with the owners' 4-year-old niece (who had watched and loved our Macbeth!). Here I was, 5 years later, with a new cast and a show that is actually aimed at 4-year-olds:).

All this, mind you, happened after a weekend spent in Nashville, my former hometown. We performed in the very theatre that gave me my equity card in 2005--a theatre that has never before hosted another company's production. We were only there because another venue had canceled (times are tough right now, and many theatres are only able to present our show because of local, corporate and/or private funding. It is remarkable how many children get to see our show for free or for very little money, thanks to the generosity of companies and individuals. These are children who may never have been exposed to a live show otherwise. It adds a whole new dimension to their imaginations). Our people called their people, so to speak, to ask for suggestions of theatres that might adopt our sweet show for a day or two. They happened to just be closing a show then. In an unprecedented move, my old children's theatre home gave my new children's theatre show a brief-&-beautiful home.

To perform for children and families is a special joy. I feel like my job is simply to give young people and their grownups a pure experience. Our show employs some neat new tricks, but all in the name of carrying on an old tradition. We are sharing a story. People are gathering, around a stage as around a fire, to receive a story.

To perform for children and families that you know? That is a gift. Many of my Nashville friends saw the show by themselves or with each other--many don't even have children. But they are part of a larger family. It is what I love about Nashville theatre. So just a few days ago, I got to perform for my Nashville family--people who helped me become who I am right now. Actors and theatre-makers and artists whose love of their work, their audience, their town illuminated a whole new path for me. Before Nashville, I didn't know you could be a theatre actor with a house and a yard! I didn't think about the place children's theatre might have in my career. I didn't know you could be such good friends with your "competition" :). And I didn't know the man I would come to marry.

I could go on & on. Suffice it to say, the path of my national tour just aligned with my personal trajectory in a profound way. This blog post is a clumsy ode to happy convergences.

the art of family

I just finished a phone interview with a theatre critic/lovely human I know. He wanted to do a piece on my touring show, which will be stopping in his (and my old) hometown. He knew that I had spent the last few days with my dad, who lives near-ish to our current tour stop. After his questions, the interviewer mentioned how great it was that I got to see my pa. He said that -- even though he was sure I knew it, he wanted to give voice to it -- as we get older, we realize how important it is to spend time with our families. Whenever and wherever and however we can.

Between this tour and the last, I have gotten to see my family more than anytime in the last decade, I believe. This is especially fitting since the play I am in is one big celebration of FAMILY! And one of the very very best things about this gig is watching families experience the show together.

In a recent show, I caught sight of a little girl on her daddy's lap. During the ballad that the father character sings to his daughter, the real dad in front of me squeezed his little girl and made her grin with a big ole kiss on the cheek.

Our remarkable sound guy does his job right in the midst of the audience, and he loved the first time he noticed a mom holding her kiddo on her lap, who was holding a stuffed lovey in *his* lap! (Every buddy holds a buddy!)

On the last tour, I got to perform on the very stage that opened my teenage mind years ago when my dad took me and a dear friend (now deceased) to see "The Mikado." (Friends, you know, can be family, too.)

A woman once told me that during one of our performances, she saw her little girl laugh in a new way. It was the first time she had ever seen her full-on belly laugh, as in grabbing-her-stomach-and-bending-forward-to-laugh!

More than one new dad has sought us out after a show to say, "That was my life! That's what it's like! THANK YOU!"

To put a twist on the theme, I have had to be parted from one family (my new, loving husband) to bring this family-fest to others. Relationships from the road are probably as varied as tours themselves. My hubby and I have a book (anyone familiar with the McSweeney's furry journal?) that we pass back and forth. We text little thoughts and photos to each other throughout each day. He made me a CD with tracks of music interspersed with tracks of him speaking; I hid little notes for him throughout the house before I left. We both have a copy of the same photo of us that we set up in each theatre dressing room we occupy. It is difficult to be away from his physical presence. I miss hugs, and morning coffee together. But it has also been kindof fun to find creative ways to be part of each other's day from afar, and it has been nice to be missed, and to feel the pang of missing someone but knowing it's a finite absence.

You can celebrate the family in front of you as well as the one that is a phone call away.

Or the one that is a world away, for that matter. My grandma would've gotten a kick-and-a-half outta seeing me play a toddler (at 30+ :).



...I mean 20+...<cough>

topsy tour-vy

...did I mention I love puns? :)

I am officially on tour again. Tours come in many shapes and sizes. Mine looks like this: there are 5 actors, and 4 crew members. We travel in a van (7 of us, plus modest luggage) and a 26 ft moving truck (2 of us, plus all the set and costume pieces & props). We take turns driving a few hours at a time. We spend every night in a hotel -- we only drive during the day -- and when we reach a city where we'll perform, we set up camp for anywhere from a single day to a whole week. Some venues have 1 show booked for us, some have 7 shows booked, and the audiences range from 200 to 3,000 at a time! (Most places last tour fell in around the 800-1,000 kid mark). Let me tell ya, it is quite an experience, hearing the shrieks, gasps and cheers of a thousand kindergarteners:). With any show, the audience is the final piece involved in making a complete work of art or entertainment. With a lively show for tots, that feels especially true. These moments we worked so hard to create in the rehearsal room are all for them. There are jokes in this show that adults will enjoy and smile at, but kids? Especially kids with their peers? They will laugh their heads off. It's so much fun to witness.

Being an actor on this tour, you get a lot of free time. I tend to use it exploring each new city (with a camera-phone, a sketchpad and sometimes the scrawled directions to a local indy bookstore, coffee shop or comicbook store), reading, and watching too much "Law & Order" <blush>. Yesterday, I visited the beach and grabbed dinner with some of my cohorts. But I will be on tour for 2 1/2 months. There's bound to be quite a lot of unproductive time in there.... To combat this, I trolled the internet (and my brain) for great artistic to-dos. 

Ahem!

You could...share your thoughts on the books you read. Enjoy a hilarious monologue from time to time. Listen to some fantastic storytelling. Marvel at what is being done on faraway stages. Tap into the other bits of your creativity. Write a novel. Ogle bookshelves (C'mon! After writing a novel, you have earned the right to ogle some bookshelves) or laugh at bunnies (ditto).

I look forward to continued blogging from the road! I consider that a pretty great artistic to-do as well.