Theater Reunion 2015

Tonight I took a little trip down memory lane with a few friends from my not-so-distant-in-my-mind past. You know how a song can throw you into a memory like nobody’s business? Well, imagine what an entire soundtrack performed live can do. That was tonight and it was emotional and electric for me.

Anyone who really knows me knows what an important part theater, more specifically, Stageside Desserts, played in my teenage years. It was a game changer for me. And being in a theater tonight, with a few of those who were a part of SD with me, made me realize how much I miss it. The stage. The lights. The energy. But more than any of that the people. There’s just something about theater people. If you don’t have a theater friend, you should definitely find one, because they are like crack. One hit and you’re hooked because theater people are amazing. They are alive and kicking.

The last time I was on stage was about 19 years ago in Charleston, South Carolina. I was M’Lynn in Steel Magnolias. It was my first non-musical and I loved it. I loved being someone else for a short time. I loved slipping away just a little bit, losing myself and exploring a life that wasn’t mine. I proved to myself that I could do it, that I didn’t need a song to express myself. I could memorize words, make them my own and make everyone else believe that I was that person. It was exhilarating.

If I could start over, I would pursue acting. I didn’t realize at the time that it was even an option, so instead, I chose written words. My stage is the blank page – my makeup adjectives and adverbs, my props words. And I love that. I love my words, always have, but I miss making my words jump from the page.

My word for the year is “adventure”, and after tonight I’m thinking maybe theater should be part of my year of adventure. Maybe it’s time to lose myself all over again, in order to find the part of me that has been missing for way too long.

 

Fondues and Ballet Shoes

 

circa 1977

 

At the beginning of the year I chose a word – a word that would set my intention for 2015. The word is adventure. For those of you who know me, most of my adventure comes in the form of trying out a new art supply or reading a new book. Exciting, right? Although I do enjoy both of those immensely, I wanted this year to include new adventures.

My first adventure was last night. It involved a small room, a bar, several young women in tights and loud music. Before you let your imagination run wild, I must confess that it was not some seedy club, but a dance studio and I was showing up willingly (what the what???) for an adult ballet class.

Anyone who knows me is probably thinking that I’ve gone mental. Michelle, the girl who tripped up the stairs Freshman year earning myself the nickname “Clumbo”? Michelle the girl who ran into a very large, very visible pole while looking at a puppy walking by? Michelle, the girl who quit dance at the age of 11 after only two weeks because of her lack of coordination, and inability to shuffle tap (or do anything else with) her left foot? Yep, that Michelle. That’s the one folks. Welcome to middle age and my new this-life’s-too-short-to-give-a-shit-how-foolish-I-look attitude!

So back to the class last night. The minute I walked in, I wanted to walk out. The front room was small and filled with moms of ballerinas and a couple of other ladies who were putting on their ballet shoes. I pressed my back up against the front window, trying to blend in – with the window, not the people. My heart was pounding to the beat of the music blaring from the studio down the hall. I knew no one. My friend who got me into this mess adventure, had an emergency health situation and wasn’t able to make it. I promised her I would go. So, despite my better judgment, I stayed.

I stayed and I danced. Well, I mean I tried. I was completely put-off by the mirrors lining the walls. Not only was I stumbling dancing, but I was forced to watch myself stumble dance. Not pretty. In fact, I had a hard time concentrating because I was too busy criticizing myself.

The instructor was very nice, but was all about total immersion. All of the women in the room had prior ballet experience, but me (aside from my two weeks of right-footed dancing when I was 11). So here I was attempting desperately to discern the difference between a fondue and a tendue and still “do” the step without falling behind. Oh boy. Every time the instructor said “fondue” I wanted to ask, “Where’s the cheese?!” Somehow I think my humor might have been missed.

But you know what? Despite being completely out of my comfort zone, I showed up, stayed and plied (I know there is an accent mark there but I can’t find out how to do it) with the rest of them. And I left there feeling proud of myself. If I bailed out on my first adventure in 2015 that would have set the stage for the rest of the year and I won’t stand for that. So, today I ordered a pair of black ballet shoes (vegan) and am actually, sort of, maybe a little bit, looking forward to next Monday when I will know that a fondue is called a fondue because like the food version, the step resembles a melting of sorts. Yep, I looked it up today!

So, I’m here to encourage you to step outside of your comfort zones, and find out what you are really capable of. It’s a small world and you are huge so stride it like a colossus bee-yatch!