Tech Day 2:

Sitting in the house, gazing at the gorgeous set;
The actors hit their marks.
Two weeks of rehearsal manifesting on on stage;
The orchestra plays, the lights cross fade, and the crew is calling the shots.
I love theater.

Leftovers:

Salty childhood memories;
Another day of debauchery.
Stuffing my face; literally.

Tradition:

Lounging with our lattes watching Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade;
The Broadway sampling, like a box of Sees Candy, you get a delicious taste of what’s new in musical theater.
The marching bands, the floating stages filled with B-listers, the flying cartoon balloons all strolling down the street.
The famous people sharing their gratitude; it’s never for their fifteen minutes.
Finally, the eye-high kicking Radio City Rockettes––so many friends we know!
I did that. I was there once, too!
I’m grateful for a lifetime of creative adventures shared with family and friends.

Water Under the Bridge:

Moves fast;
But always passes over the same rocky bottom.

Save The Theatrics:

I’m working to distance myself emotionally from a reaction from one negative entity in an otherwise positive experience.
The creative process can often be intense, raw, and overwhelming;
I refuse to be caught up in drama––as a director and choreographer––I prefer the theatrics to unfold on stage, not the rehearsal process.

Sunny Days:

Remind me that I can let go of the dark, grey, rainy, emotions that twist in my mind.
The bitter chill of my response;
Melted by the warmth of a new day.
Another storm passes.

Transition:

I felt the shift long after the transformation had begun;
Transitions are like that.

Run Through:

We’ve spent the past two weeks exploring.
Setting blocking; choreographing production numbers; exploring characters; signing off on: sets, costumes, props; and collaborating with the talented artists of the Penobscot Theater Company.
Now it’s time to run the show and see where we’re at before we move into the theater for tech.
I love my job!

Meditation:

Giving my mind a break;
Noise in the media––Tweets are loud.
Eyes closed, I breathe deep and release a sigh.
Fresh energy fills my body;
I am present.

In Lieu Of Yoga:

I am spending my fifth day fixed on my television set;
I’m an addict and can’t get enough of the impeachment hearings;
If this persists, I’m going to need a THINervention.

The Tickle:

It starts in the back of my throat and creeps up to my nose;
I pop Zinc and endure a spicy shot of oregano oil;
The goal is to catch it before the tickle wiggles around and becomes a nasty cough––if that happens I know I’m screwed.
I hate colds!

Glued:

To the television set with a box of popcorn like it’s a Summer Tentpole Franchise Film.
The impeachment hearings are in full swing and just like a Hollywood blockbuster, the opening statements deliver an action sequence loaded with scandal, betrayal, and outright lies.
I sit in awe of how anyone who fashions themselves a patriot could listen to the continuous testimony of nonpartisan, decorated diplomats revealing the lies and corruption involving our president and his interaction with known adversaries, and continue to support him.

Day Off:

Massage;
Laundry;
Movie;
Dinner.

Easing Into My Sunday:

With a pot of coffee,
My journal,
and a cozy corner on the sundrenched couch.

A Four Whiskey Evening Equals:

One Massive Headache;
And (yet another) reminder that I am NOT twenty-five.

Glued:

To the television:
I sit in complete shock listening to the testimony of a former awarded nonpartisan, United States Ambassador, who served for over thirty years under both Republican and Democratic Presidents, revealing disturbing information that our State Department was afraid to exonerate her because of the (possible) repercussions from our president and his Twitter finger.
Meanwhile, our president is live Tweeting––like a guilty second grader––threats against her for testifying the truth.

Work, Work, Work:

When you wake up to an inbox full of questions;
You pour yourself a massive bowl of coffee, turn off the ringer on your phone, and dive in!
One at a time I answer an endless storm of questions––all of which have previously been asked and answered––but when you’re away from your crew the second guessing begins.
Sometimes the work is not letting the work get to you!

Sunny Snow:

Mounds of powdery white clouds atop silhouettes of automobiles;
East coast mountain ranges on city streets.
The sun shines down capturing glittery, glistening diamonds.
How could something so beautiful be so hideous to walk in?
#WinterWonderland

Revelation:

As I approach our second week of rehearsal for “Matilda” at the Penobscot Theater, I recognize a noticeable absence of something:
Stress.
Where once there might have been an overwhelming energy, I now feel a tremendous joy.
In large, part I have to recognize the talent and professionalism of our cast.  It helps to have a group of artists who understands the work at hand and is capable of the daunting scope of the production.
I identified something else, too; the confidence of my journey.
After years of working as a performer, my transition into directing and choreographing made sense. I was able to articulate intention and emotion based on what worked––or didn’t work––for me in past productions.
This obvious sign was unspoken, but stirring inside me on my creative path; but it was only when I was ready to step back and trust, that I surrendered to the idea fully.
During our evolution in life, we hear time and again a version of, “It will happen when you’re ready.”
We roll our eyes and think, “Ya, ya. . . I’m ready!”
Sometimes we’re thrust into things that we’re not ready for and we rise to the occasion; often we’re pushed into something and we fall––in both cases we accept what worked and what did not.
Then, there are those golden moments when we accept the opportunity with pure excitement––our preparation and enthusiasm create our destiny.

Day Off:

I fully intended to sleep in;
Lily, our Shih-Tzu had other plans.
Once my face was fully covered in gentle Lily licks, I rolled out of bed and enjoyed a lazy day in the house.
It’s always strange to have a day off, while on tour. It’s not like you can call up your friends and grab brunch, and as much as I love an adventure, we didn't have the energy to explore Maine in the snow.
So what do you do when you need a little excitement on a snowy day away?
A trip to Target; naturally!

Fashion Emergency:

I’ve now reached the point, where I’ve worn everything in my travel wardrobe to rehearsal.
Life on tour means letting go of vanity;
While embracing the repurposing of fashion!

Saturday in the Theater:

Surrounded by sets and props;
My imagination stirs.
Actors running lines;
Dancers stretching;
Stage management scrambling to make the director’s last minute demands manifest.
Vocal warm-up begins;
On with the show!

Winter Wonderland:

The fluffy, flurries, floating through the air;
I went to bed in the fall and woke up to winter.
Maine, golden, rusty leaves covered in glistening powder.

Just Keep Swimming:

Never discount the truth in an animated story.

The Second Day:

Like your first kiss, first heartbreak, or first major loss, the first rehearsal can be exhilarating and simultaneously nauseating;
Overcoming the fear of the unknown and releasing preconceived expectations can be daunting.
Once the process begins, the anticipation gives way to an adrenaline filled furry of learning music, lines, blocking and choreography;
Pulling off the Band-Aid and jumping into the work head first!
Our cast is brilliant!  Now, we ease into the process with creative joy and imagination.

Living A Dream:

The majority of my life has been consumed with manifesting dreams.

Constantly seeking excellence;

Endlessly striving for the next opportunity;

Eagerly awaiting that childhood fantasy.

Then, a flash of acceptance:

Tenacity, goals, ambitions, setbacks, and victories are the dream;

The big payday is learning to live in that truth.

And We're Off:

Bags packed and prepped by the front door;

Curbside check-in;

TSA Pre-Check;

The creative journey begins.

After years of touring as a performer, and then as a choreographer and educator, I’m delighted to achieve new heights;

New demands as a directing and choreographing team; together with Jeff—we will face bullies—and rebel!

Matilda, here we come.

Next Step, Matilda!

Our bags are packed and the house is clean;
The time approaches, we head to Maine.
A lifetime of setting goals, relentlessly working toward our dreams, and saying yes to every opportunity that presented itself, manifests into a brilliant new creative endeavor.
Every opportunity leads to another magnificent adventure!

Saturday Sweep:

A layer of dust overnight;
The floors are covered in wool from the lush area rugs that protect the hardwood.
A sticky stove from too many meals shared with friends.
The bathroom is always my least favorite to clean.
Our Saturday is spent rejuvenating our beautiful home.
Just in time to leave town for a month. . .
Isn’t it always more pleasant returning to a clean house?

Candy Coma:

I eat Snickers Bars once a year during the week of Halloween;
My face stuffed full of nougat and nuts.
As the caramel drips out of the sides of my mouth, I quickly unwrap and reload.
The shear satisfaction of devouring the mouthwatering candy brings me back to my days in grade school:
When my waistline was the same measurement as my height;
An image that reminds me come November 1st, the Halloween treats end. . .
And so does my candy coma!