End of one play.... beginnings of a new.

My black eye made for pretty good eye shadow in this first pic.  This is Dorcas, Kelly and I under the choir waiting for the show to start.  Next the boys and I wait in the same place with Barrett before the "Evening of Healing."
Sunday was our last show of the Passion Play.

It went well, as did most of our performances.  The weather really cooperated.  God should get a credit in the program for lighting designer.  There was some serendipitous cloud coverage.

The boys were pretty worn out in the end, but they stuck it out and added a lot of cute factor to the show.

They mostly enjoyed doing what they do at home when they can't be on the computer: playing in the dirt!

I was often struck with beautiful moments in the story.  With the badland hills as backdrop, some things really become magical.  I love all the uses of the ridgelines.

But I too, was weary, and I struggled with the chatty crowd backstage when the show was going on.  I'm not sure I have enough grace to put myself in that situation real soon again.  What really broke me was the couple shows I came down with the cast in a sort of receiving line at the end in front of the set.  A number of people came up and wanted to shake hands with all of us and thank us.  I met eye after eye, shook hand after hand, and I nearly wept.  I was so unique; I was connecting briefly with probably 60 or so humans... created and loved and died for.  I was more impacted by this tangible reality than the story I knew so well.  Or rather, I was easily with my feelings BECAUSE of the story we had just told.  When do you sit with 2,000 plus people outside and quietly observe the same thing?  I was humbled.

Thankfully, Dave came at the end of the day and helped us return our costumes and say our farewells.  In the midst of hugs goodbye and the trekking audience, we lost Weston.  Even Donovan wasn't sure where he'd seen him last.  Suddenly all my peace turned to fear and doubt.  Was he stolen?  No one could find him.  We started double checking places, hiding places, bathrooms... the stage managers got on headset.  No one could locate him.  10 minutes later, Karl Sine brought up a quivering little apricot Gentile from the parking lot!  He had seen Weston looking for our car as though we had already left.  Whew!

Now it is Wednesday and I am printing out my play for a read-through with friends before I turn in my first draft to Morris August first.  The boys just got out of their second bath today, (too many mud pies) and I hope my play copies OK down on the resource room copier.  The other good one is shot from the lightining bolt.  I'm so nervous.  It's vulnerable sharing this project that is not quite ready...--Ugh.  It's like opening night or auditions.  Yuck.  Oh please, oh please may we have enough ink to print the master copy.  I'm doing it in gray just in case.  -22 pages left.  

Deep breath.

...Now, back to those whippersnappers.  

Is it hot, or is it just me?