Late night musings

I have missed blogging so much, but obviously not enough to just sit down and do it.

I've been squeezing in voice overs when I have time between teaching and rehearsals.

So much is happening; my mind is processing it in abstract dreams each morning.

12 quick things before 11pm:

1. It snowed today after a great thaw

2. Weston can no longer lie down flat in the tub -- he's too long

3. Dave and I ate SO WELL all last week after buying incredible Italian food in Calgary

4. Morris fell and cut his brow and has a black eye and stitches, but says our show is in good shape

5. I get to wear burgundy in "A Bright Particular Star"

6. I'm out of time already!

7. I chatted with my brother for the first time on Facebook.

8. I bought a comb with a point at the end for parting my hair 1880's style -- I felt so old fashioned at Walmart

9. I'm glad Heidi is done with chemo

10. My hair is long

11. I'm mystified by what happening in Lybia, sad about Japan, and confused about the USA and Canada

12. I haven't been to the chiropractor in 3 months

I long to say more, for my sake and anyone taking the time to read, but I must rest.

I find myself in such an unusual place with this play... It pricks at my own issues and desires, but answers the questions differently than I. It challenges me to be humble, yet ready to fire on cue. I must be patient, standing side stage in corset, bustle, hoop skirt, petticoat, costume and uncomfortable boots... tuning, waiting, listening for the music to enter, and then delivering my slice of the story.

I still wrestle with it so much in my heart. Much is not ready to say to those involved... but quietly wait.

I feel like Sophia in Uncle Vanya "We must wait, Uncle. We must wait."

It is a strange sensation to have vast ideas and ambition, but to be captive to a story where I am not the center.

I am trying to let go of urgent business to attend to the project at hand, but I wander.

Here's to enduring focus.

And rest.

Good night.