Thursday, April 21, 2011

Out of the Woods

The show is done. My legs are very bruised and scraped and I feel like I was hit by a truck. Our last performance was on Monday morning to a group of 700 school children. We only performed the first act. Afterward there was a Q & A and the only question that was asked of me specifically was "how did you make yourself look pregnant?" Other kids wanted to know how makeup changes happened so quickly and why Cinderella was so pretty (awww...) and was it fun for the Baker to stab the wolf.

That was the hardest role I have ever played. By far. And this particular production had many crazy things happening behind the scenes that made it even harder on me. I don't think I ever want to play the Baker's Wife again. But I still would love to play any other role in some other production of Into the Woods sometime.

I had a dream last night that I got to play Christine Daae in Copperstar's production of The Phantom of the Opera. I was so happy to play a role I have wanted all my life, but they kept changing cast members in the middle of the production and nobody knew what was going on, and they cut the Phantom of the Opera song from the show, and at the end of the first act I looked up and the phantom was being played by an un-costumed woman with a script in her hand. I quit at intermission. Nobody seemed to care, and my friend Anna (who was watching the show and has an amazing voice in real life) stepped in to do my part. I was seething mad, and everything seemed so unfair. And then I woke up.

Monday, April 11, 2011

Morning Story... from two days ago

She awoke to the boy's excited voice. "Mom! Dad! It's raining! Should we go downstairs and watch the flowers grow?" Neither Mom nor Dad moved for a few minutes, so he continued his happy exclamations and expectant questions, running from one side of bed to the other. Mom caved first and began to rise. The boy was ecstatic as he took her hand. They could hear the baby singing quiet nonsense from her room, and they made a detour to collect her. Little Dolly was happy to see her mother and brother, and she joyously held out the hand that was not holding tight to her pink silky blanket.

Sleep still clung to Mom, but she slowly plunked down the stairs and to the back sliding glass door where the boy had run. He pulled the sheer curtains aside and Mom sat down with the baby and her blanket. They all took a quiet moment to look out at the soggy weed-choked back yard. Mom loved the rain, even more so now that they lived in the desert. "Look Mom," said the boy. "The rain is making bubbles." She supposed the water dropping into puddles did look bubbly. The baby settled down further into Mom's lap. "Should we hear it?" inquired the boy. Mom smiled and nodded. When the boy opened the sliding glass door a wash of cold air confronted them, and the musical cadence of the dripping became louder and more beautiful.

Later there would be bottles and breakfast and diapers and books. Little Dolly would give up her blanket until nap time and she would do that silly walk on her knees. Brother would play little games with rocks and sticks and cars and hats. But for now, they all sat and enjoyed one another's presence and the miracle of rain falling from God's great heaven.