Good Luck, Old Chum. Good Health. Goodbye.

It's closing night of My Fair Lady. I'm starting my journey for this show backwards. It's harder and easier to do it this way. I lose some perspective, but the nostalgia that I'm already feeling keeps the pain of a show ending at bay. A little.
I didn't get the part I wanted. I felt cheated. It wasn't until we started running the show that I realized my director, Adam, who's also a dear friend, was letting me on stage A LOT. More than anyone but the Big Leads. And I got to play both Cockney and Proper. And I got to dance in all the big, cool numbers.
I started feeling grateful for this about a month ago.
Lesson one - don't feel cheated until you get the full story.
Lesson two - trust your director. I learned this lesson several times. It wasn't easy, which is why I must have needed to learn it a few times.
This was the second show I did with my family - my husband, Craig, and son, Caden. It was a mixed blessing, too. But as the show closes, the wonder of this blessing far outweighs what was tough, namely Craig being late often, missing a few times, and so loopy we didn't get to waltz in the big waltz number. And Caden having misgivings because he was missing Scout camp. They all trickle into minor annoyances as I feel full of Mrs. Hopkins and all she went through. And Lady Boxington and all she taught me.
Those were my two parts. Mrs. Hopkins - a desperate woman, afraid to raise her daughter (my new friend Amanda) on her own so she pursues Alfie (played by Ray - a new, dear friend), who is already involved with someone else. Mrs. Hopkins gave me my only scripted dialogue in the show. She made me lots of friends, was my first slightly sexy part, and because of her, I got to dance in the high stepping, fun Cockney dances, "Get Me to the Church On Time" and "With a Little Bit of Luck."

Lady Boxington is married to my real-life husband, Craig, who played Lord Boxington. It is a surreal kind of life where I can lay in bed and talk character development about a community theater show with my husband. Okay, it's awesome. With Craig I got to be in the "Ascot Gavotte" number, the black and white costume song and dance that pretty much defines My Fair Lady. I felt gorgeous, proper, and had so much fun with her. The scene where Eliza (Shannon - whom I adore) flips out and screams, "Move your bloomin' arse!" was way too much fun. Lady Boxington was scandalized. I was delighted. Corena played our daughter Ella Boxington. In real life I have no daughters. In My Fair Lady, I had two! I also acquired an amazing sister, Larisa. Truly amazing.

Old friends and new shared this special experience. I will blog on this in the next few days. For now, I am tired, need to cry a little, and let my feet heal until tomorrow.

Keep Playing! Even when you know closing night breaks off a little piece of your heart!

Bloody Live Theater

I am in two shows right now. One, My Fair Lady, though it doesn't actually have the word bloody has more of a likely tone to it for that word. But when I say bloody in the title of this blog, I don't mean the swear word in the land of the Britons. I mean blood. Actual blood.

It went like this. I was in a scene in the other show I'm in, A Roof Overhead. Somehow I stabbed my chin with my thumbnail. My chin hurt a little and I put my hand on it. I took it back and there was blood all over my hand. I looked at Randy King, who plays my husband Max and said, "I'm bleeding." I'd like to think I was in character. My daughter Naomi, played by Penny Pendleton, was supposed to come onstage. I yelled, "Naomi, will you bring me some Kleenex? I'm bleeding."

I don't really remember all that happened, but interspersed in the discussion of my bleeding, which seemed to stubbornly go on and on, in spite of me pressing paper towels, dry and wet, onto the wound, and me holding a piece of the paper on the wound for a while, we did get through the scene. But it went like this:

• play dialogue
• comment about bleeding, by me or someone else(?)
• play dialogue
• Penny putting water on a piece of paper towel and dabbing my chin
• play dialogue
• me making a comment about how I was still bleeding
• me looking at my hands and seeing they were pretty much covered in blood
• play dialogue, which was a rather intense scene where I get mad at Max, all the while holding the paper towel to my chin, impeding any natural-looking movement as I storm around the stage
• play dialogue
• stage kiss

 As I came offstage, I was swooped upon by the stage manager Cameron (bless him) who was ready with some kind of swab. The man who is in charge of tech (bless him, too) had a first aid kit and supplied me with a little round band-aid. As I took the paper towel off, I noticed that #1 the wound was an actual cut, north to south on my chin, and #2 for some reason it was also a big round wound the size of a quarter. How did this happen? I don't recall ever cutting my face with a nail, and certainly not the stubbiest thumb nail a person could have.

I admit, the next few scenes, I wanted to keep touching the band-aid. It took a certain amount of concentration to leave it alone.

I was so overwhelmed with the ickiness of this whole thing, I kept talking about it backstage with anyone who'd listen. I apologized over and over. I probably sounded like a prima donna (one of my big fears--that I'll sound like one, or actually BE one) but I was, I admit, pretty freaked out. I worried that I'd still have that stupid band aid on at the end of the play, which is supposed to be about 18+ months later.

The two things I worried about most did not happen, and for this I am grateful. One was that the bloody (pun!) thing wouldn't ever stop bleeding, but by intermission, it was in remission and I patted some powder on it and you couldn't even see it. (I was a little freaked that I'd put powder on and it would bleed again and made some kind of icky mud made from blood and powder. Is this too graphic? Too bad. It's my blog.) The other thing I worried about was that we actors all would be overwhelmed with the possible comedy of this and remark about it throughout the play. Thankfully, that didn't happen.

Backstage I texted a few friends and took a photo of me with the lovely band-aid on my chin. That's one photo I need to definitely put in my portfolio. Not!

My friend Cynthia came to the show and told me later that she was at first a little surprised by it all and wondered if this happened every night. She asked me, "You don't bleed every night, do you?" This leads me to believe that somehow, we carried off this rather unfortunate problem with some semblance of believability. I also am profoundly grateful that I have become friends with Penny enough that we really could be mother and daughter and it was very normal to have her doctoring me onstage. I didn't feel awkward. Well, not awkward about her fixing my chin anyway.

I had made a vow of no more ad libbing. Then I had a bloody disaster. How can you have something like this happen and not just deal with it? Answer: ad lib all over the bloody place.

Question: Should I wear gloves onstage tomorrow? I have a matinee and and evening performance! I don't have that much chin left!



Keep Playing! And keep a first aid kit handy!

"A Roof Overhead" musings

The run for my show isn't over yet, but the lessons I've learned are piling at my feet, so I'm writing now.
I was asked to be in a show--I didn't have to audition. The play was written by someone who has some notoriety in Utah, so I accepted the part.
I was still in another play, a madcap comedy that was a true delight. "A Roof Overhead" (ARO) can only be described as a tragedy in the most Shakespearean sense. So I was in both ends of the spectrum for a while.
"Backstage" ended, and I mourned its loss. At the same time, I started a new job, so went straight from the new job to rehearsals for ARO. I got home around 10:30. This is when the anxiety began.
My son recorded my lines, and this saved me. I've never had so many lines to learn.
The show has had three performances. I have received very complimentary reviews for my performance, which includes sobbing through the last two scenes. It is hard. Very hard. I go home weak, spent, and fragile.
Lessons I've learned:
1. I am much happier as a comedic actress.
2. I am not nor will I ever be one of the cool kids.
3. Good directors give you help with character development, as my director has done with this show.
4. God must want me to truly understand 59-year-old men with ADD, as my director/husband in the show and my husband in real life are just this. What I'm supposed to be learning about this, I have no idea. And I wish to heck I'd hurry up and learn it. Just sayin'.
5. I can cry on demand when it deals with the death of a child. RIP Nathan Phillip Kelly
6. My friend/director Adam C. is a lifesaver.
7. I am not concerned when I know there is a reviewer at the show. (This is a good thing to find out.)
8. There has been a point in this process where I truly had to turn it over to the Drama gods and do my best and let the rest go. This has been very difficult.
9. Sadly, my abandonment issues have run into my involvement with this play in a way I never thought I'd experience. More personal development work. (sigh)
10. I like having the lead.

There are more lessons learned, but those are for another time, and some may be only spoken to dear friends and not written in a blog. I learned my lesson about blogs that are read by people who shouldn't read them. Or in other words, blogs that I shouldn't actually publish!

As I approach the last three performances, I can say that this has been a strong, valuable experience. My director asked me the other night if I was having fun. The answer is no. I realize that not all plays will be fun. But I told him what I've been doing in this play has been important. I like that word: important. I'm going to be okay with that.

Keep Playing! Always...

"Backstage" Closing

I became a comedic actress in my last show. I was given the opportunity to ad lib at will, playing against the director of the show who also played David the Director in the show. He and I played so well together, that even though I'm already in rehearsal for another show, I'm feeling lost. It wasn't even just the character I played. It wasn't even just the great cast I worked with. It was who I got to be as a performer that I miss. I'm afraid I won't be able to be her again.
I'm feeling panicked.
There's talk we'll do this show every year. I hope this is true.

Keep Playing! And Laughing!

In One Year

Last year, on a whim, I decided to audition for "Hairspray." A lark. It was community theater, so I knew I'd be in the show.
But thanks be to Adam Cannon, who gave someone totally unknown to him a chance, I got a part.
Since then, I have been in shows almost constantly.
Today, a well-known playwright, Mahonri Stewart, recommended me to the director who's doing his current show to give me a part.
I am pretty darn flabbergasted.
For so many years, I have felt too old, too fat, too worn out to do theater. It turns out, I was just waiting for the right time.
Tonight's rehearsal went great. The cast members seem neat. I've already found at least one Democrat in the group. I'm going to be kissing a man who isn't my husband. Something I haven't done since I said "I do" to Craig over 17 years ago.
I will be doing theater nonstop pretty much until the end of July. And then? Who knows?
Feeling blessed.
And props to my dude of over 17 years who never even questioned if he'd be cool with this latest venture. He told me that of course I should do the show.
Gosh.
Keep Playing! You know I will!

Backstage--Hell Week and Opening Weekend

My new show is going well. To be able to type this is such a joy. Last week at this time, I had little hope. Our dress rehearsal was horrible. I wanted to not even open the show as planned.
Then, a bunch of people showed up for opening night! We were clunky and my husband--love you, Craig--was still not memorized. More on this later. But we got through the performance. Lots of laughs, energy--an excellent beginning.
The next night was misery, literally. One of our actors hurt his eye at work the night before and was blinking, crying, squinting, and grimacing the entire performance. In front of a grand audience of eight people. Oy. We all suffered.
However, Monday's performance, attended by a busload of attentive, ready for fun seniors, was a blast! I am looking forward to tomorrow's show.
So far, here's what I have loved about this show:

• An excellent director. Not only is he great in the part of director in the show (the play is about a play within a play) but he is a giving, encouraging, willing to let us try stuff director. 
• NO PRIMA DONNAS.
• Making new friends. 
• I love my character Connie. She is the assistant director who is bubbly, on top of things, everyone's friend. She knows she is competent. Until she is thrown onstage at the last minute. Then, Connie is a mess. I love the contrast.
• One of the seniors the other night said to me, "You are so good. You are a natural." Gosh! How cool is that?
• I love being a lead--an honest to goodness lead.

The tougher aspects of this show:

• Craig isn't memorized. He procrastinated and it was horrible knowing he would choke.
• He has the best lines, and to see HIM not be able to get those laughs, and let the other cast members down has sucked.
• I missed being Caden's mom during Hell Week. 
• My dogs missed me spending time with them. It isn't just the play. The crappy weather and my total devotion to Just Dance 3 are also reasons why I don't go running with my dogs lately.
• I wish the theater was in better shape. 

Far more positive than negative and some of those negatives are past or will be soon. All in all, a great experience so far!

KEEP PLAYING!

A Theater Week

Wow, I'm laggin' on the bloggin'.

First, my first real rehearsal for "Backstage" at the Valley Center Playhouse. It was a success! I love my character, Connie, the brown-nosing, eager to please assistant director. I get to be obnoxiously upbeat, remarkably anxious (when she has to go onstage at the last minute), and fumbly and bumbly. I like her.
My husband plays the part of an over-acting butler. Craig will be hilarious. Who knew he could really sparkle onstage? Also a nod to our director, Tyler Renstrom. He is so good!

Went to see my friend Adam Cannon's show on Friday and reviewed it for UTBA. Though I had vowed never to review a show where I knew anyone I still wanted to be friends with after the review published, thank the Lord the show was good. The best part of the show was Adam's directing, but I could be biased. I don't think it was a particularly tough show to direct, and it looked like it had a group of actors who were sincere, talented, and fun. Nevertheless, it was seamless, so there you go.

I went to the UTBA dinner on Saturday. It was delicious, but we got lost on the way and I started getting pretty freaked out. I sat with Russell, who I've met in emails and what a delight he was. The meeting was more businessy than I had expected, with lots of networking, and discussion about the new website that is being launched and a fun sister project UTBA is embarking on. It was really cool. It also didn't snow for the drive, so I'm saying the night was a total success.

I am getting comfortable with telling people I'm an actress. I used to think that to say that I had to be a gorgeous, perfect hair and body, young starlet. It is turning out that isn't true.

I am now madly learning my lines. Need to be memorized by Wednesday!

I like this part of my life, though I still feel guilty that I left behind my writing career for a while.
To everything there is a season...

Keep playing! There's so much to play with!