This is not the post I wanted to be writing at the beginning of the year. I wanted to start the new year filled with hope and the promise of better things to come. I had started looking forward to possibly writing a book and perhaps performing again. I was starting to feel the bubbles
Several friends have likened the process of grieving to surfing. I understand the analogy. At times the waters are relatively calm and we can ride along. At other times, we are buffeted by tsunamis that threaten to drag us under. Yesterday, I discovered a third way – diving into the wave. For as long
Amateur! Amateur performance! That is the latest face of my fear. Of course, no surprise. After any big success old voices and new come slithering to the surface to drag me under. I have just finished callbacks and cast four wonderful actresses. I feel like one big happy family and we haven’t even started rehearsals yet.
How tempting it was that day to simply curl up and plead illness, cancel the appointment at the theater. My anxiety over this production had literally made me sick to my stomach. But somehow my desire to birth this performance piece was greater than my fears and so I dragged myself, tired and nauseous, to