Yesterday, I went to the first rehearsal for a short piece I’m in for the upcoming benefit at Dobama Theater. I was very flattered to be asked to be in this piece, which includes friends of mine who are great actors and a great writer-director. I’ve never done anything at Dobama before so that’s exciting. It’s so interesting to me, how “this thing of ours” intersects with my life and has brought me so much. This past weekend, I went with another talented, beautiful performer friend to see a grand and gory rock musical, Titus, at CPT. We saw some other creative types we know there, and enjoyed chatting with them about their various projects at preshow and intermission. As the show was about to begin, I was struck at how exciting it still is for me, to be able to go and see live theater, something I never experienced growing up. The buzz of the crowd beforehand, leafing through the program, taking in the set and the lighting choices. The quiet when the house lights go down and the performance begins, I’m almost on the edge of my seat, I enjoy it so. I sometimes can’t believe I am even a tertiary part of this great world, and rehearsals like last night’s make me really use my brain in a way nothing else I do uses it, and it makes me feel alive. My brain was buzzing all night last night and I couldn’t sleep but a handful of hours – with thoughts about rehearsal, about a piece I’m writing, about when I can take my son to see his next play. Small performances like this are about all I have time for anymore, but thankfully I am asked to participate in them often enough that I work a few times a year in this weird, wonderful world of theater.
I had a great solo dinner before rehearsal, leisurely enjoying a single glass of a foreign-made wine which I couldn’t pronounce, my palate in delight from the variety, brightness and depth of the food presented to me. I had just a nip of extra time before rehearsal began, and drove over to Coventry and walked down to the Phoenix coffee shop there, which I haven’t been to before, at least that location. I was gripped with the concept for my article and hurried out with my espresso. It was so seemingly wonderful outside, at 46 degrees, compared to what we’ve been dealing with, that a stranger and I chatted about how nice it was out as we walked down the street. I went to my car and got my ever-ready yellow pad and pen, sat down on a curb and jotted down some thoughts about this article and some others I might write. Espresso after 6pm is perhaps not a great idea, but I think I would have been up most of the night anyway, as my brain is awakened by creative thought, activity and expression, which I get none of during the day in my windowless office (which I feel grateful to have in many ways).
In other news, my son’s eval is complete, and he does not need an IEP, just more work than the average kid on his fine motor skills, which are indeed lagging quite a bit behind, but not in such a way as to diagnose an actual “problem.” The evaluator said, in regards to the “verbal response” portion of the test, that she’s never had a kid test as highly as D did in all the years she’s been testing. This included the ability to fill in the blanks, like “birds fly, fish ___,” but also the ability to describe objects without prompting, and tell stories. Oh yes, my son is quite the storyteller, preferring to make up stories, actions, noises, and gestures for characters on the pages of his books rather than me reading the stories to him. He’s quite the talker, that one. Wonder where he gets it from? 😉