writer

Little Shop of Dreams

There's something about an empty theater that soothes me. Revives me. Inspires me. Sure, it's beautiful when each of those seats are full -- but there is also a certain magic that occurs in those moments after the show has started...when the dust has settled and the ghost light is on, and the story that has just been told still lingers in the air.

That is, by far, one of my favorite moments in any run. For the magic that has undoubtedly happened onstage cannot ever be repeated, no two performances are ever completely identical. That's the beauty of this artform - it forces us to remember & to embrace change. It demands that we cherish moments of connection and intensity and collaboration, moments that, despite the pictures and videos that may have been taken, can only really be repeated in our memories.

🌿

I just wrapped up a prduction of Little Shop of Horrors. The entire production involved almost 90 teenagers.

TEENAGERS.

I just worked with 90 teenagers, and yet, I'm still living.

But all kidding aside - I just watched 90 teenagers work together for three months. They all had different skills. They all had different weaknesses. They all had different strengths. They all were different.

And yet, their differences came together for a greater good.

Those differences came together to create a piece of art that will last in their hearts and souls for as long as they live.

Those differences came together, and united a group of people.

Perhaps our politicans should take a theatre class, eh? Not for public speaking - but to understand what it means to work with someone whom you do not like. To work with someone that has a different set ideals than you. To work for something bigger than your immediate universe.

I've heard it said that actors and artists have the biggest egos in the universe.

Instead I'd say this - perhaps they have the smallest ones, for a true artist is more concerned about the work at hand than his or her own ego.

To the cast, crew, & pit of Little Shop of Horrors - I hope these memories stay with you for the rest of your life. I hope you always remember of a time when a group of young adults came together for something bigger than themselves. I hope you remember that with hard work, love, & passion, all things are possible. I hope you know how proud I am of each and every one of you.

Promise Me That

As the winter is rapidly approaching, and our doses of sunshine get less and less, I know all too many people who fear the winter months. 

Originally this piece was published on HelloGiggles, but I suppose it should live here, too.

. . .

They say that loss is part of life.

Okay, I can get that. I can wrap my head around that…sort of.

The problem comes when I start to try and wrap my heart around that. And then things just do not compute.Do. Not. Compute.

To lose a person that you love, it kills you a little bit. A lot. I know, I’ve been there. You just try to understand how things happen. Why things happened. How things could’ve gotten so bad.  How could he betray you?

HOW?

It echoes in your head until you just want to scream. You’ll do anything to block it out.

I know, I’ve been there.

It’s not fun. It’s actually a hellish ordeal. It’s that bone sadness that you cannot shake. The kind that seeps beyond the tears and into your heart and into your heart and your bones and you’d just give anything to just make it stop. You become tired. You are past the point of sadness. Sleep is what you crave, sleep is what you need. Sleep is welcome. Sleep is a savior.

I know, I’ve been there.

Depression is like this black abyss that just takes you in. It clings to you. It covers you in its think blankets and does not want you to come up for air.

I know, I’ve been there.

But, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I promise you, that at one point, that thick blanket starts to thin, and streams of light start coming through. They prod you to cling to something else, something better, and something greater….

When that blanket starts to smother you, let those that love you lie next to you. Let them be your shoulder to lean on, let them catch the tears that fall, and yes, the tears will fall.

But it’s okay; I promise it’s okay.

There are people there who love you. There are people that will bring you up. Know that you do not deserve the pain; you do not deserve the darkness…

You deserve the love. All of it.  Every single piece of it.

Promise me you’ll never apologize for the depression. Promise. I know that you’re not doing it for attention, you’re not doing with intention…you can’t control it. You wouldn’t wish the cold numbness on your worst enemy.

I know, I’ve been there.

But….

Promise me you’ll take the hands that come to help. Promise me you’ll lean so that you don’t fall. Promise me you’ll cry, so that you may begin to heal.

Promise me that.