~Frank Lloyd Wright
Hello again!
I would apologize for being lax in posting lately, but it's my blog & I told myself I wasn't apologizing anymore for that kind of thing, so I'm not going to. ... yeah... so there.
Some things that have captured my attention lately! (aside from every shiny object that crosses my path--I swear I'm not ADD!)
It's a youtube video, and it's funny, and made me laugh really hard. You should see it! Thank you Kathrene! :) ( I think I did the link thingummy right... if not, I'll be editing this later...
Also, Backstage Badger is a wonderful, beautiful place--but be warned! If you are not a theatre tech, don't go there! If you are an actor, you may well be offended... I warned ya! And thanks for this one go to Mike. :)
'Kay, one more. Hyperbole and a Half is wonderful, and you should all go read it. No seriously, right now, go! Thank you Bea for giving me this fantastic happy. :)
Alright, I think I played around with the links on here enough. See what happens when I don't have rehearsals every night? The interwebs suck my life into their black void of ... time-suckingness... yeah, that sentence kinda got away from me a bit...
Hmmm... what else to write about?
I started writing a new play! Scene 1 is finished (the first draft of it is at least, many more drafts & revisions will have to happen before it's "finished", but I made it to the "lights out" part & I always feel so accomplished when that happens!) and the stage directions and first line of Scene 2 are on paper.
Stage directions are funny things. I'm generally against them in principal--directors throw them out (we were actually told in both my directing classes "toss out the stage directions, they don't actually pertain to you"), actors are told not to pay attention to them (why bother, the director's just going to tell you something different anyway), designers only use them as a spring-board for coming up with a ton of other stuff (to try to fit the director's "vision"), and stage managers just see them as wasted paper that could have been used to record the ACTUAL blocking and cues (because they never really correspond, directors toss it out right away).
Shakespeare being one of my playwright idols, I thought the "right" way to write a play was with minimal stage directions, ex.: "enter", "exit", "they fight, Rosse dies", "Exit chased by bear", etc. He never went on and on and on about the surroundings of the characters, or about the state of the dining room and how many glass figurines were in the cabinet and what they looked like & how significant they were to the mental health of the frail-looking girl who sat polishing them every day because she has self-esteem issues and never got over her high-school crush (alright fine, I confess, I'm not a Tennessee Williams fan. So hate me, it's MY blog and you're still reading aren't you? Who really wins here? :P).
So anyway, I've never been a fan of stage directions. But one of my mentors challenged me to try it out, to give my designers and directors something to play with (or throw away). Because, he said, if I don't give them anything to work with they'll get "bored" with my work.
Heaven forbid I should be the cause of anyone's boredom! That's been one of my not-so-secret fears (I'm writing about it on a blog, I can't really call it a "secret" anymore, now can I?) for as long as I can remember feeling fear: being the cause of some poor soul's boredom.
I took him up on his challenge, and this new play I'm writing has something for everyone. I described the stage (blank), the lights (a single beam illuminating the actor), the blocking (open on one person, sitting downstage right--or was it left? Does it really matter? Does my life have meaning? Why am I here?! Who are you?!!?!), the props (a shabby notebook), the costumes (tattered and grubby), and... oh wait, I forgot sound. Meh, who cares about sound anyway. They have all the pre-show music to worry about & will probably be glad for the break.
Then I did something truly terrible, something I would never in my life dream of doing unless I had no intentions of being involved in the production of this show except in the capacity of actor (let's be honest, actors ... well, go read backstage badger, you'll get the gist of my point).
I made it rain.
That's right. I wrote in my stage directions that it's raining. How? How would that possibly be feasible in a live theatre with a minimal budget?! How do I think that's going to happen should anyone choose to produce this show??
I dunno, and I don't really care right now. Because do you know what I discovered in the process of writing all these minute stage directions before I even touched the dialogue? I discovered who the stage directions are really for.
They're for the playwright. That's why no one else pays attention to them. The reality of the situation is that stage directions help get those ever-elusive and mocking rays of creativity to dance just within reach. They help "set the scene" (literally) so the dialogue can actually begin to flow. I kid you not, I started out with a vague picture in my head. The moment I had that picture set on the page, I knew so much about the plot, the characters, and what the dialogue was going to be like. It was crazy!! Granted, most of that will probably change by the second or third draft, but just the fact that so much of it came so quickly--it was ... it was beautiful! :)
So yeah, that's my little schpeel on stage directions. Later!
Protect the cubs! Eat an apple!
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Saturday, September 3, 2011
"There are better things to do today. Dying can wait."
A brief respite from the storytelling today, I'm feeling philosophical... and the best part about this? It's my blog--I'll write about whatever I want, whenever I want! So there! :) Mwahahaha...
One of the more interesting side-effects (yes, I had to look up to see if it was an "effect" or "affect") of stage managing was the finding of another limitation--namely, the limits of my tendinitis (if that's misspelled I blame spellcheck). I developed the condition in my left elbow about a year & a half ago, and thanks to catching it soon, babying the joint, a new brace & an ibuprofen regime, the limb in question became pain-free and limber again within weeks.
However, as with all my limits, I had to find this one by running full-tilt into a brick wall before I accepted that it even existed. One of the duties I took upon myself as stage manager of Macbeth was mopping the stage every night after shows & rehearsals--there was a lot of sticky blood all over, so it wasn't something that could go undone. For the first two or three weeks I was fine; I wore my brace like a good girl, and nothing happened except the occasional twinge after I was done.
Then the second to last week hit, and my arm suddenly decided of its own volition that it had had enough and wasn't going to mop the whole stage anymore. I'd manage to make it through about half--if I was lucky--and the pain in my elbow would flair up and make it nigh unto impossible to continue.
It's a very humbling experience, being a stage manager incapable of mopping my own stage. I would like to say that I sailed through and was grace personified, inspiring all around me with my beatific acceptance of my condition--but would be lying. I think all who know me know that I haven't that much sweetness to me--nor that much meekness. Truth be told, I was angry. Not mildly irritated, but angry--you who've seen me angry know the difference, and I caught myself having days of irritation that usually mean I've not had enough alone time. But I'd been taking steps to ensure the introvert in me was taken care of--what's the problem? I asked myself several times, on one day particular when every little thing just ticked me off so much. I was raging inside, and taking a fierce delight in the feeling--just waiting for one justified reason to light into somebody.
Then I realized, I was so angry because I was having difficulty accepting that I can no longer do everything I could. I hate being told I can't do something, and my gut reaction is to go do it just to prove whoever said such a ridiculous thing wrong. But in this instance my own body was telling me, and preventing me from proving it wrong. As soon as I realized the cause of my anger it became easier to subdue and deal with--obviously, the first step in mastering emotions is to recognize their source. Yet, I still don't like it.
It's a difficult concept for me to wrap my brain around, frankly. At the age of 23--which may seem old to some, it did to me once--I'm trying to come to grips with the idea that a member of my body is broken, and will likely never be fixed. Tendinitis is a chronic condition, I will be dealing with it until the day my soul takes leave of this earthly tent I call my body. And it hurts.
Don't get me wrong, health issues are nothing new to me. I've lived with asthma and weird allergies for as long as my memory informs me. But as long as I avoided those certain triggers, I usually lived pain-free. But now? I live with pain everyday, brace or no. And I'm trying to realize that it's not going away, the best I can hope for is a slow deterioration.
Please understand, I'm writing this not to whine or complain, but because these thoughts have been trying to write themselves for days now. It's just how I process things--and I feel this should be shared. I'm not angry anymore--well, not most of the time. :) And I'm not feeling sorry for myself, I know plenty of others who deal with a far worse pain everyday with even less hope of relief. Mine is perfectly manageable. I'm young and strong, and pain meds still help!
I s'pose it's the philosophy minor coming out and expressing itself. My nature and education is such that I don't usually ask "why me?" but rather "what can I learn from this?" And I write because sharing the lessons usually solidifies them for me better. So, here's what I've learned thus far from my stupid elbow. :)
I need other people. I like being "a loner" and am an introvert. Left to my own wishes and devices I might go for days without seeing people--well, once upon a time I would have. I also enjoy being self-sufficient, being the problem-solver, the fixer, the person with all the answers. But when I couldn't even mop the very stage I was supposed to managing--as I said, it was very humbling, especially in a show I had no crew for. But my friends stepped up even without my asking. Peter (the director) would come up every night those last two weekends and take the mop away from me, my lead actor James mopped for me, another actor Alec came early and asked if he could mop--the number of people & the people themselves that came and took over doing what I couldn't do anymore ... they gave me warm fuzzies every time I stopped being angry at myself and looked at what was being done. I couldn't have done the job alone, but the people I needed were there.
Asking for help--it's not something I enjoy doing, but I got a bit more practice once I realized I was causing more damage by trying to push through the pain. I'm not saying I enjoyed it, but I did get more practice.
Something I knew already, but I fear to few Christ-followers acknowledge: there is grace to be found outside the Church. I think Christians like the notion that we have a monopoly on grace, as if we're the only ones who know what it looks like & how to give it. But, honestly, I was shown huge amounts of grace from these brothers and sisters of mine in the theatre that don't acknowledge the existence of God, or think of Him in a different fashion than I do. As I said, I wasn't exactly saintly in my wrestling with the facts of my inabilities, but the compassion shown me in the midst of that was beautiful. It's something to think about, surely.
Anyhoo, that's where my heart's been lately. Thanks for reading! <3
One of the more interesting side-effects (yes, I had to look up to see if it was an "effect" or "affect") of stage managing was the finding of another limitation--namely, the limits of my tendinitis (if that's misspelled I blame spellcheck). I developed the condition in my left elbow about a year & a half ago, and thanks to catching it soon, babying the joint, a new brace & an ibuprofen regime, the limb in question became pain-free and limber again within weeks.
However, as with all my limits, I had to find this one by running full-tilt into a brick wall before I accepted that it even existed. One of the duties I took upon myself as stage manager of Macbeth was mopping the stage every night after shows & rehearsals--there was a lot of sticky blood all over, so it wasn't something that could go undone. For the first two or three weeks I was fine; I wore my brace like a good girl, and nothing happened except the occasional twinge after I was done.
Then the second to last week hit, and my arm suddenly decided of its own volition that it had had enough and wasn't going to mop the whole stage anymore. I'd manage to make it through about half--if I was lucky--and the pain in my elbow would flair up and make it nigh unto impossible to continue.
It's a very humbling experience, being a stage manager incapable of mopping my own stage. I would like to say that I sailed through and was grace personified, inspiring all around me with my beatific acceptance of my condition--but would be lying. I think all who know me know that I haven't that much sweetness to me--nor that much meekness. Truth be told, I was angry. Not mildly irritated, but angry--you who've seen me angry know the difference, and I caught myself having days of irritation that usually mean I've not had enough alone time. But I'd been taking steps to ensure the introvert in me was taken care of--what's the problem? I asked myself several times, on one day particular when every little thing just ticked me off so much. I was raging inside, and taking a fierce delight in the feeling--just waiting for one justified reason to light into somebody.
Then I realized, I was so angry because I was having difficulty accepting that I can no longer do everything I could. I hate being told I can't do something, and my gut reaction is to go do it just to prove whoever said such a ridiculous thing wrong. But in this instance my own body was telling me, and preventing me from proving it wrong. As soon as I realized the cause of my anger it became easier to subdue and deal with--obviously, the first step in mastering emotions is to recognize their source. Yet, I still don't like it.
It's a difficult concept for me to wrap my brain around, frankly. At the age of 23--which may seem old to some, it did to me once--I'm trying to come to grips with the idea that a member of my body is broken, and will likely never be fixed. Tendinitis is a chronic condition, I will be dealing with it until the day my soul takes leave of this earthly tent I call my body. And it hurts.
Don't get me wrong, health issues are nothing new to me. I've lived with asthma and weird allergies for as long as my memory informs me. But as long as I avoided those certain triggers, I usually lived pain-free. But now? I live with pain everyday, brace or no. And I'm trying to realize that it's not going away, the best I can hope for is a slow deterioration.
Please understand, I'm writing this not to whine or complain, but because these thoughts have been trying to write themselves for days now. It's just how I process things--and I feel this should be shared. I'm not angry anymore--well, not most of the time. :) And I'm not feeling sorry for myself, I know plenty of others who deal with a far worse pain everyday with even less hope of relief. Mine is perfectly manageable. I'm young and strong, and pain meds still help!
I s'pose it's the philosophy minor coming out and expressing itself. My nature and education is such that I don't usually ask "why me?" but rather "what can I learn from this?" And I write because sharing the lessons usually solidifies them for me better. So, here's what I've learned thus far from my stupid elbow. :)
I need other people. I like being "a loner" and am an introvert. Left to my own wishes and devices I might go for days without seeing people--well, once upon a time I would have. I also enjoy being self-sufficient, being the problem-solver, the fixer, the person with all the answers. But when I couldn't even mop the very stage I was supposed to managing--as I said, it was very humbling, especially in a show I had no crew for. But my friends stepped up even without my asking. Peter (the director) would come up every night those last two weekends and take the mop away from me, my lead actor James mopped for me, another actor Alec came early and asked if he could mop--the number of people & the people themselves that came and took over doing what I couldn't do anymore ... they gave me warm fuzzies every time I stopped being angry at myself and looked at what was being done. I couldn't have done the job alone, but the people I needed were there.
Asking for help--it's not something I enjoy doing, but I got a bit more practice once I realized I was causing more damage by trying to push through the pain. I'm not saying I enjoyed it, but I did get more practice.
Something I knew already, but I fear to few Christ-followers acknowledge: there is grace to be found outside the Church. I think Christians like the notion that we have a monopoly on grace, as if we're the only ones who know what it looks like & how to give it. But, honestly, I was shown huge amounts of grace from these brothers and sisters of mine in the theatre that don't acknowledge the existence of God, or think of Him in a different fashion than I do. As I said, I wasn't exactly saintly in my wrestling with the facts of my inabilities, but the compassion shown me in the midst of that was beautiful. It's something to think about, surely.
Anyhoo, that's where my heart's been lately. Thanks for reading! <3
Friday, September 2, 2011
Running: Light Techs do it when something explodes or catches fire
Thank you facebook flair... :)
So let's see, picking up whence I left off earlier today... where was I? Ah yes! Stage Managing!
It was certainly an experience and a half. I'd only stage managed once before, and that for an already well-established system, with two amazing assistants, and a director who wrote the book on stage managing (and was therefore very on top of everything!). However, I also had a part-time job, 16.5 credit hours of class, a play I was writing & prepping to direct the next semester, and two or three other shows I had some measure of involvement in going on at the same time. Macbeth was so amazing in that I had more to do, it was the premier show of Theatre Coup d'Etat, and I only had a very flexible day job vying for my attentions.
Looking back on the experience is rather... fascinating would be a good word I s'pose. I went into the production feeling so sorry for Peter. I knew him to be a fantastic director, and felt he deserved a stage manager who knew & enjoyed what they were doing. Now, well...
It's amazing, really, the huge gift you give someone, just by having faith in them when they have none in themselves. Now I know, not only can I stage manage, but I can do a pretty amazing job of it. It's still probably never going to be my first choice of jobs, but I can do it & do it well. Thank you, Stacy & Derrick, for being there for me the first time, and giving me the foundation that allowed me to soar this time.
Yet I must confess, I am extremely glad I no longer have to be the tactful & diplomatic rock of patience. :P And that being said, is all I shall say of that.
I think designing lights was my saving grace during the show. Well, not the sole one, but it helped a lot. Something about having that creative outlet and having a capacity to function in as an artist as well as a manager--it made my soul sing and transported me from struggling to thriving. My passion had an out and didn't just boil within.
Hahaha... sorry, I can't help it. My brain keep wandering, and when I write semi-seriously on any of this I suddenly realize how... well, let's just say I suddenly stop taking myself so seriously, and start laughing at such a ridiculous occurrence.
Funny stories about stage managing: I can only share a select few, because some of you reading are not stage managers. For the uncut version, feel free to contact me. If you're a stage manager I'll share gladly! If you're not, I'll probably just laugh at you. Sorry. :)
To give a general idea of what I was working with: there were 16 in the cast, including one 7 year old boy named Arie who played the son of Macduff, our director's name was Peter, our "producer" co-founded Theatre Coup d'Etat with Peter and was our lead actor, James. The space was in downtown St. Paul (which has a very different flavour than Minneapolis), and has a house of about 90. The lighting instruments were 28 in number (29 if you count the one under the seats, which you should actually, because it was awesome), and run by a decently advanced board.
One of my more interesting responsibilities included opening the trapdoor in the light booth. There were two occasions when actors entered from the back of the house, in which case they took a circuitous route and came up the trapdoor that was situated in the light booth, that they might enter from thence into the house. This was all well & fine after the sole time when the actors tried coming up through the trapdoor on their own. It wouldn't have been so terrifying, but for the fact that I was sitting on it, trying to run the lights at the moment... :)
Anyhoo, fun Stage Manager stories will have to wait, as shall tales of Light Designing, Animals class, Gigs to come, and the rest of life. The night is coming on apace and my bed calls to me.
G'night all. See ya tomorrow!
So let's see, picking up whence I left off earlier today... where was I? Ah yes! Stage Managing!
It was certainly an experience and a half. I'd only stage managed once before, and that for an already well-established system, with two amazing assistants, and a director who wrote the book on stage managing (and was therefore very on top of everything!). However, I also had a part-time job, 16.5 credit hours of class, a play I was writing & prepping to direct the next semester, and two or three other shows I had some measure of involvement in going on at the same time. Macbeth was so amazing in that I had more to do, it was the premier show of Theatre Coup d'Etat, and I only had a very flexible day job vying for my attentions.
Looking back on the experience is rather... fascinating would be a good word I s'pose. I went into the production feeling so sorry for Peter. I knew him to be a fantastic director, and felt he deserved a stage manager who knew & enjoyed what they were doing. Now, well...
It's amazing, really, the huge gift you give someone, just by having faith in them when they have none in themselves. Now I know, not only can I stage manage, but I can do a pretty amazing job of it. It's still probably never going to be my first choice of jobs, but I can do it & do it well. Thank you, Stacy & Derrick, for being there for me the first time, and giving me the foundation that allowed me to soar this time.
Yet I must confess, I am extremely glad I no longer have to be the tactful & diplomatic rock of patience. :P And that being said, is all I shall say of that.
I think designing lights was my saving grace during the show. Well, not the sole one, but it helped a lot. Something about having that creative outlet and having a capacity to function in as an artist as well as a manager--it made my soul sing and transported me from struggling to thriving. My passion had an out and didn't just boil within.
Hahaha... sorry, I can't help it. My brain keep wandering, and when I write semi-seriously on any of this I suddenly realize how... well, let's just say I suddenly stop taking myself so seriously, and start laughing at such a ridiculous occurrence.
Funny stories about stage managing: I can only share a select few, because some of you reading are not stage managers. For the uncut version, feel free to contact me. If you're a stage manager I'll share gladly! If you're not, I'll probably just laugh at you. Sorry. :)
To give a general idea of what I was working with: there were 16 in the cast, including one 7 year old boy named Arie who played the son of Macduff, our director's name was Peter, our "producer" co-founded Theatre Coup d'Etat with Peter and was our lead actor, James. The space was in downtown St. Paul (which has a very different flavour than Minneapolis), and has a house of about 90. The lighting instruments were 28 in number (29 if you count the one under the seats, which you should actually, because it was awesome), and run by a decently advanced board.
One of my more interesting responsibilities included opening the trapdoor in the light booth. There were two occasions when actors entered from the back of the house, in which case they took a circuitous route and came up the trapdoor that was situated in the light booth, that they might enter from thence into the house. This was all well & fine after the sole time when the actors tried coming up through the trapdoor on their own. It wouldn't have been so terrifying, but for the fact that I was sitting on it, trying to run the lights at the moment... :)
Anyhoo, fun Stage Manager stories will have to wait, as shall tales of Light Designing, Animals class, Gigs to come, and the rest of life. The night is coming on apace and my bed calls to me.
G'night all. See ya tomorrow!
Thursday, September 1, 2011
"No Broken Bones. Slight Loss of Dignity. No Change There Then."
--Doctor Who, who'd you think it would be? :)
Look! I'm Back! I haven't fallen off the edge of the planet or lost my password to this blog or anything else... though it felt like that at times, to be sure... :) So much has happened since last time I posted, I'm not sure I can fit it all into one post--but we'll give it a go. Besides, if I can't, that just means I have more material for more posts, yeah? :)
Let's see, the last post was June 15th, & I was waiting to hear back about the cast-list for Macbeth... well that actually turned out to be a funny story, let me tell you about it... duh I'm going to tell you about it. That would be kind of mean, wouldn't it. "This is a blog where I ramble about life. This thing happened to me and it was hysterical, but I'm not telling that story, let me recount this hugely boring waste of time to you instead."... sounds like something I would do, actually. But don't worry! I won't this time, promise! :)
I didn't make it into Macbeth, but I have to say, the phone call from Peter (the director) was probably the kindest rejection I've ever had--and I've had a few. I did, however, go to the acting classes that Peter & James invited me to--they lasted for 6 weeks and met every Saturday, Sunday, and Monday for the duration of those weeks. More on those later.
I'll freely admit, I managed to hold it together pretty well while I was on the phone getting the news, but as soon as I hung up ("hung up" the phone, it sounds like so much more than the tap of the screen that was actually involved) I retreated to my room and had a quiet little cry. But I still felt drawn to the show--it was a gut feeling that I've only felt a few times in life, and I've learned it usually means God is trying to tell me something so I should shut up and listen. Thankfully, this time I did. The conversation went something like this:
Me: Well, I guess that one just wasn't Your will for me. I'll just hafta go audition some more for other shows. I really wanted to be involved with that company though--and Shakespeare! I would love to do that show.
God: Yeah, I want you in that show too. So get to it already.
Me: But they didn't cast me. *sneaking suspicion that something nasty is around the corner*
God: So?
Me: SO how am I s'posed to be involved in the show when they don't want me? *Suspicion grows*
God: They don't want you to ACT. You've been involved in plenty of shows that you didn't act in.
Me: But, but, but... I don't want to!!! I don't LIKE stage managing, and that's the only other thing they need for this show! Boy do they ever need it, too... I mean, no! I don't want to!
God: If you can get involved in some other way, go for it. But I want you in that production.
Me: Can't I just go audition for other people? I came up here to ACT for cryin' out sideways!
God: You can, but I want you here.
Me: *grumble grumble* FINE! I'll go to class on Saturday and take my tech resume with me. They've probably already found an SM anyway and won't need me for that either. If You want me in that production, You'll have to take it from there!
God: Oh don't worry, I will. *smirk*
And He did. Saturday after class I asked Peter if he'd found a stage manager yet as I pulled out my resume, and I don't think I even had the sentence completely out of my mouth before he pounced. "You want to be my stage manager?!" And there it was.
Turns out the company didn't have a light designer for the show either, so guess what else I did for the show? :)
Just so you can fully appreciate the irony of this situation: I took classes in as much theatre stuff as I could possibly cram into my schedule over the 4 years I went to college. Lighting Design and Stage Management were two that I did NOT take--the former I remedied by shadowing our light designer, and the latter I neglected to take on purpose because I wanted nothing to do with it. When I spoke with a mentor about portfolio building, we discussed the jobs I would qualify for upon entering the "real world" of theatre. "You probably won't get hired for Stage Managing or Lighting Design, just because that's not where your expertise is" he told me.
Yeah... 'bout that... Are you laughing yet? Jesus still is, I'm pretty sure. :P
Alrighty, I'm taking a break here, but I'll be back later tonight, no worries. Tata!
Look! I'm Back! I haven't fallen off the edge of the planet or lost my password to this blog or anything else... though it felt like that at times, to be sure... :) So much has happened since last time I posted, I'm not sure I can fit it all into one post--but we'll give it a go. Besides, if I can't, that just means I have more material for more posts, yeah? :)
Let's see, the last post was June 15th, & I was waiting to hear back about the cast-list for Macbeth... well that actually turned out to be a funny story, let me tell you about it... duh I'm going to tell you about it. That would be kind of mean, wouldn't it. "This is a blog where I ramble about life. This thing happened to me and it was hysterical, but I'm not telling that story, let me recount this hugely boring waste of time to you instead."... sounds like something I would do, actually. But don't worry! I won't this time, promise! :)
I didn't make it into Macbeth, but I have to say, the phone call from Peter (the director) was probably the kindest rejection I've ever had--and I've had a few. I did, however, go to the acting classes that Peter & James invited me to--they lasted for 6 weeks and met every Saturday, Sunday, and Monday for the duration of those weeks. More on those later.
I'll freely admit, I managed to hold it together pretty well while I was on the phone getting the news, but as soon as I hung up ("hung up" the phone, it sounds like so much more than the tap of the screen that was actually involved) I retreated to my room and had a quiet little cry. But I still felt drawn to the show--it was a gut feeling that I've only felt a few times in life, and I've learned it usually means God is trying to tell me something so I should shut up and listen. Thankfully, this time I did. The conversation went something like this:
Me: Well, I guess that one just wasn't Your will for me. I'll just hafta go audition some more for other shows. I really wanted to be involved with that company though--and Shakespeare! I would love to do that show.
God: Yeah, I want you in that show too. So get to it already.
Me: But they didn't cast me. *sneaking suspicion that something nasty is around the corner*
God: So?
Me: SO how am I s'posed to be involved in the show when they don't want me? *Suspicion grows*
God: They don't want you to ACT. You've been involved in plenty of shows that you didn't act in.
Me: But, but, but... I don't want to!!! I don't LIKE stage managing, and that's the only other thing they need for this show! Boy do they ever need it, too... I mean, no! I don't want to!
God: If you can get involved in some other way, go for it. But I want you in that production.
Me: Can't I just go audition for other people? I came up here to ACT for cryin' out sideways!
God: You can, but I want you here.
Me: *grumble grumble* FINE! I'll go to class on Saturday and take my tech resume with me. They've probably already found an SM anyway and won't need me for that either. If You want me in that production, You'll have to take it from there!
God: Oh don't worry, I will. *smirk*
And He did. Saturday after class I asked Peter if he'd found a stage manager yet as I pulled out my resume, and I don't think I even had the sentence completely out of my mouth before he pounced. "You want to be my stage manager?!" And there it was.
Turns out the company didn't have a light designer for the show either, so guess what else I did for the show? :)
Just so you can fully appreciate the irony of this situation: I took classes in as much theatre stuff as I could possibly cram into my schedule over the 4 years I went to college. Lighting Design and Stage Management were two that I did NOT take--the former I remedied by shadowing our light designer, and the latter I neglected to take on purpose because I wanted nothing to do with it. When I spoke with a mentor about portfolio building, we discussed the jobs I would qualify for upon entering the "real world" of theatre. "You probably won't get hired for Stage Managing or Lighting Design, just because that's not where your expertise is" he told me.
Yeah... 'bout that... Are you laughing yet? Jesus still is, I'm pretty sure. :P
Alrighty, I'm taking a break here, but I'll be back later tonight, no worries. Tata!
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