Lessons Learned; Tagged Under Mundane, Personal, Show Notes

Yesterday I had quite the adventure as my battery died and my car left me stranded on Burnet. Well, not stranded really since it was a busy street, the man was nearby and there was an AutoZone a block down. But it FELT like strandedness for about 30 seconds! I hate car issues. HATE them. I said to my husband that I never feel more like a woman (meaning of course a helpless female) than when inside an auto parts store needing help. I can't say it's a good feeling, but I have little interest or affinity with engineering skills.

(My mother, god bless her, loved cars. Loved fixing things. Loved taking things apart. I remember that she once told me that right after she got married to my dad, he chastised her for fixing some recording equipment that he couldn't seem to fix. I'm sure his masculinity was bruised, given this was the 60's, but she came back at him with, "Well then I guess you can't do any of the cooking and you should stay out of my kitchen." He looked at her and laughed and realized (for he loved to cook), that she shot and scored and thus peace reigned in the marital valley. He was a smart man.)

I spent the better part of the midday outside in the sun and as a result didn't eat on time, and wound up having lunch at home at 3:30, dehydrated and shaky. Of course I had a show to do and I didn't really gauge how my weird food consumption and my diet has been weird anyway since I'm having a body issue moment (when am I not), and I thought I drank enough water.

As always, I warmed up physically (funny, since this was a night I narrated offstage), and the theater was sweaty hot and I overdid it and my small evening meal was nt nearly enough to get me through. I pulled a muscle in my back at some point (likely from lifting a big prop piece), acted like an ass backstage, and by the time the show started I was sinking into some weird headspace and I felt really, really off balance, very hungry and unprepared.

Also and a sidenote here---see narrating is a weird thing for me. I enjoy it more than I thought I would, but I have not yet found a place of flow and total provvy fun with it. My instinct tells me that is due mostly to the fact that it is physically passive role (though an active mental one) and because my confidence comes (ironically) from my body on stage, I am left trapped inside my own head on the sides. I clutch the mic tightly, My body is tensed and still. I lose words and while I am highly alert and concentrated on the story and watching everything and taking in it (in a very very different way than being onstage), there is no "flow", no eye contact with the actor I am narrating for, I can't tell if the audience is responding or not, so there no physical, aural or visual connections. I can't figure out how to get the words out. There is a very basic disconnect for me. It's a little like being improvisationally sensually impaired.

When I perform, sometimes I can't really remember what's happened onstage. I mean, I can, but the detail or lines fade quickly because I am so in the moment. Which is fucking awesome. It's a grand feeling actually. I have had really intense shows where I was in myself and over myself at once and seeing the story and doing the story and that's so cool.

With narrating, I'm only at the point that I'm seeing the story. I am there only in the sense that I am overseeing things. I don't feel in it. This could have to do with lack of experience, but it winds up being less satisfying than I would like it to be. Which is absolutely wonderful and fine most nights, because I'm there to serve the show and the cast in that role, but given the weird day and weird dynamics at the show, hydration, and blood sugar issues, by the time the show was over, I felt a complete emotional mess.

Silly, I suppose as the show was rockin' and the cast did an amazing job. It was fun and silly and sexy and all that groovy stuff that it was supposed to be. And apparently I said some funny things too, so that's a win.

I shouldn't have gone out to get drinks, but I did. And things got kind of weird. Which is fine cause sometimes things just get weird. I was not in a good place, though. It's been a long time since I've really ignored past lessons learned like that. I'd blame it all on the full moon and the lunar eclipse, blame my odd reactions, my insecurities and my bad attitude on the syncopated beat of the cosmic drum, but I know it really was just plain old me, letting a few demons out on the town for the night.

Comments