Sunday, January 25, 2015
Facebook: Opened Bloody Mary Christmas at Space 55 tonight. Great audience, good things happened. Now that I've opened the show, I feel a part of me has been exposed. Now I need to hear the whispering Universe. I need to hear Her winds whip around canyon walls and feel Her swirl turbulent eddies around me. I need the invisible force of the Universe to hold me up murmuring "shhhhh" "shhhhhh" as I pull my shell back together and seal it up for the next 20 hours until I do it all again. #walkingonstage #anactorslife#windycomfort
Introspection alert - be forewarned.
Tonight was opening night for a light hearted and raunchy little comedy called A Bloody Mary Christmas. It's been great fun rehearsing this show with a great director and cast. And it's been awakening something in me that I never came to terms with fully.
I left theatre performance for a long while and became a writer and filmmaker. That's what a lot of people out here in AZ know me as. I've had many folks say to me that they were surprised to see me in a show. But that's just because they didn't know me when I was all about that theatre thang. I gave it up for a lot of really practical reasons that had nothing to do with the thing that made it easy for me to walk away for a while.
I walked away from theatre because it is very very very hard to be naked on a stage (METAPHOR) and then walk away and be simply happy.
And happiness is what I wanted. Happiness is NOT what I had.
When you stand on that stage and perform, whether it's Shakespeare or avante garde brilliance or light hearted comedy, you stand there naked. Your honest and truthful nature, your authentic self is there, exposed, and awaiting the audience's approval.
And no matter what, I never could just walk away and say, "oh well, I did my best, I hope they liked it."
The thing that mattered most, I never had. I never had the arms of someone I trusted completely wrap me up at the end of a performance and say, "I love you." I had boyfriends, and fans, and friends and peers all tell me how fabulous I was, And I've had critics say I suck, or I was their favorite performance of the year, or something in between those two things. But I never had someone at the end of the long nights of soul-baring performances simply put his arms around me and say, "I love you." No judgement. No uplifting words of encouragement. Just someone who really loved me and didn't want to disect what I did. Didn't care that I was naked on stage, only cared that I was there to love.
And yes, the feminist Lee knows that I am supposed to be that person.
But tonight, at the end of an opening night performance, I am reminded of why I left theatre for a long while. I needed love.
So it serves as a reminder that I must love myself. First. Always.
There are men I crush on, people I care greatly for -- and wouldn't it be nice to have one of them say they loved me and mean it? Sure.
But I guess that comes at the right time, and the time, she is not yet right.