slow glowing

ebenezer and the ghost of christmas future world tour 2008

sometimes you remember that theatre is a lot of people coming together to play pretend, key word play, and you’re already laughing so you laugh harder and think, oh, yeah. that’s why.

last night i came home exhausted and just a little despairing. put my only long-sleeved black shirt* in the laundry, went to sleep, woke up, biked to the theatre–and today was another long day. i flew things in and out, handed off props, read zines in too-dim light during pauses and slow times, drank coffee, covered the not-black parts of my bike gloves with gaff tape (my palms were a little torn up from yanking on ropes bare-handed yesterday), pulled back masking curtains, struck set pieces and furniture, hummed the christmas carols irreversibly stuck in my head, ran around wearing my swanky wireless headset, rode enormous turntables in circles on the stage, paced and danced behind the set waiting for standby cues, straightened collars on the children’s costumes, wound and unwound extension cords and sound cables, timed the movements of an electric fan i held to coincide with an old man’s snore, and, yes, laughed. even when there’s lighting equipment worth several times more than the entire budget of other shows i’ve worked on in just one cart that’s rolled on and off stage once during the show, the kind of problem-solving that goes on during tech week is the same kind that goes on during any tech week, and yeah it’s frustrating and yeah… it’s fun.

i gotta get to sleep so i can get up in the morning and do it again.

* this is a problem. i also don’t have a pair of black pants with pockets (not vital for a stage manager, but as a stagehand today i walked around with a lot of stuff stuck down my waistband). oooh, i am a morning person when left to my own devices and i love being bright and colorful, but i also love working in theatre, disappearing backstage in my blacks, and getting off work at 11:30pm.

flying is not like riding a bike

(though riding a bike is sometimes like flying.)

yesterday i started a new theatre gig, a big-budget (for portland) holiday show for which i am on the crew, doing whatever is needed backstage. the most exciting thing that i get to do backstage is fly. the last show i worked on in which i flew something was the second show i ever stage managed, this crazy production of alice in wonderland in which a half dozen or so middle schoolers played all the parts–in one memorable scene, they all played the jabberwock (one its leg, one its lower jaw, two its tail and so on). anyway, i called the show from backstage and got up to fly in and out… a forest? not the tulgey wood, though. red and black branches that the kids unclipped from cables and used as tails and brooms, maybe. i still think about that show. i learned a lot about theatrical possibilities–before then i’d mostly been involved in musicals and boring productions of boring three-act dramas.

anyway, that was seven years ago, when i was sixteen and didn’t know enough about theatre to really appreciate the fact that my high school’s theatre had a freakin’ fly system. and flying, apparently, is not like riding a bike. i am going into work early tomorrow to get a little lesson on how to not make big crashing noises happen backstage during the show, et cetera. friday will be an even longer day than yesterday, and yesterday i worked ten hours, not counting our dinner break. but it flew by, really. tech week is one of my favorite parts of any production, and it’s kind of neat to be stepping in just in time for that period of organized chaos when all the “magic” starts to happen.

bonus!–i really like the people at this company. i would love to keep working for them or even get a permanent job there… uh, wouldn’t i? if i did, i wouldn’t be able to take off for hawaii or on my bike or whatever. right now i’ve only got a real idea of what my future looks like through march (this gig, then a stage management gig). and yeah, come april i might very well be in portland working in theatre with my life planned another four months or so ahead… but hey, i might not! maybe this is immaturity, or maybe it’s just my way of coping with the fact that i don’t actually have any job security. or maybe it’s something else altogether. my modus operandi for this time in my life. whatever; i am quite happy to not really care one way or the other what it all means at the moment. that’s the truth.

another truth: i sure miss puna. with that in mind, here is a little list–

some nice things about portland in the winter
or, how i learned to stop feeling s.a.d. and love the rain

my suitcase heart

last glimpse of the island:

felt a certain sinking of my heart, i must admit, when i looked out the window and realized i was actually leaving.

later, looking down at last at the lights of seattle, i thought about cities and the sheer number of people they contain within such a compact, easily-traversable space. well that’s kind of cool, isn’t it?, i thought. with that many people there’s got to be some kindred spirits. but i think that that attitude is exactly what keeps us from finding them. the sea is so big that we use pretty much any excuse to throw away each fish without much more than a glance. sometimes we don’t bother glancing. i met people in puna with whom i probably wouldn’t have so much as chatted with at a party in portland, and they were pretty much without exception generous, kind people whose conversations i was delighted to listen to and take part in. while puna is a unique, self-selecting crowd, i think there are probably way more worthwhile people in the world in general than i have previously allowed for. everyone’s figuring shit out. it’s really exciting and feels good to be involved in other people’s figuring and have others involved in yours. community building and all that. i approve.

but all this feels silly when i remember that i have so much love and community in portland already. i came down with my dad on wednesday. yesterday i saw my friend’s dance-theatre thesis show, ran into so many friends and felt so welcomed home. went to another friend’s weekly midnight picnic (since 2006! i’ve been going since early 2007) and drank sweet wine and toasted everything and shared cookies i’d made. this morning i walked through my neighborhood in my winter coat and my favorite scarf, watching my warm breath. i love the smell of the cold air. yellow leaves in puddles. tonight i’m hanging out with as many friends as possible at the pied cow, one of my favorite coffee/dessert/drinks places.

there are so many possibilities! i feel two-sided–or i suppose multi-facted (!)–but not in any really difficult or frustrating way. there is the part of me that was appalled when i walked in the door of my house for the first time in six weeks or so at the sheer amount of stuff we have. there is the part of me that sat on my bed and delighted in the stacks of unread books and zines, the drawers full of mementoes, my ukulele. there is the part of me that wants to join the peace corps or teach english in the french caribbean. there is the part of me that wants to get a dog and buy a house and paint murals on all the walls. in any case, i am not worried about being bored.