Return

I'm back, after a long hiatus. This isn't the first time I've dropped of the face of the blogging planet, BUT, in my defense, my last post, on the first of June, was followed by the most emotionally trying three months of my life. I'm... hoping that's all behind me?

I won't elaborate, because the specifics of my unraveling aren't particularly interesting or even unique, and, anyway, this isn't my diary. I only mention it because with it has come a subsequent questioning of my life in the theater - my drive, my passion, my abilities as a director, blah blah blah.

I told you it wasn't interesting or unique.

But, as this is ostensibly my theater blog, the whole crisis of, um, vocation? may come up again so - there it is.

In the meantime, I also wanted to mention that one of the things that I clung to during my time of crisis was, in fact, a line from a play. And a play by a colleague, at that. Andrea Lepcio's Looking for the Pony, a play which I had the pleasure of seeing as a reading and later as a full production, is an amazingly poignant story of two sisters' efforts to accept one's cancer diagnosis. The older sister, practical and steadfast, is always advising the younger, who is more passionate, eager, and headstrong, to "ammend the goal," rather than plow stubbornly forward with a plan that isn't working. This advice is particularly touching at the end when -- spoiler alert -- the older realizes it's time to ammend the goal of surviving her cancer.

Anyway, in the past three months, as I've fallen further and further down the rabbit hole of who am I? where am I going? etc., it's given me stabililty and strength to remember that it is an option to "ammend the goal."

I think I might email Andrea and tell her her words have been a comfort. Because that's what we all wish for, isn't it? That we could share a moment, however small, however fleeting with another person? That something we've created might find its way into another person's life with all the significance and meaning that we felt for it?