“I can’t DO it – I can’t remember it – WHY can’t I remember that line from the script.”  Sound familiar?  I’ve said it myself, and now I’m having it said to me.  So I spent seven miles between the studio and the house saying things like, “No one who’s listening to your speech has a copy of it in front of them.” Followed closely by, “get out of the habit of saying ‘don’t tell me, don’t tell me’ when you can’t remember what comes next.

And then I dropped it all and said BREATHE.  You’ve already decided where you are and what you’re doing when the speech begins (which I personally think is an amazing thing, and she did it all on her own).  You are writing your memoir…remembering things.  Allow yourself to do it.  Let events occur to you for the first time, even though you’ve been rehearsing them over and over.  Some things take a little time, others are fresh.

Forget about the fact that these are a jury of your peers (and I completely sympathize…the worst time for me is during rehearsal when I am absolutely certain my fellow actors are cringing and the director is wondering what on earth he/she saw in my audition)…and just tell the story.  You can do it.  I promise.

That’s all we can ask for really, right?  Moments…flashes…glimpses.  I love picking up phrases like this (this one’s courtesy of Back Stage and the ballet).  The article is talking about making sure Balanchine’s work is performed as intended. 

When we pick up scripts, everything we need to know is in the script – feelings, images, sets, props, costumes.  Even if it’s not specifically mentioned, you know it’s unlikely that there would be a kitchen stove in an office, or a typewriter on a spaceship. 

But there are options…choices.  At the end of the day we choose what suits the production best within the setting of the play.  Which is why you can see different versions of the same show and walk away learning something new…an inflection, a tone, a vision.  It keeps us all coming back.

Passion believes.  It dances like nobody’s watching, but it dances better every time it steps on the floor.  At the core of passion…for a bottle cap collection, a Beethoven sonata, a Honus Wagner card…is the belief that what you’re doing has value and you are going to celebrate that value by what you have, what you do, and what you are.

I needed that reminder.  I’ve been running for so long, that being at loose ends for a week feels like I don’t know what to do next.  Oh, yeah…there’s homework to ask about, a schedule to set up and maintain, and…did I mention there’s a research paper?  There are rehearsals, present and future, and we’ll jump back into the deep end of the pool.  So I played ballet mom and just watched.  Preteens and teens sweating through barre work, routines, corrections (and anyone who tells you dancers don’t SWEAT is selling you something you don’t want to buy) all in the name of that moment when they fly.  When it all works and they can feel it…and they hold it for one more agonized second (with a smile)…and then a stingy sip of water, a pat of the towel, a stretch…

They won’t all be prima ballerinas, or even members of the chorus, but they are following their passion for dance that will last a lifetime, no matter how they choose to sustain it.  And I’m watching it grow, and feeling nurtured and energized.