Dancing Shark

Weeping wistfully.

Ugh. Post-show feelings.

I feel like I never had a chance to really find my groove when calling the show because everything seemed to be changing daily due to poor communication between departments.

Coming from a more hands on techie background, I didn’t fully understand SMs talking with love and pride about their actors and directors, as well as their tech crew. Actors break props and run into preset furniture backstage, how could I possibly be happy re:them in more than a polite “thanks for managing not to break our set pieces” manner?

Before anyone sets out to attack me let me say that I’ve known/accepted that actors were onstage doing their thing while those of us dressed in black do ours and that we rely on each other to be part of this wonderful life of theatre. 

This is merely precursor to the fact that I am beyond proud of my actors, my lovely director, and (of course) my tech crew. Every well executed cue, scene shift, and line left me beaming like a winning pageant child’s mother.

Despite wanting to slap or otherwise maim some folks during the production, I feel like hugging every damn person I worked with and thanking them for the hell they dealt with to make it all come together.

I haven’t a rubric to judge whether I was good at my job for this show. It was a completely new experience and I sincerely hope I did a satisfying job. My director on multiple occasions expressed her gratitude and said she viewed me as something along the lines of indispensable but I really feel like I could have done more. Alternately, I’m also terrified that I may have stepped on toes or irritated others in my efforts to make sure everything got done.

In two weeks, we have the first production meeting for my next show. For the next twelve days, my days will seem to lack a bit of purpose.

I know that I have things to do and homework to catch up on but I still feel a bit baffled by an agenda not filled to the brim with theatre.

Today is going to be a lovely day.

Someone had the brilliant idea to combine designer run through and paper tech into a single Friday.

My sound designer has yet to send me even a preliminary cue list. I know generals but specifics have been hard to obtain due to his elusiveness.
I literally wrote down “music to bone to” down as a cue’s effect a few moments ago.

In the past week I have searched every goddamn retailer in 5 mile radius of my home that sells bedding for something that meets the specifications my director gave me and the budget one of the department’s head gave me. I’ve got nothing to show for it apart from the bags beneath my eyes.

Despite my bitching, I would not give up theatre for the world. I simply can’t see myself being nearly as happy doing anything else in the next few years.
Even when I’m stretched beyond my breaking point and cursing the very process of production, I am loving the fuck out of every second I spend working towards putting on a show.

After all, it’s hard not to enjoy yourself when you’re working with friends and you have a freshly purchased pack of post-its in your pocket.

A certain level of discontent rises with that of disconnect

It’s truly unfortunate when you want nothing more than to reach out to someone in a lame attempt at connection, comfort and your mind can only bring forth shaky, inarticulate wording or lines from whichever show you’re working on.