The Calm Before The Fall

I took yesterday off. I knew it was going to happen, It was a matter of time. I wore myself down and shared close backstage air with a number of sick cast members. I could feel myself starting to get sick, so I took a crash day as a preemptive measure to all out badness. I slept all... day... long... I slept while Strangers On A Train and The Two Towers spun unheeded in my DVD player. I slept and I dreamt of the posting I would miss yesterday.

No I didn't, he said slyly. I did actually dream of my director for the show currently in rehearsals giving me acting notes on a show that doesn't exist. I couldn't understand a word he said, but I kept nodding and saying "okay". Stupid actor dreams. There's also the ones where you go out on stage and realize you don't know your lines, or you've learned the lines for a completely different show.

Oh man you guys, I'm a little fuzzy brained today, I beg your pardons.

I got up in the evening and shuffled feverishly to the theater. It was overcast and humid out, a little cold around the edges. It reminded me of New Orleans a bit; when you can feel all of that pent up rainfall in the air, bouncing off the brick walls, it always does. But it was really the realization that fall was so close to here, like two blocks away on a bike, that made me smile and feel light inside. I just kept thinking of pies and bread and soup, and bundling up to walk outside in air that smells wet and spicy.

We did some heavy, serious, one on one work inside the theater. When we broke for the night we conglomerated outside the theater like normal. It had rained while we were inside and the streets and the bricks of the buildings were shining. I always feel good when I have done some serious acting type stuff, when I have gotten into a place where I'm not thinking anymore and just running on instinct, but there was this nearly post coital calm that I felt afterwards.

Erik asked if I wanted a ride. I didn't, I wanted a slow walk through the light rain, I wanted to indulge myself in a sort of romantic melancholy. The guy who always perches on the sidewalk next to Linda's and gives out a "hey guy" when you pass was scooted as far out of the rain as possible. I gave him my daily salutation back and he laughed with this bubbly glee that makes me smile thinking about it. "Try to stay dry brother," he said, laughing.

I felt tired, and I felt sickness trying to pry itself further in, but I felt good damn it. I felt a peace and excitement all together in an intoxicating mix. I felt like all of these unseen pieces had come together just right to bring me to these present moments, and that man, I really couldn't want for more. I felt love for all the amazing people I'm lucky enough to have in my life. I got excited thinking about wrapping the baby bear up and walking through the city to give it it's first taste of the world.

This glorious, heartbreaking world.