The mantra around here goes something like this: one day at the Barn is equivalent to one week in another theater.
In some ways, I suppose I can testify to that. After all, I can now officially report that, after eight days of rehearsal, we opened a two-act, two-hour comedy. In eight days, I took a script I knew nothing about, highlighted my assigned lines, memorized my lines, added movement to my lines, and then ultimately acted-out those lines alongside five others who were, as of eight days of rehearsal ago, complete strangers.
That’s not normal eight-day procedure.
But on the other hand, I’m skeptical. I still feel like I should be able to bike to the Brew for a cup of coffee, or go to yoga at 4:00, or walk across campus to visit with my best friends. And if I’m not able to do that, I feel like there should be strawberries for me to help pick, a lawn to mow, or a boating outing with the fam to look forward to.
Usually, I’d say this is still transition time.
But not according to the Barn’s calendar. We’re over 8 weeks in, and there’s two scripts stuffed into my backpack to prove it. One to review, one to memorize. On July 3, we open show #2. And so, ready or not, the summer barrels on. And ready or not, I’ll be back on stage tonight, doing what I love to do.
Time is tight, but there’s still plenty summer to come.
That’s exhausting–but also a relief. Because in the short time I’ve been working here, I’ve done so much thinking, so much processing. Is this what I want to do? Is theatre what I can best offer to the world? How does theatre impact our culture? Our lives? What role does it play? And how does all of that mix into my faith, my calling?–heck, my immediate future!
With all that to think through, it’s probably okay if one day equals one week. That way, I have a lot more summer to go, and hopefully more time to ask questions and ponder the very craft I’ve been hired to do.