Once upon a time the little girl, who was now actually no longer little, began to write. She had a some-what idea and thought she would write it down…just for the sake of having something to do…She wrote and wrote and then suddenly after many plays, and stories, and rewrites she was sitting in the front row of her first full length play reading mesmerized as her (and she’s not afraid to take some ownership of them)…her actors brought her story, her characters, her simple words on a page to life. She was in love with her actors, those people that took this moment so seriously eventhough she had put together a simple, amateurish afternoon of wine and drama and art…hoping beyond hopes to validate the creative activities she had busied herself with over the last nine or ten months steadily.
The little girl was thrilled with…
Ok, it’s time to face it…I’m not a little girl nor will I ever be again. But I’ve always loved the idea of writing a book of anecdotes about ‘the little girl’. I did it back in highschool instead of keeping a journal I wrote about her. It was more comfortable and more easy to express without a specific identity. Maybe…I need to learn to find the strength and poetry of my own voice instead….
I was thrilled with the play reading. I was thrilled to sit and witness something come together that I had worked on so hard…every writer writes to some degree about themselves…that’s a given…and I feared that the audience would take it literal, judge the shit out of me, or perhaps only remember the pashmina clusterfuck that occurred.
And then suddenly my kids are climbing on me and I am dragged back to a reality of bum wiping and nose blowing and arm pit washing as we get ready for bedtime. I’m still trying to figure out how to make this all work. To keep my head in reality but still allow the adventures of my daydreaming to exist enough so so that I can write convincingly about them and create more….stories people want to listen to. Being a writer is just so…draining, life sucking, adventurous, and exhilarating.
Thank you to everyone who attended. Thank you even more to my beautiful, talented and believing actors…thank you most of all to my dear friend Lori. She took on the role of producer without a question. I didn’t know I needed or wanted one to start but…I couldn’t have done it without her.
I felt bare and exposed and excited this afternoon. I am sorry that it is done for now but I have that much more drive to bring it about again.