blueimber: (Default)
[personal profile] blueimber
i worked Oklahoma!
here at the local theater.

Theater feels almost as home-like to me as the Faire does;
i have belonging, purpose and merit there-
and when the first piece loads in
until the last one is loaded out-
there is always the thrill of the next curtain.
It is a job like no other job;
the people are like no other people
and this particular group was such a pleasure;
the actors and actresses were competent and normal;
the crew was minimal
and the show ran so smoothly and spot on.

It was good to work;
seeing the truck in the morning and then
loading it back up
reminded me so strongly of Terrorwerks and
even tho that is A LOT of work
i miss it dreadfully;
i would have given nearly anything to change the show truck
to a Terrorwerks truck
and be on the road ourselves to the next town.  

It was a tinge of sadness that i felt as we drove home;
to know that it would be the spring again before my next show
and also to know it was continuing somewhere onward without me
that i was only just one stop on the tour-
and that shows go up every night that i could probably get involved with.  

i never felt the great need to go in for crew on a professional level;
but sometimes i wish for that life on the road;
to me it seems almost to be the epitome of a life like mine-
always moving around
never in one place for very long.

and yet it is the constant moving and displaced feelings that 
i have fought so hard against
most of my life.

i suppose i find balances;
make trade offs between lifestyle and standard-
and to always live with a kind of nobility and grace
no matter what it throws at you or where you end up.
and even tho i struggle
i am happy
just to breathe, just to be here, allowed to pursue beauty and visions of it.

it seems that the convention season is at an end;
there are no more faires or festivals or shows-
it is time to settle in for winter;
curl up and lay down against the cold
dream of springs and summers and the joys of life to come.

i read some of my posts from the last year
trying to date a thought in my mind
a moment of the muse having once touched down
in a simple sweet word
a whisper in the desperation of my drought;
the few little lines she had given me
and how they seemed to have been echoing
in this year past.

If i had to call it anything
i would call it
and the realization and
acknowledgement of that
sits deeper nestled than
any insignificant insecurity;
a deeper positiveness
than i have felt
in a sincere

i am happy with my choices
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