Sunday, 1st March '09
Lost in Art
I'm having a very strange weekend of being what I tend to call "Lost in Art". It's that sort of feeling I tend to fall into when a show nears and suddenly all other Earthly cares seem to fade away and I get suspended in some sort of Limbo.
I liked school for the reason that it's very accommodating to Limbo. The closest thing I came to having trouble balancing the two was Dramafest (Hell Week it was indeed) that clashed with all those Bio tests, and "Secrets" which clashed with Moots. Oh, there was that INSANE public law assignment that literally had me in tears after handing it up because of the sheer intensity of producing Evo on a schedule of something like 8 hours a day, and having to write 5000 words about the Elected Presidency at the same time. But somehow school could always be jigged around - ask to do the test early, and lessons always end on time. And no lecturer would hold it against you if you were a little sluggish in tutorial if they knew you had a series of three shows on the days before.
Work, unfortunately, requires one to be both quite alert during office hours, and happily... well.. Limbotic thereafter. Worse, you can never predict office hours... and the "test" equivalents? Oh-ho, I wonder if you could tell His Honour that the hearing should be brought forward a little so that you can go worry about whether your dancers should wear a cotton vest, or you should cut up a racer back top and try to sew it into some semblance of a vest. Or because you need find some way in the world to expand in depth and not laterally simply because... it's true, it's right. There's no excuse for not focusing because if people in my line of work don't focus, someone could really get hurt.
So what this means is that I'm feeling a truckload of respect for those alumni seniors who have managed to do this over the years. I think I already have it pretty easy; I work with a wonderful cast (or at least I don't hate them, haha), I borrow the family car pretty often and steal rides with what I like to call my "post rehearsal winning smile". But when you're trying to deal with the intensity of a show in the last days, somehow the need for it to be a part of you is so all consuming that it's taking more than willpower - it's taking skill, really - to really just cut it out and focus on the rest of your life. Geez, playing with the dog I end up picking him up under the armpits and swinging him around just because I happened to be thinking of choreo. Then he looks at me, puzzled.
Sigh. Need to sleeeeppp. Need to think.... need to start bringing food on Sundays or risk anemia.
[well, the pictures aren't going to take themselves!]