{"id":3895,"date":"2005-11-17T00:21:11","date_gmt":"2005-11-17T05:21:11","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=3895"},"modified":"2010-07-13T14:45:16","modified_gmt":"2010-07-13T18:45:16","slug":"catharsis","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=3895","title":{"rendered":"Catharsis"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Tonight is rainy and cold.  I made my way to the theatre through the rain, and I had no umbrella.  I dried off at the theatre and then started my preparation for the show.  It&#8217;s a long process, and I&#8217;m obsessive about it: I do certain things at certain times &#8230; I can&#8217;t start a certain part of the preparation until a certain time &#8230; I&#8217;m like Nomar Garciaparra. I hear the stage manager out on stage calling out each numbered light cue &#8211; for the assistant stage manager in the booth to run the cue &#8230; it always happens at a certain time and it lets me know where I&#8217;m at, in terms of time left, and what I should be doing.  I like ritual.  It&#8217;s very relaxing.  So I hear her voice calling out, methodically: &#8220;23 &#8230;&#8221; long pause as the cue is run &#8230; &#8220;24 &#8230;&#8221;  another pause &#8230; &#8220;25 &#8230;&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>We had a full house tonight.  A couple of good friends of mine were going to be in attendance. I was looking forward to performing for them.  It&#8217;s good to never forget the audience.<\/p>\n<p>In a way I cannot quantify yet &#8211; being in this show has changed my life.  It&#8217;s not &#8220;just another show&#8221; for some reason.  It&#8217;s so many other things.<\/p>\n<p>I am in the first scene very briefly &#8211; but I have no lines and I am in the background.  It&#8217;s someone else&#8217;s scene and the lights are not on me.  The house is FULL of people.  I am facing out during that first scene &#8211; and obviously I am not sitting up there, scanning the audience for my friends &#8230; tee hee &#8211; I can be seen, I&#8217;m in character &#8230; but there&#8217;s that dual thing that goes on where you have multiple levels of consciousness going on.  You are aware of the audience, and yet you are in the world of the play. I think such moments are only possible if you are relaxed.  If you are tense &#8211; you can barely do ONE thing at a time, let alone 2 or 3.  Hence: the long rituals before the show.<\/p>\n<p>So anyway, I&#8217;m there for the first scene.  I glance up at the audience.  And immediately see my acting mentor &#8211; one of the most important men in my life &#8211; sitting smack dab in the front row.  He will be sitting directly beneath me when I have my big moment in my scene.  He will be looking STRAIGHT UP MY NOSE.  Now &#8211; this man deserves an enormous post of his own &#8211; I haven&#8217;t really talked about him, because I don&#8217;t know how to talk about it.  This man has seen me at my most raw.  This man has seen stuff that even my dearest friends haven&#8217;t seen &#8211; because when you&#8217;re involved in an acting process, often you get even MORE raw there &#8230; than you would with your friends.  This man <i>knows <\/i>me.<\/p>\n<p>I have not seen him in a couple of years, for various reasons &#8230; and I have felt guilty about losing touch.  I know where he is now, what he&#8217;s doing &#8230; through the grapevine but every time I have thought about picking up the phone, I hesitate.  There&#8217;s never enough time.  (Lame excuse)  I need to be completely focused and clear when I talk to him and I&#8217;m always too rushed.  (Lame excuse)<\/p>\n<p>What it really is is that &#8230; just the FACT of seeing him makes me confront myself, my dreams for myself, my hopes, my goals.  HE holds onto all of those things.  FOR me.  If I&#8217;m not able to believe in myself, HE is there to do it for me until I get back on my feet again.  He has gone to bat for me.  It is an amazing thing to have someone believe in you the way he believes in me &#8211; but it also can be quite a responsibility.  And if I&#8217;m not in a good space with myself, I tend to withdraw from him.  I can&#8217;t deal with him then.  The guilt pangs are amazing.<\/p>\n<p>So.  There he was.  There he was.<\/p>\n<p>I took a moment to register this.  I didn&#8217;t lose my shit, I didn&#8217;t suddenly forget my blocking &#8230; but knowing that he was there completely changed everything.  I had to factor him in.<\/p>\n<p>I know I&#8217;m not explaining that part right.  It&#8217;s not like I suddenly went backstage and feverishly tried to change my performance so I would be &#8220;good enough&#8221; for him.  No.  I have more confidence in my ability than that.  Nothing would be changed.  But he was out there.  And suddenly &#8211; like I knew I would be &#8211; like I have been avoiding over the past year when I haven&#8217;t picked up the phone to call him &#8211; I was confronted, yet again, by his unswerving belief in me.   Also confronted by &#8230; this deep sense of anxiety and loss.  Wondering if I will seem very changed to him.  If he will think: &#8220;Wow.  What has happened to Sheila.&#8221;  The man has power over me, no doubt about it.  I happen to think he more than deserves it &#8211; but there it was.<\/p>\n<p>There it was.  In that theatre with me.<\/p>\n<p>My scene went very well.  The second I was on, and the lights were on me, and the second I opened my mouth &#8211; I forgot his watching eyes, I forgot all of that stuff, and I played the scene.<\/p>\n<p>After the show, I raced around getting out of my costume &#8211; I had my friends to go out and see, yes, but I had to see him, too &#8211; and I felt like &#8230; I felt like a little impatient kid.  I could not get out there soon enough.  GET. THIS. COSTUME. OFF. ME.  Why are these pantyhose NOT COMING OFF?  GET. THEM. OFF. ME. NOW.<\/p>\n<p>I went out into the lobby and there were my three friends.   Hugs all around.  People coming over to me to say stuff to me &#8211; people I don&#8217;t know &#8211; my attention being scattered &#8211; but the whole while, my eyes scanned the lobby.<\/p>\n<p>Then I saw him &#8211; he had started back into the theatre, obviously to go look for me &#8211; and I broke away from my friends &#8211; and took a couple of steps, calling out his name.  He turned back, saw me, opened his arms &#8211; and suddenly we were hugging &#8211; and out of nowhere, I BURST into tears.  I hadn&#8217;t thought I would cry &#8211; but then I BURST out crying.  Which I never do.  Maybe trickly tears, easy to deal with &#8211; but this was a sudden storm.<\/p>\n<p>And once I started &#8211; I couldn&#8217;t stop.  I still haven&#8217;t stopped.  I cried and cried and cried into his shoulder, saying his name over and over, and he was squeezing me so tight it almost hurt, and kissing the side of my face, and laughing out loud in joy at seeing me again.  And I just clung to him, crying into his down parka like a little girl.<\/p>\n<p>It was <i>amazing<\/i>.<\/p>\n<p>I feel like something that has been a bit broken in my heart for a while has now been mended.  I feel blessed.  I cried the entire time we talked &#8211; and we were talking about the show, and his work, and how much he loved my work, and we laughed about how he had been looking up my nose for my entire scene, and we made an appointment to have lunch next week &#8211; and the entire time, tears kept welling up, spilling over, welling up, spilling over &#8230; faster than I could wipe them away.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Tonight is rainy and cold. I made my way to the theatre through the rain, and I had no umbrella. I dried off at the theatre and then started my preparation for the show. 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