When it rains...

Life right now can bite it a little bit. The past month has been an emotional hell for me, up and down (mostly down), and here at the end of it, I feel drained of everything.


Starting off with the passing of one of my college professors. Homer Wayne Tracy was my dance teacher, musical director, choreographer, advice giver, and through the years had become a dear friend. He passed away on Saturday, May 19 peacefully in his sleep. He had been battling inoperable colon cancer for the past year, going through chemo and battling the various illnesses that come from having a weakened immune system. 


I honestly don't remember my first encounter with Homer, it was probably in his Theater 101 class. I just remember him being there. I tech'd his musicals, took his classes, went to his house for cast parties, went to Woody's with him for lunch, and got to know him through being with him nearly every day of the week. 


I stage managed for Homer for the first time when he did 'The Secret Garden' and it is still one of my favorite shows that I have done to this day. I was nervous as hell in the beginning, scared of all the responsibility, being in charge of keeping the actors happy and in order, and making sure that I was going to put on the show that Homer wanted and doing it the way he wanted it to be done. I had many doubts about my abilities... but Homer didn't. He never made me feel like I didn't belong there or that he should have picked someone else to be his right hand man (woman). I'm not saying he didn't get angry or upset at me, or I with him, but at the end of the day and at the end of each rehearsal, hugs were given, love was spoken, and we usually went and had a drink at his house. 


That's how it was with Homer. He could infuriate you, he could sometimes be unprepared and disorganized and be counting on you to fix it, he could drink too much and become a little bitch queen as we used to call it... but you couldn't help but love him because he was always honest about exactly who he was: a flawed human being. He would argue with you, and then laugh with you all in the span of ten minutes. He loved his friends with everything he had in him, and that's why he wasn't afraid to say when he thought something was wrong. He could make you laugh and he could make you roll your eyes with how ridiculous he wasn't afraid of being. 


And now he's gone.


Homer's house is down the street from my apartment. I could walk there in five minutes if I wanted. I used to sit on my couch and wonder what he was doing, five minutes away in his own place, living his own life. 


I miss my friend.


An absolutely beautiful memorial celebration was held in his honor. My emotions were borderline hysterical that day, it took everything I had in me to not break down into a puddle of sobbing, wailing grief in the middle of that church. Looking back though, my two favorite parts were the middle and the end. The middle was where people got up and shared their memories of Homer. It was amazing to hear stories from his older friends because it showed that he was the same wonderful person throughout his entire life. I laughed when they spoke because I could either picture it in my head as exactly something he would do, or I had a similar memory of my own. It was extremely heart-lifting. 


My second favorite part, which is actually my most favorite, was the end of the service. Homer had a Finale, ladies and gentlemen. Everyone in the church stood up and sang the chorus of, "Let the Sunshine In" from the musical, 'Hair' and it was the perfect send-off. I sang what I could, tears getting in the way of my voice at times. But the feeling in that place with everyone singing this joyous statement out into the universe, is one that I will never ever forget. I remember that I looked over and in the front row on the opposite side of the church aisle was another of my professors, Jim Moreton. I watched in awe as he swayed his hands back and forth, singing along with tears shining in his eyes, and a smile on his face. It was the one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. In that moment I was so grateful to have known this person that affected so many people, and so thankful that he had taken the time to make me feel important and cared for.


The first week was hard. I had a lot more grief than I expected and I didn't know how to handle it all. Songs reminded me of him, memories flooded my brain and wouldn't leave. I found an old voicemail that he had left me during our last show and that seemed to make everything fresh and new. But as they say, it gets better with time, and I'm ok with that.

my friend and I got balloons for people to write messages on, then we sent them up to him :)

I also wanted to include the lyrics to this song. Homer's friend, Sally Wilfert, sang this at the memorial, a beautiful song titled Anytime written for her by composer William Finn. I'll shamelessly plug it and say you should download it on iTunes. :)

Anytime you laugh
Anytime you cry
Anytime you hear a sound
When you're on the grass
Lying on the ground
Anytime you wash your hands
I'll be around

I'm out there on the baseball field 
Though I'm well concealed 
I'll be out there cheering
I'm out there in the books you read
It is guaranteed I'm not disappearing fast
Anytime, no not anytime

And I am there each morning
I am there each fall
I am present without warning
And I'm watching it all
Yes I'm watching it all

I am there in music
I am there in sky
I don't know why this thing did happen
But this much is clear
Anytime or anywhere
I am there

Anytime you pray
Anytime you fight
Anytime you gained a pound
Anytime its day
Anytime it's night
Anytime the earth moves 

 
I'll be around
I'm out there in the maple trees
In a summer breeze
On a perfect evening
I'm out there when you celebrate
When the world seems great
I'll be waiting by your side
Anytime, yes anytime 

And I am there each morning
I am there each fall
I am present without warning
And I'm watching it all
Yes I'm watching it all

I am there in flowers
I am there in snow
I don't know why this thing happened
But this much is clear
Anytime you cry
Anytime you sing
For anything

And I am there each morning
I am there each fall
I don't know why this thing happened
But this much is clear
Be aware
I am there
I am there
I am there
I am there
I am there
I am there
I am there

On this, our day of Independence...

Today's mission was to do something that made me peaceful/happy. I wasn't able to fall asleep until 8am, so I didn't wake up until 2pm. I got up, showered, indulged my girly side and put on a dress, some makeup and a pretty necklace. I packed a bottle of water, made a sandwich, put my headphones in, then walked out the door. Chris is in Louisville so I don't have a car, but the tree park is only a few blocks from our apartment so that's where I went.

For being so close to home, it's a shame that I don't go there more often. It was hot out, but the trees provided enough shade that it averaged out to the perfect summer day. I pulled out my phone and just started taking pictures of the pretty things I saw and just absorbed all of the green around me.

It was wonderful.

When I sat down to eat my sandwich, another guy walking around started making his way towards me. I'm not much for strangers approaching me, I have trouble enough when people come up to order their drinks from me at work, but today was my day to open up to the world so I smiled and said hello when he waved at me.

He turned out to be one of the sweetest old men I've met. We talked about how he lied about his age so that he could get a job when he was in high school to help out his family. Once he had the job, which of course was very low level so it didn't pay much, he found out who the manager was and just walked right up to him, introduced himself and told him that he could do the job of the men he'd seen that were paid more than him. He got it, of course, and worked there for 51 years before retiring. Absolutely lovely. We talked about how he had two grandchildren and that they "made him young." He told me where he and his wife lived and that if there was ever a time that I was lost or needed help, I had his address. I'm so glad that I talked to him, that I didn't shut down and zone into my iPod so that he would get the point and walk away. It was such an honest human connection, I was slightly taken aback. I wish I had that kind of pluck, to see someone sitting on a park bench and want to walk up to them and have a conversation.

I walked around some more after that, taking a few more pictures, then made my way home. I think my goal of the day was accomplished, which is good. I came home hot, slightly sweaty, and mostly content with the day. I took a little nap, fixed some dinner and watched more West Wing. Nothing fancy or too exciting about the day, but it was an extremely satisfying day, and that's what I need more of.

On another note, I was watching a video of Martin Sheen on Inside the Actor's Studio and he recited this poem by Rabindranath Tagore which I found extremely inspiring:

Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high

Where knowledge is free

Where the world has not been broken up into fragments

By narrow domestic walls

Where words come out from the depths of truth

Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection

Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way

Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit

Where the mind is led forward by thee

Into ever-widening thought and action

Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.

Happy Independence Day.

Starting from nowhere

First post.

I don't even really know why I'm doing this. It seemed like a good idea when I saw that button that said, "Create Blog." I've always wanted to be able to write regularly in a journal, but have never been able to keep up with it. I would stay on the ball for a few days or weeks at a time, then my brain would get in the way. I would get to a point where my brain would start saying, "Why are you doing this? Who cares about what's going on in your life (which isn't anything special, by the way) enough to waste their time reading about it?" With that came a feeling of selfishness, and eventually I would just stop completely, more dejected than when I started out.

However, I've come to the conclusion that I need to do something. My life has become a complete bore in the worst way and I'm slowly falling apart inside. There are good things. Chris is a very good thing, and Noun Comma Cat is a complete joy. Sadly though, the bad things outweigh the good right now. My job blows. Seriously. I work with wonderful people, they are what get me through the day, but the work itself is mundane and unchallenging. I'll have been there for 3 years in October, and I feel I've absorbed everything I can from the place. I don't want to move up anymore than I already have, so I've plateaued and that makes it really fucking boring. BUT! Like all of us, I need money, and jobs are tight these days. So I stay... and my soul feels like its being crushed.

I also haven't done any sort of theatre in over a year. This is the thing that bothers me the most. I decided to break the ties between me and my former college theatre, not auditioning for anything they did this year. And while I think it was healthy for me to break free from that too comfortable situation, I forgot one thing: The town I live in doesn't have any other options for theatre. Lexington, the next town north from me, has much more going on, but the travel is a little out of my means seeing as I don't have my own car and would have to pay for the gas to commute back and forth. I'm tired of hearing that if I really wanted to do it, I would find a way. That I would borrow cars and save extra pennies for gas and everything would work out and happily ever after is just around the corner. Bullshit. I haven't been making enough at my job to pay my rent and utilities, let alone save extra money for trips to Lexington and back.

So I feel stuck, and that's putting it lightly. I don't feel like I experience anything anymore, I just go through my day, my routine, then come home. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. I want to do more. I want to be more. But instead I'm in the good-for-nothing town that has little value to me and I think I'm here for the foreseeable future.

I guess I started this thing just to get it all out of my head. I don't communicate verbally very well. My mouth loses all memory of how to speak whenever I get angry or sad and it's the best clam impression to be seen. But typing... that I can do. I don't know what makes it different, but I can type out everything I have ever felt before I say one word, that's just how I work.

I want to be happy, in all aspects of life, not just a few. I want to drive away from this place without even looking in the rearview mirror. And I think writing it all down, getting it out and feeling that release, is a good place to start.