Rehearsals, losses, gratitude and sounds

Rehearsals began today; we go up in a week and a half.  Time for the grind.  I offered to sound design the show as well, which should be fairly straightforward.  Just made a preliminary cue sheet, there are only a few places that are going to be tricky.  Plus it's some extra cash, so that's nice.  The day after the show closes, I move into a new place.  That'll be nice.

Thanksgiving was great, got to spend some quality time with family.  If there was a breathalyzer test for butter levels, I doubt I'd pass.  Thought about everything I'm thankful for in the past year.  Friends, family, second chances, art, love.  Acting in the face of fear.  Knowing when I'm wrong.  Embracing imperfections.  Also dogs.  Dogs are great.

Something surreal happened last night.  I was in a theatre class in high school with this wonderful guy named Conor.  We had a scene together from Death of a Salesman; I played Biff, he played Willy, other students played Linda and Happy.  The scene was primarily a dialogue between Biff and Linda, talking about Willy and how he's losing it.  Conor had maybe one line.  He then walked away through the aisles, up through the audience, lost.  It was incredibly powerful, and my favorite moment from high school drama.  It hammered home the idea that I don't have to be big and performative to be effective.  Remaining open and vulnerable, living honestly in the circumstances, that was enough.  He did that masterfully.

I found out last night Conor passed away.  Multiple students from our high school have died, but this was the first one to go that I was on more than familiar terms with.  He was in an amazing relationship, did incredible work with the Boys and Girls Club, last I heard he was in law school.  Young, nice guy.  

Makes me think about what we leave behind when we go.  Have I worked hard enough?  Have I loved enough?  What do I do from here on out?   How do I create my masterpiece?

Tonight I call the people I love.  Then back to work.