The show opened tonight.
The critics sat in the front row.
The director was not in the room.
My heart was buried somewhere in the dirt.
The show moved mountains that turned them to dust in which the gravediggers used to bury the monsters of the past that morphed into memories of redemption.
There was a moment during our last work day where Ralph and John were both standing…right before they were both about the run up to the crow’s nest for the 100th time of the day to change yet another cue…but it was the moment before… and there was this beauty. And I felt as if all was right with the world. I felt completely confident with having amazing people to work beside and create beside.
As I ran the cues tonight it occurred to me the the compilation of music on once scene, while Charles did create it, the order of it and use of it was by accident during a rehearsal in which i was playing around with some sounds and Frank decided he wanted to keep it. So it occurred to me… I’m not only a stage manager. I have touched this show beyond that. I have touched this show as a theater artist too.
Hours before opening night we cut yet another song. It was bittersweet. I loved the song. But I love what the show is now. It is poetry, Frank. It was a challenging journey…and all of our hands are dirty and my body is tired but strong and throughout it all, we hum the poem.
Ralph asked if I had ever worked in a union shop before. I asked what was that. He said, that probably meant I hadn’t before. A union shop, I supposed would be me being an equity stage manager, with health benefits, following strict rules that would make the world a better place.
No. I never have. My work ethic comes from my life ethic. It comes from two years of working in hospitality. Eight years of working costumer service. Thirteen years of religion. Twenty three years of spirituality and humanity. It comes from knowing that what matters is respect, love, and honor above all else. It also comes from my mother. Teaching me organization, problem solving, creative thinking, patience, multi-tasking. It comes from yoga, breathing, and probably majoring in communications where I studied rhetoric and learned how to get what i want when i need it but not at the detriment of manipulating everything.
What does this have to do with anything? Boneyard Prayer is mine now. It is mine and Natalia’s and Brandon’s, Kasey’s, Alice, Alex, and Maegan. It is our show now. We own the night. It is also Rob’s.
We have had amazing people in our rehearsals. In our tech. Shaping and directing and assisting to make the most poetic thing I’ve seen since Secret in the Wings at Lookingglass and The Beautiful and the Damned at some theater in London. This process has been gruesome. Reckless. Gutful. Dirty. Messy. Trying.
And we have maintained our cooled. We have honored one another. We have respected each other. And because Frank was wise enough to cast and hire on personality and soul first before talent and qualifications… we are able to smile and love and trust one another and still yearn to find ways to connect.
I have never known an artistic endeavor like this one. I had an inkling that working at Redmoon would be one of those moments that would affect me. I had no clue it would change me. Alter me. Shift me. Touch me.
What I love is that each show…because we have five shows a week…but each show will be a new show. Each time Kasey sings the prologue, it will be the first time. I look forward to the story each night.
Tonight it was about redemption. Last night it was about regret.
Frank told us to do the show for someone we loved tonight. It reminds me of my dedications before yoga. Tonight I dedicated the show to James Pyles and Nate McCrary.
I dedicate it to James. To the other half of my soul that lies six feet beneath the dirt in Owen Sound.
I dedicate it to Nate. My personal muse who inspires me to create galaxies because we all are gods.
I once said that too many of the people I love call the dirt their home. Tonight, because of the story of redemption…perhaps tonight their home can reside in my heart. Tonight maybe it doesn’t have to be so literal.
I invite everyone to see Boneyard Prayer at Redmoon. I am no salesmen, publicity manager, or groupie of shadow shows. But I invite you to this show because its an experience. If the dirt doesn’t move you. If the very earth itself doesn’t have a way of touching your soul, I honestly don’t know what will.