Years ago, another lifetime really, I was very into theatre. It started in high school. I was a dorky as hell freshman who decided on a whim to audition for a play and was given one of the leads. I fell in love. It also helped that the nerdy theatre kids gave me a community. They were creative, passionate, a little weird and welcomed me into their fold. I needed that at that age, just having left the cult I was raised it. I had no idea how to interact (I sometimes still falter) and the thespians totally made me feel loved and appreciated. We were all freaks and outcasts. We wore black and smelled of patchouli. It also gave me a place to channel all that teenage angst. Through the theatre dorks, I met other friends who started a club called Starving Artists, a collective of writers who would meet once a week at lunch to share our poetry, fiction and songs. I'm happy to say at least four of us are still in touch and we have all continued to be creative and follow our passions. One guy is doing comic books, another is writing and publishing academically, I'm doing my poetry and another woman is making a name for herself as a visual and performance artist. I don't know what I would have done with myself had these seeds not been sown 16 years ago.
I thought about this last night as I drove back to my aunt's house from Highways. I forgot the energy that comes with a performance. Poetry readings are very different. I usually sit in the audience before I go up, I read my poems, I get off stage, I only use my body as a mode of transportation: seat, stage, seat. Last night as I moved through my pieces I felt centered and in it. All of the performers shared that intense energy. I felt connected to every single one of them. What an intimacy. Afterwards we laughed together and shared in the afterglow. Even though I've only known these women less than a week (with the exception of Reina), I feel very connected to them. I know its the same connectedness that comes from a new lover, all that adrenaline and excitement, but nonetheless, I'm happy to be feeling it.
I was drained last night after the show and slept deeply. I'm staying in my cousin's bedroom and she has a life-sized cardboard cut-out of a certain male vampire (not Vampire Eric, alas!) at the foot of her bed. When I woke up I thought someone was really standing at the foot of the bed and sat straight up to confront him. Do not confront cardboard, it is weird.
I am excited about tonight. I love the show. I have my aunt and her friend coming tonight, two San Diego friends and one LA friend. Yay!
The Smashing Pumpkins