I lost track of time... for hours... several times. I woke so excited about writing that I could hardly concentrate on cleaning my room or finding breakfast. I was literally dancing and hopping and I just couldn't wait to write.
It was all part of the emotional roller coaster I've been on this entire last week. Going back to Palacios - seeing old friends, breathing life into my old life. I didn't want to leave Palacios. Though I looked forward to seeing my grandparents and brother and playing Dorothy, that was all.
Again the battle waged in my mind. Do I stay in Palacios which is a peaceful, pleasant town, live in my own house where I can write and search for a job nearby so I can eat?
Or do I return to Seguin where I have family and theater and can help out my grandparents?
I didn't know and as I locked the door on my house - wondering if my parents will end up selling it - and feeling like a homeless gypsy waif - I told myself I wasn't going to cry.
And I didn't - much.
I tried to get excited about all the doors God was opening up here. Heck, I've been in a movie since I came here. It's not a movie I'm even sure I want to watch but life in Seguin more closely resembles what I always pictured for myself.
So why was I feeling so restless?
I didn't know and the two and a half hour trip back to theater and civilization gave me plenty of time to talk to God. I talked. About everything. And then I cried for real. Long story short - I decided I wanted to know what God wanted me to do with my life. I didn't want ANYTHING to stand in the way between me and Him. If he wanted me to give up something, I didn't want it in my life. I didn't want to be controlled by fear or shame or embarrassment or opinions or sin or lust or anything that wasn't from God.
That's exactly what I told Him.
Though I didn't feel any specific answers about what He wanted me to do in my outward life, I felt calmer inwardly. If God is telling me what to do, He'll work it out. I just have to trust and obey - and even though that's not easy, God doesn't give a spirit of fear so I don't have to listen to it.
It's easy in theory anyway. But I felt much calmer that even though I don't know what he's working out - He'll work it out.
Then the next day came. The day I woke at 7:00, dancing with the thought of working on my novels. I went down to the river armed with my alphasmart and kindle. And wrote the last chapter and a half of Across the Distance. Then I came back to the house, deciding to put in 50 corrections of what I had read through the day before on my kindle into the manuscript. So I did... and lost track of time.... and saw I'd done 90... so I kept going... and lost track of time. Then I realized that I had 2 corrections left! I finished them, thinking I was getting days of work done in just a few hours. I finished.
Then thought to start formatting the manuscript, since I'd have to read through it again to make sure the formatting was right. I could check and change any little text problems I saw then. So I formatted. And lost track of time. And before I knew it, it was an hour before I had to leave for the CYT classes. Lauren and Justin came in my room - Justin describing the first day of school in the theater class. Lauren chatting about how excited she was to teach the kids. I was more nervous than excited but I worked to gather my stuff and grab a bite to eat. We had been warned that morning that only a few kids had signed up for our Monday class - most were in the Thursday class. We were preparing for the possibility that our class may not make this session. Ten minutes before we left, Sandi texted to say only one child would be there that night and she hated for us to make the drive for that. So she moved her to the other class and I went back to edit for an hour before rehearsal. CYT cancellation aside, throughout the day I kept thinking, "THIS is what I love. This is the life I want. This flowing, easy, productive writing that doesn't feel like work at all - even if I'm putting in HTML tags that should be very tedious.
I went to rehearsal, getting to see all my friends there that I hadn't seen in two weeks. It was a bit hard jumping in, making blocking notes from Emma, my understudy's, sheet. She shadowed me on stage so I got the general idea of where to go in the scenes that they blocked all last week.
I found something else out as well....
The motion sickness that I've been getting in the car, extends to the stage as well. It's bad people! I'm walking in circles, followed by a line of munchkins around and around the stage, growing bigger and bigger and skipping and getting dizzier and dizzier an sicker and sicker....
By the time I'm waving, my five circles around the stage are leaving the black curtains tilting slightly and Dorothy off just a little as she's trying to wave behind her and find the curtain opening and miss the support beam all at once.
But I got through it, laughing that that could affect me so badly.
Then - we did the twister scene. It consisted of running to imaginary storm cellars, going through an imaginary house and 'falling" onto portable stairs that are serving as a bed and house. I revive, watch random actors crossing the stage trying to figure out who's the chicken and who's the granny in the rocking chair. Cody's doing the boat and it's pretty easy to see him because of the halarious way he's pumping imaginary oars.
Then Cody and Chance grab the stairs and begin spinning it in small circles all around the stage. I'm supposed to scream and act scared.
Now. Two problems here.
One: Growing up I was informed by my mother that if I EVER screamed, she would come running. And if I was not bleeding to death or being kidnapped, I would be in very big trouble. You do not ever scream unless there is a real emergency.
Two: I was a very obedient child - at least in that department.
Three: I'm not a screamer. I rarely even screech. If you truly scare me - I sharply intake my breath and that's it.
The only times I ever remember screaming at all in my life was once in a vocal class when I was finding safe ways to do it onstage. And once when my cat shook it's head, flinging medicine into my eyes to burn them until I was blind. That time, my Mama did come running and almost sobbing herself because I scared her so badly.
So - when I scream... it hurts my voice.
The other problem was: I'm being spun in circles like those teacup rides at the fair that I used to love. And all I can think of is how weak that scream sounds and how sick I'm feeling. The house stops and I get up and "walk" to the porch. Only I feel more like staggering to the porch.
So - if Dorthy looks a little drunk on stage - that's why.
Despite abusing my voice and watching the theater whirl around me and wondering if I'm hurting the ears of the guys who are doing it - I have a blast at rehearsal. And again think, this is what I want my life to be like.
I come home and talk to my grandma... and I'm pretty sure I can't resist formatting just a little bit longer.
Then fell asleep. Hoping tomorrow would be like today.
It wasn't....
No comments:
Post a Comment