self portrait challenge: on the street #3

We drove to Minneapolis on Saturday to order the letterpress invitations from boiled art. Smart and accomodating, I wanted to clap my hands with glee, so giddy was I in the idea of these invites, these little slips of creamy white paper that will fit into our personal touch ideal for our own wedding. (So much goes into the wedding machine: just go obsess on The Knot for an afternoon; I was sucked into it easily last August, creating lists of what I thought needed to go into the day, but I realize now, as long as we are content, and as long as we know to bring humor to this day, all will be blissful despite what mistakes may occur.)

On a whim, we drove by the Guthrie, where there was a farmer's market being conducted in the shadow of this great theatre and the next door Mill City Museum, ruins of Gold Flour the backdrop. It is here where I conducted this week's self portrait challenge, which is a hard one, but so wonderful to be challenged in these ways. We must stretch our creative muscle. I love that these challenges, and the ones with Angie and the one with my sister, have already made me balk: How can I possibly illustrate that?

Outside this theatre is a good place for me to find challenge. I was desperate for a job two years ago, scrambling for any opportunity, so when I was asked if I would feel comfortable directing, or co-directing the theatre program, I eagerly said yes. Had I known what I was in for, that yes might not have slipped so easily from my lips, though I look back, and I am warm with memories. Drama is drama, as I always say. K never heard so many complaints from me, frustrated with another adult, frustrated with the production, frightened at opening weekend. And so much does it consume me when we have a production on (as many witnessed with the series of photographs, those wonderful subjects that actors become) that I forget all else, forget the dinner outings, forget grading, forget falling into any kind of relaxation, except possibly on the weekend.

Now that I look to the future and have hope for another school, I do not wish to co-direct or direct a theatre program in addition to my teaching duties. It all seems too much, and I want to have a family and I want to be a part of that family. But I am happy to assist in the small ways, and I am mostly just happy to be an audience member. Theatre done well astounds me. I admire those greats that have come before, and I know that my passion lies in the quiet of the written word, not in the boisterous egocentricity that is acting and directing. I adore being an observer, to watch the scene unfold, to become a part as a listener in the dark.

Enjoy other self portraits here.