Right now I'm working backstage at Cornerstone Productions (photos will be posted soon). The super-talented actors sing and dance Irish songs -- I'm a sucker for those anyway, but these are all choreographed in an imaginative, joyous way. You come out of the theatre feeling uplifted, and this is the way I've felt after every single Cornerstone Production I've watched. Even one I thought I was going to hate (60s songs -- I loved the hilarious way they mixed them with opera and one of the comic routines made me cry I was laughing so hard).
In this show, the actors are joined by two thirteen-year olds who have been doing Irish dancing for six and ten years, respectively; these girls take lessons and compete and hold up their socks with Sock Glue. (In competitions, it counts against you if your socks slip, or aren't on straight.)
The girls seem thrilled to be there. Before one of them goes on, she stands at the bottom of the backstage steps, smiling and singing along (quietly, so the audience can't hear her), dancing with her shoulders and feet. She's not practicing, these aren't her numbers -- it's energy and exuberance and enthusiasm. I will bring my camera on Monday; but in the meantime-- imagine her. Picture someone short (she probably hasn't quite finished growing), smiling up at that stage (and around at anyone backstage who seems excited, too), eager to get out there and dance, so eager that she's singing and dancing along.
I'm going to think of her the next time I sit down to write -- maybe I'll have her dancing attitude towards it. I used to. Now it only comes in flashes; but who knows, if I do enough yoga and take enough vitamins I can sustain it, steadily enough to finish this novel. At least I can think of her and try!
in Olde Mistick Village
March 15-16-17, 2009