There's something to be said about the effect theatre can have on a person's thoughts and views of mortality. Tonight, what I thought might have been an evening of semi-sit commish dramedy, ended up stopping me in my tracks. An effect that often takes an entire chorus was achieved with just two people. Twists, turns, raw emotions, a conversation, self-indulgence, reflection, nudity, and boundless and beautiful language; in essence: life.
It made me think of my life and how Pippin-esque it often is; of how I worry and am careless; of how I value and devalue life and its many aspects at times; of how I can shut people out and yet want to let them in so badly; of how I've made both good and bad choices; of how I have, perhaps, lost touch in many ways.
Every person's theatre experience is different. Mind you, I did not attend the show alone, but the show rendered me silent our entire walk out of the theatre and back to the Port Authority.
Maybe I get too attached when I see a film or a piece of theatre, maybe I get too emotionally invested, but why not go there? Is it safe or sane? Probably not entirely. Perhaps it will have long lasting effects. Perhaps it already has, though I seriously doubt I'll find myself estranged from a wife and child and living in solitude in a crowded, dirty, ant-infested single-wide at the foothills of a mountain in Montana.
At times I am lost,
Confused,
Stuck.
I am at a crossroads.
But I fear I will not be for too much longer.
The road behind was less than easy and I am certain the road ahead will be anything but. Grant me strength, grant me peace.
Love,
Hopeful Berger
