A New Year

Greetings.

I hope 2012 has begun with a flourish. And may this year be everything wonderful for you and yours.

I am determined to post every day for the year of 2012. I've made this claim before; however, I feel like I will do it this year. Granted I've already missed five days so far. But I opine that it will be easier to post everyday this time.

A few updates since the last time I posted.

The Kids are Pissin' on the Front Lawn went along with a wonderful production. The play itself was well attended (probably an understatement, we had to add chairs two of the three nights), and I heard plenty of beautiful statements about it.

I'd like to speak a little bit about an experience I had during intermission of the performance:

I nod to a patron who was entering the theater probably a few moments before the intermission was ending.

She hesitates, continues walking and then turns back to me.

'It is like you've been inside my dreams or read my diary,'

I laugh. Laughter is a defense mechanism you know.

'It is truly...' she stops and walks back towards her seat.

I have been replaying this encounter over and over in my head. I was too caught up in the...something to truly appreciate her comment. And now, I'm not sure who she was, or who she was there to see, or what. No idea how I could speak to her again. To actually communicate with her.

I guess this meant more to me then nearly everything else. To hear that this play, this clamoring heap of a play, connected to her in a completely tangible, perhaps frightening way for her. That perhaps this play may have come along at a time when she needed to hear it. The way many works have come along at a time when I needed to hear it. To hear that I wasn't the only person who felt some of these feelings.

I am drawn to a quote by David Foster Wallace. He said "This is nourishing, redemptive; we become less alone inside."