The Evolution of a Dream

 Hello! Me again. I know it has been a while. I seem to be saying that every time I write a post now. I know I've said this before, but when I started this blog, I told myself that I would only write when I was inspired. That is not the same as saying I ALWAYS write when I'm inspired, because I don't because, well, you know, life and stuff, but today's topic is probably the most inspiration of all the inspiring things in my life to write about, my passion for the theatre. I knew from age 3 that I wanted to perform in some way. As a child growing up in the 60s, I was hugely into TV. I had a little wooden rocking chair that I would sit in right in front of the television. Cartoons were big for me, Bugs Bunny especially. If you have never seen Bugs Bunny, we are no longer friends, just kidding, but stop reading right now, and go search for an episode, in fact, I'll save you the trouble.

Rabbit Of Seville (1950) from Stephen Rae on Vimeo.

.Now, I still, at 60, find this extremely funny, but if you noticed, the entire cartoon is set to the music from the Opera, The Barber of Seville, by Rossini. Of course, what Bugs is singing are not the original lyrics, but the music is the real deal. It was not composed for this cartoon. It was written in the1800s. This cartoon, and there are others that used classical music, gave me my intro to the genre expanding my knowledge of music beyond nursery rhyme songs and popular music. Because I watched so much TV and listened to so many different kinds of music in my house, I would often imitate or act out what I saw, and thus began my love of performing. As I grew older, I still watched cartoons, but I also was a huge fan of the Jackie Gleason Show and the Carol Burnette Show, and more and more I knew that this was what I wanted to do with my life. I sang my first solo in front of people, well, not family, in kindergarten, Away in a Manger, for the Christmas Pageant. Then in 2nd grade, I was the Teeny Weeny Bean in Mr. MacGregor's garden complete with green tights and green bean hat and solo. In 4th grade I changed it up and decided to do a "straight" play (for all you non-theatre people, that means a play without music). I was the Shoemaker's wife in The Shoemaker and the Elves. I don't remember much about the part, but I do remember she was kind of sassy, and I got laughs. I promise I am not going to recount my entire performance resume for the last 50+ years, but just indulge me one more. My drama teacher at St. Catherine's School, Ms. Buis, had directed The Shoemaker and the Elves, and she told me about a local professional theater that was having auditions for The Music Man and needed someone my age and suggested I audition, and that, my fabulous humans, is where I was bit by the bug, and I have never stopped scratching for the last 50 years. I was cast as Amaryllis (that's me in the Big Bow),

and it was one of the coolest things I had ever done, and I loved it, and when it was over, I just wanted to keep doing more and more. That was my dream. That's what I wanted to do with my life, and I did, and they all lived happily ever after, right? WRONG! Far from it. Oh, I'm still connected to the theatre, and I still act, and have done so pretty consistently for the last 50 years, but I don't do it for a living. Very few actors have that luxury, so why am I telling you this story? Theatre has brought a lot of great things into my life. In fact, I would not have my 2 children if it were not for theatre because I met their father doing a show. I went on to act professionally and non-professionally all through school and in my freshman year in High School I did the show Godspell, and I became best friends with the guy playing Jesus. We stayed friends for months, but he wanted more. I did not, but, eventually, after spending almost every free moment together for about a year, something changed, and he became the love of my life, and my dream changed a little. I still wanted to act, but I was more focused on my relationship, and plans for my future with the man I loved. We ended up getting married 6 months after I graduated, and my dream changed. I still wanted to act, but I was more focused on being a good wife, and as my husband was very talented musically, we began to sing together, and then we were in a band, and then 2, and I was mostly singing back-up to him, but we were building that dream together, and theatre kind of took a back seat. My husband was a songwriter, and he was really good, and I really thought the band was making headway, and we were going somewhere. By this time, about 14 years after we were married, we had 2 beautiful daughters (2 and 5). This was my new dream, to have the band we were in become our source of income and to tour with our little family. What could be better, right? Apparently not all people in the little family were on board that ship, and I'm not talking about the 2 & 5 year old. When our band was just on the cusp of actually breaking out, and we were really gaining traction, I found out that the love of my life, my husband of 15+ years, and the father of my children was having an affair. Not only was this devastating to me, but it was especially problematic as he held a part time job as a minister of youth and music at our church, and the band that he was front man for, you know the one we were all in, was a Christian Band. Add to that, that I had made part of my evolved dream being a stay-at-home Mom to our 2 girls with only $100.00/month income as a pre-school music teacher, and that made it impossible for me to leave, and I couldn't tell anybody or he would lose his church job and maybe his main job because he was having an affair with one of his employees. For 5 months I was on an emotional roller coaster trying to be a better wife because why else would he have turned to someone else, right? STOP RIGHT THERE! (insert sound of screeching brakes) If you are reading this, and you are in a marriage or long term relationship, and your partner cheats on you, IT IS NEVER YOUR FAULT!!!!! Say it again, so the people in the back can hear! A partner cheating on you is NOT YOUR FAULT! Was I a perfect wife? No. Did we have issues and arguments? Sure. Should we have been better communicators? Absolutely, but does that justify someone sleeping with another person while they are still sleeping with you, and lying about it, and gaslighting you when you think you know what's going on, and making you feel guilty for even suspecting that? NO! Do I believe people's feelings change in a relationship? I suppose that's possible. Mine didn't which is what made things so hard, and made it that much easier to take the responsibility for all of that. If that does happen, and people fall out of love with their partner, they owe them the respect and decency of saying they want out before they move on. Would that be painful and devastating? Damn right it would, but at least the humiliation and betrayal would not be a part of the equation. Add to all of this that I had to pretend at church and with the band that everything was fine. We were still the golden couple with the 2 adorable children. But, as it is with all secrets, they can't be kept for long. The affair had not ended, and things blew up, and he decided to "make things work" with me. I was elated. I was so glad to have my husband back. We renewed the lease on our townhouse for another year, and three weeks later the girls and I went to the beach with another mom with 2 daughters, and when we came home after 4 days away, he was gone. He left me a letter telling me I needed to get my act together if I was smart, and that I had ruined his ministry. He left his job, (both of them), and we had no idea where he was for almost a month. He took the only car we had that was functional, and every cent in our checking account leaving no money to cover the checks that had been written and sent to pay bills (this was back in 1998, no online bill pay or banking). Luckily, my parents had space for us to move in, and my landlords were great about letting me out of the lease. I had no job to speak of, no money and no car, and a 2 and 5 year old to raise. Well, that blew that dream all to hell, and every other dream with it. At the age of 34, I had to start my adult life completely over. Don't check out yet. If this were a weekly episodic television show, this would be the end of the season cliffhanger. I won't leave you on the ledge, though. New dream: Make sure that I raise strong, independent women that know they are loved. Teach them to be honest with me always, even when it's difficult, and promise to be the same way with them, and make sure they are well provided for. Encourage them and guide them with their dreams and what they want, and to be kind and respectful to other people. I pretty much did that with the help of a whole lot of friends and wonderful support from my family. They are both grown and following dreams of their own. All of that happened almost 26 years ago. I never remarried. I never even had a relationship with anyone else. It just wasn't part of the plan. They were my focus. As we settled into our new life, I slowly got back into the theatre, and began to find that first dream again, although slightly altered. I got some amazing roles through their school years, and they were so supportive of me and still are. My dream had always involved being on stage. I did not want to direct. I just wanted to perform, but as I began to age, there were fewer and fewer opportunities for onstage work, so I thought I'd try directing. I directed a group of high schoolers in a production of Anything Goes, and I loved it. I loved watching a kid realize they were actually good at this acting thing. I adored being able to watch that love that I knew so well bloom in them. I wanted to direct more. Easier said than done. I was not an established director, and few theaters in town were going to take a chance on me. I continued to pick up a few roles here and there, and then, I got the role of a lifetime. I was cast as Della Brady in The Cake at Richmond Triangle Players, and it was the most satisfying, challenging, joyful experience of my career. I knew I would never have another role like this, and I told myself that if I were never cast in anything again, I could be satisfied with that because I had achieved a dream. How little I knew then how prophetic those words would become. The Cake closed in March of 2020, and we all know what happened the end of March. The world shut down. None of us knew if live theatre would ever be a thing again. I think that's when my dream really changed. I knew that if we ever came out of the Pandemic that I wanted theatre to be a part of my life on a daily basis. What I really wanted was to buy some place and start my own theatre. I wanted it to be a place where people could create great things together and realize their true potential and work on something they loved and were passionate about. I know, I know, that's a huge dream, and it would require winning the lottery! I tend to do that. I get an idea, and it just keeps ballooning into something that is impossible right away. I am still getting used to trying to take baby steps. I decided I would start with an acting studio and coach students one-on-one, and thus Amaryllis Studios was born.

Logo designed by Georgi Dysert

I started out with one student, and then I gained another, and I was actually living part of my dream and making a supplemental income doing something I loved. And then 3 1/2 months ago, my youngest daughter and a small group of friends decided we were going to work together to do a show this summer. And guess what? We are! Amaryllis Studios is actually producing a show under the Creative Wing of Vienna Waits Creatives - a whole other post for a different time from a guest blogger, stay tuned. So many friends are helping for no pay because they love the theatre like I do. It's a musical called CHESS, and we have held auditions, and it's cast, and we begin rehearsals next week. This is the dream, folx! It is happening. Is it the one I had at age 10? No, but there's still a part of the little Amaryllis' dream. That's why she's my logo. She planted the seed all those years ago, and life watered it sometimes, and it went unfed sometimes, and then it flourished with different blooms, and now it has evolved into what it was always meant to be. It's not a theater yet, but I know in my heart of hearts that it will be. What is meant for you will never pass you by. I hope that you found value in my story, and that it may have helped you in some way to see the light at the end of the tunnel, or pursue the dream you have. Surround yourself with people that will love that dream into being. It can happen. It has for me, and I know it will for you too. You deserve it! We all do!

If you have been inspired by this story or you want to be a part of this dream, I have launched a Kickstarter called 6 Weeks til Show. This is the summer theatre program that I want to offer every summer to people who want to follow their passion and have a place where they might get that opportunity. I totally get it if you can't contribute, but if not, would you please share to get the word out? I would be so grateful. We all succeed when we lift each other up.

Check on Your Strong Friends!

Last weekend I was not in a good place. A little background in case you don't know me. I am a strong person. I "keep it together!" I am great in a crisis for that very reason. I may fall apart afterwards when I am alone, and no one else needs me, but in the middle of the chaos, you can count on me. To be sure, I am an emotional person, but when I let myself be. I often say that the reason I get so overcome and cry at movies and television shows, heck, even commercials, is because that is my release. In my real life I am the rock. Now, I think part of this is due to the fact that I have been a single mom since my girls were 2 and 5. They are now 24 and 27. When you are a single parent, you learn to put yourself on the back burner. This is not a complaint, just a statement of fact. If you are a single parent reading this, you know exactly what I mean. There is no one to "take care" of you emotionally or physically. We are the text book definition of "walk it off." I think the period of raising my children alone certainly honed my "keep it together" skills. However, they did not begin with single parenthood. I can remember when my grandfather died in 1993. I was 19, and I was extremely close to him. His death rocked me. I have a thing about not looking at dead bodies of people. I have an extremely visual memory, and I DO NOT want THAT to be the image I hold of my loved one forever. I was married at the time of my grandfather's funeral, but my husband was singing for the service and not with me in the private family room. The time came when the funeral director comes and asks the family if they want one last look before they close the casket. My mother and father filed out, and I cannot remember who else. I stayed behind, and then I heard my mother yelling for my grandfather to get up and sing with her. No one was making her stop or come away, so I walked out trying my best to not look into the casket, and I pulled my mother away and back into the private room, "keeping it together." When my own father passed away many years later in 2007, my children were young, and him being the only "father" with a constant presence in their lives, they were devastated when he died. I was too, but it is "my job" to "keep it together." I sat in between the two of them trying my best to comfort them. I'm not saying I didn't shed tears, but I kept it together. I am telling these stories to illustrate the fact that I don't usually fall apart, not when it counts, not when I am needed. Last weekend, I sat in my house, alone, and ugly cried for about 30 minutes. I mean wailing! The last time I remember doing that was last July when my sweet kitty of 18 years died. Even then I could not give myself time to grieve because I had to "pull myself together" as it was my first day with my summer teen theatre group. Why am I sharing all of this? Because we are in the middle of the craziest, most depressing time in my 56 almost 57 year old life. Theatre, one of my passions, is cancelled for the foreseeable future. I have not seen my 81 year old mother, who lives in a skilled nursing facility, since March 9 and have no idea when I will see her again, and even when I will be able to visit, how safe it will be. My sister moved to Florida permanently at the beginning of June, and I miss her, and I am concerned about the lack of following rules for the Pandemic, especially in her state, and the absolute disregard for human life in this country, whether it be something so small as refusing to wear a mask to protect others or as huge as the rampant racist police brutality so prevalent in America and the blatant show of hate to anyone different than ourselves. My heart is broken, and I fell apart! So, during this time, take care of yourself. Let yourself grieve and mourn the loss of life the way you knew it, but especially, check on your "strong" friends. They may need it more than you think.

And So, Here I Am Again.

I am relatively sure that if a survey were taken of several hundred people asking them to list 10 things they feel uncomfortable or embarrassed doing, I would bet that asking for help would appear somewhere on that list. No one wants to ask for help. It starts when we are little and learning to walk. We want to do it ourselves. Then in grade school we don't raise our hand to ask a question or say that we don't understand the material for fear of being judged or thought of as stupid. As we become adults we find it hard to ask for help when we are struggling because society has taught us that we must learn to stand on our own 2 feet. Asking for any kind of help is hard, but when money is the issue, it becomes unbearable! 

Almost exactly a year ago I found myself in a situation I never thought I would be in. I had been diagnosed with a brain tumor, technically a pituitary tumor, but it was in the middle of my brain, so brain surgery was required. I had lost ALL of my peripheral vision because the tumor was pressing on my optic nerves. I had no idea how I was going to afford the astronomical medical costs and loss of wages that having this surgery would cause. And before you ask, yes I do have insurance, but 30% of a $229,000 hospital bill, even when it is cut down to the "reasonable and customary" charge was something this single mom could not even fathom of how to come up with the money to pay. I am not an extravagant person. I never really have been, but when I became the single mother of 2 girls ages 2 and 5, frugal became my middle name. I have no savings as eating was more important to us. We rarely take vacations because we can't afford them. I am not saying all this to solicit a pat on the back. I want to share that I am not a frivolous person when it comes to money. See, there's that fear of being judged rearing it's ugly head. Last year my youngest daughter started a GoFundMe page to help with my medical expenses and to help with my loss of wages while I was recovering. I was humbled to say the least. Friends and strangers came to my aid. I was so grateful. Never in a million years would I have thought last year that I would be going through all this again, but I am. The Reader's Digest version is that there was some of the tumor left. When the neurosurgeon describes the tumor as "huge" you know it must have been a bear. I knew that eventually I might have to have that removed if it grew, but about a month ago I was devastated to learn that I had now developed a cyst in the same area, and it is already affecting my vision. This has changed everything. I was planning to wait so I could save up vacation and sick time to avoid loss of wages. Maybe I could save a little money or get a part time job to bank some to help with expenses, but now I am right back in the same boat and can't do either of those things because of the quick pace at which we have to move to get the tumor and cyst out. My surgery is scheduled for November 2nd. Added to that they are doing the procedure this time with an "inter-operative MRI" to make sure ALL of the tumor is gone before I come out of the operating room. I found out today that because of that I will need an additional MRI before I go into surgery to make sure that process runs smoothly. I am still trying to find the money to pay for the MRI done last summer that revealed the cyst. Just to give you an idea, each MRI costs me $750.00. The hospital bill will cost into the thousands, and because of recovery time, I may lose anywhere from $500.00 to $1000.00 in wages, not to mention that last year my "disability" income did not even get approved until well after I had returned to work. As we all know, bills don't wait. they are due when they are due. I'm not going to go on and on, and I am not trying to make this sound like a sob story. The long and short of it is that I am asking for help again. I wish I didn't have to, and if I win Publisher's Clearing House, I will make sure to let everyone know and give any GoFundMe money to charity, but until that happens, I will need money to hopefully get this thing in my brain to leave and STAY GONE this time. 

I know so many of you that read this blog helped me last time, and I will never be able to tell you how grateful I was and still am. Let me say thank you in advance to anyone who chooses to help now, and my greatest wish is that some day I will be in the financial position to pay it forward 1000 times over. The link to the page is above, but I will post it here again. Thank you. I love you all!

https://www.gofundme.com/b26dhnqu# 

Time for the Pay Off

In 3 days I will do something I have never done before. Before thoughts of exciting adventures like skydiving or bungee jumping fill your head, let me enlighten you. I will attend a college graduation. I am 52 years old, and I have never attended a college graduation. I did not attend college, nor did my sister, my parents before me or their parents. No one in our family has ever attended college until now.
A little back story: Almost 18 years ago, I became a single Mom of 2 & 5 year old daughters. That, in itself, was daunting. I had no job, no car and no money. I had to move out of the townhouse we had been renting and into my parent's basement. I went on welfare and food stamps until I could find a job. As a little tip, don't ever get into a conversation with me about government assistance and the only people who use it are too lazy to get a job. In a short amount of time I did get a job, luckily, but it still didn't pay enough to get out on my own, so forget any kind of savings. Thinking about college for either of my girls was out of the question. In reflecting on that time I will often say, it was either eat or save for college. We chose to eat. My girls grew up knowing that if they didn't get free rides with scholarships, they weren't going to college, plain and simple. It was that way until about 10 years ago. I started working at a private university. One of the benefits of working here is free tuition for me and my dependents. There have been lots of bumps in the road. What I do is not my dream job, not even close, and many times over the 10 years I have thought, I can't do this. I'm just going to find another job, but I stayed. Sunday afternoon is the big pay off. My oldest girl will walk across the stage, and because I work here, I will get to hand her her diploma making her a college graduate with a degree in Theatre Arts. It doesn't get much more "worth it" than that!

Something I Almost Missed

When I was a teenager I never did the babysitting thing. If people I knew had new babies I never wanted to hold them. I didn't work in the nursery at church or help with the little kids Sunday school classes. I just didn't have any desire to be around children. I really thought I would never have kids. It just wasn't my thing. In fact before I was married I considered taking care of things permanently to never have children. I didn't take that step, thank God! I waited a while after I was married, almost 10 years, but I did finally actually want a child. I'm not sure if I've ever shared this before here, but I lost my first baby to a miscarriage, but luckily I did get pregnant again and about 40 weeks later I had a little girl, then 3 1/2 years after that another little girl. The teenager who didn't want any children was now a woman in her early 30's with 2. In 1992 and then again in 1996 I became a mother. Then, as life does sometimes, I was thrown a curve ball, and in 1998 I became a single mother. This thing that I started out never wanting to do at all I was now doing alone. Today is Mother's Day. A day set aside to honor those who gave us life, but this post is about honoring those who gave me a life worth living. Being a parent is hard work. Don't ever let anyone tell you anything different. It is the most important job in the world because, in essence, you hold the future in your hands. The  people you create and bring into this world will watch and learn from you. They'll pattern their behaviors after what they've seen you do. They'll treat people the way you raise them to, and they'll value and love themselves only if you treat them as valued and loved. You never stop being a parent. It is a tireless job 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year, but I would not trade it for anything! I am not rich. I do not have a high paying corporate job. I do not have a beach house in Malibu. In fact I haven't taken a real vacation in almost 10 years. Some people would look at those statistics and pity how unsuccessful I am at 50, but they would be so wrong. I have something so much more than material success. I have raised two amazing daughters, daughters that I know will make their mark in the world! Hell, they already have by the way they treat people in their everyday lives and the impact they have had on everyone they come in contact with. They are my legacy. They are my success! I have poured everything I am into being the best Mom and Dad that I can be. Am I the perfect parent? No, I have made tons of mistakes along the way, but I try to admit them and move on. I could not ask for a better relationship with both of my girls. We talk. Nothing fancy or ground shaking here. We talk. I treat them like people, and have always been honest with them and valued their input and opinions on whatever level they could offer them. More times than I can count they were teaching me something rather than the other way around. And as they continue through life and maybe become mothers themselves one day I pray that they will have the same awesome experience they have given me. I will be forever grateful for the privilege and honor of being their Mom and thrilled that life didn't work out the way I had originally planned.