Why do I do this?

Why do I do this? Why have I spent over half my life involved in theatre? The last 10 days have been among the most stressful I’ve had in a couple years. I am overloaded, anxious, tired, and excited all at once. And the question I keep asking myself is: Why do I do it?

Fortunately for me I know the answer.

It’s the feeling I get when I am on stage, or sitting in a house and the energy from the crowd is something I can feel. The emotion in the house is thick and the faces I can see aren’t filled with boredom, apathy, or that spaced out look you get when you know they aren’t listening. I feel satisfied as an actress and as a director when I am pouring my guts into a moment and it is tearing my soul apart because I have become one with the struggles my character is facing, or the joy my character is feeling and I can hear the sniffles, or laughter from the house.  And that is why I do it.

Some artists have the gift of painting their emotions on canvas, or even paper. Some writers can write their pain in a story, or a script. Some teachers have the gift of passing their knowledge onto another generation through teaching. My gift is directing. Being able to read a script and have a clear vision of what I think it should look like, and sound like is my greatest skill. I’m better at that than acting, than writing, than teaching. 

Directing, transferring my vision to an audience’s eyes through script analysis, set decisions, costume decisions, emotional coaching would all be for naught if I didn’t have a crowd to appreciate my work. Some artist’s work is tangible. It can survive for years and years. My gift creates only a memory that lives in the hearts and minds of the participants and the spectators. My greatest mission as a director is to have someone say, years down the road, remember that time we went to that motherhood show and what a good time we had. It’s a long answer for a short question, but that, truly, is why I do it.