Dropped down from the sky

A dream dropped down from the sky for me last week. A little bit of perfection, arriving in a phone call. That Darling Casting Director, who has literally been resuscitating my artistic soul, called to say she was putting together a cast for six week Equity Contract in San Francisco, and I was the missing piece of the puzzle: would I come join the work?

No audition, no hustle, no seeking or straining or muscling. The phone rings and the landscape of my life gracefully, gratefully changes. A little tiny dream come true.

And now my datebook is filled with rehearsals and my head is filled with lines and characters, and my world is filled with actors and directors and playwrights; designers and technicians; marketers and administrators and producers: new friends all.

The Darling Casting Director is the only one in this new world who knows what my past year has looked like. And so far I'm keeping it that way. It is a little odd, to sit with these new people, laughing and cracking jokes, and think, "You don't know about Pedro and Archer. How can I allow anyone to not know about Pedro and Archer? Am I betraying them, leaving them behind as I dance off in an artistic reverie?" But it feels oddly good, too. It is the first time since their birth that I am allowing myself to be defined as anything other than a woman struggling with loss or a woman struggling to start a family. I suspect it may be the beginning of that elusive goal: integration.

Just like that. Dropped down from the sky.