Yesterday I took Rachel to Boleros, the second to last performance of the run. As I write this, our beautiful cast has returned from the theater to begin packing their bags if they haven’t already packed them, and soon our temporary extended family will depart. How much the show grew since opening night: it became tighter, funnier, sexier. More confident. More beautiful. It is amazing to see a great show grow even stronger as the actors refine their performances. Is this a form of evolution? Do their choices on stage go through a kind of survival of the fittest that is dependent on audience reaction? Or are their performances gradually shaped by their own personal journeys towards Truth: oh, that felt more honest tonight; oh, this gesture opened up a whole new way of looking at how I am feeling about this moment; oh, when she yells at me like that a person would really be thinking this, not that. And through this process, these investigators of humanity begin to piece it all together.
We have signed the lease on a new apartment in Berkeley. It is a four-apartment building from the ’20s owned by the grand nephew of the man who originally built it, and it is big and bright and beautiful and ours! We start moving out on Friday, but, of course, the packing has already begun, and that question of “What to bring?” forces one to ask “Who am I?” and “What is important to me now?” It looks as though the futon I bought in college–though still remarkably comfortable–will be replaced by a couch. The furniture Rachel brought from St. Louis to Chicago and Chicago to San Francisco will not be making the shorter trip across the Bay. And I look at my collection of t-shirts and wonder if it is not time to say farewell to that time of my life as well. How long can a man of 27 pull of a shirt with a raygun on it?
We don’t have the luxury (or the burden) of reliving the same scenes over and over again like the actors onstage. Our gradual evolution is more complicated by the lack of such predominant constants. But it is still inspiring to see our actors begin to piece it all together. It gives me hope that one day I might come close as well.
In the meantime, our cats are pleased as punch their three feline roommates have already moved out and they are free to run around without fear of confrontation. And they don’t even know that their new apartment has its own very own stairwell (i.e. cat playground) and window seat i.e. cat beach. Are they in for a treat!