Long time, no write, amirite?!
No, seriously though, I have been meaning to sit down and start/finish this post for longer than I’ve been saying it (which has been at least a month).
Time passing at a rate hitherto undreamt of – everything a big, beautiful blur.
I guess I’ll start with the “big stuff”(TM).
First, I did a thing and you might not have gotten to see it since we didn’t livestream this one but…
Home, I’m Darling, written by Laura Wade, is one wild ride of a show.
I remember standing in my friends’ kitchen, on the phone with our director, Andrew Paulsen, both surprised and panicky about what he was offering me. I had no words. Well, not many words – mostly, “Yes, yes, thank you – thank you so much!”
Johnny certainly intrigued me, as a character.
He’s a man struggling to make a decision. He needs to communicate but he’s afraid of disrupting a life he has comfortably sunken into with the love of his life. Comfortable, until the outside world – and a crush – dirsupts his and Judy’s ‘blissful’ existence.
The material was striking, funny, awkward, and endearing.
Once the cast really came together, it was like that magic I bring up every time I get a chance.
I instantly trusted Julie’s instincts. I knew she would kill it as Judy.
Our choices aligned so well and I felt like we both had clear ideas of who Johnny and Judy were to each other. It was a comfort knowing Julie was my acting partner. I think we both assuaged one anothers anxieties about such an intense show, in terms of lines and emotions. Finding Johnny and Judy felt natural.
That being said, I had no doubts about anyone or anything in the process (other than my ability to yell with no voice thanks to some sickness that decided to try and knock me off of my feet for most of the show’s run).
And, I suppose to say I had no doubts would be a bit of a lie: I doubted my own ability to memorize so many lines… but I proved myself wrong.
Part of that was just trusting the process but an even bigger part of that was having such an amazing team/theatre family and a fiancee who was willing to stay up and read lines with me.
To meet Mariia and Carolyn, two absolute naturals on stage who filled the room with their magnanimous and infectious spirits; work with Dennis, whom I’d admired from afar for awhile now; and, of course, to work again with Cara and Julie (and Maranda, behind the scenes!!!) – not to mention last (but never least), Andrew, Sheena, Stef, and H.W. – all of that was worth more than I could ever sum up in words.
And then everyone from the front of house, set building, design, lighting, and production departments, a remarkable crew indeed.
Marie and her marvellous, period-accurate costumes.
It’s been just over two weeks since we closed the show but it somehow feels longer and not that long ago simultaneously. Like a piece of me suspended somewhere in time – the memories are so fresh and vivid, it’s like watching a movie.
But there’s that distinct melancholy – that bittersweetness which overrides your emotions in the wake of any show, let alone a show that explores emotional dynamics in relationships like this one.
This show is not for the faint of heart.
Okay, maybe that’s too ominous – but it’s a show that doesn’t play all of its cards at once.
I was attracted to how Wade’s characters shift. How real the cracks in Judy and Johnny’s life feel. The mistakes they make and, ultimately, (spoiler alert) their choice to work through it all.
Funnily enough, one of the scariest things this show – and subsequently our director, Andrew Paulsen – asked me to do here was simple: grow.
Johnny can’t stay still. Neither can Judy, really.
Neither could Austin.
I learned so much about life, about myself, and what it means to embrace growth, healing, and responsibility at its best and worst.
I continue to learn.
The set was a brilliant reflection of the overall concept for the show, peeling back the masks that Johnny and Judy wear inside and outside their home – how the home itself functions as a mask in some ways.
Our perfect, see-through dollhouse made-up with ’50s accents. The cardboard toast, stripped-down couch and chair. The big window in the kitchen.
I can still hear the commercials between scenes.
I see us all laughing at something incredibly inappropriate or otherwise random backstage between scenes, dancing like no one is watching, and coming up with nicknames or euphemisms for everything.
Repeating our favourite lines or working them casually into conversation.
I feel hugs and high fives and the calm of breathing in-sync, manifesting, supporting each others energy.
I see Julie and I psyching each other up before our first scene.
I remember thinking it all felt so surreal – opening night. As if we hadn’t spent months doing character work and rehearsing lines and blocking and pouring ourselves into these characters and their lives, reviewing their relationships, their goals, the timeline.
I imagine a world where it never comes to an end… and wouldn’t that be awful?
You probably think that was a typo but no, I mean it.
There’s beauty in what doesn’t last. The flowers that bloom, deep in the forest where no one is looking – do they stop being beautiful because we can’t see them or we don’t know they’re there? Do they no longer matter after they’ve died?
Okay, probably a bit of a simplistic and slightly janky analogy (classic Austin).
My point is – and I think I’ve quoted this here before but a friend once threw a quote at me that basically went something like – “the best art is fleeting.”
There’s something poignant to me about moving on and taking Home, I’m Darling! with me.
To say we become new people in the wake of experiences like this might seem a bit dramatic or drastic, but I believe it’s true.
Heck, these moments shape us in ways we might not immediately realize.
And I think it’s part of the beauty and mystery of being human – we are, each of us, rich tapestries of time and experience.
Now, Home, I’m Darling – cast, crew, Sheena, Andrew, Stef, H.W., every single person (and dog and cat) involved – is woven into overlapping bits of that tapestry with me.
We really built a home.
And, while the best art is fleeting, I suppose that’s the part which does last – one of the purest elemental forces on this here high falootin’ intergalactic rock we call home: love.
The deep friendships and connections we create through these experiences.
The laughing until we cry, dry humoured remarks, silly inside jokes, bringing food to share with each other, helping each other through some of the harder moments of our lives without even realizing it, being present in the moment, understanding each other.
Twerking Tina-style with Julie before transforming into Johnny and Judy and heading onstage.
Being a young-old man with Dennis.
Commiserating over the commercials with Carolyn.
Sharing words of encouragement with Mariia.
Exchanging funny glances with Cara and matching her energy.
Giving Sheena and Maranda heart attacks by going to the bathroom right before I was supposed to be onstage.
Making Andrew shake his head when I finally got my record cue right for the last performance of the show (but was slightly off every night before that).
All the love.
That never ends. Not to me, anyhow.
But, naturally, Post-Show Depression (aka the Doldrums aka Despair of the Dramatic) sets in; you miss everyone – the camraderie, sharing the stage, becoming a mini-family.
Heck, I’ll even miss the ridiculousness of trying to tame my wild hair and turn it into something a little more Don Draper-ish.
So, my mind is already thinking about what’s next.
Onstage and in life…
And things are happening – oh, you best believe they’re happening. All the time, everywhere. Actually, is there any way we could get the things to take a break for a moment? Lotta things happening.
As is typically the case these days, I found myself inspired by something my coworker Sam said to me about accepting more responsibility in life.
Basically, gaining experience, trying new things, taking on more roles (at work, at home, in the theatre perhaps *wink wink, nudge nudge*), all that kind of stuff helps fufill us.
I agreed with Sam: responsibility is a good thing and we shouldn’t shy away from it.
Not to the point of draining ourselves, of course. Taking care of ourselves and setting healthy boundaries is important.
And, it’s still early days but I feel balance is in the cards for me – a balance of all those things I just mentioned: work, home, “extra-curriculars”, etc.
Despite that fact, I naturally can’t go another post without mentioning Cambrian Players and somehow having an announcement to make because (you guessed it) I am ensconced.
I shouldn’t leave you hanging, though, should I?
As my bestie and Cambrian Players’ VP (more like MVP, amirite?!), Maranda, has quickly realized: I am very good at being vague and/or cryptic.
It comes from an honest place though, I swear… namely, brain fog and an inability to articulate myself in precisely the way I like.
I digress.
Drumroll please…
I wear white bowties now! That’s the announcment… obviously! What else could I possibly be announcing with this screenshot?
Okay, okay, yes – the rumours are true: I joined Cambrian Players’ Board of Directors.
I like being involved and helping however I can, when I can. My values align with everything Cambrian Players stands for and I want to see it continue to grow and thrive so that others find out (the way I did) what a beacon of light community theatre can be not just in your own life but the lives of others – I reiterate: tapestries of experience, etc.
Yes, yours truly has taken on another role with Cambrian Players.
Notably, a more off-stage role – which is probably fair considering Endgame, Of Marriage Minded Misses, and (now) Home, I’m Darling! all happened consecutively.
It really has been a delightful whirlwind.
With this new Director of Engagement hat I’ve been wearing, my goal has been to drum up further interest in volunteering and promoting upcoming events (because there’s always something going on!). Not to mention attending board meetings, getting to know what makes Cambrian tick inside-and-out, and randomly showing up to meetings with pickle trays, cheese, and crackers to confuse and satiate the masses.
More than that, though, I just had a real desire to support something I love dearly – and the incredible people who have already been carrying the torch, building Cambrian Players from then to now.
It’s amazing what a lot of love can do when it comes to theatre.
Hence the mantra, “Theatre for the love of it!”
I turned to Maranda (my sister from another mister) and Julie (the Judy to my Johnny, who brought Of Marriage Minded Misses together onstage as our marvellous director, and kept the whimsy and intrigue alive in The Snow Queen with her costuming) at a recent Cambrian event and I said, “Why don’t I do this more? Why did I ever stop letting myself do this?”
Theatre and engaging with community are integral to my soul.
How could I have ever lost or forgotten that?
Well, the real answer is that life – as previously mentioned – is a journey and it isn’t always straightforward.
The path is rarely straight, in fact.
Peeling back layers of experience and deep-rooted emotions takes time. Sifting through what it all means takes even longer.
I was listening to Johnny Cash sing his rendition of Nine Inch Nails’ “Hurt” the other day and it got me thinking about, at its face, how literal I take that word sometimes.
Hurt looks different in everyone, in the sense that it moves differently. Sometimes, we hurt because we feel like something is missing.
But we return to ourselves too. We can, we do.
Picking ourselves up isn’t easy, of course. There is pain in the gain…
I guess my real point is that so much happens in life, we have to forgive ourselves when we make mistakes – but we also can’t shy away from responsibility or taking responsibility. That’s part of loving ourselves: the “shadow” work.
So I vow to never stop showing myself the love I need to grow.
It’s like RuPaul always says, “If you can’t love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else?”
And, surround myself with people and activities that expand that web of love.
But learning and re-learning that is all a part of the growing pains.
I’m just glad I have theatre, my theatre family, my family family, and friends through it all. Here’s to everything and anything that comes next.
(All Home, I’m Darling! production photos courtesy of Matthew Goertz)
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