I Said No

Sometimes you gotta say no to stuff. As it stands and as most of you know, my life is busy and getting busier next week thanks to three jobs all demanding my time. Consequently, when an old acquaintance asked me to don the director's helm again for a playfestival, I had to say no.

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Sometimes you have to say no because you work hard already. Sometimes you need to say no because you need to survive. Sometimes it is a little bit of both.

I absolutely love theater. I do. I miss performing sometimes. It is difficult to explain to non-theater types how it feels to work closely with a group of people to develop a kickass show. Analyzing a script, being specific about choices and actions, delving into a character who is not anything like you, and then performing that hard work in front of an audience. Honestly, nothing on earth compares. 

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Ah! The glory of live theater.

On the whole, I do not miss doing theater in this town. Part of survival means to recognize and be honest with yourself about what you want. I know from past experience that I love theater and I love working with certain people in theater. I also know that sometimes theater around here breeds negativity and backbiting. Part of why I did my own shows a few years ago was to have positive experiences with theater. Experiences that did not fall into petty arguments or personal attacks. I'll be honest, I am not without blame when it comes to the pettiness. I didn't like myself when I worked with certain groups or people. I didn't like how I felt trying to navigate the crap, the arguments, the finances, or the personalities. Those were not my proudest times ever. I like to think I have grown since then, but I am also not all that eager to jump back in the deep end of the pool.

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There's never a No Diving sign when you need one.

Anyway, I didn't really like myself in the theater company of others and I didn't really like the actions of others in the theater including myself; hence, I said no. The decision felt good, but it also saddened me. It saddened me to realize that theater may be out of my life indefinitely. Belly dance feeds my need to perform, but it's not the same as Shakespeare. It is not Chekhov and it is not Ibsen.

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Ibsen. F*ck.

It's a thing. I mean, do you see his hair? Be honest.

F*ck.

Such a simple word, but so many conflicted emotions in just saying no this time. I know that right now, it was the right choice. However, I hope that somewhere down the line the time will be right for me to say yes to theater again. Now though, is not the time.