I’ve always been told that I’m too sentimental for my own good. It started from a very early age. For every holiday, namely Christmas, I would stretch out the spirit and celebrations for as long as possible. I’d watch every holiday movie as many times as I could stand it, I’d bake cookies for all occasions and share them with my friends and family, and, during Christmastime at my mom’s, I made it a point to sleep in the living room every single night by the tree with the channel on Hallmark.
What can I say.
My mom reminds me of all of the times I’d tell her, “This was the best Christmas yet. I wish I could go back to December 1st and relive it all over again.” Though I don’t feel quite the attachment to that holiday anymore, my overly sentimental mindset has yet to leave me.
Sometimes it strikes during a family gathering.
Sometimes it strikes during a really good conversation.
Sometimes it strikes during a play.
Tonight’s performance of “Robin Hood: Thief, Brigand” was magic, which is funny, because, prior to the show, my friend Nick and I were joking about calling things “magic,” but tonight was.
For starters, it was a beautiful day. Blue skies, fluffy, white clouds, and sunlight like you wouldn’t imagine! A beautiful, and most welcomed, change from yesterday’s weather, which resulted in us having to cancel our performance.
I also knew that a few of my friends would be in the audience tonight, one of which is my coworker and partner-in-laughter, Cameron. This bald, bearded dude makes me laugh harder than most people I know, and I was so thankful to see him in the audience tonight. It warmed my heart.
Some of my most favorite moments of our show don’t even happen onstage. It’s the times where we’re all gathered in the dressing rooms together before and after the show. We’re half naked, not giving a care in the world, and cracking joke after joke. It’s such a simple time. Perhaps a moment of leisure. Contemplation, for some. A time in which you prepare. But they’re my most favorite times, because they’re raw and fun and true.
We’re just a bunch of people who love playing pretend and love being around one another.
It’s so simple, right? It’s so uninhibited. I could cry. It brings me so much happiness, I could cry.
The moments after the show are just the same, but much more smelly. I’ve come to embrace it, because it reminds me of a job well done.
This journey has been one hell of a ride and quite a long one at that. We began rehearsals almost nine weeks ago, I think. That’s crazy. It seems like just yesterday.
In those short, but long, nine weeks, so much has happened in my life.
I got a new car. Finally.
I house sat at two different homes for a month straight, which meant I wasn’t in my home, which meant I was out of my element.
And the most recent, and most challenging, is the death of my great-grandma, whose guidance ultimately lead me to the theatre and pursuing a career in acting.
Through these trials and road blocks, I’ve found solace in “Robin Hood” and knowing that I would be with my cast at either rehearsal or a performance. I knew that I would soon enough be braiding my hair and lacing up my boots to transform into Maid Marian, a character whom I’ve grown to absolutely adore. I’ve found comfort in knowing that I would definitely spend the remaining hours of my day laughing and enjoying the company of everyone I was around, which, thinking back on it now, I could’ve expressed more.
When communicating my feelings, I operate best through written word. Verbalizing my emotions has never been my strong suit, which is why, instead of telling everyone, “Hey, it’s been awesome,” on opening night, I wrote everyone individualized letters.
I’m just better with words.
So I say to you all, the cast and crew of “Robin Hood,” I love you, and this experience has been a true pleasure. Every moment. Every sweaty, steamy, termite-laden moment. It’s all been so worth it, because it lead me to you, and it lead us to our passion.
And we all did it together.
I feel so proud.
Tomorrow night is closing night. My heart breaks a little just thinking about it. As an actor, I find myself getting overly attached to shows because of the friendships and memories I make, as well as the fear of never working again once it closes. I know that isn’t true. I hope it isn’t anyway! But it’s always a little bit of a scare.
Tomorrow will be a sad day for me, but it will also be a victory and a celebration. We’re closing a monster of a show that underwent rain delays, scheduling changes, rewrites, you name it. We tackled it, and we made it out alive (albeit a little battered), and it’s been a freaking success. Sold out houses, glowing reviews, radio and TV appearances! What a ride.
We did it.
Through the rain.
Through the sweat.
And through the tears.
We did it.
And I’m so happy to have done this with all of you.
Let’s rock this closing show. Let us sing a little louder and smile a little wider and soak up every last moment.
And, once it’s all said and done, once we’re back in the dressing rooms changing out of our costumes for the last time, may we remember all of the great memories we’ve made, the friendships we’ve created, and the characters we’ve built and the story we told…
And may we drink to it.
Cheers, Team Robin Hood. It’s been a loveleh adventure.