I’m about to start running lines for tonight’s performance of Love & Taxes, benefitting the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. (A few tix remain! Click here for details.) Every time I do a show that I haven’t done in a while, I run the lines — usually, just to myself, in my motel room, or wherever. (Today I’m home!) And it always feels as though I am entering another world: the world of that particular piece, with its rhythms and connections (and dumb jokes). And crossing that border — from civilian to story-warrior — at first comes as something of a shock: Who am I in this place? Then, at some point, I’m finally back inside the story — and I’m no longer the daily person reeling from past to future, but a character, who lives in a story, and who gets to share that story — which has a shape (of sorts) — in the sacred space of a theater.
So … here goes!
(See you when I’m back.)