A few months back I asked you in the cyber world to send me your stories about loss. I was able to take my time, read each story over and over, and begin to detach myself from the tragedy that is a real life situation that someone close to me has been dealing with.
Now, after the startling news of a small child, born to a dear friend of mine, who was lost to an accident, I find myself unwilling to approach this subject of loss with such a distant touch. My own grieving, leaving me unable to communicate or think clearly.
This, paired with running my latest work ("So we go there, where nothing is waiting.") and my work-in-progress ("Her Story") in back to back rehearsals has left me with a heavy, unnerving feeling.
I've decided I need to break up these stories of loss with something else. I'm working on a new duet with fellow artist, Erin Cairns Cella, for this same project and am attempting not only to find a way to keep the mood from dropping us all into a saddened state, but to possibly celebrate the lives of those lost in our stories. I'm trying to think of how I could possibly send a message to the family that recently lost their youngest child and tell them we love them, and that he is safe now. Protected from pain. I also want to be as respectful as possible, as I attempt with all of the stories and authors. It will be a journey, for sure. Without taking us all on an erratic roller coaster ride with each work, I'll attempt to be subtle, yet thoughtful with my execution.
I'll update again once I've made some headway. Heck, I might even have a video to share.
Until next time, take care of yourself, love on others, and breathe.
