Some of you may know that I was just in a production of Hair.  It finished about two weeks ago, and it left me satisfied but exhausted - mentally, emotionally, and physically.

It's very common, after finishing a show, to see it everywhere you go.  I posted about The Elephant Man last year, and how it made me think about ignorance and class differences.  The year before that, it was Secret Garden and it made me think about youth and renewal.  Now, everywhere I look, I see Claude.

http://www.wondercafe.ca/blogs/faerenach/missing-my-personal-spirituality

Some of you might remember my blog, written, ironically, a year and a day ago.  If you don't recall it or never read it, the link is above.

I'm halfway through, but honestly?  I wish the run was over now.  This performance has got to be one of the most exhausting plays I've ever been in, in my life. 

Well, tonight's the first full run.  The last two nights have been exhausting, patience-demanding technical rehearsals.  This means that for Monday night, we cut out all the relaxing dialogue and just did the jumping around parts.  Yesterday we saw the show in its entirety, as we figured out the subtlies of audio balance and lighting effects.

It is inevitable that when I get into the habit of reading fiction, I feel the need to sit down and write something myself. Right now, I'm playing around with a high school story - the unrequited crush. Here's a little tidbit:

She flipped through the sonnets, not seeing anything to relate to. They were all too perfect, too happy. And then her eyes widened in recognition.

Is it thy will, thy image should keep open

My heavy eyelids to the weary night?

What a strange headspace I now find myself in.

Instead of my usual quiet Sunday mornings, attending church and finding a serene and tranquil time for learning and prayer... I now spend it warming up to Madonna and Kanye West, then flailing about sexually with my hair flying in all directions.

Ah, Hair.  My rehearsals on Sunday have stretched from the original 1-5pm to 10-6 full day affairs.  I am exhausted halfway through, not to mention when I'm finished.

To nearby WCers - some of you may know that I'm in a production of the musical Hair being put on in Oakville.  If, by any chance, you'd be interested in coming to see it, here is some pertinent information:

I tried to go with no preconceptions, but as expected, I failed.  In my mind, Catholic churches (especially in Spain) are immense, elaborate, antique things with carvings and mosaics and stone.  This one was different.  For one, it was L-shaped, which seemed very strang

Here I am, everyone, in sunny Spain!  It's strange to be in springlike weather (16, 17 degrees) while hearing rumours of torrid snow storms at home.  I thought just before I left that I'd miss the snow, but I'm reminding myself how lovely it is to wear shoes without socks outside and not lose toes to frostbite. 

Last night, my face tightened into sad, premature wrinkles as I read about Christmas trees being lit on fire in Greece.  Purposeful destruction always bothers me.  And without really thinking about what I was saying, I burst out to my mother:

"I don't understand how people can protest like this."