picnic {№10}

picnic ten was also a (many-times-delayed-when-was-our-last-date?) date night.  we set out on the hottest day of the year to enjoy shakespeare under the stars at the foot of the blue ridge mountains.  endstation theatre gives an amazing festival each summer.  this night was twelfth night.

they encourage picnicking and much drinking of wine.

it began with soft green grass, a hint of breeze, talking and laughter floating from our blanket and the surrounding blankets, the sweet smokey scent from the tiki torches and a grand view of the blue ridge with the promise of a spectacular sunset.  picnic perfection, i'm telling you. 

and then this:

sudden loud claps of thunder and bolts of lightning followed by a downpour and the mad dash to the parking lot.

our very first picnic in the car was one of the best picnics ever.  the storm was long and the acting company was determined not to cancel the show.  so we waited.  and for the first time in a long time, the two of us had precious time to talk and laugh and share time together without distraction.  and there is just something incredibly romantic about the sound of rain pounding on the car roof, don't you think?  it was very intimate and both of us loved this quiet accidental moment of connection.

(recipe break) rainbow quinoa:  stir up cooked quinoa with purple cabbage, green onion, carrots, cilantro, pepitas, peaches, a splash of olive oil and a squeeze of lemon juice.  it's my new summer stand-by.  good and pretty.

we took a little walk in the storm after dinner, another intimate moment as we only had one umbrella and had to share.  the rain slowed to a drizzle and the theatre company came to back to life, hurrying to ready the stage for performance.

the show must go on.  and so it did.  shakespeare, misty hills and a pink sunset followed by a crisp and beautiful starry sky.

casting call

sometimes I miss being on stage. I miss the thrill of being involved with a creative project that has so much energy and passion surrounding it; yet doesn't last long enough for those involved to get bored. I love being another person and living her life in short brilliant bursts.

curious: let's pretend you have all the acting talent in the world and there is no such thing as stage fright...what role do you covet above all others?

for me, it has to be katherine in the taming of the shrew. I know, I know...let's forget the misogynist overtones of the work and focus on what an awesome character she is: feisty, rebellious, independent, quick-tempered, yet capable of vulnerability and surrender. I long to retort the words, "best beware my sting."

who would I cast as petruccio? no mystery there.

theatre widow

first, let me say that I feel grateful that I do not have to endure hours of sports-watching, team cheering, face/chest painting, beer-guzzling and all the other silliness that goes along with typical male interests. you see, my dear husband is a theatre man. actor, director, designer, builder, teacher: he does it all. during the school year, I play second-string to the hours upon hours he devotes to enriching young creative minds. I can normally count on summers to have him all to myself.

not this year. he was cast in two productions as part of the blue ridge theatre festival. for weeks, he has been gone to seemingly endless rehearsals and now performances. while I love that this is his thing and I support him wholeheartedly, I can't help but feel a bit neglected. it's hard for me to smile and be enthusiastic while he relays stories of the stage. he is so thrilled by her and so devoted. he will never tire of this mistress.

last night, I watched his performance in the bluest water and my heart swelled with pride and love. to see this man I love transform into another person and tell a story so sad and so deep makes it all worth it.

(photo courtesy of news & advance)