NOTE: To clarify, the production is just a LOCAL production with local players. I don’t think I voiced that very well in the following entry.
Well, wrap me in a rotted carcass and call me swamp thing… I just noticed the deodorant I’ve been using for the last 2 weeks (supposedly a BRAND NEW bottle of deodorant) expired in September 2010!! What’s 2-1/2 years when it comes to smelling rosy? I’m suing the store that sold it to me… first of all… second of all… y’all who passed my house the last 2 weeks and smelt that stench… Bambi called and wants his mom back! Oooo… was that mean… I’m sorry… too soon?
In other less smelly news… comfort zones… I live by mine. I take up residence on a decadely basis and during that time I mostly do nothing that would require me to stretch the levels of my comfort. That’s how it usually goes…
A few weeks back I got a letter from a sweet lady who lives in my city. It was handwritten and basically told me about the auditions for this production of one of Michael McLean’s oratorios called, The Garden and that I needed to go and audition. My first reaction was LOL…. literally, and then the 2nd reaction: HELL NO!!! Firstly, I had never heard of The Garden and so assumed it was a play… Whitney can’t act… unless she’s acting lame at calorizing. I got the letter on a Sunday. Auditions were being held two days away on a Tuesday and Wednesday night. I barely thought about it Sunday night… my mind was made up… it was a no! Monday was more of the same. Tuesday came and went and I did not magically appear at the auditions that night. Wednesday… the final night of auditions… my answer was still no. I went to dinner with some friends that evening where I didn’t mention one word about it. When I got home at around 7:00 I had a Facebook message from another sweet friend, asking me if I was going to make it to the auditions. I don’t know what hit me… something like a sudden sense of courage sprouting from my hanged toenail, but 5 minutes later I was in the car driving with last-minute Madre, the accompianist. It was cold and dark when we arrived at the audition place. The wind was blowing hard, it was probably about 5 degrees, and no lights were on in the building. We tried both front doors, but they were locked. Back in the car, my first thought was just to go back home and forget about it, but Madre insisted on driving around to the back and blast that she did, we found an open door with a line up of people inside it. Dagblast it, Madre!
I had spent approximately ZERO time preparing a song, A.) because I wasn’t going to do it… and 2.) I WASN’T GOING TO DO IT! My last second selection, Oh Holy Night… in February… you are welcome! I managed to get through the song in one piece. I always find it wayyyyyyyy more intimidating singing to a small group rather than a large one. I don’t know why… maybe it’s because in a larger group I can blend in with the crowd when it’s over. With a small group, when you suck it up… they’re going to know it’s you. At the end of the audition, I got a callback and was asked to sing part of one of the songs from the oratorio, which I had never in my life heard before and so did pretty much horribly on… I suck at sight reading. Give me time to practice and I can get it down to a science… but sight reading is like if a cat done got their tail cut off by a weed whacker.
I went home that night glad that I had braved it up and went… but pretty confident that I would not be getting any parts… chalk another one up to “the experience.” It was an honor being nominated… blah, blah, blah. Fast forward to a week later and what to my wondering eyes did appear, but 8 tiny reindeers bearing the following message:
If that ain’t my name next to the Olive Tree part than I’ll eat my expired deodorant! I had to look approximately 18 times to make sure I was reading it right. And in case you were wondering… my official role title… the OLD BARREN OLIVE TREE. Bring on the jokes, y’all. I guess it makes sense… I do like olives… trees are pretty awesome… and oh, I’m also quite old and barren… might be a match made in jokeville!
The comfort zone has been smashed! Bring it on! Moral of the Story: Shut up and just do it, okay? You hear me? All of you all out there… SHUT UP… DO IT! End of story! Also, thank you to the folk (who don’t read this blog but they know who they are) who pushed me to try out. You all knew what I needed somehow.
QUESTION OF THE DAY: Are you a regular comfort zone basher or do you love the walls of your zone? What’s the last thing you did to break through the zone?
PS- For those who were like me and had never heard of Michael McLean’s The Garden, it’s basically an oratorio (solos and an ensemble) that tells the story of the Garden of Gethsemane through the eyes of some of it’s contents (i.e., olive tree, seedling, ram in a thicket, and millstone). Of course those are all symbolic and it does a good job of making us think in terms of our own lives. I’ve been listening to the CD the last few days and it is a beautiful production. Perfect for the Easter season coming up.
This is an old picture… I have taken zero pictures since December of this year. There is nothing to take a picture of because the inversion lives here permanently.