It was warm and raw and funny and heartbreaking and so real it hurt. It was perfectly flawed. The way each of us is perfect and flawed. The way motherhood is perfect and flawed. The way life is perfect and flawed.
The awe-inspiringly amazing cast of LISTEN TO YOUR MOTHER Spokane 2011. From back left: Elise Raimi (co-producer), Kristina Mattson, Jeni Steeber, Michele Burkey, Courtney Clark, Ivory Coghlan, Cherie Killilea and Teresa Schock. Front row: Christine Goodell, Mindi Finch, Lisa Fairbanks-Rossi and Stacey Conner (co-producer/director). Photo credit: Follger Photography.
Throughout the two hour prep for the show and the technical run-through, there was a problem with the stage spotlights. They were on some kind of timer and they kept going out suddenly. The light technician worked feverishly to fix it, but in the end, though we had a back-up spotlight, we were unsure if the lights would go out suddenly during the show.
I kept a smile on my face, but I thought I might strangle several kittens with a light cord if the spotlights went off unexpectedly one more time during our technical rehearsal. And then, as I stood in the wings, feeling slightly ill with nerves, waiting to go out and introduce the show, I let it go; I just knew it was going to be all right and it was. Those damn lights stayed on for the entire performance. I shall refrain from making any "lights in the temple/miracle of the oil" references here, because, ahem...really, Stacey? Except that I just did because it was that miraculous in my mind. Kittens survived is what I'm telling you.
I didn't have the right words for the day until this morning, when a dear friend who came to hear the readings said that it was the feeling of connection in the room that made the event so special. That she felt connected in an intimate way to the women reading and to the women around her listening. I thought, finally, yep, that's it. We did it.
Curtain call. (We did have real lights and I swear we weren't in a gym. We brought the stage lights up so that we could see the audience.) Photo credit: Follger Photography.
I am overwhelmed with admiration for the eleven women on that stage with me. Their stories. Their spirits. Their joy. Their pain. Their motherhood.
There were so many compliments from so many people - I just can not say thank you enough - but the thing that I loved was that each compliment, each comment about how someone identified so strongly with a certain moment, was about a different piece, a different story.
Above: Elise and Jeremy (her unbelievably patient and sweet husband) in deep discussion over the will call list. Below: Me. Holding my imaginary chai tea latte during my reading. I thought you all might appreciate that. Photography by Nick and Michele Follger.
I learned that I have not even the slightest clue what cute, funky shoes entail.
THESE are cute, funky shoes, my friends, and they are so not mine. (They are Elise's shoes.)
There is a Listen To Your Mother flickr group where I plan to post the rest of the pictures, eventually. If I can ever get my normal life back under control. I also plan to spend the rest of the evening posting gorgeous pictures of each of our speakers on the Spokane LTYM blog.
Sunday forever confirmed for me the power of storytelling. To forge connections. To transform relationships. To broaden perspectives and to change minds. To encourage compassion and empathy. To bring out the best in all of us.
I can not wait for next year.
(Comments are closed. Thank you for indulging me in these posts. I am now returning to my regularly scheduled life.)
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