Move back...

I’m moving back to my parents’ house on the 20th of this month.

The idea began to brew while at CLOC. My time at the fantastic Harlem apartment - the deal of a century - was to end, and the idea of searching for a new place with little funds gave me that sick-to-stomach pit. Not to mention, my life was changing, outlooks broader, and dreams shifting from performance to direction/choreography. Did I necessarily need to be in NYC now to “become” a director/choreographer?

Things started to happen when I moved here from the comforting confines of home in February of 2011. I auditioned more, I networked more, I created more for myself. How could I leave that, that connectedness, that odd "beating down to the ground" support only NYC can provide?

Pondering amongst summer-stock, beached sunsets, and over-priced pizza, the thought of leaving the greatest city on Earth equated failure: I didn’t/wasn’t able to “make it” well enough, thus had to flee back to Mommy and Daddy...

A very wise friend told me, cutting through (and finally off) the spouting fears of judgment, that moving back was not a failure if I made something of it.

It was then that I started to take this choice as an opportunity. This could be a time to re-evaluate and see the different avenues of this field. This could be the time to learn more about famous directors and choreographers, furthering my own creative aesthetic through those comforting walls of a cheaper living situation. This could be that time to reconnect with family, traveling to be with and learn from extended families’ differences and similarities. 

I came back to NYC with this pretty secure, yet open to change-and-stay attitude. But with each day counting down to my move-out date, I continued to feel drawn to the opportunities that Connecticut could provide. Connecticut has a fantastic theatre scene and can be a wonderful place to work and create. I look forward to hopefully returning to some of the connections I already have there while also meeting new people and creating with the many other talented companies there. 

But it's something else that has been the most intriguing aspect about leaving NYC that continually comes to mind: I don’t want to be creating theatre from the adventures of NYC anymore. It’s already been done and over-done. I want to explore specifics in my own life’s events and escapades outside of this city concerning my faith, family, and other interests in this life that I wish to explore/try out. There's too many to list here, but the ideas are endless. I personally find theatre about experiences that I never would have thought of, stories that are so opposite of the NYC way of life, to be the most fascinating because I am transported completely. That's the kind of stories I want to share through theatre.  

One example: People that know me know that I have a weird obsession and love of farming. My dream is to retire on a huge farm or ranch where I can live out my life tilling the ground, feeding the chickens, riding horses, and holding my husband’s hand on our porch (Well, only if Obama is President...). 

So, this upcoming January, I am heading down to Todd Langstaff’s Maryland farm to help out his Aunt Lee with lambing season. Yes people, I’ll be birthing lambs. It’s something I always have wanted to do, to learn, and be a part of. Thus, when the opportunity arose, and having no NYC ties, I took it because it’s important to me as not only an artist, but as an individual to be a part of an experience like this. Some may ask, “How does birthing lambs make you a better artist?” I have no freaking clue, but you never know...

I’m terrified about moving and hating that I'm leaving this city behind. I’ll miss it terribly, but I know NYC isn't going anywhere (Yeah Sandy, even you can't take us down.). And luckily, I’m close enough to come in every so often to get my city-life-fix every now and again. 

Here’s to the road of my art taking yet another turn...