Homesick

So, blogosphere, guess what was on PBS tonight?

'What?' I ask in your place.

South Pacific, the revival! Yes, Kelli O'hara saw fit to grace my television screen with (what should have been) her tony award winning performance.

To save you some time, I'm going to revleive your worries and tell you that I will not give you a review of the show filled with my usual rants about how no one can play the male lead in South Pacific like Enzio Pinza (however true that might be).

No, instead, I want to talk about how, somewhere between 'I'm gonna wash that man right out of my hair' and 'Younger than Spring time' I began to feel increadibly homesick. See, as much as I love my new job, as much as I like my life right now, a part of me posotively aches to be on stage.

I know it sounds cliche, and it is, but a lot of cliches are true...that's how they became cliches.

I'm sure a lot of performers understand what I mean. And, if you're not a performer, well...it's hard to explain. I guess the best way to explain the feeling of not being on stage or a part of a show for a while is the way you feel when you've been away from home for a long time.

You don't really notice at first. When you've been somewhere far away from home long enough, it becomes sort of normal and you don't realize you miss it. Then something stupid and insignificant happens: you see a picture, you hear a song, you eat soup, you see, hear, feel something that reminds you of home and, out of no where you feel a pain in your chest.

I heard a song I'd heard a thousand times before, sung the way I've heard it sung a thousand times and that pang in my chest came flooding in with a vengance. Suddenly, I was crying when I wasn't supposed to be crying.

I was sitting on my couch, my blanket curled around my knees wishing, for the first time in weeks, that I could be somewhere else. I wanted to be on that stage. Not that stage specifically, but any stage. I knew what the feeling was, I wanted to go home.

I know some people, some of you probably, think that this feeling is riddiculous and silly and I should just give it up and move on to something else. But...it's not as easy as that. Again, it's hard to explain but it's definately not something one can just drop and forget about.

That is why I will always perform. No matter what. It's not a choice, really. It's just something I've got to do.

I know that was overly sentimental and sappy but...it's late and my mind takes very sentimental turns this late at night.

Until tomorrow...