Yes. Yes, I can do that.

I'm sure I'll talk more about my job later, but suffice it to say, I work in the Member Activities Department at Life Time Fitness as a Sales Assistant and Event Planner. We're throwing our annual kids' Halloween Party next month, and my boss asked me if I knew anyone who was a face painter. Happilly, if not GLEEFULLY, I announced that, Yes, I do. I, in fact, could face paint. I am a face painter.

This is not the first time I have been giddy over the fact that I can serve someone with one of my useless skills. You see, I have been known to be able to do a lot of stupid stuff. Most of this stuff is inconsequential to most people's lives, but I love knowing and learning all these silly things, such as welding, crocheting, and making lip balm (Oh, how I wish I were joking...). This has been an inside joke in my family for a while, seeing as I'm not really running towards a specific career right now, but I can do lots of stupid crap. I went home a few weeks ago, and announced to my Sister Kate (also the title of a fabulous song from the Ditty Bops) that I had learned how to rock climb, and was now Belay Certified. She promptly responded "Ah, yes, yet another useless skill you'll never use!" Lovely. Of course, she's right, and I do like adding things to my list. It's become a bit of a hobby, I suppose. And, I won't bore you by listing whatever skills I think I have...I assure you, it's nothing short of embarassing for me and those associated with me.

The problem is, I do not excell at any of these things. In fact, I've often called myself the "Queen of the Mediocre Skill." (..."You know, like nunchuck skills, bowhunting skills, computer hacking skills... Girls only want boyfriends who have great skills"...I can't get it out of my head...) And, honestly, I don't really wish to excell at these things. Oh, I want to be GOOD at them- enough that I could provide assistance in a pinch indoor rock-climbing belaying emergency, or throw a quilt together at the last minute- but it's really just a collection. The question that really gets me is when someone, ANYONE, asks me "Do you know how to ______?" and I have to say no. Man, I HATE that. The thing is, I don't expect that of everyone else! When I ask someone else if they know how to do something, I certaintly don't expect them to say yes, or- if they say no- think worse of them for not knowing that particular skill. But, I surely have made it my goal to be able to say yes to most things- at least dealing with skills that do not require Board Certification, Higher Education, or Possible Legal Consequences and/or Jail Time.

I have wished many times that there were a Spiritual Gift to explain my little...problem. The boy scouts have a great motto, and as the proud daughter of an accomplished Eagle Scout, I have known the Boy Scout motto since I was little- "Always Be Prepared"- and I can use that for a reasonable explaination. It's not quite a Bible verse, but it will do.

Is it just me...

Ok...I might be totally off-base, but you know when you're on someone else's computer, and you hit that little arrow button next to the website address in Explorer (or Safari), and a list of recently viewed and typed-in webpages drops down? Does anyone else think that this is a good insight into the type of person that uses that computer? I use the quote often that "Character is who you are when you're alone," and I liken it to the same thing... I mean, for those of us who are the sole users of our computers, they start to resemble more of us everyday, don't they?

I know it's basically snooping, but try clicking on that little arrow button on a foreign computer...it tells you a lot about the person (or people) that use that computer.

I think I just totally encouraged you to tresspass. Awesome.

Theatres

Ever since I first stepped into The Swan theatre in Stratford-upon-Avon, England, in January of 1999, I have understood the true importance of the Theatre Space. For those of you who have been there, you will understand what I'm saying. That space just breathes theatre. It just sits silently, wrapped in the orangy brick walls that have surrounded thousands of the great actors of the last century. It was originally built in 1879, a Victorian Gothic building with walls of brick and stone, and seats and balconies of wood. It was burned to the ground in a 1926 fire, leaving only the horseshoe-shaped brick wall standing. An Elizabethan-style theatre was rebuilt within these walls, and reopened in 1986. It is built mostly of wood and stone, and has the organic feel of standing in an ancient forest. It is, hands-down, my favorite performance space on earth.

But there have been many that have been intensely important parts of my life. In June, Nick and I had the great fortune to revisit Calvin's campus with our dear friends, Jessie and Karl, and visit the spaces that had served as the backdrop to the first few days of our friendship. Why is it that the memory of spaces portrays them as bigger than they actually are? We hadn't physically grown in the three years since graduation, but they felt intimate and smaller than before...and how on earth had we produced so many exciting, if not monumental, productions in these spaces?!

The Gezon was a tough space, a thrust proscenium...always a challenge for everyone involved- the designers, actors, and directors. But it was a good space, a friendly one... The lab - the everchanging lab theatre. A true black box- and not many people have had the freedom to work with a blank slate such as the lab theatre...you don't know what you're missing until you let your imagination run wild in that space.

But theatres feel almost haunted...sacred, in a way. I can understand why people of many different faiths are attracted to theatre. In a quiet, empty theatre, it almost feels as if you're worshipping. Most liken it to the space itself being haunted; I think it makes them feel better about that feeling that you're being watched...as if justifying it with a ghost will make it easier to understand. Some go so far as to set out a ghost light (which has plenty of safety reasons to back up its existence...it surely doesn't need a misplaced spirit to necessitate one). Instead of jumping to the fairly complicated conclusion that each and every theatre in the world must play host to a tragic ghost, maybe the hundreds of passionate, emotive, intense thespians that passed over its boards have each left a little behind. They have imprinted themselves onto the space during their lives instead of afterwards.

Then these imprints influence us in the space...they are what make it sacred. And anyone who has had the great fortune to stand upon a theatre stage alone, with a quiet auditorium, will understand the feeling of finding that space in its most unnatural of states. That, alone, will create a feeling of hushed intensity.

Sometimes, an empty theatre is the best place to hear God. It feels as if the space itself is in a constant state of readiness...and in that state of hushed intensity, where you've bared your soul to crowds of hundreds, now are able to open up and bare your soul to a crowd of one.

One might think that this "sacred theatre experience" is a difficult thing to explain to a person 1. Not ever having experienced Theatre and/or 2. Not ever having experienced God. But it's not, really...most people, having stood in an empty theatre, has felt something intense and real that may be easily "explained" by a haunting, but more likely by the knowledge of those that came before you, and will come after, and the intense nakedness that each of them feels on that stage. Many of us will recognize that experience in our own lives, not just in an empty theatre, that there is Something out there that knows each part of us intimately...it simply is more pronounced in one of these "sacred" spaces.

Where are you from?

I found myself this past weekend standing in Trinity Lutheren Church in Port Clinton, Ohio, listening to a oboe solo accompanying a recording of crickets, coyotes, and bullfrogs, and, having been assigned the post as "greeter," directing people where to sit, when to enter and exit, and where the pottys were. Had you told me an hour prior to that moment that in a mere 60 minutes I would have to assume a position of authority over a location I had never seen before, and then proceed to maintain that authority drenched in music I did not exactly embrace, surrounded by people from the Lake Erie Islands community that knew far more than I did, I would have had quite a laugh.

But, alas, there I was- amidst howling coyotes, stained glass disciples, and the arts-starved elderly... It got me thinking about locations in general, and I began to think what steps I had taken to get to that point. Born in OH, Raised in PA, Calvin in MI, OSU in Columbus, OH, and now at an Arts Festival in Port Clinton, OH. I remember at Calvin how frequently the question of "where are you from?" found its way into conversations. I feel I answered "a small town in Western PA...you've never heard of it..." a million times my first year. I remember listening to the missionary kids list the places they'd lived and thought either "Wow! How exciting!" or, on more gloomy days, "Man, I am so glad my answer is more normal!" Then came OSU, and the answer to that question became more difficult, because as much as I had loved growing up in PA, my time in Grand Rapids, MI, had molded me just as strongly, not to mention supplying me a husband with a history steeped in the area.

Then we were fortunate enough to log a number of travels...England, Scotland, Oregon, Texas, North Carolina, Florida, Napa, Maine, etc... and each place molded me just a little more. So, asked the question during my graduate work at OSU, where was I from? Well... do you want the short answer or none at all?

This is not to say that my life has been so exciting I just am overwhelmed by the prospect of answering one little question, or that I think my travels have been so extensive as to merit an identity crisis, but moreso that I wish to give credit to each locale that has informed who I am today. I think this goes for many people in my circle, most who have traveled far more than I. Our generation is more mobile than ever before, and...more homeless...when you think about it.

So, standing in that church in Port Clinton, OH, and thinking about where I had been to get to that moment, I realized how true it is that God is the Ultimate Event Planner. (A phrase I used some 13 months ago, when I was hired as an event planner against all odds, time constraints, and money pressures. It was used much to the excitement of my husband, who lives for the well-placed corny metaphor.) Had I started, 5 years ago, planning to make it to that moment, I would have screwed up to the point that I may not have ever made it to Ohio. I'm so glad it wasn't up to me. But, God, well, to not only create each of us in His image, but then to move us through this life, gathering information, travels, good and bad experiences, all to end up in His arms! And, finally, at the end, we are a confused mess of bad choices, shining moments, ugly mornings, uncontrolable laughter, misplaced anger, missed chances, pure happiness, expensive travels, and second thoughts. And He loves us for all of it. Thank goodness, huh?

The next time someone asks me where I'm from, I might answer Columbus, I might answer Michigan, I might answer a small town in Western PA...you've never heard of it. But that doesn't really matter, does it? It's not where we're from, but where we've been, and who controls where we're going...I'm just thankful it's not me! Because I couldn't have been blessed with as many experiences without Him.

Succumbing to Peer Pressure...

So, not having wanted to draw attention to my otherwise fairly boring life, I had not, until now, started a blog. I didn't have a real reason- I just knew I wouldn't update it, which I might not, and knew that I certaintly didn't feel the need to bore people with my tedious life details. And then I remembered, most of my friends are in the arts- and the arts are ALL ABOUT life's tedious details...seen in a different light.

Thus, our blog.