I spent the evening with friends at a sold-out performance of Book of Mormon in Toronto. It’s the touring cast, here for about a 6 week run.
It’s a great show. Not one I would take my grandmother to, but hilarious — especially given my recent Big Love obsession (and ensuing research on LDS and FLDS). Inside jokes people.
But what I can’t let go of, a couple hours later, is this beautiful ensemble moment that probably wasn’t overly spectacular to everyone else, but just hit me with so much power.
I just felt so full of … joy I guess. Just sheer love for the experience, for the voices, for the dancing, for the energy. For the music. For the choreography. For the acting.
I love what I have chosen as a career. But I can’t think of a time when (doing or observing) it just filled my heart with so much happiness. So much that I felt physically full, like there was no space left in my body, my lungs, my cells for any more adoration.
And not even totally for this one show itself. But for theatre — and musicals — in general. I wish I could say what it is that makes me love them so much. Makes them make me so happy.
But I do know that it means I have to set another goal and obtain it. I need to get better at my hobby. I need voice lessons. I need to get back dancing and I need to audition more. I need to feel confidant and I need to realize that cracking into a new theatre community can take time, but I did it in Kelowna after a decade without. I can do it again.