Truth
The date is April 30. Rehearsals do not begin for another 23 days and already I am swept up in the whimsy and beauty that is The Fantasticks. Everything about this sweet little show rings true. And were it not for a good friend, I might still be denying that and viewing it simply as a funny little musical which I just really, really liked. My friend said, “It seems prophetic.” My walls went up right then and there. I did not want anyone looking into my soul. I didn’t even realize that this play could allow that. It’s just a play...that I really, really liked. But despite my best (alright, half-hearted) efforts not to, I kept trying to peer over the walls, to see what my friend saw paralleling my life to The Fantasticks. The more I read and reread and study this play (and I’m sure as I watch brilliant actors make it come to life), the more I see how perfect it is; how so much truth is crammed into a minimalistic, unassuming play. I did not know that when I decided to dedicate 9 months of my life to it, but I am sure glad I did. Art is a reflection of life. I am not really sure where I am going with this. I suppose I am just glad and overwhelmingly grateful for the subconscious foresight to choose The Fantasticks and for my friend gently asking me to see the show for what it really is to me and now allowing myself to let it happen.