I am back, finally.
The family did the best they could while I have sketched, attended meetings, shopped, created, schlepped, and wenched costumes for my school’s fine arts department. This annual craziness is something I volunteer for and my family is dragged along for the ride. They are amazingly supportive, even through the frustrations of whiny actors, long dress rehearsals, and last minute changes – even if it means I decide to make two new dresses forty eight hours before opening night, because what I had originally thought to be good proved not good enough once on stage.
Costuming was my profession before teaching and there is much I do not miss about it. I do not miss the insane hours, no sleep, and three weeks of tremendous stress. I do not miss performers who have never known the life of a technical or production crew member. "You want what in your dressing room? Gee, that must be hiding under your Academy Award!" I do not miss the stress.
I do miss the creativity. The art that is mine on stage. Like an actor, my work is performance. I like the way costumes play out with messages in textures, design, and color. Once a year is enough to satisfy the what I miss and remind me of why I no longer costume as a profession.
This year, I fear, the toll on my family may have been too much. It was a large production for such a small team. There were thirteen actors – fourteen costumes. I hope for a smaller cast next year. A drama. Something contemporary. This week is about wrapping things up, reacquainting myself with my domestic life, my family, my blog and blogging friends and sleep. Thank you for your patience.