We replace our bodies every 28 days, or something like that. I don’t recall the exact maxim that tells how the cells in our bodies die and are reborn. But every month or so I guess we are a new creature, yet the same.
I think of this after reading the New York Times article on the cast of Hamilton having an impromptu talkback with Vice-President elect Mike Pence. I have no problem with it, for the record.
Still I found myself getting agitated. Not at the political landscape, which is bad enough. But at the change in how I view theatre. It used to be my passion. My joy-bringer. Now I feel sad thinking about it.
For several years I was a working actor, but after this past year the wind of my theatrical sails was sucked out. I don’t know if they’ll ever catch wind again. Which leaves me wondering, what am I going to do now?
Michael's Musings 