Art Imitating Life

The place that has been my home for the last seven years is slowly being packed up, spackeled, cleaned, painted, rearranged, and transformed for its "New Listing" debut September 1.

My father leaves Thursday with my brother and sister-in-law via U-Haul and car for San Diego.

I drive my mother to SeaTac on September 4 where my brother will meet us, then fly with her down to San Diego, to join my Dad at the Sunrise Assisted Living Facility.

The walls are all bare and ready for paint. The kitchen cabinets have all been scrubbed clean of the grime and dirt I had apparently become all too used to over the past several years.

I'm rehearsing all week for Chekhov's Ivanov--to be performed Saturday in the park in Chimacum.

An actor friend called me the other day and asked how I was dealing with the move and my parents' leaving, etc., "How do you feel? Do you need to cry?" they asked.

I had no answer......at the time. Until we rehearsed Act 3 night before last.

Ivanov, end of Act 3--that's when I finally have time to cry. Every time we rehearse it, and probably for the performance too. Very blurry line right now between my life and my art.