OK sooooooooooooooooooooooooo that was fast. And totally beautiful. Wow the weather in Brooklyn here right now is aMAzing. And it’s not pishing down rain as they say in Scotland either. Sun! It’s crAZY!
We had a brillant 5 days and 4 weeks and an excellent and super safe flight home. I have been thinking about the phrase, “Home is where the heart is” and how I always assumed it meant, You heart is always found in the home that you grew up in OR the place that you live in, currently, now, the most. But – what I learned while being away, in many foriegn rooms, hotels, and theatres, with LOTS os strangers, is that wherever your heart is, there is home for that moment, for that day.
And so it totally flipped my perspectual gaze on that easily misapprehended clicho.
My heart was definitely in Scotland. And the Traverse theatre. And in my throat watching people cue up for tickets to our show hours in advance. And throughout the course of our play, my heart was in New Orleans. And deep seeking into my imagination for empathy and understanding. Thinking about my grandparents and their grandparents and how people build their lives here in America. And what gives those lives meaning.
I am feeling very lucky to be a working part of this creative machine.
And now back to the sofa where I despite the sun might sleep (avec my favorite accessory of le temps – a Virgin Atlantic red sunshade eye mask, which I wore EVERY single night in Scotland) while my kind subletter finishes his August with us upstairs.
It’s way too early for me to be awake and dealing with anything like impending jet lag, which I fear can hit you with Olympic Judic hijack quality stealth if you do not achieve a sufficient quantity of horizontal REM and maybe feel yourself and your heart, in whatever is it’s home, getting a little comatose.