Theatre

I still believe in magic, a trait I thank most of my happiness for. Yes, even the basic magic acts (my favourite is the appearing flower bouquet) suspend my disbelief long enough to think it reality. But magic is everywhere. It's in a kiss, an unexpected great view, a dramatic painting, a piece of music, a glimpse of a deer in the woods. It's all around us, sometimes disappearing so quickly that we barely have time to acknowledge it.

Musical theatre keeps the magic alive long enough for me to be swept off my feet. A love affair begins when the lights dim and the music swells, my soul aching for the curtain to rise. I've been on both sides of the magic, and even knowing all the tricks behind the scenes - hell, designing and creating them - the moment still takes my breath away. If I was part of the show, my crew knew the importance of my watching the curtain go up. Every night. It became contagious. By the end of the run, a crowd of actors and 'techies' were huddled behind the lights to enjoy the moment.

And it's not just what's happening on stage. I love being in the audience, arriving at the theatre's marquee lights and vintage-style doors, crisp tickets in hand. I love dressing up (rather, overdressing up in most cases) and gathering with hundreds of people I've never met; each one ready to be transported to a new world, with lights and music and dancing and singing. I love the wine during intermission. I love the programs. I love hearing the orchestra warm up. I love gazing at the rich people, imitating their grace and posture. I love finding my seat and settling in. I love being with a date, both of us classy enough to turn heads and make friends. I love the overture, recognizing sings that I'd forgottem I used to hum. I love it all. And I hope it never gets old for me.