Or blue for that matter. I have been unusually melancholy for the last week or so. Things that normally roll off me are really bugging me, things I usually want to do I’ve been putting off. I do believe I’m having a rather mild case of the “midlife crisis.” Although I may be a little young, (after all, my paternal grandmother lived to be 101, and her father 105) sometimes I can’t help but feel that my life is passing me by. I had this really terrifying moment last week when I realized that decisions that I made fifteen or twenty years ago really do have the potential to define the course of my life. A thought that some things, at least for the moment, in the current state of affairs, are set in stone.
Coupled with that revelation was a flare up of the terminal “bein’ green” syndrome Kermit describes. A fear of not being special, of being always overlooked…of not being red or purple or some other color. Basically, a fear of being me and not being enough for anyone or anything. I think everyone goes through times like this…usually I shake it off and move along, but this particular flare has been stubbornly hanging around. The impending shift from summer to fall only seemed to make it worse, but then something interesting happened…
First, I went Into the Storm (account of our encounter is forthcoming) over the holiday weekend with my oldest and we had a great time. It was his suggestion – he who calls me an “uncultured troglodyte” because I am not conversant in musical theater – you could have knocked me over with a feather! Actually, he has become a bit of a sounding board for me on fandom related business…we have a sort of quid pro quo arrangement. He will listen to me blather about Armitage related topics in return for having a live audience to relate the latest Dragon Age on dit to. Although I now know waaaay more I need to know about the pending release of Dragon Age: Inquisition, and the resultant raging in the DA fandom (and also that Henry Cavill is a DA fanboy), the trade off is that my 16 year old seeks *me* out to chat!
Secondly, having come down with a head cold (which is probably more to blame for the vertigo than ITS 🙂 ) I was feeling pretty lousy Wednesday morning when I opened my email to find this from a friend who was in London:
I’ve been excited to see each and every account that has come in from people who’ve seen The Crucible in London, whether they were posted by strangers or good friends, but I’d be a giant liar if I didn’t admit that I’ve also been a little sad in spots that I’ll not be able to see what so many have described as a “must see” performance. Even so, it brought a smile to my face and a tear to my eye to think that my friend would be bringing me along, if only in spirit!
So goes the mood altering mojo of a little Armitageworld intervention! It also did not hurt to read the accounts of Monday evening’s Conversation in which Richard Armitage recounts a certain amount of trepidation at taking the role of John Proctor in the first place, and doubts in the midst of the run if he could continue to rise to the challenge again and again.
He did take the role, he can do it, he does power through it performance after performance and he has apparently come to the realization that he’s not afraid anymore. That is something I need to consider. Things that I thought were immutable…maybe not. Maybe it’s just fear that’s stopping me from taking steps to move the stone.