Something New

Hello!

Because I'm on hiatus from theatre, I've started a separate blog for my general adventures in life, writing, art and beyond. Come check out my new stuff here!

-Jess

Intro to Stage Management...

This is a video project I did for my friend Monica, for her first year students. I think it might be fun to do a series of these around different professions...of course, now that I'm separating myself from some of my colleagues and buddies it would be more complicated...

Anyway, so this is me..pretending to be on a 'show', and this Episode is a crash course in stage management :D

Things I'll Miss

...things we say backstage, in the vans, to each other...that no one outside the company will understand.

...my new nickname 'J.O.' ...will become unneccessary. *sigh*

..Driving. Yes, drivin' in my Blue Van.

..Fun local crews.

...beautiful theatres.

..old haunted theatres.

..new awesome theatres.

...finding the little coffee shops and delicious restaurants in out-of-the-way places.

..watching audience reactions.

...all the people in the cast. Yes, all of them. Especially my Montana colleagues, my old tour buddies.

..headset chatter.

...surprisingly awesome hotels (Holiday Inn Express!)

...free food.

..the preshow music.

The tour.

At this time I don't know when I'll be touring again. Maybe 2011, who knows? This blog may go quiet for awhile, because I'm working on a different project, but I'll try to update with theatre trivia, stories, pictures, opinions and fun. I will also keep you posted on the project I'm working it.

Happy trails, have a good one... and hey, go see a show!

Home is Where the Amenities Are

Brief post today, about to leave for a morning show!

One of the fun things about tour is knowing that you'll have immediate allies when you roll into town. Some crews are better than others, of course. Some adopt you into their fold right away and you feel as if you might have known each other for ever, that you love theatre for the same reasons and you can connect on a fun, deeper level and enjoy the work even more. Those are the best days.

The other best days are when you can tell some money was dropped to make the theatre itself a comfortable place for performers to "live" and work in. Really, rolling into town to find a small, dirty, 'cold' space...not a dream come true. But rolling in to find a -maybe older, settled, but still comfortable theatre? Where the dressing rooms are thoughtfully arrayed near the stage, there are sofas and sinks and showers and carpeted floors so that offstage time is as comfortable as possible? That's a treat.

Some theatres actually have cable and wireless internet, and a comfortable, local coffee shop three blocks down. Thanks for that, Danville Kentucky!

On days like that, there's really no reason to go back to the hotel, right? I mean, if there's a place to sleep, check email, wash your face, get a cup of joe? ...that's all I ever need in a day. So that's why I say, home is where the amenities are.

Have a great Tuesday.

And a Little Child Shall Lead Them

Elizabethtown, Kentucky

I want to lead off by saying that Kentucky is still one of the most beautiful states in the nation, and it doesn't seem to matter what season. In the spring it's bright green, and in the fall are autumn colors splashed everywhere, rolling mists and frosty mornings. Yesterday as we drove (early!) everything was gold and smelled like woodsmoke. For a couple of minutes, I felt like I was driving through the Flathead Valley.

We had a small but mighty audience here in Kentucky. The best crowd was last night. They loved the humor, they wept at the parts full of grief. And many of them stayed for our post-show talkback. The most poignant part of that was how many families attended the show and stayed to talk with the cast.

The first audience member to meet the cast was a tiny boy, whose father lifted him onto the stage so he could introduce himself - his name? Atticus. He shook hands with the cast and, of course, I was too slow on the draw to get a picture of this beautiful moment. Next a young girl in the balcony started to charge downstairs to ask her question when Katie said she could call from the balcony. ("How long have you been doing this?") Then the family came down to sit at the orchestra level for the rest of the talkback.

Another young girl asked if it was hard for Tom to be sad during the play, and for Atticus - "The man in the white suit" how long he had to work on his lines, and how old was the character Jem... I loved that not only did these families come to see this show together, but they remained to talk about it with the people who came to tell the story... and I hope they're still talking about it.

From Georgia

Happy Hump Day all!

Going through some serious brain re-structuring the last couple of days, mostly because I had too much time on my hands. Day off? What? There are no days off in theatre!

Anyway, just considering what I want to do with the blog, if I still want to participate in Nanowrimo (see exciting orange icon to the right), and so on. Now, before anyone who I happen to have pressured into also doing Nanowrimo gives me any grief, let me say I have 'played' and won for several years running. I know I can do a rough, clunky, awkward draft in a month. Just deciding if it's what I want to spend what's leftover over of my precious tour energy on - especially when I have a novel that desperately needs its ending rewritten so that I can submit it before the end of the year. That was my promise to myself, and time is ticking. I feel very little passion for any story that's in my head right now, except the one that's been clinging to me for years and has yet to be really completed finished - in the sense of a final draft. This may be the first year I bow out of Nano, but not because I don't want to Write. So I'll keep you posted on that.

In real theatre news, today we depart from Newnan, Georgia. It turned out to be one of those towns you never hear of until you show up, then meet with pleasant surprises. Turns out, not only does this part of Georgia have beautiful crisp fall weather complete with autumn colors, but Newnan is a charming (if quiet) town that doesn't mind dumping a little money on the Arts. I was hopeful as we drove down a winding, tree-lined avenue toward the theatre and saw that it was across the street from a members-only golf course, reminiscent of the pricey clubs back home.

Not only was the center itself beautiful, filled with art exhibits, a decent stage, clean house and a green room worthy of an episode of Masterpiece Theatre, but they treated us well. A beautiful meal and warm welcome awaited us.

It turned out that our load in crew consisted of white-collar convicts from the local prison, but hey... you can't have it all.

Happy trails.

Happy Halloween Pics

Here with my beautiful friend Lily...any Futurama fans out there?

Leather band was purchased and distressed. Metal bits found in a junk bin in the pawn shop. Gold pocket watch found at "Paul's Shop" in Cleveland, MS.

Calling the show in style!

The whole picture :D

All righty! Here are the pics of the costume. I was pretty darn happy with most of it. I still need to get detail shots of the goggles. If I'd had more time and resources, I would have made them truly functional in my usual obsessive way.

The watch is functional. :D And I "built" (as we say in theatre) both those pieces, and the broom.

Monday Mingle

Hey folks... Here's a little something different. Thanks to Lauren for the invite to mingle... It was kind of quick and I say 'uhm..' a lot..but it was fun to do and I feel all internet snazzy. Basically you get a series of questions, answer them in a mingling fashion and...then watch other people's mingles!
Sorry about not quite looking at the camera at the end, but... I'm shy ;) I also stole one of last week's questions and didn't realize it until now..but it's because I'm tired, and I refuse to cut it.

Muaha. Anyway...here's a little slice of Yours Truly.

Apparently, my favorite word is "interesting..."

A Ghost Story

From the deep heart of the South, the land of cotton... this past week we played two shows at the beautiful Grand Theatre in Macon, Georgia. Built in the 1800's, it was a cozy, ornate old opera house gilded with gold and statues and lion's heads, hidden doors, secret halls... and a ghost.

In 1971 the old house manager disappeared for days. One day they finally noticed his car in the parking lot, and searched every nook and cranny of the old theatre. They finally found his body up in the fourth floor, attic-level rafters of the old thunder room. A bottle of alcohol, tranquilizers and a gun sat next to his body.

Because he had laid there so long in the Georgia heat, his bodily fluids and fats had melted out of him into the floorboards of the room..so there is a stain of where he was, to this day. His name was Randall...and the only thing that makes him angry is if you say aloud that you don't believe.

This door leads to the booth...

I heard the story and had planned to take 'the ghost' tour later with everyone else. I ended up finding it on my own. The way to the booth where I call the show involved climbing three flights of a narrow, curved, tight metal staircase, creeping through old, crumbling doors and walking through disused, dusty third-balcony seating. It was so beautiful and spooky and full of history, and I noticed the stairs went one flight higher, so I climbed on up to look...
And ducked through the little rooms and passages until I found myself in the old thunder room. In the center of the room was a string of rope light that pulsed softly - from below, it lit up a series of stars pierced in the sky-painted ceiling of the house. From where I stood, it was a tangled white coil that illuminated the scene of the suicide committed so long ago. I was going to walk in and see 'the place'...but I felt as if I couldn't move.

Whether from my own superstition or fear, I felt as if a soft wall blocked me from that room. I didn't step in. I wished Randall peace, and I went back down again.

Happy Halloween.

This year's pumpkin, by yours truly.

New Look

Just a brief note to point out (if you didn't notice), my snazzy new look! Thanks to Lauren ^-^ over at (Mis)Adventures for the tip...

Hurrah!

Sorry if the blog takes a little longer to load, but don'cha just love it?

I'd write but...I have to go do some theatre stuff...

Macon, GA today...

Round Up:

Weather: Beautiful and sunny (after days of rain)
Theatre: The Grand in Macon, GA
Hotel: Best Western with overly enthusiastic yet stern Front Desk Manager
Wildlife spotted: Two hawks flew over the road yesterday
Shows remaining: 17

Outlook? Pennies from Heaven..

Down Home

The Princess Theatre in Decatur, AL - and a full house.

I realize it's been awhile since I've spoken on the importance of a good cup of coffee. Being down in the South has renewed my commitment to always having a decent cup of Joe on hand, however. It just isn't that important of a Thing, down here. I have purchased, for my tour survival, an air-tight container in which to store my grounds. Having noticed how coffee suffers under the constant humidity and temperature changes as we travel on our merry way, I think it was only common sense to buy a special container.

This week's blend: Starbucks Kitamu African blend...delicious, spicy & floral. I also make it too strong so it's POW with two whole mini packets of half & half.

But enough about coffee (okay, never enough, but enough for now)... we were speaking about the south. It has been a special treat to perform this play in Alabama. The last few years we've been through the state, I never felt anything particularly special except to notice a certain kind of obnoxious aggression in their driving. Bringing this story down here, however, has enlightened me to the true spirit of Alabama.

Even in the rain, I somehow noticed the beautiful scenery - sprawling highways flanked by autumn trees, rise of gray rocks and misty hills. Even the kudzu vine, lush with fall rain, has a certain, ominous beauty to it.

The people have received us well. It's less like Texas, where they cherish the story, and more like coming home. They appreciate us telling this tale. For a little while, we're among our neighbors. They've fed us well, treated us well, embraced us (literally) as their friends and co-conspirators in the arts and in storytelling.

It was different in Mississippi, where they (like the Texans), had a touching, heart-strings kind of connection to our American, southern tale... but Alabama has been like home.

Heck, I'll say it... it's been sweet home... Alabama.

Writing from Opelika...where - from hotel to venue to restaurant - they know you by name, and treat you like family.

And now, back to our regularly schedule blogging

From Lafayette, LA

Back in the South, baby! There's something about being back down here that wakes up something inside me. Maybe it's all the great writers who came out of the south, or just the particularly haunting history. This deep, in the land of bayous and boudin and crawfish and music and voodoo... well, who wouldn't be inspired? I know it's a thrill for the actors to play down here. They soak up the people and land like sponges and then...squeeze it out on stage.

That's right, squeeze.

Since I've written we've been through Stillwater, OK (our first real southern stop), three cities in Texas and a drive-day over the TX-LA border. It's the people, the drawl, the deep calm and amusement and the communities. Of course they're not all tight-knit, small, sweet southern communities that are stereotypical...but the stereotypes come from somewhere. In Crockett, TX, over eight hundred people traveled in from outside the county to see our play. That's pretty darn cool. The arts are alive and well in the south.

Today's post is a little rambly, I know...think of it as a red dirt road through southern Oklahoma or a little trail through east Texas cypress trees...

Here's the story I wanted to tell, because it summed up my experience so far in the south: We have a lot of challenges in Crockett. It's a tiny space that was converted into a theatre after serving as the tractor-pull arena. We chuckle, we sneer (despite the messages of class-ism in our play), yet they bring us in, they bring in shows and people attend in droves. I went over the preshow speech with the local presenter to make sure he would mention turning off cell phones and our ban on photography.

Later I was walking ahead of him and another lady, and they were discussing 'no flash photography.' I paused and, being in Stage Manager mode, may have looked mildly obsessed and frantic, and said, "I just want to make sure you say no photography - of any kind, please."

He stopped, a solidly built, clean-cut southern gentlemen, looked me calmly in the face for a moment, and in his low drawl murmured, "Jess. It'll be all right. I'll say it, and they'll listen, or they won't."

I have been stressing ately and constantly checking myself against frustration and compulsive, paranoid checking up on other people... I think now whenever I need to pause and center I will think of that Texas man and hear that low calm voice.

It'll be all right.

National Novel Writing Month...

National Novel Writing Month...counting down the days.

P.S.... i has a twitter...

https://twitter.com/directorsays


Submissions welcome. ;) Might not be able to credit you, and all directors are anonymous. But it deserves its own page...as it were.

The Last Word on Customer Service...then back to the show

Had a beautiful "drive day" with three of the other ladies in the company a couple of days ago. Departing Pueblo, CO (quite a cool little stop, actually..awesome coffee shop and local Irish pub with amazing food and beer and - the Sangre di Cristo Arts Center. Yes, that's right..the Blood of Christ Arts...)

I digress. New paragraph. We weren't traveling via interstate that day so we couldn't utilize that amazing traveling book known as The Next Exit Handbook - more useful than a pocket on a shirt! But it only lists restaurants and such off interstate exits. So we decided that, as we were cutting through the northeast corner of New Mexico, we'd take our chances on the last town on the way out of the state, because it was in bold letters so was probably decent size, and try to find some delicious New Mexican style food.

Enter: Clayton, New Mexico. At first it struck us as many unfamiliar small towns seem too. It was drab, a little run down, "not much there." I saw a restaurant I liked the name of: The Rabbit Ear Cafe..." But it was shut down. We drove on, considering both the Grill & Steakhouse (ready to let the one vegetarian in the car fend for herself) ..or the questionable Burrito Wagon parked in front of the local bank.. but we drove on! Confident in our choice of town, and craving Spanish rice and red & green sauce.

Then I saw...A new, brightly painted sign, peach colored walls and the name that read: The Rabbit Ear Cafe. It wasn't closed, just relocated to newer, bigger, prettier building! We saw cowboys out front with working, saddled horses in their trailers, families and old couples. It was packed - probably a good choice.

And it was. Not only was the food delicious, there was local art on the walls (some by the Crafts hour at the local penitentiary, some by more legit artists - beautiful works of metal), but the people were awesome. Enter Erma, our 5'5", stocky, middle aged waitress with no-nonsense, wiry brown and gray hair, a big smile and a fading yellow t-shirt with two suckers on it that read, "Sugar Daddy. Who's Your Daddy?"

As we were settling the tab at our table, an older couple entered to sit down at a table near us. I noticed them because they were a handsome couple, distinguished, and sweet. The man pulled out the lady's chair before he sat. A few minutes later he stood up and came to our table. He introduced himself as the pastor of the local Baptist church, asked about our travels and complimented Ramona (our Calpurnia) on her hat. ("Oh, that's Your van outside!") It was a beautiful, brief moment of human contact. I love those exchanges. He saw a few strangers and took some time to give of his kindness and energy. If I was in the South I would say it was, all in all, a very Christian thing to do.

Erma then directed us to the local coffee shop, a perfectly square little brick building on the other edge of town (half a mile away). I thought it had closed because of the hours posted and the door not opening when I tried the knob... But a woman came running out to catch us. Delicious coffee, more kind words. I remember the couple. She may have been of Native American descent, with nut-brown skin and black, black hair. The man struck me the same way, dark tan, dark eyes. I hope they had children together. They had the little place stuffed with beautiful, rough wood furniture, polished to varying dark stains. It was all made of reclaimed barn wood and I probably would've bought a table set if I had any place to put it.

Sometimes random stops aren't so lucky and fun and poignant. Sometimes it's easier to find the local Subway, grab a sandwich and run. It's really a gamble, and a bad day can make a grumpy van-full of people (with good stories later), but not a good experience in their hearts.
So we made a good choice to stop in Clayton, a little town with one amazing restaurant, one firecracker waitress, a kind and handsome pastor and his wife, and a beautiful couple at the coffee shop full of art and furniture.

And then we drove on.

Mantis from Logan, UT says,
"The world can't help but be a piece of art.
It's just up to you to adjust the composition so everyone can see it."

A Word on Customer Service

I consider theatre to be not only an art, but also a convoluted form of customer service. After all, without the audience, aren't we performing in a void? And by performing in a void, I mean just playing pretend. Without someone to watch you, you're just walking around like a crazy person. Once you have an audience, you are officially telling a story.

There's so much that goes into that these days. I sometimes long for the theatre of ancient Greece - although even then I'm sure the actors got a note if the audience couldn't hear. Now we play in all sorts of different spaces, with good or rotten sound, good or rotten sight lines, good or rotten audiences. And sometimes, a good or rotten show. Yet every night we put it out there; the story that is our product - and hope that the audience, who has already bought it, enjoys it.

I consider my particular job a bigger form of customer service because I'm always "on" for the company, for the local crew, for the audience members who complain, and for the house managers and so forth.

Last night a charming gentleman charged his way backstage by claiming he had a "press pass," something I hadn't been warned about, and made straight for the Equity dressing rooms. I intercepted him and politely guided him to the green room to wait for an actor who was willing to do a last-minute interview. Because the man was so taken with the show and writes for a local paper, it was especially important that he be treated well and not kicked out or berated for coming backstage to speak with half-naked actors - especially when that is the norm for the space. He was also extremely polite and kind. So not only are we artists "selling" our product, we are also guests in the space and must be bendable to its rules.

I was happy with how everyone handled the situation, and proud that we were all "on" for this local man, who promises to write a wonderful review.

Because I try to put out the effort to be professional, friendly and - well, nice, I wanted to tell a couple of stories of people who, in the last couple of days, put in no such effort at all. These are the first impressions in the world I had of these people, and how I will remember them, when I think of them at all. It made me make note to myself to consider carefully how I want to be remembered when I leave a place. So here they are:

...The local crewman whose first words to us were to happily tell of a time in Texas when he got out his pellet gun and killed five mockingbirds because there were "so many."

...The same crewman who told nominally funny, dirty jokes to our female crew at the end of load out. Out of our working brand of politeness, he even got a couple of courtesy laughs.

...The hotel manager who felt it was okay to discipline her staff in front of customers in the lobby. Situation: I was eating my breakfast and this woman was having a lengthy conversation with the front desk attendant about the state of Clutter behind the desk. The important issue escalated into raised voices and hurt feelings. I felt as if I was watching a badly written reality TV show... Hotels: Check Out!

I wonder if the woman realizes that people are generally less concerned with clutter behind the front desk as they are with awkwardly overhearing management berating their employees (and all because "clutter" is below this hotel's standard). I told this to other company members and they all had little stories of their own in a similar vein.

I actually found it amusing. The front desk situation, that is. The crewman in question from last night just left a bad feeling in my belly. Certainly he comes from a different background, but for your first funny story to crew of To Kill a Mockingbird be about killing mockingbirds...?

In other words:

If indeed you must be candid, be candid beautifully. -Kahlil Gibgran

Previously, on This Theatre Life...

Happy, happy October!

Here's a beeline brush through our stops...

Logan, UT

We love Logan! Anyone who has been there and remembers it will be smiling. We played the beautiful Ellen Eccles theatre, which converts to an opera festival in the summer. What an incredible drive. I wish the Rep could continue a tradition of holding a national tour in the autumn. As we meandered over winding roads around mountains, massive bluffs and valleys and sparkling blue rivers against bright yellow birch trees...I filled with a completely different energy than I have in summer.

The town welcomed us warmly. The crew was laid back, fun, witty and friendly. I love venues where we click immediately and it's like working with old friends. We get a lot of those crews "out West" because we just get each other. So despite the 3.2 alcohol percentage..it's still a good time.

I visited some haunts - the Blue Bird cafe for icecream, the Persian Peacock boutique for some *aheM* fun feminine unmentionables, and Cafe Ibis for funky and delicious coffee. Also went hiking up in the Cache national forest to the glorious Wind Caves. Pictures on Facebook! All in all an amazing stop...

Park City, UT

Honestly the highlight of Park City for me was finding the candy shop where my sister worked when she lived in the town several years ago. I bought some of her favorite treats and sent them off...

The theatre was housed in the local highschool, but it was a huge, professional-grade operation. More awe-inspiring scenery.. hillsides splashed in red and gold against stark gray rock. What a perfect time of year to be driving through the country. It was still Indian Summer, then we drove on to...

Aspen, CO

The second of our glamorous tourist-town stops. Our welcome in Park City had been quiet but intent. It was very odd for the actors to play to a disturbingly quiet, "polite" audience. In Aspen, however, not only were we housed in a beautiful chalet with a swimming pool hot tub, sauna, steam room and free hot breakfast - all a thirty second walk from cutesy Down Town... the welcome was warm.

A local writer's organization sponsored the show as part of their Big Read celebration, and so the response was grand. I had been expecting something more like Avon, CO...a small crowd, polite golf-clap type responses. But not so in sunny Aspen. They laughed, they wept...hands shot right up at the post-show discussion and the writers asked such fun questions as "Do you ever Dream about the show?"

Finally, I write from.... Fort Collins, CO!

Again, anyone who's been here will know how much the company anticipated this stop. With something for everyone (food, shopping, coffee, breweries..wine, music..), it's practically like a working vacation. We had a great first performance, and two relatively successful school shows on Wednesday morning.

The weather has been amazing. Tuesday we were all still wearing shorts, sundresses and tank tops. Wednesday after the noon show, dark clouds and a cool front blew in, scattering leaves and hats and hairdos all over town. It never quit blowing and today, the First of October, I feel it is officially autumn. So with a burgeoning feeling of content happiness, I offer good wishes from Fort Collins, and this vision from a much better wordsmith than I...Here's to good harvests in all your endeavors.

October by Robert Frost

O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow's wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
Tomorrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow.
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know.
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;
One from our trees, one far away.
Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst

Slow, slow!
For the grapes' sake, if they were all,
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost--
For the grapes' sake along the all.

Synthesis

Today I write from Twin Falls, ID, a surprising town tucked away in a "magic" valley. We crossed a bridge to get here, over what could have been the Grand Canyon's beautiful, green little sister. Expecting to see the great Snake River below, we peered out the van windows and saw - a golf course, sprawled along the bottom of the canyon. Oh, the river was there too. Still it was green, and green is beautiful.

We also welcomed Mikel, our first and regular Atticus, back into the fold yesterday. I'm not sure why I was expecting a rougher time than we had when he rejoined us. We ran the show once before go time last night, and he stepped right back into Maycomb as if he'd never left. Again, I don't know what I was expecting. There is still a little gel-ing work to be done with his rhythms and the new people..for the few minutes I felt as if I was watching a cutout of Mikel walking around onstage; it seemed so odd to see him again without having had the re-familiarization that the rest of the cast got... but if you'd never seen Kelly onstage, you wouldn't know the difference. Twin Falls certainly didn't.

That is, we had an excellent response in this city. People took in the story with open arms and hopped to their feet at the end to cheer.

So cheers again to the consummate professionals...it certainly makes my job easier.

Note to anyone else: Run everything. Of a flawless show, certain call was the one thing I was confident we didn't need to run and, of course, the only hiccup. Ah well.

We need the occasional bumps to appreciate the smoothness.

The Moment

One of my favorite parts about being a stage manager is getting to see how the audience reacts to a show. I watch, I enjoy, I analyze. I'm slowly figuring out how you can tell whether an audience (or even just one person) is with you, and will stay with you through the rest of the show. There's a few things that can happen right away to let you know they're on board:

They laugh...
They cry (sometimes in the first moments)..
They lean forward..
They look at the person next to them (More on that another day).

And my personal favorite...the moment of identification. Oh dear, that sounds like something from a psychology class. So I'll call it the moment of Breath. It's that sound you hear when someone sees something they know, something they recognize or have experienced, when they see something True. It's that, 'Hmh' sound, a soft release of the breath and throat. Sometimes it's louder, almost a laugh. Sometimes it's softer or so profoundly felt you can almost hear them say 'amen.'

It's when an audience member sees a child run across stage and catch a football and release that soft breath as they think, 'I know that child. I was that child. I Have that child...I know these people and this story. Tell me more.'

When someone reads or sees or hears something deep, meaningful or just simple yet universal, you hear that moment of breath - the moment of Agreement. It happens in plays too, and I know the audience has stepped on board for the rest of the journey. Even if they aren't loud, weeping or laughing, they have joined the story because in it, they see themselves.

Happy Monday...hope you see something beautiful and true today.

Be it Ever so Humble

It has truly been strange to tour to Whitefish, my home town. As I drove from Missoula to home, I couldn't shake the feeling that everything felt off. Not in a bad way, but definitely off. For me, driving to Whitefish always means some time off, or that it's summer. Now, it's hot, hospitable autumn and I've headed home...to work.

For everyone else, tour has begun, but I'm sitting at home typing this quickie, while they coordinate vans up on Big Mountain and set out looking for dinner. I had a tuna melt from the toaster in my parent's kitchen. So it's an odd feeling, but the most immeasurable part of it is how proud I am. Like my mom, I believe in 'riding for the brand.' I got my education in Montana, I love the University despite whatever flaws it has and I'm so happy to be giving my work back to Montana. I have strong, good memories of my experience, my friends and professors there.

I also have strong feelings and a love for my home. So to be able to bring my work and home together fills me with pride. To say, 'Hey, this is what I've been doing with my winters for the past six years.' What do you think? It's so exciting to look out and see dozens of familiar faces sharing in what I do...and then to turn around to the company and say, 'See? This is where I come from...'

I've never realized how important that kind of feeling is. So actually, even though I'm home I suppose my tour has begun. So there really is no place like home - even if it's the beginning, rather than the end, of the journey.