Wiping My Feet At The Door

Saturday night I'm standing in the sand of the beach at the west end of Davie Street at Beach Ave in Vancouver. There's a bottle of wine being consumed. I'm picking up trash off of the beach trying not to let on that I'm flush with emotion and straining to keep it light. I am at the Pacific ocean, ten days after I last stood in the Atlantic. I'm wearing the same shoes and dress pants. My funeral attire.

The sand from Chance Harbor in Nova Scotia was still stuck in the grip on the sole of my shoes. Now the sand and dust of the beach in Vancouver has mingled in. I think I've ruined the shoes.

I couldn't really care about that. My gaze keeps going over the water and I don't know what to do with my hands. So I drink more wine and have a cigarette.

My childhood best friend's father past just after my grandfather. Both men were the foundations of formative memories. I'm feeling the effects of their passing, but more over my heart has broken for my father and my friend. All I can do is be there for them, knowing that I have no idea what they are going through.

Tomorrow morning, I return to week two of the Summer Lab Intensive. Sadly, one of the instructors and another Labbit have both lost loved ones recently, and there has been a fair bit of travel for funerals this weekend. It's tragic when these events synch up, but it's also life. Tomorrow morning, we get back to work, it's what our loved ones would want us to do.

Just inside the door of the Big Secret Theatre, a wet bath towel is put down every morning. Our shoes go off to the side, but the wet towel is used to wipe off dirt so that it's not tracked into the space and then picked up by our feet, hands and any other body part that contacts the floor. We spend a fair amount of time doing floor work and it's best to be clean when your face down on the deck contorted and breathing deeply.

The phrase "Wipe your feet at the door" also speaks about your emotional and mental state when you enter the theatre. Although at times personal emotions and situations can rear up and demand to be given five minutes of alone time in the dressing room, we are here to do a job. We're here to work. Leave the personal drama outside of the space so that you can focus on the theatre. Be generous in your creative offers, be awesome to everyone, and wipe your feet at the door. That's kinda how I try to be professional with the work.

When I walked off of the beach that night, I wiped my feet briefly on the grass before the asphalt. It can take a long time to say goodbye, but you have to start by saying goodbye.