(Note to readers: This is the first official DrAstroZoom Myspace blog simulcast.)
Last weekend, I had two remarkably similar dreams in one night. They still have me somewhat baffled.
In the first dream, I was to play a leading role in a musical version of “Hamlet.” (It may have even been Hamlet himself, but I’m not sure.) The production had a rock-opera feel to it along the lines of what Andrew Lloyd Webber might have generated had he set his sights on the Prince of Denmark rather than the Prince of Peace. And it was in a far more ornate theater than I’ve ever performed in.
On the first day of tech week, however, I was attacked by birds that pecked at my legs. I was left with unsightly sores that threatened infection. Regardless, I attempted to soldier on, but my performance that night was horrible.
Later that night, a similar dream came. This time, I was the Emcee in Cabaret, and again, the venue had a professional (if antiquated) feel about it. As I left the dressing area to go on, I realized the ramps to the stage had been removed. I somehow made it on stage, only to discover the stage was drenched, causing me to slip and slide, even at one point flying from a raised portion of the stage to a lower level down center. Again, my performance was wild, sloppy and generally pathetic.
And that’s all I remember.
I immediately dismissed the idea that these dreams were related to my current show. Actually, “Annie Warbucks” is going quite well and is a far cry from what devoted readers will lovingly remember as “Theater Armageddon.” My next audition is for “Assassins,” but that audition date had not been announced when I had these dreams, and I hadn’t even begun pre-obsession over it.
All I know is this pair of dreams were as vivid as any I’ve had for months. I also found it curious that not only was I clearly in a wheelchair in both dreams, but it played a part in the “plot” of both. This, too, is relatively rare for me.
In other news, Mrs. Z is headed to southern Illinois tomorrow for her sister’s 25th wedding anniversary. She has mercifully allowed me to stay home, seeing as I’m moving into the most grueling part of my AW rehearsal schedule. Still, even one night away from her is cause for sadness. I’ll have my mom to take me to dinner and a movie, but that doesn’t hold a candle to Mrs. Z. (Sorry, Mom.)
All that said, I’m not remotely in the state of melancholy this post would seem to indicate. Quite the obvious: life is good right now, and as Howard Jones sang, “Things can only get better.”
Who oh ohhh oh who ohhh oh, indeed.
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