As we pulled up I noticed the sad lawn, and as we walked up to the front entrance my eyes went straight to the chipping buff-colored paint on the columns. I thought to myself, "This poor building is so ignored and seems to be just dying." I have to admit that my hopes for anything uplifting were low given the appearance of the playhouse.
Immediately upon entering the building we were greeted by a couple of energetic twenty-somethings who were thrilled to see us and showed us exactly where we could purchase our tickets and pick up a program. We walked downstairs and the buzz got stronger around the box office as many of the players and staff seemed to be electrically charged running around taking care of final details before the evening got started.
Seven short plays in about an hour and a half. A lot of variety, from horror to comedy, from broken relationships to newly beginning ones. Of course, as in any artistic collection, I felt more involved in some of the works than in others. The tender light comedy about the first wooing (Adam and Eve) was sweet and real and believable. I loved it. In the Q and A after the plays one of the playwrights commented on a common belief he disagreed with. He said that too many people think keeping stories and principles at a distance somehow makes them more sacred. He said many people might feel uncomfortable portraying Adam and Eve's possible dialogue in anything but scriptural language. He believes things become more sacred, often, when they are more part of our regular existence. It made me really think.
My husband and I are pretty good about talking about ideas. As a matter of fact, we often enjoy going to dinner after a play or a movie so that we can talk about what we liked or disliked, not only on the technical side of things, but on the theoretical side. Last night was no different, and as we ate we considered some of the writing, and even directing, along with intentions in the plot. It was a nice night.
So, as I woke up this morning I realized that I shouldn't allow myself to ever get caught up in making a judgement based on an outward impression. That old house had a lot of life left in it in the form of enthusiastic people trying to make us think about anything but weeds and chipped paint.