Notes from House of Tarot rehearsal:
There aren’t enough veils to go around, so a helpful dancer loans me one. The costume veils are long black lace, and the loaner is short and covered in flowers. Putting it over my face instantly turns me into the goofy ghost while everybody else is serving spooky drama.
Doing a five-minute arm drill is fine. Doing a five-minute arm drill using your peripheral vision while seeing migraine auras is a kind of psychedelic torture. Why didn’t I just stop? Only the Beastie Boys can answer that.
Learning formation changes means we start bumping into each other a lot. A friendly camaraderie develops between bodies that collide over and over. I’m not paying attention properly when a dancer says she’d like to fix it, and she says, “Okay, I guess Angie doesn’t care,” and I realize I just decided it was inevitable.
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