When I first started to work on a play for a professional theatre company, I did sound design. I loved working with the board, loved the feel of the knobs beneeth my had. I loved knowing that i could control something so big as SOUND. Part of the program was that each student would have a proffessional mentor to whome they would share all thoughts and ideas about whatever section of the prouction we were in charge of. I felt sort of awekward around my mentor at first. I mean he was PROFFESSIINAL for heaven's sake. every thing in theatre that I wanted to be. Nominated and winning for multiple Helen Hays Awards. But at the end of the first year, I felt comfortable around him.1
The second time I did the program, he was my mentor again and it wasn't awekward to talk to him at all.2
One of the most painful but the most exilarating things about theatre is the opening night when everyone is high on pure adrenalin and everyone is annoying to everyone else because no one can stay in one place. I always feel a little sad though, because after long months and almost literally going through hell during Hell Week (Dry and Dress Tech), it's suddenly all over. It doesn't seem quite as over for the booth and running crew and maybe even the actors because they have a run to put on. But the design team always feels a little melencholy. It is completly nervewracking to think that after so much work, your ideas and designs will be going out into the great public.3
My mentor became like a parent to me. I don't know, but I think he would be kind of wierded out by it, but it's true. I'm probably just a kid who went into and out of his life quickly but to me he was what kept me grounded on some days. He would keep me on track and tell me it would be ok in the end and that he would fix it. Matt, i love you...in a completly platonic sense.4
Adding your comment: