an actor dies

could we start again please?

today was John's funeral, and reality happened.  in actuality, reality happened friday with the accident, but until today it all felt suspended.  i cannot hope to wake up any longer.

it is complete now, two ends of time are neatly tied.

i didn't think i'd feel like this.  he had fallen into one of the periphery circles of my life--there, but not as close as he once was.  a few days ago, i would not have recalled much of his influence in my life.  As i sat among the mourners, though, memories unhinged themselves from the dark recesses of my brain and danced into the spotlight.

in a way, i am glad he was saved in the last few years of his life.  i saw the comfort it brought him through his trials.  i, however, seem to be missing the chromosome that allows one to believe in higher powers and heavens.  i have grown comfortable in not believing, and while this leaves me with more questions than answers, i realize i cannot understand the ways the universe works.

in my non-traditional mish-mash of spirituality, i have been given some comfort from the Book of Runes.  I meditate on Hagalaz in times like this The more severe the disruption in your life, the more significant and timely the requirements for your growth.  The universe and your own soul are demanding that you do, indeed, grow.  The Runes teach that death is but a successful conclusion to a journey; that the lessons required of you are learned.  i guess i wish i understood those lessons better.

my best memories of John were of him on the stage.  i had the privilege of acting with him on numerous occasions, during which i became a far better actor.  he brought out characters i didn't know i could play, which in turn, taught me more about the dark recesses of myself.  any actor worth his salt knows that all the parts lie within you, and you are the one to draw them out.  in my mind, his finest hour was in The Fantastiks, sitting on a crate downstage singing Try to remember the kind of September, when life was slow and oh, so mellow


i saw ghosts in that theatre, and one day, i would like to join them in their mischief.  if there is any afterlife, i hope mine is there whispering through the walls and shutting off lights.  mostly, though, i hope in John's final hours his memories drew him back there as well, to under the brights, taking a bow on closing night to a standing ovation.

cupcake zen

lately, I have found a new love of cooking.  I moved into my first big-girl apartment in May, and have been experimenting in the kitchen ever since.  since I turned 21 in December, I realized that I really, really like to make cupcakes.

i'm not particularly good at baking, and I don't really follow a recipe.  I just make cake batter from a box, frosting from a can, and go from there.  I like picking out their little skirts that I bake them in and finding cute color combinations.  today it was red velvet cake and cream cheese frosting.

maybe one day, I will make them from scratch.  for now, I will just make cupcakes bi-weekly or so and invite my friends over to eat them.

I find myself baking when I am conflicted or stressed out.  Classes start back up tomorrow, which is exciting, but always daunting.  part of me will always worry that "the other kids won't like me," even though I am a college junior and that is a silly thought.  This batch, though, are grief cupcakes.  They are for John, a close family friend that passed away suddenly this week.  Perhaps I will bring some to his daughters.

the process of mixing, scooping, baking, frosting is cathartic in some strange way.

my cupcakes are not picture perfect, but they are tasty.