Rain, Snow, Go Away.

First off: I swear to God, this happened last year.

Last December, the contemporary ballet company was supposed to perform our Christmas Program (Song of Mary, Emmanuel, In the Bleak Midwinter et al) at an outdoor ceremony. Because, hey, this is Texas, it can't get too cold in early December, right?

It ended up being fifty degrees that night. We did not perform.

Fast-forward to now: We're preparing to perform Letters You Wrote this Friday evening at a lovely outdoor performance space called The Artery. And of course, the meterorogists have been calling for cold weather/rain/possibly snow (I just checked Yahoo! Weather, which is currently predicting "Rain/Snow and a High of 47"). D'oh!

I'm really hoping for a weather-related miracle, because I so want to perform this show. The other day we worked the other dancers into my letter (they play my children, and they are so hilarious and delightful in doing so). Today we ran the whole show-- and man, is it going to be incredible. I love to watch the other dancers-- C dances to a letter from a soldier who visited Nagasaki during the aftermath of Hiroshima. The words are so sad, and the accompanying choreography just adds so much to it; makes it so deeply-felt that by the end of it I was in tears.
L opens the show with a lovely, soulful solo; our director dances using a coat as a prop. It's really inventive-- it starts out as Just A Coat, and throughout the piece it becomes a great many other things.

So, cross your fingers, folks-- send up prayers to the Gods of Good Weather. And then, come see us dance.