Groundhog Day by Darka

Another pandemic day. I woke up after hitting snooze twice….and saw my shadow. (Six more weeks of lock down?) Then crawled back under the covers to clear the cobwebs of reality out of my head.

Last March – as the severity of the pandemic first set in - I predicted we’d be missing jugglers and jazz music in the coming summer. I honestly didn’t think we’d still be hankering for them almost a year later.

Although each day feels so much the same, and blends into the next, each day is truly different. There is always one new revelation that shows itself. Some more significant than others.

When seems to be the most operative word.

When will we know if we can tour in the fall? When can we bring artists together again? When will audiences feel safe – or desperate – enough to come back to the theatre?

And then the day comes when you just know.

And you move on to the next when?

So much thinking, rather than doing.

It’s hard to predict when the planets will realign, and we can continue on with the challenging work we have done for decades...without the extra challenges of a pandemic. Work with clearer lines, parameters, context and at least a few things we can predict. (I’ll never complain about the uncertainties in this business again. I swear. Really.)

These days, nothing is predictable or concrete. Sometimes it feels like we’re in a giant maze or floating in space.

But for 317 days – give or take – we have continued to hang on as this roller coaster has taken us for spins, twirls, unexpected dips, and some surprisingly relaxing stretches. Not for the faint of heart overall.

And we wake up each morning – another Groundhog Day - hoping we won’t see our shadow… and that this wintery hibernation – with the odd roller coaster ride and odder space trip added - will end.