Over the river and through the woods

I'm good with colors.

In the spirit of the season, on Christmas Eve I took homemade cookies to some of our major donors. I called everyone before hand to make sure they would be home for the holidays. Some had forgotten that I was coming, so it was a pleasant surprise. Everyone was gracious and invited me into their homes. A few had family visiting, or were expecting company that evening. One couple was celebrating Hannukah. Many of them were spending a quiet weekend at home, waiting until warmer months to visit grown children and special grandchildren (and a few great grands, thrown in for good measure!). A few visits weren't much more than a step inside and a quick update on programming and reiteration how much they enjoyed the artistic product.

But most were so much more. One was brainstorming about people I need to contact and partnerships I should check out. One was learning much more past journeys and long-nurtured friendships. One was with a couple who'd just celebrated their 65th anniversary and one was with a recent widow who was spending her first holiday alone. Every one--without exception--was delightful and a learning experience for me.

This is what I do: develop relationships. I connect with people on an individual level, find out about them, what their interests are, who they see themselves as. Not because I have to (no one is requiring it of me), or because I should (studies routinely show donors give money to people, not causes), but because I want to. My main complaint is that I don't have more time to connect with people. Why do I ask my volunteers to come early? Not because there's that much work to do (normally), but because it gives me a chance to catch up with them before the onslaught of audience. Why do we still have letter-stuffing parties, when having the printer automatically stuff and label would be easier (although more expensive)? Because it lets all the volunteers comes together and visit.

What makes live theater so special, so intrinsic to a better community? Because it brings people together and lets them know a bit about each other a little better.

Comments

Hello Again! My 2024 Reading List

My final read of the year (oh, wow, I didn't realize I hadn't done one of these since 2020's list. What is time.) I read 48 books in 2024, slightly off my goal of a book a week, but not too shabby over all. As always, some books that will stay with me, some that were meh-for-me, and a bit of "book candy". This list is not the complete list (you can check my Ig highlight for that) but instead, the ones I really enjoyed or meant the most to me for this time of my life. These are in chronological order to when I read them. Memorable: Same as Ever: A Guide to What Never Changes by Morgan Housel This new book is a fantastic antidote to our current chicken little the sky is falling media culture (which he actually talks about it "Crazy is Normal. Calm plants the seeds of crazy.") The chapters are short, so overall a quick read, but one packed with thoughtful points. I'm pondering writing my own post about "The grass is always greener on the side fert...

New Year, New You Vision Board

VISION BOARDS! Let's get a couple of things clear, right at the start. THERE IS NO WRONG WAY TO MAKE A VISION BOARD. THIS IS NOT SCIENCE. You believe that putting pieces of pretty paper on another piece of paper calls into your life your deepest hopes and dreams, then you believe it with all your heart and soul. These are inspirational devices, not architectural blueprints. Ok, now that we have some caveats taken care of, the briefest of background before we get to the supplies and instructions (OH MY GOD THIS IS WHY THE ONLINE RECIPE BLOGS ARE LIKE THIS) I've been making vision boards consistently every year for my birthday (ish, usually on the new moon closest to my actual natal day) for a decade and before that on and off since college. I've always considered paper art as my chosen visual artistic medium, so vision boards were right up my manifestation alley. At one point in my life I wanted to work in magazine publishing (scratch that, I still do) so buying and keeping...

Death & The Theater

I was listening to a recent episode of the Tim Ferris podcast and the guest, happiness scholar Arthur C. Brooks, was discussing death meditations. And the little lightbulb in my brain turned on with the thought, "We need to talk more about death in theaters." I know, I know, that seems like an illogical statement because it feels like we're always talking about the death of theater. This whole summer has been filled with articles and op-eds from across the country about how large regional theaters are dying in major cities. But that's not the kind of death Brooks was talking about, and in reality, it isn't death these articles are complaining about, either: they are trying to stay alive in a “E’s just resting” fashion, to find some kind of life-support for the theaters, to keep them going, receive new money from new audiences or donors, new shows, new gimmicks to draw more or different people in the door. Anything to keep from dying. We don't talk about death...

Perpetually Curious

Search This Blog