Now I Know How E. E. Cummings felt

How can I relate to anyone how wonderful a day I had? What words will possibly suffice to express what joy came with expanding the typical ninety seconds into the six glorious hours that made my day; my weekend? I hope I can find the words.

I had a really great day. Specifically, I had a really great audition. It was November when I first saw the ad for Dollywood Entertainment auditions and, being that I was still very much in a funk over my failure at FTC, it served as my first glimmer of light out of the college tunnel. I decided to go and I planned to go and I prepared to go, but as much as I had pinned on it, I walked in resolved to let it be like any other audition that I would leave behind after I walked away. I have lost my resolve. I don't want to let go of how wonderful that day was.

Although I haven't been on so many auditions that I can function on autopilot, I consider myself to be seasoned enough to know what to expect. You go in a group, the SM guides you, you have somewhere between one and two minutes to make a table of strangers care to know you better, and you're done. A very sad representation of what a nerve wracking experience that can be, but that's the gist. Imagine then, my confusion, then surprised pleasure, to come into the seeing place and find it as open as the sky. Because I wasn't in the first group to sit on the stage and try to make these strange men love me, I got to sit back and watch.

I watched and listened as entertainer after entertainer, all with some merit you rarely find in open call, took their place on the X and entertained me. In my impatience to reach the stage, I've often lost sight of what joy can be found as a part of the audience. I watched and I listened and I enjoyed. I enjoyed the songs, I enjoyed the sincerity of the performers, I enjoyed seeing how much the adjudicators genuinely enjoyed these people. I looked forward to bringing them joy that way without resenting anyone else for having the opportunity ahead of me. I know logically that not everyone up there was great and voices varied in tone and power and all these different things, but there was beauty to be found in everything and I found it without the cloud of judgement to overshadow it. For that interim of time, it seemed like my mind was on rotation, alternating between, "Oh that's precious!", "Ooooh I love this one!" and, "I really have to pee". That last one came with increasing urgency largely due to the fact that I wasn't willing to miss any more of the performance treats the open call had to offer. If they hadn't decided to take a break to transition, I very well might've just sat in the back of the theatre and wet my pants.
I almost did wet my pants when I came back to the theatre for the bathroom and saw folk singers. Folk singers! It was such an incredible transition for me and I'm super glad that I chose to step out when I did and come back to this new environment that was all at once beautiful in its own way. Earlier, I had sat thinking, This is what I would love to do. Coming back to these bands, I sat down thinking, This is what I would go to Pigeon Forge to see! I got so excited when these people came together on the stage and gave me gifts. I loved the family act whose girls had hair so long you could sit on it where the soloist who couldn't be more than eight years old and everyone wore boots with spurs. I could feel the vibrations of the bass way upstage from way in the back singing words that I didn't understand and really didn't need to hear because that sensation was enough. I felt so excited and at home that I wondered why I didn't listen to this type of music all the time. Then at the end of all this wonderful, there was a couple; a freakishly bedazzled pair of twenty-somethings who dressed and performed the kind of way I usually look for on shows like America's Got Talent. The head casting agent person guy let them do their entire song (a terrible original piece called "Poop on Your Face"...that was actually about the title), did not insult them, and when they finally stopped asked, "Do you have anything else for us?" with all the sincerity of a man who wanted to give them every opportunity to be what he wanted them to be. They didn't and they left and that was the end of the group acts, but as terrible as they were, they made me appreciate being where I was even more.
I was in the next group of individuals who went up to the chopping block and by the time I found myself standing on the blue X and the head casting agent person guy asked me how I was doing, I honestly told him, "I'm having so much fun." I was overjoyed when I was asked to stay and do a dance routine, less because I was excited about being judged on my dancing and more because I wasn't ready to leave. I was never ready to leave. Half a week later I'm still not ready to leave. The longer I was there, the mroe I wanted to stay. As self-conscious as I tend to be about my dancing and as isolated as I tend to feel among friends who go on auditions together, the stretch in the downstairs studio with these other people who, in another world, might have threatened my place, was just a fun hour or so doing something I only too rarely get to do. I remember the combination. It was fun. When I was finished, my heart was racing and my clothes were damp, and I couldn't be happier. I was having so much fun. And once again, when I thought I was finished, they asked us to come back to

I'm stopping now because this isn't working. I'm posting it because I'm supposed to share.