Saturday night we made our way to The Groundlings for the Groundlings Yearbook sketch comedy show to see a few friends perform and do their bit. They each write their own sketches and perform them. Setting aside the fact that laughter is oh so important (and they delivered it in spades), I was struck by how good these people were at what they've chosen to do. I was reminded of watching Tiger Woods win his first Masters. Of watching Mary Lou Retton (yes, I'm aging myself) nail her perfect 10 vault run/jump/flip. Of seeing John Goodman perform in any Shakespeare play. These are people who are so good at what they do, you know you are watching greatness. That you are observing someone doing precisely that thing they are meant to be doing above all other things. To be in the presence of that perfect union between passion and talent is...wow.
Last night we saw Snow Patrol at The Greek. Setting aside the natural beauty of my favorite outdoor LA theatre and setting aside the now-too-poppy music of a once-favorite band, I experienced the same divine moment where artistic passion meets talent. Frontman Gary Lightbody has one hell of a voice and while their new album has veered a bit into mainstream poppiness for my taste - my god does he mean it when he sings. And he enjoys it. Genuinely enjoys it. The antics and ego you might expect are replaced with a joy to be performing, as his closed eyes, contorted flailing and smiling (and by smiling I mean huge grin) during every song seemed to attest. Yes, that's right - smiling. As if he couldn't believe his good fortune to be singing the same old tunes again and again for a different crowd every night. We walked slowly to our car last night and while we both agreed that we don't love their music wholesale, the heart with which they played mattered more. Most.
And so - as I attempt to juggle a hundred things (and in this I do not exaggerate, for once) while noticing that nary a one has been my writing, I feel I need to stop. Re-assess. Re-visit the priority list. Again. These lovely evenings of witnessing artists being artists has made me want to chuck my list of many things that must be done. Chuck it out the window, lock all the doors, and write and write and write. Must tell the wedding caterer of my plans...
