This week we're performing The Grimstones at Victorian Arts Centre. When I was a child my mother used to take me there to see The Australian Ballet. We used to drive past the Stage Door and I'd see the ballerinas arriving for the evening - and I used to have these fantasies that one day it would be me arriving at the Stage Door. Now it seems my dream has come true, as every day this week I step through the Stage Door myself, sign for the keys to Dressing Room number 43 (can you believe there can be that many dressing rooms in one building?!), and then wend my way through a very complicated maze into the bowels of the arts centre.
We're having a fabulous time - the staff are all so friendly, the audiences are big and enthusiastic, and the venue is so very comfortable. The only thing is, I feel like a bit of an imposter. Like we're not really supposed to be there. Like our show isn't really of the mythical, magical and miraculous standard that shows at the Arts Centre should be. And unlike those ethereal ballerinas I used to watch on the stage when I was a child, Paula and I are very much mere mortal humans. Or is it all just a trick of the eye? Did all those ballerinas of my past also feel like imposters? I would love to know.
But something lovely happened today. We were visited in our dressing room by Emer, who has booked us to perform public shows there next year as part of her kids programme. Talking to Emer it became clear she thought us anything but imposters. In fact, she was toying with many ideas for how she can present the show in order to do it justice, to get the very very best from it, so everyone can fully appreciate the miniature world we've created. Well that made me happy!