My heart hurts and tears come as we said goodbye again yesterday at the PMT studio. Looking around, you wouldn't think much of the piles of costumes and boxes of props, but they are treasure to some. What is it about those dusty dance floors and sagging beams that pull so on my heart? Nothing particularly attractive about the space, but to me it is beautiful.
A place where I was challenged to grow. A place I was acknowledged for gifts I barely had courage to admit were there. A room where friendships were forged and threads of creativity were woven together to make something awesome.
I will miss that space, not for it's physical qualities, but because there I was free. I was free to express a part of my soul that now lays dormant. The part of myself that longs to stand before an audience and draw them into a story that is bigger than all of us. The me that desires not just applause, but the excellence in performance that pulls people to their feet.
That is why I mourn the loss of PMT. It was more than an organization. In some ways it was more than a family. In coming together, we created moments of connection that are soul-deep. I will grieve not an organization, but an organism that in its finest moments lived and moved as one.
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