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When An Artist Finds An Artist


We have taken our first foray into the world of musical theatre.

(Confession. Every single blasted time I write the word theatre, I’m torn between the order of the e and the r. Theater or theatre? I know it’s a free country with freedom of speech and ultimately it’s my decision, since it’s one of those words, like gray-grey or judgement-judgment, that can go either way. Still, it seems like some things in life should be for sure. This one gets me every time.)

We went to see Peter Pan a couple of weeks ago, and my boys caught the Theatre Bug. They watched with wide eyes since we were seated close enough to see the child actors’ eyelashes. They studied everything. As I tucked them into bed that night, they had done the math to know how many years of childhood remained for them to be involved in community theatre before they leave for college.

I have to say, I couldn’t be happier. Soccer, football, Tae Kwon Do, all of these are things I can learn with them. But musical theatre? People. This is my language. Yes upon yes. Oh, I can be a stage mom.

And so last night, they each took their first class. Tyler’s class is studying the framework of musicals by learning the roles of Elsa and Olaf, and Tucker’s class is looking to the stage and discussing the merits of Broadway.

We ate pizza last night and discussed what they had learned and loved during their first night. In one evening, Tyler has become quite the expert on how to care for his vocal chords; he intends to ask the pediatrician to check them every month or so, and he promises he shall never scream again and thereby damage the instrument God has given him. (Thanks be to God and Tyler’s voice teacher.)

Tucker has begun research into scores and sound tracks, as his first homework assignment is to choose his favorite showstopping number from Broadway. He must report his findings and decision next week.

And thus, my friends, the Williford family takes the stage.

But this was my very favorite, favorite part. When I picked Tyler up from his class, he took my hand as we walked down the hall, and his eyes sparkled when he said, “Mommy, I met someone who is just like me.”

This is what happens when an artist finds an artist. Your eyes meet, your souls connect, and you realize you don’t have to chase a ball to be on a team, because you’ve found someone who chases ideas instead, just like you.IMG_5660

Tricia Lott Williford

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  1. Tricia, your words to us this evening at Creekside Bible Church were both captivating and pithy — I have children your age, and yet you shared insights I needed to hear. What I liked best was the part about “just do the next thing” when we are hit with circumstances beyond our ability to handle. All of us get blindsided with life from time to time. It’s good to hear the stories about how others have survived, and most especially when they went through the experience with the Lord.

  2. Thank you for that this morning….it gave me chills. It can be so hard to find your place in this world when you aren’t exactly like everyone else.

  3. How to decide between er and re: a “theater” is the place (building, auditorium, cafenasium, etc…) where “theatre” is performed.

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