Dallas - photos

DALLAS provided me with a little less than an inspiring array of imagery. In fact, the closest thing I came to visiting a coffee shop less commercial than a Starbucks was when I stopped by the "Deep Fried Latte" stand at the Texas State Fair. And bookshops? Well, the only bookshop within biking distance was a Borders, and unless they're paying me to take a picture of their Uptown Dallas store, I'm not about to post one here. So instead of the trifecta this time around, I've included the standard shot of the theatre house from the stage, along with a few other goodies, just to spice things up a bit.

The Music Hall on the Dallas State Fairgrounds


The array of heart-stopping fried foods available for your cardiac delight at the Texas State Fair.


A "talking" (read: snorting, grunting, or burping) pig started off the pig races. These three people were....very special. Touched, one might say.


The races, themselves. There were a few spills, some hurt feelings, and I still hold to it that it was rigged so that the black pig came in last.

A few of my favorite things

Sometimes I feel nothing short of silly lugging a 300-pound trunk around the country. Truth be told, I am not the one lugging it around (Disney takes care of that for us), merely the one filling it up with debatably useless items, and then unpacking them and sprawling them around my apartment in every city.

Yet, for the weeks between the weeks between each city we are trunk-less, and we somehow, miraculously survive. I suppose a humidifier and a blow-up yoga ball are not “bare necessities” for survival on the road, nor are a tripod and a French press, but we all know that sometimes it’s nice to have the un-necessities to make us feel at home when we most certainly, time and time again, are not. A picture frame. A pair of cowboy boots. And so I allow myself a little extravagance in this matter, allowing my longing for familiarity to triumph over my slight shame in having so many “important material possessions” with me all the time.

Which brought me to think about what those important “possessions” are, and whether we can truly own them or simply pass through them.

Whenever I travel, with or without my 2.5 cases of DVDs and my humidifier, I find myself gravitating towards additional places and activities that make me feel “at home,” or, at the very least, make me feel a little more contented away from home. The first and most obviously foremost is the theatre. Each theatre we perform in has its own personality, its own history and story, and its own unique, welcoming familiarity.

And usually at some point before heading to the theatre, I find myself in a coffee shop to get my caffeine buzz. Coffee shops for some reason are so distinctive and welcoming…well…at least the distinctive and welcoming ones are. Starbucks will always be there, but I’m talking more about those tiny little holes in the wall, an oasis from the rain or heat or cell phone or annoying co-worker, a place to read a book or just stare at the foam on a latte or local artist’s work on the wall. How ironic that people go to coffee shops to pump caffeine into their system so they can sit and do nothing…just relax. I suppose it’s no different than speeding in your care ‘cause you’re late to yoga class.

And finally, at some point during my weeks in each city, usually on a lazy (or perhaps very productive and investigatory day) I find myself staring into a bookshop, thinking of how much room I have in my trunk and whether or not I can buy (and read) as many books as my eyes tell me I can. The smaller bookshops are best, where you can’t just look up and see a sign that says “sci-fi,” or know that the drama section is always tucked away on a single shelf in the “literature” section. I find it best to get lost, not know what I’ll stumble upon, and surprise myself with a book I never thought I’d want to read.

Now that I see the words in front of me, I suppose a store full of unread books, a shop full of caffeine, and an empty theatre all share a considerable camaraderie. The potential for anything to happen is palpable.

And so, in traveling around the country, one thing I plan to take with me is, at the very least, a picture of an empty theatre, a coffee shop, and a bookshop. This is the first installment…the Chicago triptych.