Titanic

There are moments where the world makes sense. Brief, glorious moments. Precious seconds where I can feel beyond the limits of this mortal body and mortal perceptions; times of transcendence. Funny enough, many of these moments, for me, have happened in an auditorium. Something about performing arts, whether it's dance, theater, or music, makes my soul soar.

For example, last night my director led the cast in visualization exercises to warm us up before the show. She read some quotes to us, but the one that stuck in my head was "And the night was alive with a thousand voices, fighting to be heard / Like a thousand people joined with a single heartbeat." This line refused to leave me alone. I felt, in that darkened space, that all the souls who lived and died aboard the Titanic were with us somehow. Whether they were watching or not, I cannot say--but their presence was tangible. It struck me that each person wanted their story told, and they were all united in this desire.

Not only that, but we as a cast are a thousand people joined with a single heartbeat. We are united in such a unique way--a family not through blood, but through purpose. I honestly feel like the people I have the opportunity to perform with are like another family.

Musicals can be frivolous, romantic, comedic--but some of the greatest tragedies can also be expressed through song and dance. My director tells us that we sing when words aren't enough, and we dance when even song isn't enough. Titanic shows all the splendor of man's creations, the hope of a new life, the joy in new love, and then the unendurable agony of separation, the guilt of survival, and the peace and wisdom that can grow from trials. It is an emotional journey for every person participating--audience, cast, crew, and pit.

One of the songs, We'll Meet Tomorrow, talks about how though we separate now, we'll be together once again. Whether you believe in an afterlife or not, this is powerful. My director always tells us that the music never lies, and it strikes me especially in this song. Performing it with my sisters (who play my daughters) makes me sob, every night.

Knowing that we are playing real people makes every experience on the ship that much more heartrending. It's one thing to have a fictional tragedy, but the reality of it strikes a chord into the human psyche. When I fully realized the responsibility I have as an actor to do justice to a person as real as I and to tell their story, it was sobering. Not only do I tell my character's story, but I tell the holistic story.

I am. And we are.

Titanic is beautiful, and I am so grateful for the opportunity to participate in a program with people who can pull off such a wonderful show. To be able to share these real stories with so many other people is a joy. To know that it touches hearts and changes perceptions makes it worth all the blood, sweat, and tears I put in. I'm so thankful for everyone involved, especially the technical crew--it's not easy to sink a ship on stage, or to put mics on 47 people throughout the show.

It's an honor and a joy to be in show business. And although I'm leaving it all behind after Titanic, I have become a better person because of it.