Yellow

Ro O'Donnell often talks about her "yellow." Yellow is everything pure; it is God; it is happiness; it is her wife; it is her children. Ro says she lost her yellow for a time; two years after she began her show. It was not pure anymore. Then she went back on Broadway. She says when she steps out onto that stage, she remembers why she got into show business. It is everything she dreamed it would be when she was a child.

I know yellow. It is when I first realized I was alive. I was twelve years old. I had an immense fear of the stage. In elementary school, I couldn't even deal with a concert. I once passed out when I was onstage. Being in front of people made me too nervous. I decided that type of life was not for me.

When I was in 6th grade, I was encouraged to audition for the spring musical production at my school by it's director. I politely said, "No thank you," instantly remembering the last time I was on stage. But she insisted and wouldn't stop, so reluctantly, I auditioned. I got a great part and then the panic really set in. I was nervous about the show, but I was even more nervous about being nervous. It was a sick cycle of anxiety.

So it's opening night. I thought I was going to die. I couldn't wait for it to be over. And I remember thinking to myself before we went on, "What am I nervous about? I know my lines and the audience is just a bunch of people. What am I nervous about?" Before I knew it I was onstage and looked out into the audience; I couldn't see anything. The lights were blinding me and it felt just like a rehearsal. Quickly, all of the nerves drained out of me, and I was in character. Nothing mattered except the person I was talking to and the relationship our characters were building right there on the stage. The minute my scene was over, I stood in the wings and stared at the stage. I wanted to rush right back on.

Then it was the final night of the show. I didn't realize it but it was the true test of my abilities and my nerves. It was one of the last scenes and someone forgot to put my prop in the bag I was to retrieve it from. I cannot for the life of me, remember exactly how I played off of it. But I'll never forget the roar of laughter from the audience. People went crazy. That laughter came into my body and I was alive. I was not playing a character, I was the person.

It was yellow.

I remember that feeling every time I am on stage now, but the feeling is different. It's not about me anymore. It's about the love I create with the people I create it with. We are all alive. If I had a choice, I'd never leave. I am no other color than yellow.

I've tried to find that yellow- that life- everyday. Sometimes I feel it when the sun shines on me the right way, or when the bay breeze blows on my face on a summer's night, or when I see a child smile, or when I am in Disney World (a place that can only promise that happiness)- but it's not a vivid as when I am on stage.
Happy colors are there, but they are not yellow.