Sometimes There Is No Other Shoe

So you want to start a theatre company?

I've been wondering for a while how I was going to approach this topic.

At first, I wanted to say it's actually quite easy, and technically it is. Just grab some friends, a show, a venue and name your group something. BLAMMO! Insta-theatre company. And if that's all you really want to do, that's all you need.

But once you start realizing that you want to make something out of this company, that you not only want it to stay afloat, when so many of its predecessors have disappeared from the limelight, you actually want it to succeed, well that's when you have to start treating it like a business. And that's when things should start getting hard.

At least, that's what I thought. But the truth of the matter is, I've never taken on a project that has been this easy in my entire life.

For those of you who may not know, along with two other friends, I've started a theatre company called Evolution Theatre. (Feel free to look up our origins there since I won't go into it here.)

Now to be fair, starting and running a theatre company takes a lot of work. I just don't happen to think it's very difficult work (or maybe I actually like the work so much that I don't consider it difficult?). However, I have never been a part of something that has run so smoothly before.

We want sponsors? We got 'em! We want a logo and show posters? Here comes an amazing graphic designer! We want to organize a successful season launch with members of the media and theatre VIPs? Done!
(I've got Roy Orbison's Anything You Want running through my head right now.)

It's funny, I have this feeling inside me that what we are doing is just meant to be and that's why it has been so simple. Sure there's been a few hicups here and there, but nothing we couldn't manage.

What's even funnier is that my usual instinct in these types of situations when things are going right would be to expect something to go wrong, to expect for that proverbial "other shoe" to drop. And you know what happens when you wait for that other shoe? It usually does - not to mention you also let all the really great stuff in your life pass you by as you waited for it to do so.

So, as of this moment (or maybe as of a few weeks ago when I thought about this), there is no other shoe. From now on, I walk around on one foot.

...

Metaphorically speaking, of course.

...

Am I even making any sense?