The Miserable ... and The Shining Stars.

That. Was. Magnificent.
There is no other word for it. There is no possible way I can say enough praise for the show I just witnessed.
To those of you who read this, look for the names Andre Landry and Devon Turner in five years, maybe even less. I know that thosse guys are going to be going places. I've got a hunch, a knowing. There's an air about certain people, the way they move on a stage; somtimes, you just know.
I have never read Les Miserables before tonight, I have never seen it performed. When my high school band went to New York two Spring Breaks ago, I went to Europe with the Art Club. Unfortunately for me, I missed the chance to see Les Miz on Broadway. I never heard the songs sung, never knew the story, wouldn't recognize the character names if they were spoken.
I never knew.
This afternoon, I was nearly in tears with the rest of the audience as Andre sang Valjean's last words. I felt like getting up and singing along with the chorus as they rallied for the Revolution. I could see Cossette's castle in the clouds. I felt the weight on my shoulders along with the rest of the convicts as they worked their sentences away, looking down into the dust. I could not look away as Devon limped as Marius amidst the empty chairs at empty tables.
I was there. They made me live it.
Andre was outstanding. There's no other word for it. There are talent scouts that come to these shows, and I do belive that they will not leave disappointed. There are actors who can make every stage Broadway, who were born for the lights. We'll be seing him, I know that much.
I wish I could name every member of the cast, list off every star that walked the stage this afternoon. I would, but I do not know their names. I wish I did. I wish I had been on that journey with them.
Do you have any idea how much a performance like that inspires me? How strongly it will stay chained to my brain? How I will forever shower that cast and crew with praise that with never be worthy enough?
I wish I had been there more. I wish I had been with them as I had for two years earlier, covered in paint and sawdust and slivers, hands stained with make-up. I miss the backstage chaos, the in-jokes and teamwork and ... all of it. I couldn't be there. I worked my ass off at Keyano, trying to spare time to get to the Tech meetings, and I couldn't. I spared three hours, three pathetic hours of my time on Tech from Hell night. I let them down. I said I'd try to be there, and I couldn't do it. I feel like I've cast myself out.
It's not my world anymore. I'll never be able to go back. Even some of those who were there, who were with me, they didn't know me anymore. I painted Andre's face solid yellow for The Wiz. I remember trying not to get green eyeliner in his eyes and touching up the patch on his forehead between scenes, back when he was the Scarecrow. I want to go to the shoebox I have in my room of the rolls of photos from those two years ... see all those who were there and who've moved on.
But I can't. ... I just can't.
I don't think I could take that right now.
I can see them clearly enough in my head, anyways. I can see Chris and Michelle as Oberon and Titania, and Brendan as Moonshine and Mo as Quince. I can see Bonnie and Darrell and Adam and Kyle and Blaine posing as the Ninja Butterflies ... the Flying Monkeys. I remember the one shot of Mike when he fell asleep on the burlap sacks under the table, I can see Lucas glaring at me with pink fuzzy slippers, a green bathrobe, and curlers in his hair.
And now I'm crying and I can't see anything anymore.
I miss it. I miss them. It's something I don't want to leave behind. I don't want to leave it because I know I'll never be able to find it again.