Cannabis & Shrooms: Performance, Connection, and Self-Dis...

Opening night, my parents and friends and teachers and strangers are in the audience. My Co-stars, my family, my people beside me on stage. My voice, rocking the dust that’s shining in the spotlight, supporting and sometimes leading voices out into space. He sits beneath the stage on the staircase to Hadestown looking through the pit to the sky of the underground In the sky are House lights shining down on the people Reaching through that black canvas And pulling him into the light, into the eyes of those people Between that threshold Between dark and light In between him and his people Is a wall of insight And in crossing through that portal He finds a love One of a mortal And like a glove He slips into its protective skin Feeling feminine with adrenaline And naked in the spotlight Indicted with passion and purity I’m greeted by my family, with flowers, hugs and “great jobs.” The rush I expected, with the release of a finished show, did not come. The praise, eyes and nods all came. But the high was left on stage. That night I went on a drive with marek, Felix, and maverick. I smoked, had a square of mushroom chocolate. I laughed, slept next to Felix. Marek took me back to the school that morning. Call time was 11:30 for a 1 o’clock show. With the second show, my acting was more intentional, my voice more characterized yet tired. Oh! And Bryson caught the apple I tossed during wedding song lol. Beneath the stage again Am I really about to climb into the light again? Yes There is no doubt The stage needs me the story is not over My mates are counting on me The audience, awaiting a greek, silly lover The tune is winding down My cue is played The ego-confused thoughts not so loud It’s the stage my brain craves But then I’m tossed off Here! Take some fake blood Are you ready? Have you had enough? Why the struggle? Why the strain? Why make trouble? Why makes scenes? Why go against the grain? Why swim upstream? How you feeling Daniel? You ready? I ask my understudy. Nervous but yes, he says. Well I’ll be here, I provide as the pack animals leave for leisurely lunch. Getting attention is funny. Once you’re used to it, and it suddenly disappears for a moment, it’s like being without air to breathe. But I realize, it’s not a gas I need constantly to live, unlike oxygen. In fact, I more often feel I need a breath of fresh air out of the atmosphere of eyes and ears, of luring and deterring. It was during one of these moments before the understudy show that night that a girl came to hang with me in the house. Her name is Sadrie. Someone else was there. They were talking to me. But Sadrie was singing and I wanted to listen. So I ended up resigning that I could only focus on one voice at a time, and asked the person to repeat what they had said. Sadrie was singing “road to hell reprise” I believe, one of the last numbers of the show. I specifically remember her singing “to Orpheus” ironically my character. I forget the moment exactly, but there was one where I got to hold Sadries eyes. They were unwavering. She looked at me with a gentle ferocity, of brisk fire. It’s been almost a week and I’m still thinking about it. For mic checks I sang Vienna by Billy Joel. Before the show, more specifically before green room, I ate 2 squares of mushroom chocolate, a mushroom gummie stick, and took a hit off a thc pen. Pre show rituals were hype. we stood in a circle, holding hands, passing the loving squeeze around, when people began swinging their arms and singing chant. All 40ish of us hollered the entire six and a half minute song. Go bananas B-A-N-A-N-A-S (Repeat like 7 times, then hoot n holler) I sat in the left wing, next to Russel, falling into meditation and anticipation of a trip. I breathed, felt energized and immune, slipped into the sleek armor of shrooms and resigned my attempt to deeply meditate. I was too allured by the music and the story my friends were telling on stage to be still and quiet. I was mic’d up after all, I had to sing! I noticed Daniel breathing and mentally preparing to be on stage. I stood to support him. His Rythm and rhyme were different. Not wrong, but not what we were taught to sing, not quite what even he intended but the words and the notes he uttered were true. I bounded with excitement and giddiness at his dance with “correctness.” From time to time, his words would trail into abyss, but then arise out of nowhere with wings from fiery hell! His tone was rusty, yet still resembled a blade cutting love and honest through the air. At the very back of the stage is hung a white drape. A “scrim” perhaps. It allows actors to cross stage without being scene. With every song, brilliant colors adapted to the sky in the theatre. And through this corridor I flew and danced, lived and died, laughed, and cried. The Silhouettes of my dear counterparts painted on the 2D world of white light of which I tore past with existential purpose. I danced. and I got others to dance with me. I grooved to the muse, pranced to the chant, expressed to the undressed. The story, song, the voice reverberating through that auditorium air, compounding in my mind, and translating through my eyes some kind of resemblance. I found myself, time and time again, exactly where I needed to be. All over the place I was, flowing with the current of sound and sight. Daniel thanked me and I embraced him. He got a taste that night for one of the many drugs I love. How funny it was, he was more prepared on the guitar, and yet it was he who found himself on stage without his soul prop. I got it to him once, with the help of a kind fate, but the other time I resigned, leaving him ever more naked on that stage, and leaving it up to fate. Kai found me afterwards, told me we needed to catch up, and that she would back next weekend to see me preform. She told me to write Zach a card. I told her how pumped to be alive I was. Marek and I went to Madelyn’s house to eat and watch “fall” - dumb movie. I napped, then accompanied marek back to his place, where we smoked, tubbed, and talked until damn near 4 am. On the drive home the next morning, I contemplated to Mareks ears the high I just had. I thanked him for being apart of such a couple of days. I shook his hand, told him I loved him with my eyes, and returned to the silly world of family and homework. And here I am, a couple of nights later, in between school and buying my first car and sleep and Ap tests and a million other things, trying to capture beautiful life on a screen. Goodnight, sweet dreams

This piece is a vivid account of performance weekend, detailing experiences on stage during 'Hadestown' and subsequent altered states fueled by cannabis and psilocybin. It explores the actor's journey from performance highs and audience connection to personal introspection, relationships with friends and co-stars, and the eventual integration of these intense experiences into daily life, including homework and future plans.