A few weeks ago, I was in Las Vegas and I saw a show I'd been wanting to see for a very long time: Ka, from Cirque du Soleil.
From the moment I set foot in the theater, I felt a sense of wonder. Just the ambiance from the set and those hanging lights was enough, and when the show started and that giant platform rose into the air, I was in another universe. It was an amazing show, well-paced, well put together, impressive in every way. One of the best Cirque shows I've seen (of eight, I believe - Saltimbanco is still my favorite).
After much emotion, jumping, falling, twirling, and love and fights and everything, the story ended, and we were on our feet clapping, and the artists were bowing and waving at us... all except one. There was one who was taking off her wig and earpiece, oblivious to the crowd.
In that instant, the dream was broken. It was just work. Just another gig. Just another night among many, many nights. And while I understand how it's easy to get blasé when you've done about 600 performances, twice a night, for weeks on end, I'm disapointed that she couldn't wait another 30 seconds until the lights went off before declaring the performance over.
It would have made a world of difference for me.
There is a very important lesson here for anyone who does performance arts...