Norwegian Water.

Spring hasn't exactly sprung in the Northerly part of Norway, but it has lightly hopped in on a beam of sunshine and under a blanket of warming clouds. Unfortunately (although even the unfortunate right now is a grand sort of good fortune), while the theatre work doesn't require our energy, exactly, it requires our time and our being at the theatre for between 6 and 10 hours a day (give or take a couple depending on the day). So, naturally, outdoor exploration has been kept rather at a minimum. This is alright, but it does seem to be a waste to be indoors when the weather is so fine. But, I digress...
Every Norwegian is different, like all people. They share common characteristics with other humans, but everyone has their own unique combinations of experiences and life events that create them into who they are. But, there is one unifying characteristic of Norwegians, which made a strong impression on me. Every single Norwegian we talked to, when they were explaining to us the best thing about Norway, praised the water. "The water is the best thing about Norway," I have heard multiple times since arriving. It's not the fjords, or the landscapes, although those are good as well. It's the water. That is the self-proclaimed best thing about Norway for the Norwegians.
They don't complain about the taxes. They don't really like them, but they have free health care, and they make decent wages, so they're pretty happy.
It's the water.
I keep thinking about it. And the more I get to know them, the better I like them as a people. Even the ones I don't really like that much, the ones that point the blame at other people, and lack discipline, or basic bodily hygiene, still help me reflect on the absolute simplicity of what life is. It's breathing, it's drinking water, and if it's clean that makes it even better.
Everyday I spend here, I realize again and again how fortunate I really am. The petty annoyances of the day, the kids running around, is nothing. And all the pain in life, in the past, it's gone. I mean, there's only now. And now, things are great.
One thing I've learned, professionally speaking, is that it's best to over-prepare initially. Being perfectionist constantly is crippling. Sometimes it's best to paint with a large brush, just to get it out, and breathe some life into the work.
I guess it's this person I work with. He's a perfectionist. He likes things perfect. He wants them PERFECTLY square, perfectly round, perfectly smooth, etc. And he's always saying, "Well, it's not perfect." That isn't to say he doesn't rejoice in our technical acheivement triumphs (like lighting the wagon with Christmas tree lights), but something is always waiting to be perfected. Which is just totally a gratification on his part. because, really, the audience doesn't see any of the perfect things we've done. It's just a way to deal with the boredom of not having much to do. Which is what we do a lot of: nothin'.
Still, especially when things get out of control, perfectionism is often more of a hinderance than a help. Especially when time gets close, and things get tight.
I am a perfectionist too, sometimes. But I must learn when to perfect, and when to accept.
I think I can accept that this production hasn't hurt anyone, and Seth and I are happy cutting, sewing, glueing, rehearsing, performing, organizing, painting, and everything else they ask us to do.
So, it's all good.
The water is good, so therefore, is life.