Performance pressure. My guess is that most people don't know about it. But I'll tell you . . . it looms. It's shadowy and grows in the night, surrounding you and blocking out everything else. All other details of life except for the performance become grating irritations, little stones in your shoe. Moments of preparation that are lost because of business details are alarming. Students don't feel the pressure much. If they did they'd be frantic, so I shield them from it with false non chalance. We have four National Convention performances in about 3 weeks. Our audience will have come from Boise and Bangor, Knoxville and Nottingham, Calgary and Charleston, Singapore, Seattle, Sioux City, San Francisco and San Antonio. They are looking for brilliant literature, ideas, and performances to inspire them and help them reinvent themselves. They have heard thousands of performances before. Some have moved them. They are hoping that your performance will move them again. They want to be reminded of forgotten passion. They are numb to good performances. Only impossible things interest them. When they hear you and have no idea what you have done to make that sound, they begin to get interested.

People ask to help you with details, but there seems to be no relief at this point. The weight grows in the darkness. You haven't done this. You should have done that sooner. You better not forget this.

I just keep ticking off the details, one by one, hoping against hope that my efforts will be good enough that I won't fail. Strangely, it's no consolation that I've done it before and come through it just fine.