blog, prose, writingHeather Holloway McCashAugust 19, 2016prose, life, plan b, plans, dreams, changeComment

Fallback Plan

blog, prose, writingHeather Holloway McCashAugust 19, 2016prose, life, plan b, plans, dreams, changeComment

I had plans for my life. I always do. In college I majored in my fallback plan. Then after college my life was my fallback plan for my initial fallback plan. But I never planned for this. I never planned for what my life is now. It is thousands of miles from what I thought my life would be.

In high school my plan was to be a professional ballerina for a few years and then move on to triple threat status on Broadway. As I grew or didn’t really, I realized my lack of height and curvy body would not be welcome at American Ballet Theater. I scrapped that and decided Broadway was it and I’d have a newspaper column on the side. Cue college where I majored in journalism and communications. While in college the internet and blogs started to take over and print journalism slowly started its descent. Finding a job that would keep a roof over my New York head as a journalist didn’t happen. Instead I fell into a job in the one communications area I did not take classes in. Public relations. I tried to make it happen. I did make some good journalist contacts. I did try to turn some of those connections into jobs but it didn’t work.

I finally decided that my initial plan of living in New York was no longer working after over a decade. After a failed attempt at a job in Los Angeles I moved back to Nashville with no plans and not much interest in staying for long. I thought it could be my incubation period. Where I worked on building a new life and then went off elsewhere to live it. Because there was no way in hell I was going to stay. I used to tell my friends that if I ever said I wanted to move back to Nashville they should shoot me.

But what do you know, I really love it. My life is so much better than it was. I am not living out what I thought my dream was but dreams aren’t always what they seem to be when your eyes are closed. Once my eyes were finally opened I could clearly see a new path in front of me. I didn’t plan it but it’s lovely.

Frozen Exposure Photography http://www.frozenexposure.com

The first book I wrote at age 8. This was my plan for my adult life.

Heather Holloway McCash

proseHeather Holloway McCashAugust 09, 2016writing, prose, time, vintageComment

Vintage Sound

My parents have an antique, granddaughter clock that has always hung in the stairwell, between the first and second story of my childhood home. I love the sound it makes when it tick-tocks. The pendulum swings back and forth, sometimes sounding achy and arthritic. I love the reverberation in the stairwell, when the clock chimes and strikes the hour. Every now and then it will wind down, the ticking, and celebration of time passing, ceasing to exist. Sometimes it takes a while to notice the absence of the tick. An hour, maybe two, comes and goes without notice. That is when the winding happens. Whoever realizes that the clock has stopped, usually my father, turns the little knob on the face and you can hear the gears, loudly grinding backwards in protest, to start work once again.

proseHeather Holloway McCashAugust 09, 2016writing, prose, time, vintageComment

prose, writingHeather Holloway McCashAugust 09, 2016prose, Broadway Theater Project, Ann ReinkingComment

Transitions

The transition from idea to execution is the process of creation. The creation often needs a transition to tie it all together. Sometimes the hardest part of creating is the transition. But when you get it right, the transition can be magical.

prose, writingHeather Holloway McCashAugust 09, 2016prose, Broadway Theater Project, Ann ReinkingComment

blog, writing, proseHeather Holloway McCashAugust 10, 2016costume, masks, growth, Halloween, Nashville, theater, trick-or-treatComment

Masks

When I was three I had my first halloween costume. It was a plastic Cookie Monster costume with a plastic mask. I was very excited about trick or treating. I put the costume on over my clothes and then the mask on my face. When I looked in the mirror it was a different story. I was terrified and wouldn’t wear the mask longer than it took for my mom to take a picture. I don’t know if I was afraid because I didn’t understand that it was me behind the mask, or I couldn’t breathe. I was a tiny child and the mask was huge. Whatever it was I refused to have the mask on my face. When I got a little older my feelings changed. I loved wearing the Cookie Monster mask. I loved being someone else.