I have loved theatre my whole life, it seems. When I was in second grade, I had the majority of a three witches scene from "Macbeth" memorized. I would run around the yard and chant it while throwing ingredients into my cauldron (a mud-filled flowerpot). As I grew older, I took every opportunity to perform what I could and read plays like children eat candy—by the handful.

This passion continued into my undergraduate career, but it was not until my sophomore year that I fully immersed myself in Elmira College’s theatre department. Although the road thus far has often been difficult, I fall more in love with theatre every day. For example, I am currently directing “Smitten,” a one-act written by Anna Stillaman and Mark Matthews. It is for a class, so I am expected to do everything—save actually act in the play, run cues during the play, and construct the set—on my own. To make matters worse, this is the weekend before show, so I have to somehow scrape everything together by tech…which is in two days. I have not slept more than five hours a night all week, I spend every moment of my day working (I do have other classes), and I spend hours outside of my regular rehearsal working on my play. I am running on fumes and loving every second of it. I have been bitten by the theatre bug and am content to let it bleed.

There are many reasons why I love theatre the way I do. Here are a few.

First, the people are vibrant, interesting, and kind. Whenever I’m around my theatre friends, I know that I am in for a lively adventure. For instance, the cast and crew from the last show I was in developed a family bit. We are each a semi-stereotypical family member. For example, I play drunken Uncle Stan. I tell the same story over and over again, cry about my dead wife, and get progressively “drunker” as the bit continues. We have done this in front of unsuspecting people. They left. We didn’t care.

Second, there is much room for artistic expression. Theatre history is rife with playwrights, directors, actors and technicians who have built on what came before them or threw it out the window. For example, in pre-theatre ancient Greece, people used to stand around in fields post-harvests and chant dithyrambs to Dionysus. One day, Thespis stepped up onto a rock and pretended to be Dionysus, creating a dialogue with the harvesters and birthing theatre. New sections of theatre are born and built from that ancient shoot, and there is always room for something more.

Finally, it feels good. That may sound like a cop-out, but I rarely feel as satisfied as when I am working on a theatre project. It is like washing my soul after it has gone on a camping trip; I barely notice the dirt until it’s gone.

Ultimately, my love of theatre is inherent to my very composition. It is not for everyone, but I recommend that you give theatre a try. Let it in. Maybe you’ll find that piece of your puzzle you didn’t know was missing.