I sat on the stage in a puddle of tears. My life was over, or at least the part of it that meant the most. I'd poured my life and soul into my theater studio, built it up the hard way, going door to door to find new students, doing almost all of the work myself, and now this.
If you have no idea what I'm talking about, [you'd better read part one](https://steemit.com/life/@markrmorrisjr/just-because-it-looks-impossible-doesn-t-mean-it-is-go-after-your-dreams) before you continue or very little of this is going to make sense.
I'd brought it on myself by assuming that everyone in my business had the same motives as me, to make the world a better place through arts and help others that were doing the same to succeed.
I'd "assumed" and it had certainly made an ass out of me.
I'd invited a fox into my hen house and he'd gotten almost all of them, including encouraging a kid that worked for me, to recruit others to go with him to the new studio in town, with promises of prestige and better connections. It was a nightmare.
So, as I tore the set for The Music Man down, I tore myself down as well. Who was I to think I could do this? I had no formal education in it. Of course I'd failed. I hadn't had proper funding, of course I'd failed. Who did I think I was?
And now, the prospect of going back to work for someone else was looming close on my horizon, and I didn't want to do it. Since I'd walked away from the last cabinet shop I worked in, I'd been self-employed, and I loved it. I had no desire to punch a clock, be griped at for taking five extra minutes at work, or spend my time earning more for someone else, than I earned for myself. I hated everything.
Bu, while I was busy hating myself for being such an abject failure, in the desk drawer of the office where I'd spent the last few years happily dreaming of a bright future, was a document that was about to explode into reality before my very eyes.
Remember, I'd borrowed the money to get into this business three years before. I'd built it up, and let it crash. Now, I had no hope of a future in arts education. My only option might be scraping together enough money to go to school and become a high school drama teacher. And no offense, that was not on my agenda.
I'd worked inside schools by this point, just enough to know that the politics were not for me. I loved running my own show. Loved every part of it. But, it was over now, I had three kids and a wife to provide for, and reality was going to bite.
That was in May. That summer was one of the hardest of my life. I's spent pretty much every waking hour since I was fourteen years old, dreaming of being an actor and director, and here I was at 28, having failed miserably already.
So, what was this document, hidden away, working behind the scenes?
Well, about two years before, I'd been excited and motivated. I'd been able to quit working for someone else and was running my own business. It was exciting, and hard work, and very rewarding. But, I wanted more.
As I looked at my current situation, I saw that one big expense, and a lot of the hardest work, had to do with the fact that we had to move into another facility to do our larger productions. This would eat up a month out of every semester, preparing for the move in, doing the show, and moving back to the studio. It was fun, but the cost was too high, both in cash and time.
So, I came up with a plan. I needed a bigger studio, where I could have a costume shop, and a scene shop and two studio rooms, (Which I badly needed) and drumroll please, my own performance space.
I started reading books about how theaters got started. I read about Steppenwolf, and Lamb's Players. They started in horrid spaces. There were nationally known companies that had started in basements and garages.
A friend told me about a company in California that made huge bank every year, presenting in a 75 seat theater! (What he didn't tell me was that guys like Johnny Depp and Nicholas Cage would occasionally show up to guest star in their performances) but, if they could do it, so could I!
So,I wrote it all down, how I would make more money, what the streams of revenue would be, I researched my competition, found out about the market and what it would support, I did everything. It was perfect. I took it to an attorney friend who specialized in business planning, "You want a job? This is beautiful. If this doesn't work, nothing will."
I got a business man, the one who was a big fan and had told me about the 75 seat house in California to advise me. He'd brought me some books, then promised to help, but he never did. But, his books did. I revamped the plan, made it better, until I could almost see it in my head.
Problem was, here I was, crying on the stage of an empty theater, at the scene of the crash of the Hindenburg, basically, dreaming of building the Empire State Building, metaphorically speaking. Even if I was up to it, I had $0, owed everyone money, and no one would trust me with investment capital after this.
But, again, never assume. Never, ever assume. While I was throwing a "Pity, party of one" the universe was sneaking around behind my back to prepare something even better.
June was hot that year. I know, because I spent it building fences and decks, instead of tucked inside my air conditioned studio, holding tryouts for Summer workshops. It sucked, but the money was good, and truth be told, I dont' mind carpentry work once I get started.
July was more of the same and my birthday was coming up when it happened.
We were out to lunch with the same family members who'd loaned us the money to buy the company, the loan we hadn't entirely paid off yet, and they started talking about the theater. Wow, as if life didn't suck bad enough, here they were reminding me of how much I loved and missed it.
"We think it's time you started looking for a building to have your own theater," they said. I nearly choked on my egg drop soup.
I looked up, a shocked expression, I'm sure, coming over my face. But they were serious. My heart leaped, I knocked it back down, I'd been here before and this time, there would be no assumptions until something happened.
So, I started thinking, praying and dreaming again, and somewhere in me a single fact kept coming up. It would sure be nice to have the studio close to home. We'd been about fifteen minutes away at the old studio, which meant a half hour out of any day that I went there once, and often I'd end up back and forth two or three times.
We looked at every property they told us was in the price range they could afford to help with. It seemed like months of searching, because it consumed me. Every minute I wasn't swinging a hammer, I was reading Craigslist ads, perusing real estate websites, or cruising the street looking for property for sale.
The more I looked, the more I was drawn to my home zipcode, and finally, on the way home from the grocery store, it appeared! Two blocks from our home, a store front was going up for auction! I slammed on the brakes and pulled in. The doors were open and people were milling around. I jumped out and had to keep myself from running in and telling them all to go home.
My heart pounded. This was it! I just knew this was it! I walked in and got the spec sheet. It was the right square footage, it had open enough architecture that once some walls were down it could work. I started drawing up the plans in my head right then and there!
The auction was scheduled for just a few weeks before school would start. If we were going to make it, we'd have six weeks to make everything happen in time to get started up again, without even missing a single semester.
I drove home, snatched my wife from the kitchen and took her back up to see it. She wasn't as excited as I was, but my enthusiasm was contagious. We brought our investors over and showed it to them. They agreed, it could work, but was I up to the work it would take. I was.
The only remaining hurdle was the auction. We'd set a hard limit on what we could spend and surely, this would go for more than that.
> Find out how it turns out, in the thrilling conclusion of the story! When the universe is on your side, nothing is impossible or even all that difficult, people. Believe me, I've been there, and sharing these stories gets me excited again for my own future.
>If you enjoyed this post, please upvote and resteem! Leave me a comment, I love interacting with readers on Steemit, but most importantly, never give up, just because it seems impossible, doesn't mean it is!
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