Another tide shifts, this wave breaks only to give way to the new one rolling in behind it, and just like that the liquid heap that has been carrying you disintegrates into a porous mass of sand beneath. Carmen absorbs her final pierce, Don José releases one last wail and Micaela, for the last time, lives on to tell the tale.

After two programs of tragedy, I think we’re all ready to bring some fairy tale magic to Providence. Leading things off, I’ve got one last performance of Boyko Dossev’s The Little Prince this afternoon, and I am very much looking forward to getting wild, silly, foxy, and wise. This intangible shift in work from somber to hopeful does not go unfelt, nor is it unexpressed, after all…

“It is only with the heart that one can see rightly, what is essential is invisible to the eye.”