I am not a country girl. I have spent my entire life living in cities and suburbs. But to wake up every morning and see this, to be graced by the lochs and mountains of the Scottish highlands, I would forsake it all in an instant to have this on my doorstep.
It’s difficult for me to put into words my experience touring through the highlands. For so many years I have romanticized it and fantasied about it and, suddenly, I’ve seen it, it’s become real. Well, perhaps real is the wrong word. It is a place so bursting with pride and magnificence that it defies the constraints of any norm I know. It’s magic in it’s purest and most natural form. My heart swells as I sit here typing, lingering on the memory of what I’ve been privileged enough to witness. These highlands are the life force of Scotland. How could they not be?
This, this is what makes waking up in the morning worth it, this is why we struggle in the face of such immense odds, this is why we fight the good fight. We do all that because we can be secure in the knowledge that no matter how bad the worlds seems, it is still a place full of beauty and wonder, where the landscapes of fables and fairy tales still thrive, and people are kind and smart and good. In my short time here, as a land and as a people, the Scots have continued to remind me why I believe in the things I believe. I believe in the power of the global community and in the necessity of theater as a device for communicating our shared experiences across that community. The highlands embody this. They don’t just belong to the Scots, they belong to anyone who has ever been moved by them, they belong to anyone who has ever partaken in their stories. Perhaps what strikes me so much about this place is the way it’s legends seem to rise out of the Earth and into the hearts of anyone who comes here. The highlands have no prejudice, no hidden agenda, just a desire to share their stories with you. As an actor, as a human being, is there anything more natural or magical than that?