Some memories. When I was fourteen, I auditioned for the Minneapolis Children’s Theater Summer Intensive show. I was terrified. So nervous. Michael Matthew Ferrell ran the dance call. Fierce, inspired, with the energy of a triple espresso. I fumbled my way through the dance combination somehow and got a callback. I practiced that dance combo to death and back. In my parent’s garage. At all hours of the night. After the dance call at the callback, Michael looked my direction and pointed at me. “Dan,” he said. “You practiced. I noticed.” It blew me away. I couldn’t believe he noticed. That anyone could. A year later, at another summer’s CTC Intensive, the cast was utterly exhausted one morning during warmups. Michael could tell, and completely flipped our warm up routine to a full-on obstacle course using exercise mats, filing cabinets and rolling chairs. It made everyone’s day. He noticed. Fast forward seven years. I’m doing “Joseph” at Artistry Minneapolis. This show came at the right time for me. Acting was barely supporting me, even with a second job, and I longed for a show that would make me feel creative, collaborative. The entire show, Michael would say to me “I see an incredible future for you. You’re gonna make it.” I’d brush it off. I’m not great with compliments. But I wonder if he knew how much I really needed that. To feel noticed. But that’s just it. Michael would notice and he would nurture. He could talk to you for a minute and immediately see the artist in you. And he’d give it permission to come forth singing and laughing and kicking and dancing. “Drive fast!” he’d shout at us during rehearsals. “Take chances! Donuts for dinner!” Donuts for dinner indeed, Michael. Thank you for noticing.