I have a tattoo on my left arm of a poppy and the word, ultreïa. This word was first seen in a 12th-century guide about how to walk the Camino, and it is believed to mean, “Go further!”
The poppy, however, has a double meaning. To start, there are poppies all over the Camino Frances in the spring, fields and fields of them. But the flower itself also holds the meaning of death, rebirth, and recovery through tragedy. I’ve walked each of my Camino’s in memory of someone dear to me–the first for my theatre professor and the second for my grandmother.
This Camino was for Michael. Michael was the musical director of my summer camp growing up. I was not a very skilled musical theatre kid–though heaven knows I tried–so Michael and I didn’t even work together back then. He was for the super-Broadwyy-bound kids, but we all looked up to him from afar.
When I was in my late 20s, I spotted a familiar face playing the piano at a reading of a new musical in NYC. He was introduced as Michael Larsen. Very long story short, I timidly walked up to him to say hello and to explain that I was one of his campers many years ago. “Be my student!” he said immediately. We became great friends.