The world is round is round is round is round…. progress report…
One week in, one week to go… as always, I am wondering why the hell (theater hell) I agreed to do this … but I know, really I do… trying to make something out of nothing but potential… there are many down sides, as always, but plenty of ups… and if not this, then what? navel gazing? existential angst? mourning? there’s enough of that even when busy, so shut the f**k up and get on with it… enjoy your good fortune… and the company – what a lovely bunch…
the mill is a construction site, not yet fit for audience – the only entrance to the upstairs, which is the most beautiful big open performance space, is a very rickety fire escape – so we rehearse and eat upstairs, but will perform outside in front – in the thick of the construction. John Conklin is slowly turning it blue, with the aid of garbage bags, tarps, tape and paint (shoestring budget); Oana’s costumes for the girls and I are wild, and a symphony of blues; Brian is working with floodlights, flashlights, strip lights, all things portable and weatherproof (the rain and storms are starting – oh my…). I am upstairs in the windows with all the instruments (most of them toy size) plus looping pedal, school bell, a bucket of water, an old beaten-up piano in the far corner, and “The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas” – the inside of Gertrude’s head…
there is a lake nearby for swimming, and every day we gather for a wonderful communal meal in the middle of the work day – we have feasted wonderously well… we even had a fire pit at the end of the first day of tech, before our day off, at which I consumed large quantities of bourbon and eventually broke out the bari uke, only for rain to stop play…
meanwhile, I’ve gone ahead and let go of my home of the past 18 years, and taken the studio in westbeth…at least I agreed to it, on the last day before leaving for upstate – too late to do any of the paperwork, that will have to wait until I get back… I may live to regret it, but I feel it’s important to make the changes count… trust your instincts, girl… there’s a dance in the old dame yet – toujours gai, kid…
pesha is out of cairo and back in the UK – sighs of relief all ’round…