Okay, I've done my stint on the boards. Perhaps there is more to come but thats for another day and another post. For now just let me say thank you to Steven McCasland, my director, my collaborator, my friend and to Teresa Carson for her help, and to Johanna for her patience. I had a chance to see how another world of art works. I'm not clear where I stand within that world but it might be we can expand on that. I think I should tell you that it was scary as shit to act. And scarier more to go back to the time when I was sick. I haven't been there in a long while and each time we rehearsed and each time I practiced and memorized I went back. Not good. Not good.
The night after our first performance I dreamed about illness. People filled with cancers and pus and their heads splitting open and then when I awoke I saw a little demon scurry off the bed.
Like they were waiting for me still. Like they wanted me still. No normal person wants them to come back and I'm not that abnormal. On the other hand the work seems to resonate in ways I hadn't expected and perhaps we can put it out into the world and make it a positive thing in ways poetry isn't. We shall see. We shall see.
Today I got to see a production of Steven's of Medea. It was rich and strong and clear. The man has a talent and a vision and he will be a great director and producer. His actors were powerful and passionate and you could hear their pain and anguish. Not too shabby.
So, for now my theatrical ambitions are tabled but they will rise again. Tomorrow we return to 1963, Sixth Grade, Dear Mrs Myers, Kathy Collinge, Sex, the Beatles, oh, the horror, oh, the horror. Ha ha. Back to Fun.
God bless Steven and his vision and God take pity on me.