The other side of Insecurity

I am in love with the poster for my play. I am in love with my play. There are moments in it that I will always remember -- Larry's monologues, his cries, his conversations. I say "Larry," but I mean Dan because Dan brought Larry to life. I was watching the conversations between Dan and Ellie last night and there's...I have to say it, corny as it sounds: there's magic there. I don't know what it is. Some crazy chemistry, some rhythm I hadn't even noticed until Dan and Ellie started having fun with their scenes. And then there's Conni dancing with Seth and the image of that...she -- tiny, frail, elegant and he -- massive (I mean that in the most complimentary way possible). Seth has presence on the stage and when he dances with Conni there's something incredibly affectionate going on...I love it. I love those scenes and I love Mikey's hysteria (his revolutionary actions demand it), and I love my giant Zeppelin and Susan's paintings and Susan's laughter...Susan was laughing so hard last night, I almost had trouble concentrating. It was a good thing. We need the laughter. The cast does.

Conni said yesterday, "This is a simpler play" in response to my question "How do you, guys, feel about it?" She thought I would mind, but I don't. True, I've struggled with realism and linearity in this production, but I wanted this simplicity, this (almost) love story -- a few people whose lives are entangled, a few relationships, an almost happy end...I asked myself before writing the play: what is it that I love to read? And the surprising answer was, "Romantic stories with happy endings or mysteries that end well..." Ok, so I couldn't pull off the happy ending (still working on it), but the rest, Gabe's need for romance, Chessman's affair with Dominique, Dominique's willingness  to fall in love with a man on death row...How human. How...wrong. How lovely. So, yes: after many doubts and a few sleepless nights, I'm in love with my own play. On the other side of insecurity there's a certain vanity triggered by things well done...We're not there yet: many small things still bother me -- the volume in the beginning (this play needs to start in the middle of things, loud, obnoxious, rhythmic), some of Chess' lines (Seth still sounds like he's reading), some transitions and, most of all, the sound equipment that brings me grief every day.

On a happier note, I talked to the theatre department and it seems we can borrow some lights from them. Yay! Banish the ugly!

Today at 1 I met with Seth, Conni and Mike and we went shopping for scrubs. It was awesome. The guys look great in their "asylum" uniform, Conni looks delicate as usual, and the owner gave me a discount and is coming to the play...There are days when I love Lafayette. Or the South. Only here are people this friendly.

I came home to discover the plumber (the cool one who liked my set pieces) working in the laundry room. He smiled big and waved. I think he's the one who makes Pakki nervous (Pakki wants to spend time in the bath tub again...)


This morning I managed to get through the defense and then I met with Dan and went to KRVS to record the opening sentence of the play. Dan's voice was so feeble even in the recording studio that Judith had to turn on the volume almost to the max. No wonder I can't hear that last monologue in the play, the one Dan says after tiring himself out...Afterwards, I told Dan a lot of things: how I think he is extraordinary (but has no stamina); how I believe that it's not physical feebleness but all that restraint he practices; how, if I had the means and the circumstances were different, I would do terrible things to him on the stage to get rid of his inhibitions, to make him come out of his shell. "Terrible things like what?" He asked concerned. I told him about the great theatre experiments, about theatre companies like WOW who stripped the actors naked in front of the audience and left them there, vulnerable, to deal with their bodies and their souls. I think Dan was disturbed. I keep wanting to reassure him and all I manage to do is scare him. (Like I did with my student yesterday)...

At KRVS I picked up Karl's soundboard. I'm bringing our speakers too and trying a new sound format. I need to resolve sound once and for all. I need one good sound rehearsal...and it hasn't happened yet.

But something...some heaviness has lifted off my soul and I think things will come together now. They have to. I need them to. All this work cannot go to waste.

Hair appointment (trivial but necessary) in an hour, then new sound setup at 5:30 and rehearsal at 6. On the other side of insecurity there's hope.