I discovered YouTube. I watched stuff. And more stuff. And more stuff. I glutted on stuff. Wow. Sam? I'm disappointed you didn't tell me. Is there anything else out there I should know about?
Julie, my often writing partner, showed me a book about tiny houses on wheels, so for the past while I’ve been mentally touring Europe, stealing chickens from rich people, and watching sad-eyed women dancing around the evening camp fire. Sometimes I think I was born about 400 years too late.
I discovered comments from you were no longer coming to my email, but were now being stored in an inane section of my blog called “comments.” I published everything I read, and sent Blogger a few comments of my own in the best tradition of Mel Gibson. (Speaking of which, Kari, you are absolutely correct. I wasn’t trying to excuse anything, just pointing out that we love to rush to judgment. Malmesbury, you constantly enrich my blog with your visits. I’m humbled by your astute observations.)
And I’ve been busy with what is supposedly my vocation/avocation (depending on who’s paying at the moment.)
My play on commission is finished. I hate parts of it with a genuine purple passion, but in re-write I’ll improve the work and annoy actors at the same time. It’s a win-win situation.
The other play I’m writing is going much slower. This is a work of love, so I’m purposely caressing it, sometimes with one single word nestled carefully behind another.
For those who tuned in late, I’ve been hired to direct a production of RICHARD III for a local theatre in November. Rehearsals will start in a few weeks, and already a number of performers have started breathing heavy. (It’s going to be a truly scary play – several of the characters carry real daggers. Hopefully they will only stab each other or themselves, and not anyone who paid to see the show.)
This same theatre has now asked me to direct two other plays. The first is called ZACK, scheduled for production in May of 2011, and – to my surprise – one of my own plays, to follow in August of 2011. Okay …
And that’s about all for now. I feel greatly unburdened. Thank you so very much for hanging in there with me.
On my own, with all of my falls.
3 years ago