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what is the source of this (joy,freedom,exhilaration)? for if it leaves my job is to find it - if it grows stale I must be able to re-fresh it. Does it come from 'shrugging off the mortal coil' or caring for no-one but myself or being in such a lovely womb of creation or  HER balm of words, words, words. For now and future - amoral,immoral - mortal, immortal - conscience,conscious [A stream of conscienceness from an unconscionable corpse]

Photo call last night.  I think we got some nice shots.

Afterwards, we started rehearsing at the top of the play.  This meant I'd finally get to do my first scene with an actor who hadn't been contracted to start rehearsals until last night.  What a delight!  Though the majority of the scene is on my shoulders (physically & vocaly), having him there made all the difference.  Before then it was a monologue with an imaginary scene partner, one of my LEAST favorite scenarios...  Once he arrived, the whole scene finally started to take shape.  

What a delight to feel a stranger honestly search you eyes, your face for answers.  To be so wanted/needed. many thanks.  what power in not responding - whether you can or not is irrelevant.

What if God is an elected position?  How does one campagne?  Who votes?

Does one elect(accept) oneself to govern(create) oneself...and when?

I must say 'good-bye to clocks ticking'!!!!  why must I push, rush? Nothing is discovered in panic.

As you might guess, Dead Man's Cell Phone contains a 1/2 dozen or so scripted phone calls, all made by my character.  Sarah Ruhl provides the occasional clue as to what the person on the other end is saying but for the most part, it's up to me and Jim to decide.  

All last week I sounded like a broken record, "I have got to take some time and sit down to figure out what they are saying on the other end of the phone call...."  Finally on Sunday I had the chance.  This allowed for some good discovery and creativity.

Mother, a pecan tree grows too close to my head-Hermia, I miss'd you how is matt-Dwight, you look nothing like me lucky bastard-Woman, you continue to complete me even  after death-Jean, I hear you loudest and agree who the hell are you? Tomorrow I meet our maker --- g.

Paper lanterns

Embossed invitations

A spoon, Salt, a cup.

Lipstick 

Meat.

Edward Hopper....   

Cell Phone

Sarah Ruhl is, at this moment, my favorite playwright.  

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Last night's read-through felt completely bizarre.  It were as if i was only there for a one-night-only-play event.  I guess 13 months is a long time to go without doing a show.  Sure, I've gotten to do some work as a narrator (Stage West pairs with the FWSO to provide narrators for the orchestra's Neighborhood Arts Program) and I worked right up until I had Matilda with The StoryTime Theater, but this is the first time I've really been in a play since April 08.   Again, it just felt extremely temporary.  Standing the play up in rehearsals tonight nipped that in the bud.

Well, Friday night we had our 30th Anniversary Gala, and it was great!  If you weren't there, you missed an awesome party.  The decor was swell, the food was yummy, and the band was totally fab!  And lots of people picked up some great auction items for a small investment.

"Annie, Can We Have Some Breakfast, Pleeeease?!?!"

No, that's not a line in Living Together.  But it became one today.  Never ever EVER do I want to hear it again. 

On my drive to the theater this afternoon, I thought, "Hmm, I'd like to write something in the blog today, but I'm not sure what to write about."  Lo and behold, I gave myself something to write about - when I missed my entrance into a scene today during the matinee of Living Together!