2012

Seems like maybe a bit early to look back at 2012, since there is still a month left in the year, but from a theatrical standpoint, not much new is likely to happen in the coming weeks with theater (though having said that, some of the things I have entered should be revealing themselves in the coming weeks). It has been an amazing year, though things have slowed a bit since August. The year started at such a manic pace that it was too much to ask for that pace to continue. Starting with Old Hickory in Nyack and then turning around and moving right into the One Man Talking ten days later (including learning the lines). Old Hickory was work, but I had a framework for it and it wasn't too stressful . . . picking up Like a Sack of Potatoes with a couple of weeks to learn it and mount it . . . a lot of work. Then a breath for a month and the reading in the city of Letter of Resignation. So Jan - April was pretty busy . . . and then the Fringe Festival and acting in Wallace's play. At the end of all that, it was difficult to get revved up again. Though I did work on a new solo piece and have since started another new one . . . I remember Arthur Miller being quoted as saying that every time he finished a play he assumed it was the last one . . . That's how it feels for me to . . . and then something happens . . . the switch gets flipped and you're back in . . . establishing a groove and working on new stuff. So now I am back into a bit of a rhythm . . . which is good. My piece about the posing needs work but I was kind of afraid of it . . . because the easy part is getting the original draft on paper ... once you have that the real work starts, the rewriting and structural work . . . it can be intimidating looking at a piece and seeing the work that needs to be done and that there is only one way to get it done and there are no short cuts. So starting on my new solo piece has gotten me back into the habit . . . the writing habit. Funny how readily you can slip back into it . . . you get up, do what needs to be done and then every day, at least a little time for what matters most. Because I do think the writing matters most or at least is one third of the trident that comprises my life right now today. Writing is the expression of whatever I'm expressing and it is the thing that makes me feel the most whole when it's flowing and the most hollow when it is not. I think hollow is a good way to put it . . . without the writing, there is some edge there that colors everything with a layer of guilt (should be writing) like dust accumulating on furniture. Then, just as quickly as the malaise sets in, the clouds can part and a new something emerges and you're back at it . . . it's no wonder that many writers are such wrecks! At least at my current level I don't have the weight of expectation hovering over me as well. There is no one judging what I do or expecting me to produce . . . to have that whip cracking must add a dimension that isn't so pleasant. Things are good at home, we are safe and secure (relatively). We love each other and respect each other, so that foundation keeps me structurally sound. As for work? Work is work, and it is nice that I like my job and the people there and might actually be about to make some money there (about time!) So looking forward is promising . . . good stuff can happen if you let it . . . I'm starting to send out Old Hickory DVDs to people . . . might bear fruit and might not, but it can't if I don't get it out there. 2013? I'm ready.

Writing?

I'm starting to feel that urge to get going on something again. I've been wasting a lot of time recently. I admire writers who do it every day. I do it every day, but not all the time, if that makes sense. When I'm in the groove and working on something and it's just coming easily, that is when I try to eek out a little time every day for writing. But sometimes I hit these periods where nothing seems to be flowing and all the ideas are iffy, or stuff that doesn't really excite me, so I find other things to do. Though I love my job it does leave me a tad depleted at the end of the day so if the muse is with me it usually happens in the AM. Sometimes the guilt at wasting time by not writing builds up to the point where I have to get back to it . . . eventually it's like, another day gone, no writing, what are you doing? Shouldn't be too hard on myself . . . it has always been peaks and valleys of activity, and I do have two new pieces that are in the first-draft- done-now-what stage. One is a new solo thing and the other a four character bit. And I scribbled down some ideas for something new this morning. So. I have entered a few competitions recently, One Man Talking of course, then a festival that accepts solo shows in the city and a developmental thing that is also in the city, to which I sent a couple of scripts. So it's not like there is no activity . . . OMT will be fun . . . a lot of work for one performance, but I have enjoyed the experience every time I've done it . . . it is such a hoot to be on stage doing my own stuff . . . just wish I could find a way to get something cooking via a showcase in the city or something . . . I guess the bottom line is: if I want to do it . . . I'm going to have to just do it.