Thursday, May 26, 2011

From One Apocalypse to the Next




Tonight is closing night of "Future Anxiety" at The Flea Theater. We've done over 40 performances, and I feel like we just got started. While it will be good to have my evenings back, I can't really complain, because doing theatre is what we moved here to do. And our 7pm show is out by 8:30, so really, the night is still young when we're finished. And between you and me, it's nice to have Sigourney Weaver tell you, "nice work" and "good show" afterwards.

It's also been cool to read reviews of our show in lots of different papers and blogs. While Columbia shows usually enjoyed reviews from 2-3 publications, it's been neat to read varying critiques of our little end of the world play ranging from tired old rags like The New York Times and a little start-up called Backstage. (wink)

While this show ends tonight, our next incarnation of H. apocalyptus starts with a read through in Columbia, SC on Saturday, and that means I will get in a rental car tomorrow morning with Hank (our Beagle), and drive to SC. I have lots of concerns about this trip. Will I get bored? Do I always take the bypass? When I have to stop to pee, will someone put their hand in the car and steal The Most Adorable Dog in the World? And what is the punishment for murder in that particular state when I find the dog-stealer and murder them? Will my family rent an apartment in that state so visiting me in jail will be more convenient? And will Dean move on while I'm incarcerated? So many things to think about.

It will be good to be in SC. I'm not looking forward to sweating a whole bunch, but if I did it for (mumbles) years, then I can do it for two weeks.

I've got packing to do! I'm hitting the road tomorrow! Wish me luck. And call me tomorrow, because I'll be driving and bored. And I have one of those hands-free things, so I won't get in trouble for using the phone in whatever state that's illegal.

I wonder what the sentence for THAT is?



Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Rainy Days and Tuesdays Always...

A) Make me wax nostalgic.
B) Make me wax my legs.
C) Make me want to nap.
D) Make me spend lots of time doing computer things, and then make me all sentimental about how lucky we are, and how touched we are by people's kindness.

The correct answer is B. (But since D was also a valid choice, I'm going to focus on that one.)

Making something and sharing it with other people is tough. Whether it's a homemade dinner for a loved one, or a meaningful wall plaque from the paint-your-own-pottery place, or a poem, or a play...putting your thoughts and heart and energy into something you believe in, and then putting it out there to the world is humbling. And inspiring.

You feel naked. It's like pressing "send" on an email that took you days to compose. Once you press that button it's out there. It's in someone else's hands to analyze and judge. Or maybe to appreciate and support.

Getting our play to Piccolo Spoleto has been like that. Asking people to give us their time and talents, their money and rehearsal space, their Facebook shout-outs and loaner cars. It's humbling to ask, for sure. But it's even more humbling when people come through because they believe in what we're doing and want to help.

These last few weeks have been emotional ones for us, largely for this very reason. Watching something come to life in a new way, brining in new people to make it happen, hearing other artists' ideas about how they would like to see the play unfold...it's all inspiring.

We are so grateful for the support we're receiving from friends, family and total strangers (thank you, Mr. Petrie of Cary, NC!) It makes us work harder. It make us more careful. And it makes us both excited and terrified to make everyone proud.

So, come see the show, if you're able. There's a link to purchase tickets on our website (www.thesalvagecompany.com), and we'd love to hear what you think.


Thursday, May 5, 2011

Fresh Start

Spring has sprung. People are wearing shorts with scarves. Lightweight jackets and flipflops are in full force. My nose is getting sunburned.

After what seemed like a whole year of cold weather and snow and rain, it's good to step outside and look at the sky and the leaves and tulips and dogs and strollers and take a deep breath and say, "let's go."

Hank had a bath today, and was so excited to be clean and outdoors, he knocked into a stranger in the crosswalk. A stranger who was none too pleased to be knocked into by a happy Beagle. It got me wondering...if he knocks down a person- I mean flat on the ground- am I liable for their bills? Will Dean and I have to pack it all up and move to a one bedroom apartment on the side of the interstate back in SC, just to pay for Mrs. Eglestein's hip replacement? That would be tragic. For us, mainly. Old people fall all the time. We're just getting into our groove here.

If anyone is looking for those pink whale pants that Andy Bernard was wearing in a recent episode of "The Office," look no further than Brooks Brothers. I saw them in the window today, and was surprised that those pants weren't a joke made my the costume designer. Not sure how much they cost...how much is one's dignity going for these days?

Hank and I took a walk just now into Central Park, where we saw an accordion player and smelled the first honeysuckle of Spring. Maybe you did, too.

So the temperature is getting better, our life here is getting better, and my outlook is getting better...all today. What a difference a little sunshine makes.