Fury is building. The other night at one of our
|Hi Di Ho Children, don't let my black soulless eyes freak you out!|
We are not up to our fourth session and the showing date draws ever closer - I am trying to not let that alarm me as there is nothing to gain from being alarmed by it. We will have what we have on the day. That's a type of mantra for me at the moment. The real truth is that there is so much potential stuff that we could show that it's overwhelming and I am DEEPLY thankful for Alice who is like a majestic freighter cutting her way through the ice to the Antarctic. In this case freighter could also be "tiny little blonde lady", cutting could be "decisively choosing", ice could be "all my goddamn words" and Antarctic could be a cold, cold place. It actually is cold there, so I'm told.
Improvisation is addictive to watch. To watch really good performers apply their creative brains to some clear and simple direction is simply mesmerising. These actors are working for up to 30 mins at a time. This is long form impro or scene creation and it is intense.The number of ideas they present to me is both wonderful and terrible, not just the things that they come up with but also all the associated ideas that spring into my mind. And then there is Alice's vast cranium to deal with as well.
Better a forest then a desert, she says as she gets figurative on your ass. (She is me).
|Barren, empty, hot.|
|Fecund, fertile, wet. That's me in the middle all upset about how great this is.|
I have been writing a great deal and discarding. Sometimes I write up a scene and know that it's just for me, or for Alice and I or for the actors, but not for general consumption on the stage. Writing is funny like that - I often write scenes and know that it is something I just needed to see, it has no further application then to simply show me something. If only to show me that this idea is not possible, or that it's for another piece of writing. My scenes are so sweet sometimes:
Bridgette: Writey write writey write writerson...
Bridgette: Typity type, character says this thing and then.. hmm?
Scene: (polite cough) We didn't want to interrupt you, because we know that you are busy.
Bridgette: (glancing at fob watch) Yes, yes, quite alright.
Scene: Well, we think that perhaps, you might be finished with us.
Scene: Yes, you see, although we are really rather lovely, we're a bit off topic. Do you see?
Bridgette: Well, I was working my way back to the main...
Scene: Oh yes, quite, but it's like this, there are other scenes that are probably much better suited to this moment. Whereas we are funny and a bit irreverent, but also out of place.
Bridgette: Oh I see. It's just that you are so...
Scene: Oh yes, we know.. yes, we are. But.. another play, as it were.
Bridgette: Do you think?
Scene: Yes, we think so.
Bridgette: Well then.
Scene: Don't get disgruntled and have a bath, just keep going. Start on the monologues.
Bridgette: Alright then. Thank-you for that.
Scene: Don't mention it.
|My scenes are like this dog. Stoic, long suffering, occasionally ridiculous, with tentacles.|
We are the point now where we need to have some actual stuff on paper so that the actors can relax and just laze around reading lines. So that, of course, means that I have to do some real work. It has not been hard at any point to write, the only real difficulty has been in finding time. But the words have come easily and strongly - the characters have something to say and I hope that I am letting them say it the right way.
In news just to hand Gabriel is getting an Optimus Prime transformer for his birthday. I expect his head to explode with delight and I will be sorely disappointed if it doesn't. It has 42 bazillion moving parts and takes 15 hours and an astrophysicist to make that transformation happen. Consequently the toy will live at Daddy's house.
|It's big. How big? Ok, let me get a comparison for you.|
|Bigger than an orange! Well, how big is that orange? It could be a small orange.|
|Bigger than an orange and a banana! Well that's not a helpful comparison, those fruit are subjective in mass and proportion...|
|Bigger than a small parrot ok? Happy now? Suffice to say that Skywalker was surprised to find himself on top of the box. But no more surprised than usual.|