So I hopped on the blog yesterday to talk about my producerly empowerment, and what do I wind up doing? Complaining about the fight to find space in LA. Tsk, tsk, tsk!
But the tallying/writing about it brought the truth to the surface of my frustrated mind… I’m still waiting. On theatres. For space. I hate waiting. It makes me feel stuck.
And I hate being stuck.
Which is when it hit me: Who said readings have to happen inside theatres?
And that little epiphany put me right back on track and in control… because if we stop limiting ourselves to the confines of the current patriarchal/inbred theatrical hierarchy (and I mean that in the most respectful way possible), aren’t we in the drivers seat?
(And totally/terrifyingly responsible for the outcome… but that’s a different problem )
It seems then, that the frustrated female playwright need only some peers, some ingenuity, and some proverbial balls to get things up and running for herself… then she needs some running shoes and some long jump practice so she can bound around and over the flaming hurdles in her way.
I don’t know if I’m in marathon shape yet, but I’ve certainly got the shoes.
Which is one of the things I actually enjoy about producing – the creative problem solving it requires. And maybe that’s what I like about playwriting too – stirring things up that require Big Answers… not knowing at the onset how I will tell the tale, only that I must tell it.
So, I don’t quite have all the answers for how I’m going to get my Female Playwrights ONSTAGE project the national wings I know it will someday flourish with, but I’m confident that if I keep fighting for it and running with it, I’ll find the festival evolving and developing those wings as we go…
Which is all to say, I figured out where the festival will be read in LA… and it feels perfect and exciting and surprisingly multi-dimensional for where its at in its development.
And that, my dears, is what I call progress.